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A public-domain text about Boston, accessioned whole so the archive can quote it.","text_extract":"Google \n\n\n\nThis is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project \n\nto make the world's books discoverable online. \n\nIt has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject \n\nto copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. 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Please do not remove it. \n\n+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just \nbecause we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other \ncountries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of \nany specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner \nanywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liabili^ can be quite severe. \n\nAbout Google Book Search \n\nGoogle's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers \ndiscover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web \n\nat |http: //books .google .com/I \n\n\n\nr \n\n\n\nLIFE \n\n\n\n0» \n\n\n\nGEN. PUTNAM. \n\n\n\ni» \n\n\n\n\n\n\n/ / ■- ; \n\n\n\n%y \n\n\n\no \n\n\n\nLIFE \n\n\n\nOT \n\n\n\nGEN. PUTNAM. \n\n\n\n<» \n\n\n\n» f \n\n\n\n% \n\n\n\nc? \n\n\n\nOrigmsl Picture hj Tmmtnill. , \n\n\n\nAN \n\nESSAY \n\nOBT THB \n\nLIFE \n\nOF THX \n\nHONOURABLE MAJOR GENERAL \n\nISRAEL PUTNAM, \n\nADBRS88SD TO \nTHE STATE SOCIETY OF THE OIKOINNATl IK \n\nCONTNEOTIOUT, \nAnd ^rst poblitbed by their order. \n\nBY COL. DAVID HUMPHREYS. \n\nWITH \n\nNOTES AND ADDITIONS. \n\n\n\nWITH AX \n\nAPPENDIX, \n\ncoNTAunvo Ajr * \n\nUI8T0RI0AL AND TOPOORAPHIQAt \n\nSKETCH \n\nOP \n\nBY S. SWETT, \n\n\n\n\nBOSTON : \n\nPUBLISHED BT SAMUEL AVERT, \nJVb. 89 Cottrt Street. \n\n\n\n1818. \n\n\n\ny-^- (r.Je. \n\n\n\nTO THK \n\n\n\nHON. COL. JEREMIAH WADSWORTH, \n\nPreaideiit of the State Society of tke Cindmutti \n\nin Connecticut, &e* \n\n\n\nMt dear Sir, \n\nUnavoidable absence will prevent me \nfroin performing the gratefol task assigned \nme by the State Society of the Cincinnati on \nthe fourth day of July next. Though lean- \nnot personally address them, I wish to demon- \nstrate, by some token of affectionate remem- \nbrance, the sense I entertain of the honour \nthey have more than once conferred upon me \nby their suffrages. \n\nMeditating in what manner to accomplish \nthis object, it occurred to me, that an attempt \nto preserve the actions of General Putnam, in \nthe archives of our State Society, would be \nacceptable to its members, as they had all \nserved with great satisfaction under his imme- \ndiate orders. An essay on the life of a per- \n\n\n\n6 LETTER TO COLONEL WAD8W0RTH. \n\nSOD 80 elevated in militarj rank, and so con- \nTersant in extraordinary scenes, could not be \ndestitute of amusement and instruction, and \nwould possess the advantage of presenting for \nimitation a respectable model of public and \nprivate virtues. \n\nGeneral Putnam is universally acknowledg- \ned to have been as brave and as honest a man \nas ever America produced; but the distin- \nguishing features of his character, and the par- \nticular transactions of his life, are but imper- \nfectly known. He seems to have been form- \ned on purpose for the age in which he lived. \nHis native courage, unshaken integrity, and \nestablished reputation as a soldier, were ne- \ncessary in the early stages of our opposition to \nthe designs of Great Britain, and gave un- \nbounded confidence to our troops in their first \nconflicts in the field of battle. \n\nThe enclosed manuscript justly claims in- \ndulgence for its venial -errors, as it is the first \neffort in Biography that has been made on \nthis continent. The attempt, I am conscious, \nis laudable, whatever may be the failure in \npoint of execution. \n\nI am happy to find the Society of the Cin- \ncinnati is now generally regarded in a favoura* \n\n\n\nLETTER TO COLONEL WABaWORTH. 7 \n\nble manner. Mankind, with few exceptionSf \nare disposed to do justice to the motives on \nwhicji it was founded. For ourselves, we \ncan never recall to mind the occasion, vritfaout \nfeeling the most tender emotions of friendship \nand sensibilitj. At the dissolution of the ar- \nmy, when we retired to separate walks of life, \nfrom the toils of a successful war, in ifvhich we \nhad been associated during a very important \npart of our lives, the j^easii^ idea, and the \nfond hope of meeting once a year, which gave \nbirth to our fraternal institution^ were necessa- \nry consolations to sooth the pangs that tore \nour bosoms at the melancholy hour of parting. \nWhen our hands touched, perhaps for the last \ntime, and our tongues refused to perform their \noffice in bidding farewell, heaven witnessed \nand approved the purity of our intentions in \nthe ardour of our affections. May we per- \nsevere in the union of our friendship, and the \nexertion of our benevolence; regardless of the \neensures of jealous suspicion, which charges \nour designs with selfishness, and ascribes our \nactions to improper motives; while we real- \nize sentiments of a nobler nature in our anni- \nversary festivities, and our hearts dilate with \n^ honest joy, in opening the hand of benefi:;* \n\n\n\nD LVBXHR VO COEOirfiL WADSWORTlt. \n\ncoMie to the indigenit widow and unprotected \nOf pfaan of oQr departed friends*; \n\nI praj yon, my dear Shr^ te present my \nmost Mspectfol compliininits to die members \noif tfco SedetfV ^od to asium them^ on my \nfMTt^ thkt whensoever it shall be in my power« \nishitH esteem it the felicity of my life to at* \niend dieh* aonmirsaries* \n\n1 have the honbui to he, \n'Witfi se&timeiKts 0f the behest consid^ntioa and \n\nVpuTiHiSBt dliedieirt abd iii69t humble servanV \n\nD. HUMPHBEYa \n\nMauni-Veman, in Virginia, \n\n'i , - . \n\n• I * ' ■ f • ( * \n\nt • ■ • • \n\n\n\nt V \n\n\n\nV '1.' ' • \n\n\n\n< \n\n\n\n. . I - ; . . . .* t I - t » - ^ ' T \n\n•i ■ t • • ■ ' ' ' \n\n\n\nAN \n\nESSAY \n\nON THE \n\nLIFE OF OENERAL. PUTNAM. \n\n\n\nas \n\n\n\nTo TREAT of recent transactions and per- \nsons still living, is always a delicate, and fre* \n(juently a thankless office. Yet, while the par- \ntiality of friends, or the malignity of enemies, \ndecides with rashness on every delineation of \ncharacter, or recital of circumstances, a con- \nsolation remains, that distant nations, and re- \nmoter ages, free from the influence of preju- \ndice or passion, will judge with impartiahty, \nand appreciate with justice. We have fallen \nupon an era singularly prolific in extraordi- \nnary personages, and dignified by splendid \nevents. Much k expected from the selections \nof the judicious biographer, as well as from \nthe labours of the faithful historian. What- \never prudential reasons may now occur to \npostpone the portrait of our own times, the \ndifficulties which oppose themselves to the \nexecution, instead of being diminished, will in- \ncrease with the lapse ot years. Every day \nwill extinguish some life that was dear to fame^ \n\n2 \n\n\n\n10 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nand obliterate the memorial of some deed \nwhich would have constituted the delight and \nadmiration of the world. \n\nSo transient and indistinguishable are the \ntraits of character, so various and inexplicable \nthe springs of action, so obscure and perisha« \nble tne remembrance of human affairs, that, \nunless attempts are made to sketch the pic- \nture, while the present generation is living, the \nlikeness will be for ever lost, or only preserv- \ned by a vague recdiection ; disguised perhaps, \nby tne whimsical colourings of a creative im- \nagination. \n\nIt will, doubtless, hereafter be an object of \nregret, that those who, having themselves \nbeen conspicuous actors on the theatre of pub- \nlic life, and who, in conjunction with a knowl-* \nedge of facts, possess abilities to paint those \ncharacters, and describe those events which, \nduring the progress of the American Revolu- \ntion, interested and astonished mankind, should \nfeel an insuperable reluctance to assume the \ntask — a ta^ which, if executed with fidelity, \nmust, from the dignity of its subject, become \nl^rateful to the patriots of all nations, and \nprofitable in example to the remotest posteri- \nty. Equally severe will be the mortification \nof contempdating the reveries and fictions \nwhich have been substituted by hacknied writ- \ners in the place of historical facts. Nor should \nwe suppress our indignation against that class \noi protessional authors, who, placed in the \nYale of pmury and obscurity, at an tomense \n\n\n\nLIFE W GSir&tlAt PUTITAM* 11 \n\ndistance from the scenes of action, and all op- \nportunities of acouirin^ the necessary doca« \nments, with insunerable effrontery, obtrude \ntheir fallacious and crude performances on a \ncredulous public. Did the result of their lu- \ncubrations terminate only in relieving their own \ndistresses, or gratifying their individual vanity, \nit might be passed in silent contempt., But \nthe effect is extensive, permanent, and pemi* \ncious. The lie,* hoMrever improbable or \nmonstrous, wliich has once assumed the sem- \nblance of truth, by being often repeated with \nminute and plausible particulars, is, at lengthy \nso thoroughly established, as to obtain uni- \nversal credit, defy contradiction, and frustrate \nevery effort of refutation. Such is the mis- \nchief, such are the unhappy consequences on \nthe bewildered mind, that the reader has no \nalternative, but to become the dupe of his \ncredulity, or distrust the veracity of almost all \nhuman testimony. After having lonjg; been the \nsport of fiction, he will, perhaps, probably run \ninto the opposite extreme, ana give up all con- \nfidence in the annals of ancient as well as mod- \nem tilnes 5 and thus the easy believer of fine \nfables and marvellous stories will find, at last, \nhis historical faith change to scepticism, and \nend in infidelity. \n\n• Tbe writer bad here particularly in his eye, the Rhapsody \npAlmed apon the public, under the name of a History, by a certain \nFrenchman, called D*Auberteiul : Perhaps so much falsehood, fol- \nly and calumny was never before accumulated in a single perlbrm- \n«nce» \n\n\n\n12 LIFE'^F GENERAL PU^FNAAT. \n\nThe numerous errors and falsehoods rela* \nlive to the birth and achievements of Major- \nGeneral Putnam,. which have (at a former pe- \nriod) been circulated with assiduity on both \nsides of the Atlantic, and the uncertainty \nwhich appeared to prevail with respect to his \nreal character,* first produced the resolution \nof writing this essay on his life, and induced \nthe Elditor to obtainf materials from that hero \nhimself. If communications of such authentici- \nty, if personal intimacy as an aid^de-camp to \nthat General, or if subsequent military em- \nployments, which afforded access to sources| \n\n• The following lines are extracted from a poem, entitled ** The \nProspect of America :\" written by the late ingenious Dr. Ladd<* \n\n\n\n** Hail Putnam ! hail, thou venerable name ! \n\n\" Tho' dark oblivion threats, tbj mighty fame, \n\n*< It threats in ?.iin — for long shalt, tnou be koovn^ \n\n** Who first in virtue and in battle shone. \n\n« Ayben fourscore years had blanch*d thy laurell'd head^ \n\n*' Strong in thine age, the flame of war was spread.\" \n\nOn which Dr. Ladd made this note : \n\n** The brave Putnam seems to have been almost obscured amidst \n*' the glare of succeeding worthies ; but his early and gallant serr \n'^ f ices entitle him to an everlasting remembrancer\" \n\nOther bards have also asserted the glory of this venerable vete« \nran. In the first concise review of the principal Afaerican heroes \n^vho signalized themselves in the last war, the same character t» \nthus represented : \n\n<< There stood stern Putnam, seamM with many -a sear, \n** The veteran honors of an early war.'* \n\nThe Vision of Columbus, Book V.. \n\n•j- The editor seizes with eagerness an opportunity of acknowl- \nedging his obligations to Dr. Albigence Waldo, who was sopbliging \nas to commit to writing many anecdotes, communicated to him by \nGeneral Putnam in the course of the present year. \n\n4: A multitude of proofs might be produced to demonstrate that \nmilitary facts cannot always be accurately known but by the com* \nmaider in vhief and his con^dential officers. The Marquis de \n\n\n\nAire or OENfiHAL pUTivAAr. 13 \n\nof intelligence not open to others, give tb^ \nwriter any advantages, the unbiassed mind will \ndecide how far they exculpate him from the \nimputations of that officiousness, ignorance and \npresumption, which, in others, have been re* \nprehenaed with severity. He only wishes that \na premature and unfavourable construction \nmay not be formed of his motive or object \nShould this essay have any influence in correct* \n\nChattellenx (whose opportnnitj to tcqnire genuine informafioot \nrespecting those parts of the American war which he hath easuall/ \nmentioned, was better than that of any other writer) gives an ae« \nttmnt of a grand forage which General Heath ordered to be made \ntowards KingVbridge in the autumn of 1780. The Marquis, who \nwas present when the detachment marched, and to whom General \nHeath sliewed the^ orders that wer^given to General Stark, the \ncommanding officer of the expedition, observes that he had neter \nseen, in manuscript, or print, more pertinent iostmetions. Noir \nthe fact is, that this detachment, under the pretext of a forage, wflt \nintended by the Commander in Chief to cooperate with the maia \narmy in an attempt against the enemy's posts on Yoric Island ; and \nthat General Heath himself was then ignorant of the real desi|[o. \nThe Commander in Chief spent a whole campaign in ripening \nthis project. Boats, mounted on trarelling carriaKes, were kept \nconsuntly with the army. The marquis de la Fayette, at the \nhead of the Light Infantry, was to have made the attack in \nthe night on fort Washington. The period chosen for this enter- \nprise was the very time, when the army were to break up their \ncamp and march into winter quarters : so that the Commander in \nChief, moving m the dusk of the evening, would have been on th« \nbanks of the Hudson, with his whole force, to have ^supported the \nattack. The cautious manner in which the cooperation on the \npart of the troops sent by General Heath, on the pretended forage^ \nwas to have been conducted, will be onderttood from the following^ \nsecret instructions. \n\n\n\n«Si«, \n\n\n\nTo Brigadier General Stark. \n\nHead Quarters, PaaaaicFalU, J^$v. 91, ITSOi \n\n\n\n\" Co1t>nel Humphrevs, one of my Aid8-de-eamp> *l» \n** charged by me with orders of a private and particular nature^ \n** which he is to deliver to you, and which you are to obev. He \n** wiH ittfonaa yon of the necessity of this mode of eommonication. \n\n'* I am. Sir. &c. \n\n\" G. WASHINGTON/^ \n\n2* \n\n\n\n14 LIFE OF GEIO&RAL PUTNAM. \n\ning mistakes, or rescuing from oblivion the ac- \ntions of that distinguished vetei^n; should it \ncreate an emulation to copy his domestic, man- \nly and heroic virtueir ; or should it prompt \nsome more skilful hand to portray the illus- \ntrious group of patriots, sages, and heroes, \nwho have guided ourcouncils, fought our bat- \ntles, and adorned the memorable epocha of \niodependence, it will be an ample compensa- \n\n^ To LieateAant Colonel Davxd^ HvMPHRSYSy A. D. Camp. \n\n••Sir, \n\n** Toa are immediately to proeeed to West Point, and \nM eofDmonioate the bcuiness eommitted to you, in confidence, to \n'* Major General Ueatht and to no other person whatsoever : from \n** thence you will repair to tl|^ detachment at the White Plains, oq \n«< Friday next, takmg measures to prevent their leaving that \n^ place before you get to them. And in^ the course of the suc- \n'*oeeding night yea may inform the commanding officer of the \n** enterprise in contemplation against the enemy's posts on York \n« Island: t \n\n** As the troops are constantly to lie on -their arms, no previons \n** notice should be given : but they may be, put in motion precisely \n^ at 4 o'clock, and commence a slow and regular march. to King's- \n*< bridge, until they shall discover or be informed of the concerted \n** signals being made, when the march must be pressed with the \n** greatest rapidity. Parties of horse should be sent forward to \n^ keep a look out for the signals. \n\n** Although the main body ought to be kept compact, patroles of \n** horse and light parties might be sent towards £ast and West \n** Chester : and upon the signals being discovered, Sheldon's regi* \n** ment and the Connecticut State troops (which may also be put \n** in motion aa soon as the orders can be communicated after 4 \n** o'clock) should be pushed forward to intercept any of the enemy, \n«< who may attempt to gain Frog's Neck, and to cut off the Refn- \n*' gee-corps at Morissania. A few men, with some address, may \n^* spread such an alarm as to prevent an attempt of the enemy to \n\" retreat to Frog's Neck, from an apprehension of surrounding \n<* parties. \n\n** You will communicate these instructions to the commanding \n''officer of the detachment, who, upon his approach to King's- \n** bridge, will receive orders from me as earlv as possible. \n\n\" Should the signals not be discovered, the troops will halt at \n^ least six milei from the bridge, until further intelligence can he \n••obtainfA \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 15 \n\ntion for the trouble, and excite a consolatory \nreflection through every vicissitude of life, \n\nIsrael Putnam, who, through a regular \ngradation of promotion, became the senior Ma- \njor-General m the army of the United States, \nand next in rank to General Washington, was \nborn at Salem, in the Province (now State) of \nMassachusetts, on the 7th day of January, \n1718* His father, Captain Joseph Putnam, \nwas the son of Mr. John Putnam, who, with \ntwo brothers, came from the south of England, \nand were among the first settlers of Salem. \n\nWhen we thus behold a person, from the \nhumble walks of life, starting unnoticed in the \n\n** The absolate neeessity of the most perfect secrecy is the oeea'* \n'' sion of eommunioatiog: my orders through this channel. \n\n/ '* Gvden at Head Quarter*, Pataaic Falh, \n\n•* thia 22rf dav of J^ov. 1780. \n\n« 6. WASHINGTON.** \n\nNever was a plan better arranged : and neTer did circumstancea \npromise more sure or complete^ success. The British were not \nonly unalarmed, but our own troops were likewise entirely mis- \nguided in their expectations. The accidental intervention of some \nvessels prevented at this time the attempt ; which was more than \nonce resumed afterwards. Notwithstanding thi» favourite project \nwas not ultimately ejected, it was evidently not less bold in con- \n•eption or feasible in aceoropliskment, than that attempted so sue- \noessfuUy at Trenton, or than that which was brought to so glorious \nan issue in the successful siege of York^Town. \n\nIt is true the Marquis de Chastelleux, whose professional \nknowledge and fountain-head intelligence have enabled him to do* \nscribe several actions better than they are elsewhere described, \nspeaks in this instance of an ulterior object ; and says, that secrets \nwere preserved mote inviolably iu the American than in the \nFrench army. His words are : \n\n•<C'e8t que le se^et est garde tret ezaetement a I'armee Amer- \n** icaine ; peu de personnes ont part a la eonfiance du Chef, et en \n** general on y parle moins que dans les armees Trancoises det \n** operations de la gaerre, et de oe qn« I'on appelle thes nous /lf«. \n«* ^onvelleay \n\n\n\n)6 ttFE OF OENERAt. PUTNAM; \n\ncareer of fame, and, by an undeviating pro- \n\ngress through a life of honour, arriving at the \nighest dignity in the state, curiosity is strong- \nly excited, and philosophy loves to trace the \npath of glory from the cradle of obscurity to \nthe summit of elevation. \n\nAlthough our ancestors, the first settlers of \nthis land, amidst the extreme pressure of pov- \nerty and danger, early instituted schools for the \neducation of youth designed for the learned \nprofessions, yet it was thought sufficient to in- \nstruct those destined to labour on the earth, \nin reading, writing, and such rudiments of \narithmetic as might be requisite for keeping the \naccounts of their little transactions with each \nother. Few farmers' sons had more advan- \ntages, none less. In this state of mediocrity it \nwas the lot of young Putnam to be placed. His \nearly instruction was not considerable, and thB \nactive scenes of life in which he was afterwards \nengaged, prevented the opportunity of great \nliterary improvement. His numerous original \nletters, though deficient in scholastic accuracy, \nalways display the goodness of his heart, and \nfrequently the strength of his native genius. \nHe had a certain laconic mode of expression, \nand an unaffected epigrammatic turn, which \ncharacterised most of his writings. \n\nTo compensate partially for the deficiency \nof education (though nothing can remove or \ncounterbalance the inconveniencies experience \ned from it in public life) he derived from bis \nparents the source of innumerable advantages \n\n\n\nLIFE &P OfiNERAL PUTNAM; 17 \n\nin the slamina of a vigorous constitution. Na- \nture, liberal in bestowing on him bodily \nstrength, hardiness, and activity, was by no \nmeans parsimonious in mental endowments. \nWhile we leave the qualities of the under- \nstanding to be developed in the process of \nlife, it may not be improper, in this place^ to \ndesignate some of the circumstances winch \nwere calculated to distinguish him afterwards \nas a partizan officer. \n\nCourage, enterprize, activity, and perse- \nverance were the first characteristics of his \nmind. There is a kind of mecbaracal courage, \nthe offspring of pride, habit, or discipline, that \nmay push a coward not only to perform his \nduty^ but even to venture on acts of heroism. \nPutnam's courage was of a different species. \nIt was ever attended with a serenity of soul, a \nclearness of conception, a degree of sell^pos- * \nsession, and a superiority to all the vicissitudes \nof fortune, entirely distinct from any thing that \ncan be produced oy the ferment of blood, and \nflutter of spirits; which not unfrequently, pre- \ncipitate men to action, when stimulated by in- \ntoxication or some other transient exhilaration. \nThe heroic character, thus founded on consti- \ntution and animal spirits, cherished by educa- \ntion and ideas of personal freedom, confirmed \nby temperance and habits of exercise, was \ncompleted by the dictate of reason, the love of \nIns country, and an invincible sense of duty. \nSuch were the qualities and principles that \nenabled him to meet unappallea, the shafts of \n\n\n\n18 LIFE OP GBKSRAL PUTHAK. \n\nadversity, and to pass ki triumph through the \nfuraace of affliction. \n\nHis disposition was as frank and genenms \nas hisinind was fearless and independent. He \ndisguised nothing; indeed he seemed incapa- \nble of disguise. Perhaps in the intercourse \nhe was ultimately obliged to have with an art^ \nful world, his sincerity, on some occasions, out*- \nwent his discretion. Although he had too \nmuch suavity in his nature to commence a \nquarrel, he had teo much lensibility not to feel, \nand too much honour not to resent an intendt- \ned insult. The first time he went to Boston \nhe was 'insulted for his rusticity by a boy c€ \ntwice his size and age ; after bearing the sar- \ncasms until his patience was worn out, he chal- \nlenged, engaged, and vanquished his unman- \nnerly antagonist, to the great diversion of a \ncrowd of spectators. While a stripling, his \nambition was to perform the labour of a man, \nand to excel in athletic diversions. In that \nrude, but masculine age, whenever the village- \nyouth assembled on their usual occasions of \nfestivity, pitching the bar, running, leaping, \nand wrestling w^re favourite amusements. At \nsuch gymnastic exercises (in which, during the \nheroic times of ancient Greece and Rome, \nconquest was considered as the promise of fu- \nture military fame) he bore the palm from al- \nmost every ring. \n\nBefore the refinements of luxury, and the \nconsequent increase of expences had rendered \nthe maintenance of a family inconvenient of \n\n\n\ntorn OF GENBRAX. PUTNJUU. 19 \n\nburdensome in America, the sexes edtered in- \nto matrimony at an earlj age. Competence, \nattainabte by all, was the limit of pursuit. \nAfter the bardships of making a new settle-* \nment were o?ercome, and the evils of penury \nremoved, the inhabitants enjoyed, in the lot of \nequabty, innocence and security, scenes equal* \nly delightful witb those pictured by the glow-* \ning imagination of the poets in their favourite \npastoral life, or fabulous golden age. Indeed, \nthe condition of nHinkind was never more en- \nviable. Neither disparity of age and fortune, \nnor schemes of amoition and grandeur, nor \ntbe pride and avarice of high-minded and mer- \ncenajry parents, interposed those obstacles to \nthe union of congenial souls, which frequently \nin more polished society prevent, embitter or \ndestroy all the felicity of the connubial staAe. \nMr. Putnam before he attained the twenty- \nfirst year of his age, married Miss Pope, \ndaughter of Mr. John Pope of Salem, by whom \nhe had ten children, seven of whom are still \nliving. He lost the wife d* his youth in 1764. \nSome time after be marned Mrs. Gardiner,, \nwidow of tbe late Mr. Gardiner of Gardiner^s \nIsland, by whom he bad no issue. Slie di^ \nin 1777. \n\nIn tbe year 1739 be removed from Salem to \nPomfret, an inland fertile town in Connecticut, \nforty miles east of Hartford: having here pur- \nchased a considerable tract of land be applied \nhimself successfully to agriculture. \n\n\n\n20 ttFE OV GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nThe first years, on a new farm, are not how- \never exempt from disasters and disappoint- \nments, whicn c?m onl j be remedied by stubborn \nand patient industry. Our farmed, suflieiently \noccupied in building an house and bam, felling \nlYooas, making fences, sowing grain, plan^g* \norchards and taking care of his stock,, had to \nencounter, in turn, me calamities occasioned by- \ndrought in summer, blast in harvest, loss of \ncattle in winter, and the desolation of his sheep- \nfold by wolves. • In one night he had seventy \nfine sheep and goats killed, besides many Iambic \nand kids wounded. This havoc was commit- \nted by a she wolf, which, with lier annual \nwhelps, had for several years infested the vi- \ncinity. The young were commonly destroy- \ned by the vigilance of the hunters, but the old \none was too sagacious to come within reach of \ngunshot: upon being closely pursued she \nwould generally fly to the western woods, and \nreturn the next winter with another litter of \nwhelps. ^ \n\nThis wolf, at length becs(me such an intol- \nerable nuisance, that Mr Putnam entered into \na combination with five of his neighbours to \nhunt alternately until they could destroy her. \nTwo by rotation, were tp be constantly m pur- \nsuit. Jt was known, that, having lost the toes \nfrom one foott by a steel trap, she made one^ \n. track shorter than the other. By this vestige, \nthe pursuers recognized, in a light snow, the \nroute of this pernicious animal. Having fol- \nlowed her to Connecticut river and found she \n\n\n\n\n\n\nL1F& OF G£N£RAL PUTNAM. 21 \n\nhad turned back in a direct course towards \nPomfret, they immediately returned, and by- \nten o'clock the next morning the blood-hounds \nhad driven her into a den, about three miles \ndistant from the house of Mr. Putnam : The \npeople soon collected with dogs, guns, straw, \nfire and sulphur to attack the common enemy. \nWith this apparatus several unsuccessful ef- \nforts were made to force her from the den. \nThe hounds came back badly wounded and \nrefused to return. The smoke of blazing \nstraw had no effect. Nor did the fumes of \nburnt brimstone, with which the cavern was \nfilled, compel her to quit the retirement. \nWearied with such fruitless attempts (which \nhad brought the time to ten o'clock at night) \nMr. Putnam tried once more to make his dog \nenter, but in vain ; he proposed to his negro \nman to go down into the cavern and shoot the \nwolf: the negro declined the hazardous ser- \nvice. Then it was that the master, angry \nat the disappointment, and declaring that he \nwas ashamed to have a coward in his family, \nresolved himself to destroy the ferocious beast, \nlest he should escape through some unknown \nfissure of the rock. His neighbours strongly \nremonstrated against the perilous enterprize: \nbut he, knowing that wild'animals were intimi- \ndated by fire, and having provided several \nstrips of birch-bark, the only combustible ma- \nterial which he could -obtain, that would afford \nlight in this deep and darksome cave, prepar- \ned for his descent. Having, accordingly ^ di- \n\n3 \n\n\n\ntestied himself of his qoat and waistcoat^ and \nhaving a long rope featened round his legs, by \n\"Hrhich he might oe pulled back, at a concert-^ \n^d sigoa), he entered head foreuoost, with the \nl^lazing torch ip his hand* \n\nTh§ aperture of the denji on the east side oC \n^ y^ry high ledge of rocks, is about two feet \nsquare ; irom thence it descends obliquely fi& \nteen feet, then running horizontally about ten \nqioref^ ascends gradually sixteen feet tof- \nwards its termination. The sides of this sub- \nterraneous cavity are composed of smooth and \ni^olid rocks, which seem to have been divided \nfrom each other by some former earthquake. \nThe top and bottom are also of stone, and the \nentrance, in winter, being covered with ice, ia \nexceedingly slippery. It is in no place high \nenough for a man to raise himself upright^ \nl|or in any part more than three feet in width. \nHaving groped his passage to the horizon- \ntfil part of the den, the most terrifying dark- \nness appeared in front of the dim circle of \nli^ht afiorded by his torch. It was silent as \nthe house of death. None but monsters of \nthe desert had ever before explored this soli- \ntfiry mansion of horror. He, cautiously pro- \nceeding onward, came to the ascent ; whicn he \nslowly mounted on his hands and knees until \nhe discoyered the glaring eye-^balls of the- \nwolf, who was sitting at the extremity of the \ncavern. Started at the sight of nre, she \nmashed her teeth, and ^ve a sullen growl. \nAa 90on as he Jiad made me. necessary aiscor- \n\n\n\nLIFE Ot ^BNERAL PtJTNAI^. '^^ \n\n^r J, he kicked the rope as a signal for puIEh^ \nhim out. The people^ at the mouth of the \nden, who had listened with painful anxiety, \nhearing the growlmg of the wolf, and suppos- \ning their friend to he in the most imminent \ndanger, drew him forth with such celerity that \nhis shirt was stripped over his head and hit. \nskin severely lacerated. After he had adjust- \ned his clothes, and loaded his gun with nine \nbuck-shot, holding a torch in one hand and \nthe musket in the other, he descended the se- \ncond time. When he drew nearer than before, \nthe wolf, assuming a still more fierce and ter- \nrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, \nsnapping her teeth, and dropping her head \nbetween her legs, was evidently in the atti- \ntude, and on the point of springing at him. At \nthe critical instant he levelled and fired at her \nhead. Stunned with the shock, and sufibcated \nwith the smoke, he immediately found himself \ndrawn out of the cave. But having refreshed \nhimself, and permitted the smoke to dissipate, \nhe went down the third time. Once more he \ncame within -sight of the wolf, who appearing \nvery passive, he applied the torch to her nose, \nand perceiving her dead, he took hold of her \nears, and then kicking the rope Tstill tied round \nhis legs) the people above witn no small ex- \nultation dragged them both out together. \n\nI have onered these facts in greater detail, \nbecause they contain a display of character j \nand because they have been erroneously rela- \nted in several European publications, and very \n\n\n\n:24 LIFE OF GENERAX PUTNAM. \n\nmuch mutilated in the history of Connecticut, \na work as replete with falsehood as destitute \nof genius, lately printed in London. \n\nI^rosperitj, at length, began to attend the \nagricultural affairs of Mr. rutnam. He was \nacknowledged to be a skilful and indefatigable \nmanager. His fields were mostly enclosed \n.with stone walls. His crops commonly suc- \nceeded, because the land was well tilled and \nmanured. His pastures and meadows became \nluxuriant. His cattle were of the best breed, \nand in good order. His garden and fruit-trees \n\nErolific. With the avails of the surplusage of \nis produce, foreign articles were purchased* \nWithin doors he found the compensation of \nhis labors in the plenty of excellent provisions, \nas well as in the happmess of domestic society. \nA more particular description of his transi- \ntion from narrow to easy circumstances might \nbe given; but the mind that shall have ac- \nquired an idea of the habits of labour and sim- \nplicity, to which the industrious colonists were \naccustomed, will readily supply the omission. \nThe effect of this gradual acquisition of prop- \nerty, generally favorable to mdividual virtue \nand public felicity, should not however be \npassed over in silence. If there is something \nlascinating in the charms of a country life, from \nthe contemplation of beautiful Landscapes, \nthere is likewise something elevating to the \nsoul, in the consciousness of being lord of the \nsoil, and having the power of creating them. \nThe man can scarcely be guilty of a sordid \n\n\n\nLrre of general putnam 2^ \n\naction, or even descend to an ungenerous \nthought, who, removed from the apprehension \n6f v^ant, sees his farm daily meliorating and \nassuming whatever appearance he pleases io \njivrescribe. This situation converts tlie farmer \ninto a species of rural philosopher, bv inspir* \ning an nonest pride in nis rank as a ireeman^ \nflattering the natural propensity for personal \nindependence, and nourishing an unlimited \nhospitality and philanthropy in his social char- \nacter. \n\nBat the time had now arrived which was \nto turn the instruments of husbandry into wea- \npons of hostility, and to exchange the hunting \nof wolves, who had ravaged the sheep-folds, \nfor the pursuit after savages, who had desola- \nted the frontiers. Mr. Putnam was about 37 \nyears old, when the war between England and \nFrance, which prieceded the last, broke out in \nAmerica. His reputation must have been \nfavourably known to the government, since \namong the first troops that were levied hy \nConnecticut, in 1755, he was appointed to the \ncommand of a company in Lyman's regiment \nof Provincials. I have mentioned his age at \nthis period expressly to obviate a prevalent \nopinion, that he was far advanced in life when \nbe commenced his military service. \n\nAs he was extremely popular, he found no' \ndifiiculty in enlisting his complement of recruit^ \nfrom the most hardy, enterprizing and respect- \nable young men of his neighbourhood. The \nI'egiment joined the army, at the opening of \n\n3* \n\n\n\n26 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nthe campaign^ not far distant from Crowa- \nPoint. Soon after his arrival at camp, he be- \ncame intimately acquainted with the famous \npartizan Captain, afterwards Major Rogers, \nwith whom he was frequently associated in \ntraversing the wilderness, reconnoilering the \nenemy^s tines, gaining intelligence, and taking \nstraggling prisoners, as well as in beating up \nthe quarters and surprising the advanced pick- \nets of their army* For these operations a \ncorps of rangers was formed from the irregu- \nlars. ^ The first time Rogers and Putnam \nwere \"detached with a party of these light \ntroops, it was the fortune of the latter to pre- \nserve, with his own hand, the life of the for-< \nxner, and to cement their friendship with the \nblood of one of their enemies. \n\nThe object of this expedition was to obtain \nan accurate knowledge of the position and \nstate of the works at Crown-Point. It was \nimpracticable to approach with their party \nnear enough for this purpose, without oeing \ndiscovered. Alone, the undertaking was suf- \nficiently hazardous, on account of the swarms \nof hostile Indians who infested the woods. \nOur two partizans, however, left all their men \nat a convenient distance, with strict orders to \ncontinue concealed until their return. Having \nthus cautiously taken their arrangements, they \nadvanced with the profoundest silence ki the \nevening; and lay, during the night,. contiguous \nto the fortress. Early in the morning they \napproached so close as to be able to give sat^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. '27 \n\nisfactory information to the General who had \nsent them, on the several points to which their \nattention had been directed: but Captain Rog- \ners, being at a little distance from Captam \nPutnam, fortuitously met a stout Frenchman, \nwho instantly seized his fusee with one hand, \nand with the other attempted to stab him, \nwhile he called to an adjacent guard for as- \nsistance. The guard answered. Putnam, per- \nceiving the imminent danger of his friend, and \nthat no time was to be lost, or further alarm \ngiven by firing, ran rapidly to them, while \nthey were yet struggling, and with the but-end \nof his piece laid the Frenchman dead at his \nfeet. The partizans, to elude pursuit, pre- \ncipitated their flight, joined the party, aiid re- \nturned without loss to the encampment. Not \nmany occasions occurred for partizans to dis- \nplay their talents in the course of this summer. \nThe war was chequered with various fortuYie \nin different quarters — such as the total defeat \nof General Braddock,and the splendid victory \nof Sir William Johnson over the French \ntroops, commanded by the Baron Dieskau. \nThe brilliancy of this success was necessary \nto console the Americans for the disgrace of \nthat disaster. Here I might, indeed, take a \npride in contrasting the conduct of the British \nregulars, who had been ambuscaded on the \nMonongahela, with that of the Provincials \n(under Johnson) who, having been ^attacked \nin their lines, gallantly repulsed the enemy, \nand took their general priaoner^did I consider \n\n\n\n28 LfFK OW GtilfERAt PUTI^AM. \n\ninyself at liberty to swell this essay with re- \nflections on events, in which Putnam was not \ndirectly concerned. The time for which the \ncolonial troops engaged to serve terminated \nwith the campaign. Putnam was reappointed^ \nand again took the field in 1756. \n\nFew are so iCTorant of war as not to know^ \nthat military adventures, in the night, are al- \nways extremely liable to accidents. Captain \nPutnam, having been commanded to reconnoi- \ntre the enemy's camp at (he Ovens near Ticon^ \nderoga^ took the bmvo Lieutenant Robert \nDurkee as his companion. In attempting to \nexecute the^e orders, he narrowly missed be-* \ning taken himself in the first instance, and kill-* \ning his friend in the second. It was customa\" \nry for the British and Provincial troops to \nplace their fires round their camp, whicn fre- \nquently exposed them to the enemy's scouts \nand patroles. A contrary practice, then un- \nknown in the English army, prevailed among \nthe Frfench and Indians. The plan was much* \nmore rational ; they kept their fires in the cen-' \ntre, lodged their men circularly at a distance, \natid posted their centinels ki the surrounding \ndarkness. Our partizans approached the \neamp, and supposing the centries were with-* \nin the circle of fires, crept upon their hands' \nand kiiees with the greatest possible cautiony \nlintil, to their utter astonishment, they found \ntfaemselves in the thickest of the enemy. The \neentinels, discovering them, fired adci slightly \nwounded Durkee in die thigh. He and Put* \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTITAM. 29 \n\nham had no alterative. They fled. The lat- \nter, being foremost and scarcely able to see \nhis hand before him, soon plunged into a clay- \npit. Durkee, almost at the identical moment, \ncame tumblinff after. Putnam by no means \n\nE leased at flnoing a companion, and believing \nim to be one of the enemy, lifted his toma- \nhawk to give the deadly blow, when Durkee, \n(who had followed so closely as to know him) \nenquired, whether he had escaped unhurt. \nCaptain Putnajn instantly recognizing the \nvoice, dropped his weapon : and both, spring- \ning from the pit, made good their reti'eat to \nthe neighbouring ledges, amidst a shower of \nrandom shot. There they betook themselves \nto a large log, by the side of which they lodg- \ned the remainder of the night. Before they \nlay down. Captain Putnam said he had a little \nrum in his canteen, which could never be more \nacceptable or necessary ; but on examining the \ncanteen, which hung under his arm, he found \nthe enemy had pierced it with their balls, and \nthat there was not a drop of liquor left. The \nnext day he found fourteen bullet holes in his \nblanket \n\nIn the same summer a body of the enemy, \nconsisting of 600 men, attacked the baggage \nand provision waggons at a place called the \nhalf-way-brook ; it being equi-distant from \nFort Edward, and the south end of Lake \nGeorge. Having killed the oxen and plun- \ndered the waggons, they retreated with their \nbooty without having met with such resistance \n\n\n\n30 I^IFE OP GENERAL TVTlfJM. \n\nas m^lit hare been expected from the stren^tll \nof the escort. Geneml Webb, upon receiving \nintelligmice of this disaster, ordered the Cap- \ntains Fntnam and Rogers** to take 100 vol- \n\" unteers in boats, with two wall-pieces and \n'^two blunderbusses, and to proceed dowft \n\" Lake George to a certain point : there to \n** leave the batteaux under a proper guard, \n\" and thence to cross by land, so as to harrasa, \n** and, if practicable, intercept the retreating \n\" enemy at the narrows.\" 'These orders wer^ \nexecuted with so much punctuality, that th6 \nparty arrived at the destined place half ail \noour before the hostile boats came in view. \nHere they waited, under cover, until the enei- \nmy (ignorant of these proceedings) entered \nthe narrows with their oatteaux loaded with \nplunder. Then the volunteers poured upon \nthem volley after volley, killed mapy of th6 \noarsmen, sunk a number of their batteaux, and \nwould soon have destroyed the whole body of \nthe enemy, had not the unusual precipitancy \nof their passage (favoured by the wind) car- \nried them through the narrows into the wid^ \npart of South Bay, where they were out of the \nreach of musket-shot. The shattered rem- \nnant of the little fleet soon arrived at Ticon- \nderoga, and gave infoimation that Putnam and \nRogers were at the narrows. A fresh party \nwas instantly detached to cut them in pieces, \non their return to Fort-Edward. Our parti- \nsans, sensible of the probability of such an at- \ntempt, and being full twenty miles from their \n\n\n\nLIFE or GKHBKAL PUTNAM. 31 \n\nboats, strained eyey nerve to reach them as \nsooa as possible ; which the j effected the same \nnight. Next day, vhen^ they had returned as \nfar as Sabbath-Day point, they discoyered, on^ \ndhore, the beforementioned detachment of 300 \nmen, who had passed them in the night, and \nwho now, on perceiving our' party, took to \niheir boats with the greatest alacrity, and \nrowed out to give battle. They advanced in \nline, maintaining a good mein, and felicitating \nthemselves upon the prospect of an easy con- \nquest, from the great superiority of their num« \nbers. Flushed with these expectations, they \nwere permitted to come within pistd-shot be-^ \nfore a gun was fired. At once, the wall-pie- \nces and blunderbusses, which had been brought \nto rake them in the most vulnerable pomt, \nwere discharged. As no such reception had \nbeen foreseen, the assailants vrere thrown into- \nUie utmost disorder. Their terror and confu- \nsion were greatly increased by a well*directed, \nand most destructive fire of the small arms* \nThe larger pieces being reloaded, without an- \nnoyance, continued alternately with the mus-^ \nquetry to make dreadful havoc, until the rout* \nwas completed and the enemy driv.en back to> \nTiconderoga. In this action, one of the bark \ncanoes contained twenty Indians, of whom fif-^ \nteen were killed. Great numbers, from other \nboats, both of French and Indians, were seen^ \nto fall overboard : but the account of their to- \ntal loss could never be ascertained. Kogerir \nand Putnapi had but one man killed, and two- \n\n\n\n32 ' LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nslightly wounded. They now landed on the \npoint, and having refreshed their men at leis- \nure, returned in good order to the British \ncamp. \n\nSoon after these rencounters, as ingular kind \nof race was run by our nimble-footed Provin- \ncial and an active young Frenchman. The \nliberty of each was oy turns at stake. Gen- \neral Webb, wanting a prisoner for the sake \nof intelligence, sent Capt Putnam wjth five \nmen to procure one. The Captain concealed \nhimself near the road which leads from Ticon« \nderoga to the Ovens. His men seemed fond \nof shewing themselves, - which unsoldierlike \nconduct he prohibited with the severest repre- \nhension. This rebuke they imputed to unne- \ncessary fear. The observation is as true as \nvulgar, that persons distinguishable for temer- \nity, when there is no apparent danger, are \ngenerally poltroons whenever danger ap- \nproaches. They had not lain long, in the \nnigh grass, before a Frenchman and an Indian \npassed — the Indian was considerably in ad- \nvance. As soon as the former had ^one by, \nPutnam, relying on the fidelity of nis men, \nsprang up, ran, and ordered them to follow. \nAfter running about thirty rods, he seized the \nFrenchman by the shoulders, and forced him to \nsurrender: But his prisoner, looking round, \n\nETceiving no other enemy, and knowing the \ndian would be ready in a moment to assist \nhim, began to make an obstinate resistance. \nPutnam,, finding himself betrayed by his men \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GKI^RAL PUTNAM. 33 \n\ninto a perilous dilemma, let go his bdd, step- \nped back and snapped his piece, which was \nlevelled at the Frenchman's breast It missed \nfire. Upon this he thought it most prudent \nto retreat. The Frenchman, in turn, chased \nhim back to his men, who, at last, raised them- \nselves from the grass ; which hts pursuer es- \npying in good time for himself, made his es- \ncape. Putnam, mortified that these men had \nfrustrated his success, dismissed them with \ndisgrace; and not long,^fter accomplished \nhis object. Such little feats, as the capture of \na single prisoner, may be of infinitely more \nconsequence than some, who are unacquainted \nwith military affairs, would be apt to imagine. \nIn a country covered with woods, like that \npart of America, then the seat of war, the dif- \nficulty of procuring, and the importance of pos- \nsessing good intelligence, can scarcely be con- \nceived even by European commanders. They, \nhowever, who know its value, will i^ appre- \nciate lightly the services of an able parti2an; \n\nNotmng^worthy of reu^ark happened dur- \ning this campaign, except the loss of Oswego. \nThat fort, which had Wen built by General \nShirley, to protect the peltry trade, cover the \ncountry on the Mohawk- River, and facilitate \nan invasion of Canada, by Frontenac and Ni- \nagara, fell into the hands of the enemy, with a \ngarrison of sixteen hundred men, and one hun* \nred pieces of cannon. \n\nThe active services of Captain Putnam on \nevery occasion attracted the admiration of the \n\n4 \n\n\n\n34 tan or GsiaiiiAL putvam. \n\npubficy and ioduced the Legislature of Con- \noaetieut to prcmiote him to a majority in 1757« \n\nLord Loudon was then Commander in Chief \ndf die British forces in America. The expedi- \ntion aguost Crown-Pointy which from the com« \nineiicement of hostilities had been in contem* \nfdation, seemed to give place to a more impor- \ntant operation that was meditated a^wst \nLouisboui^. But the arnval of the Brest \n•quadron at that place prevented the attempt ; \nand die loss of Fort William Henrj served \nto class this with the two former unsuccessful \neampa^s. It was rumoured, and partiallj \ncredited at the time, that General Weob, who \ncommanded in the noiihem department, had \nearly intimation of the movement of the French \narmy, and roiffht have effectually succoured the \ngarrison* The. subsequent facts will place the \naffair in its proper light \n\nA few davs before the seige. Major Putnam, \nwith ivip hundred men, escorted General \nWebb from Fort Edward to Fort William \nHenij. The object was to examine the state \nof this fortification, which stood at the south- \nem extremity of Lake Geoi^* Several abor- \ntive attempts having been made by Major \nRogers and odiers in the night season, Major \nPutnam proposed to go down the lake in open \nday-light, lakid at Northwest-Bay, and tarry on \nshore until he could make satis&ctory discover* \nry of the enemy's actual situation at Ticondero- \npa and the adjacent posts. The plan (which \nbe suggested) of landing with only five men. \n\n\n\nLIPE or CffiKBRAL PUTNAMi 3S \n\nand sending back the boats, to prevent detec- \ntion, was deemed too hazardous by the Genera!: \nAt length, however, he was permitted to pro- \nceed with eighteen volunteers in three wnale \nboats ; but before he arrived at Northwe8t«-Bav \nhe discovered a body of men on an ish»ia; \nImmediately upon tfaiis, he left two boats to \nfish at a distance, that they miffht not occasion \nan alarm, and returned himself with the infor^i \nmation. The General, seeing him rowing \nback with great velocity, in a single boat, con* \neluded the others were captured, and sent a \nskiff, with orders for him alone to come on sfaorei \nAfter advising the Creneral of the circumstance \nes, he urged the expediency of returmng to \nmake further discoveries^ and bring off the \nboats. Leave was reluctantly given. He \nfound his people, and, passing stul onward^ \ndiscovered (by the aid of a good |>erspeotive \nglass) a large army in motion, fiy this time \nseveral of the advanced canoes had nearly sur« \nrounded him, but by the swiftness of his whale- \nboats, he escaped through the midst of them. \nOn his return ne informed the General min- \nutely of all he bad seen, and intiaiated his con* \nviction that the expedition must obvioui^ be \ndestined against Fort William Henry. That \ncommander, strictly enjoining silence on the \nsubject, directed him to put his men unde^ an \noath of secrecy, and to prepare, without loss of \ntime, to return to the Head Quarters of the \narmy. Major Putnam observed, ^ he hoped \n^ his Excellency did not intend to neglect so \n\n\n\n36 LIFE OF CnSNERAL PUTNAM. \n\n\" feir an opportanity of giving battle, should \n** the enemj presume to land.'' ^What do you \n** think we. should do here?\" replied the Gen- \neral. Accordingly the next day he returned, \nand the day after Colonel Monro was ordered \nfrom Fort Edward, with his regiment, to rehi- \nfo^rce the garrison. That officer took with \nhim all his rich baggage and camp equipage, \nnotwithstanding Major Putnam's advice to the \ncontrary. The day following his arrival, the \nenemy landed and besieged the place. \n' Tne Marquis de Montcalm, Commander \nin Chief for the French in Canada (intend- \ning to take advantage of the absence of « \nlarge proportion of the British force, which he \nunderstood to be employed under Lord Lou- \ndon against Louisbourg) had assembled what- \never men could be spared from Ticonderdga, \nCrown-Point, and the other garrisons : with \ntheSe he had combined a considerable corps of \nCanadians, and a larger body of Indians than \nhad ever before been collected ; making in the \nwhole an army of nearly eight thousand riien. \nOur garrison consisted of twenty-five hundred, \nand was commanded by Colonel Monro, a very \ngallant officer, who found the means of send- \ning express after express to General Webb, \nAVith an account of his situation, and the most \npressing solicitation for succour. In the mean \ntime, the army at Fort Edward, which, origin- \nally amounted to about four thousand, had \nbeen considerably augmented by Johnson's \nti-oops and the militia. On the 8th or 9th day \nafter the landing of the French, General \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIIV or QENftlUL PUTNAM* 37 \n\nJohnson (in consequence of repeated applica- \ntions) was suffered to march for the relief of \nthe garrison^ with all the Provincials, Militi€^ \nand Futnam's Rangers : l>ut before they had \nproceeded three mUes, the order was counter? \nmanded, and they returned. M. de Montcalm \ninformed Major Putnam, when a prisoner in \nCanada, that one of his running Indians saw \nand reported this movement; and, upon being \nquestioned relatively to the numbers, answer- \ned«in their figurative style, ^^ If you can cotmt \nthe leaves on me trees, you can comt ihfm.'*^ In \neffect,the operations of the siege were suspend- \ned, and preparations made for re-embarking^ \nwhen another of the runners reported that the \ndetachment had ffone back. The Marquis de \nMontcalm, provided with a good train of artil- \nlery, jneeting with no annoyance from the \nBritish army, and but inconsiderable interrupt \ntion from the garrison, accelerated his apt \nproaches so rapidly, as to obtain possession of \nthe fort in a short time after completing the \ninvestiture. An intercepted letter trom Gene-* \nral Webb, advising the surrender, was sent into \nthe fort to Colonel Monro by the French \nGeneral. ^ • \n\nThe ga rrison engaged not to serve for eigh- \nteen montfis, and were permitted to march out \nwith the honours of war. But the savages \nregarded not the capittdation, nor could thej \nbe restrained by the utmost exertion of the \nCommanding Omcer, from committing the \nmost outrageous acts oi cniel^. They strij^ \n\n\n\n38 LtPE OF GENERAL FUTKAlf.' \n\nped and plundered all the prisoners, and mur^ \ndered greaj numbers in cold blood. Those \nwho escaped by flight, or the protection of the \nFrench, arrived in a forlorn condition at Fort \n£dward: Among these was. the commandant \nof the garrison. \n\nThe day succeeding this deplorable scene \nof carnage and barbarity, Major Putnam hav- \ning been dispatched with his Rangers, to watch \nthe motions of the enemy, came to the shore, \nwhen their rear was scarcely beyond the reach \nof musket-shot. They had carried off all the \ncannon, stores and water-craft. The fort \nwas demoFished. The barracks, the out-hous- \nes and suttlers' booths were heaps of ruios. \nThe fires, not yet extinct, and the smoke, of* \nfensive frcfm the mucilaginous nature of the \nfuel, but 'ilfy concealed irmumerable fragmaits \nof human skulls and bones, and, in some in* \nstances, carcases half-consumed. Dead bodies, \nweltering in blood, were every where to^be \nseen, violated, with all the wanton mutilations \nof savage ingenuity. More thati one hundred \nwomen, some with their brains still oozing \nfrom the battered headsi others with their \nwhole hair wrenched collectively with the skin \nfrom the \"bloody skulls, and many (with their \nthroats cut) most inhumanly stabbed and \nbutchered, lay stripped entirely naked, with \ntheir bowels torn out, and afforded a spectacle \ntoo horrible for description. \n• Not long after this misfortune. General Ly- \nman succeeded to the command of Fort £a- \n\n\n\nI^IFE OF G£J(2RAL PUTNAM. 39 \n\nward. He resolved to strengthen it' For \nthis purpose one hundred and fifty men were \nemployed in cutting timber. To cover them, \nCaptain Little was posted (with fifty, British \nRegulars), At the head of a thick swamp about \none hundred rods eastward of the lort — to \nwhich his communic^ytion lay over a tongue of \nland, formed on the ifie side by the swamp, \nand by a creek on the other. \n\nOne morning, at day break, a centin^l saw \nindistinctly severa^l birds, as he conceived, \ncome from the swamp and fiy over him with \nincredible swiftness. While he was ruminat* \ningon these wonderful birds, and endeavouring \nto form some idea of their iColour, shape and \nsize, an arrow buried itself in the limb of a tree \njust above his head. He now discovered the \nquality and design of these winged messengers \nof fate, and gave the alarm. Instantly the \nworking party began to retreat along the, de- \nfile. A lar^e body of sava^s had concealed \nthemselves m the morass before the guard was \nposted, and were attempting in this way tokill \nthe centinel without noise,with design to surprise \nthe whole party. Finding the alarm given, \nthey rushed from the covert, sliot and toma- \nhawked those who were nearest at h^nd, and \npressed hard on the remainder of the unarmed \nfii^tives. Captain Little .flew to their rcdief, \nacra^ by pouring on the Indians a-well timed fire, \ncheckea the pursuit, and enabled such of the \nfatigue-^nen as did not fillip the ^rst, onset, to \ni?etire to the ibrt Thitbei^ h? seat for as^i^ \n\n\n\n40 LIFE OF OERBRAL PUTI^AII. \n\nance, his little party being almost orerpowefv \ned by numbers. >ut the commandant, imag. \nioing that the main bodj of the enemy were \napproaching for a general assault, called in \nhis out-posts and shut the gates. \n\nMajor Putnam lay, with nis Rangers, on an \nisland adjacent to the fort. Havuig heard \nthe musquetry, and learned that his friend \nCiaptain Little was in the utmost peril, he \nplunged into the river at the head of nis corps, \nand waded through the water towards tne \nplace of engagement This brought him so \nnear to the fort, that General Lyman apprized \nof his design, and unwilling that the lives of a \nfew more brave men should be exposed to \nwhat he deemed inevitable destruction, mount- \ned the parapet and ordered him to proceed oo \nfurther. The major only took time to make \nthe best short apology be could, and marched \non. This is the only instance in the whole \ncourse of his military service wherein be did \nnot pay the strictest obedience to orders ; and \nin this instance his motive was highly conunen* \ndable. But when such conduct, even if sanc^ \ntified by success, is passed over with impunity, \ntt demonstrates that all is not right in the \nmilitary system. In a disciplined army, such \nas that of the United States became mider \n(Seneral Washington, an officer guilty of a \nslighter vicJatien of orders, however elevated \nin rank or meritorious in servicey would have \nbeen brought before the bar of a Court Mar- \ntial. Were it not fw the seductive t^deney \n\n\n\ntIF£ 6F general PITTNAM. 41 \n\nof a brave man^s example, I miffht have been \nspared the mortification of making these re- \nmarks on the conduct of an officer, whose dis- \ntinguishing characteristics were promptitude \nfor duty and love of subordination, as well as \ncheerfulness to encounter every species of dif- \nficulty and danger. \n\nThe Rangers of Putnam soon opened th^r \nway for a junction with the little handful of \nRegulars, who still obstinately maintained their \nground. By his advice the whole rushed im- \npetuously with shouts and huzzas into the \nswamp. The savages fled on every side; and \nwere chased, with no inconsiderable loss on \ntheir part, as long as the day-light lasted. On \nours only one man was killed in the pursuit* \nHis death was immediately revenged by that \nof the Indian who shot him. This Indiao was \none of the runners — a chosen body of active \nyoung men, who are made use of not only to \nprocure intelligence and convey tidings, but al- \nso to guard the rear on a retreat. \n\nHere it will not* be unseasonable to mention \nsome of the customs in war peculiar to the \naborigines, which on the present as well as \nother occasions, they put in practice. When- \never a retreating, especially a flying party had \ngained the summit of a rising ground, they \nsecreted one or two runners behind trees, \ncopses, or bushes to^ire at the enemy upon \ntheir ascending the hill. This commonly ac- \ncasioned the enemy to halt and form for battle. \nIn the interim the runners used such dexterity \n\n\n\n4S LIFE or GBNERAL fVTVAWL \n\nas to be rarely discovered, or if discoreredi \nthe^ vanished behiad the height and rejoined \ntheir brother warriors, who, having thus stol- \nen a distance, were oftentimes seen by their \npursuers no more. Or if the pursuers were \ntoo eager thi^ seldom failed to atone for their \nrashness by falling into an ambuscade. The \nMohawks, who were afterwards much employ- \ned in scouts under the orders of Major Putnam^ \nand who were perfectly versed in all the wilei \naod stratagems of their countrymen, shewed \nhim the mcme of avcuding the evils of either \nalternative. In suspicious thickets, and at the \nborders of every considerable eminence, a mo* \nmentary pause was made, while they, in differ* \nent parts, penetrated or, ascended with a eati- \ntiousness tnat cannot be easily described \nTbejft* seemed all eye and ear. W hen they \nfound no lurking mischief, they would beckon \nwith the hand« and pronounce the word \n^^OwiSH,^' with a hmg labial hissing, the O being \nalmost quiescent This was ever the watch* \nword for the main body to advance. \n\nIndians who went to war together, and \nwho, for any reason found it necessary to \nseparate into different routes, always left two \nor three runners at the place of separation, to \ngive timely notice to either party in case of \npursuit. \n\nIf a warrior chanced to straggle and lose \nhimself in the woods, or be retarded by acci- \ndent or wound, the party missing him would \nfrequently, on their march, break down a \n\n\n\nUVB W QWrnRAh PUTHAM. 43 \n\nbush or a Bhntb, and leave the top pointing in \nthe direction they had gone, that tne strag^er, \nwhen he should behold it, might shape bi. \ncourse accordingly. \n\nWe come to the campajgn when General \nAbercrombie took the command at Fort Ed- \nward. That General ordered Major Putnam, \nwith sixty men, to proceed by land to South« \nBay, on Lake Geoirge, for the purpose of \nmaking discoveries, and intercepting the ene- \nmy's parties. The latter, in compliance with \nthese orders, posted himself at Wood-Creek, \nnear its entrance into \\South-Bay. On this \nbank, which forms a jutting precipice ten or \ntwelve feet above the water, he erected a \nstone pi^rapet thirty feet in length, and mask- \ned it with young pme-treesr, cut at a distance, \nand so artfully planted as to imitate the natu* \nral growth. From hence he sent back fifteen \nof his men, who had fallen sick. Distress for \nwant of provisions, oo^asioned by the length \nof march, and time spent on this temporlr^ \nfortification, compellea him to deviate from a \nrule he had established, never to permit a gun \nto be fired but at an enemy while on a scout \nHe was now obliged himself to shoot a buck, \nwhich had jumped into the creek, in order to \neke out their scanty subsistence until the fourth \nday after the completion of the woi^s. About \nten o'clock that evenii^, one of a^ men on \nduty at the margin of the bay, informed him \nthat a fleet of bark canoes, nlled with men, \nwas steering towards the mouth df the credc. \n\n\n\n44 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM* \n\nHe immediately called in all his centinele, and \nordered every man to his post. A profound \nstillness reigned in the atmosphere, and the \nfull moon shone with uncommon brightness. \nThe creek, whickthe enemy entered, is about \nsix rods wide, ana the bauK opposite to the \nparapet above- twenty feet high. It was in- \ntended to permit the canoes in front to pass— \nthey had accordingly just passed^ when a sol- \ndier accidentally struck his firelock against a \nstone. The commanding officer in the van \ncanoe heard the noise, and repeated several \ntildes the savage watch-word, — Owish ! In- \nstantly the canoes huddled together, with their \ncentre precisely in front of the works, cover- \ning the creek for a considerable distance above \nand below« The officers appeared to be in \ndeep consultation, and the fleet on the point of \nreturning, when Major Putnam, who had or- \ndered his men in the most peremptory manner \nnot to fire until he should set the example, \ngave the signal, by discharging his piece. \nThey fired. Nothing could exceed the inex- \ntricable confusion and apparent consternati<ui \noccasioned by this well-concerted attack. But, \nat last, the enemy finding, from the unfrequen- \ncy rthough there was no absolute intermission) \nin the firing, that the number of our men must \nbe small, resolved to land below and surround \nthem. PuUiam, apprehensive of this from the \nmovement, sent Lieutenant Robert Durkee,* \n\n• As the name of the brave Darkee v^ill occur no more in these \ns)ieet8, I may be ioduiged in mentioning his melancholy fate* He \n\n\n\nLIPE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 45 \n\nwith twelve men, about thirty rods down the \ncreek, who arrived. in time to repulse the party \nwhich attempted to land. Another small de« \ntachment, under Lieutenant Parsons, was or- \ndered up the creek to prevent any similar at- \ntempt. In the mean time Major Putnam kept \nup, through the whole night, an incessant and \ndeadly fire on the main body of the enemy, \nwithout receiving any thing in return but shot \nvoid of effect, accompanied with dolorous \ngroans, miserable shrieks, and dismal savage \nyells. After day-break he was advised that \none part of the enemy had effected a landing \nconsiderably below, and were rapidly advanc- \ning to cut off his retreat. Apprised of the \ngreat superiority still opposed to him, as well \nas of the situation of his own soldiers, some of \nwhom were entirely destitute of ammunitionf \nand the rest reduced to one or two rounds per \nman, he commanded them to swing tneir \npacks. By hastening the retreat, in good or-^ \nder, they had just time to retire far enough up \nthe creek to prevent being enclosed. During \nthis long-continued action, in which the Amer^ \nicans had slain at least five times their own \nnumber, only one Provincial and one Indian \nwere wounded on their side. These unfortu- \nnate men had been sent off for camp in the \n\nstirviyed this var, and was appointed a Captain tn that war whioh \nterminated in the acknowledgment^ our Independence In 177S \nhe was wounded and taken prisoner by the savages at the battle of \nWioming, on the Susquehannah. Having been condemned to be \nburnt, the Indians kept him in the flames with pitoh-forksi until \nhe expired in the most excruciating torments. \n\n5 \n\n\n\ny \n\n\n\n46 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nnight) with two men to assist them, and di« \nrections to proceed bj Wood-Creek as the \nsafest, though not the shortest route. But \nhaving taken a nearer way, they were pursu- \ned and overtaken by the Indians, who, from \nthe blood on the leaves and bushes, believed \nthat they were on the trail of our whole par- \nty. The wounded, despairing of mercy, and \nunabte to fly, insisted that the well soldiers \nshould make their escape, which, on a mo- \nment's deliberation, they effected. The Pro- \nTincial, whose thigh was broken by a ball, up- \non the approach of the savages, fired his \nEiece, and killed three of them ; after which \ne was quickly hacked in pieces. The Indian, \nhoMi^ever, was saved alive. This man Major \nPutnam saw afterwards in Canada, where he \nlikewise learned that his enemy, in the ren- \ncounter at Wood-Creek, consisted of five hun- \ndred French and Indians, under the command \nof the celebrated partizan Molang, and that \nno party, since the war, had suffered so se- \nverely, as, more than one-half of those who \nwent out never returned. \n. Our brave little company, reduced to forty \nII) number, had proceeded along the bank of \nthe creek about an hour's march, when Major \nPutnam, being in front, was fired upon by a \nparty just at hand. He, rightly appreciating \nthe .advantage often obtained by assuming a \nbold countenance on a critical occasion, in a \nstentoropibonick tone, ordered his men to rush \non the enemy, :and promised that they should \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 4t1 \n\nsoon give a good account of them. It proved \nto be a scout of Provincials, who. conceived \nthey were firing upon the French; but the \ncommanding omcer, knowing Putnam's voice, \ncried out, \" that they were all friends.\"— -Upoa \nthis the Major told him abruptly, \" that, \nfriends or enemies, they all deserved to be \nhanged for Qot killing more when they had \nso mir a shot.'' In fact, but one man vtras \nmortally wounded. While these things were \ntransacted, a faithful soldier, whose amrnuni* \ntion had been nearly exhausted, made hfs way \nto the fort, and gave such information, that \nGeneral Lymap was detached with five hun- \ndred men to cover the retreat. Major Put- \nnam met them at only twelve miles distance \nfrom the fort, to which they returned the \nnext day. \n\nIn the winter of 1757, when Colonel Havi- \nland was Commandant at Fort Edward, the \nbarracks adjoining to the north-west bastion \ntook fire. They extended within twelve feet \nof the magazine, which contained ' three hun- \ndred barrels of powder. On its first discovery, \nthe fire raged with great violence. The Com- \nmandant endeavoured, in vain, by discharging \nsome pieces of heavy artillery against the sup- \nporters of this flight of barracks, to level them \nwith the ground. Putnam arrived from the \nisland where he was stationed at the moment \nwhen the blaze approached that end which \nwas contiguous to the magazine. Instantly a \nvigorous attempt was made to extinguish the \n\n\n\n48 3LIFE OF GSNERAL PUTNAM* \n\neonflagration. A waj was opened by a pos- \ntern gate to the river, and the soldiers were \nemployed in bringing water ; which he, hav- \ning mounted on a ladder to the eves of the \nbuilding, received and threw upon the flame* \nIt contmufed, notwithstanding their utmost ef- \nforts, to gain upon them. He stood, enveloped \nin smoke, so near the sheet of fi^e, that a pair \nof thick blanket mittens were burnt entirely \nfrom his hands ; he was supplied with another \npair dipt in water. Colonel Haviland, fearing \nthat he would perish in the flames, called to \nhim to come aown. But he entreated that \nhe might be suffered to remain, since destruc- \ntion must inevitably ensue if their exertions \nshould be remitted. The gallant Comman- \ndant, not less astonished than charmed at the \nboldness of his conduct, forbade any more ef- \nfects to be carried out of the fort, animated \nthe men to redoubled diligence, and exclaim- \ned, ** if we must be blown up, we will go all \ntogether.\" At last, when the barracks were \nseen to be tumbling, Putnam descended, plac- \ned himself at the interval, and continued from \nan incessant rotatipn of replenished buckets to \npour water upon the magazine. The outside \nplanks were already consumed by the prox- \nimity of the fire, and as only one thickness of \ntimber intervened, the trepidation now became \ngeneral and extreme. Putnam, still undaunt- \ned, covered with a cloud of cinders^ and \nscorched with the intensity of the heat, main- \ntained his position until the fire subsided, and \n\n\n\nLlfB OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 49 \n\nthe dianger was wholly over. He had con- \ntended for one hour and an half with that \nterrible element His legs, his thighs, his \narms, and his face were bhstered ; and when \nhe pulled off his second pair of mittens, the \nskin from his hands and fingers followed \nthem. It was a month before he recovered. \nThe Commandant, to whom his merits had \nbefore endeared him, could not stifle the emo- \ntions , of gratitude, due to the man who had \nbeen so instrumental in preserving the maga- \nzine, the fort, and the garrison. \n\nThe repulse before Ticonderoga took place \nin 1758. General Abercrombie, the British \nCommander in Chief in America, conducted \nthe expedition. His army, which amounted \nto nearly sixteen thousand Regulars and Pro- \nvincials, was amply supplied with artillery and \nmilitary stores. This well-appointed corps \npassed over Lake George, and landed, with- \nout opposition, at the point of destination. \nThe troops advanced in columns. Lord Howe, \nhaving Major Putnam with him, was in front \nof the centre. A body of about five hundred \nmen, (the advance or pickets of the French \narmy) which bad fled at first, began to skir- \nmish with our left. \"Putnam,\" §aid Lord \nHowe, \" what means that firing ?\" \"I know \n-not, but with your Lordship's leave will see,'* \nreplied the former. \" I will accompany you,\" \nrejoined the gallant young nobleman. ^ In vain \ndid Major Putnam attempt to dissuade him by \n\n5* \n\n\n\n50 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nBBjmg — '^ Mj Lord, if [ am killed, the loss ot \nmy liie will be of little consequence, but the \npreservation of jour's is of infinite importance \nto this army.\" The only answer was, '* Put- \nnam, your life is as dear to you as mine is to \nme ; 1 am determined to go.'' One hundred \nof the van, under Major Putnam, filed off with \nLord Howe. They soon met the left flank of \nthe enemy's advance, by whose first fire his \nLordship fell. — ^It was a loss indeed; and \nparticularly felt in the operations which oc- \ncurred three days afterwards. His manners \nand his virtues had made him the idol of the \narmy. From his first arrival in America^ he \nhad accommodated himself^ and his regiment \nto the peculiar nature of the service. Exem- \nplary to the officer, a friend of the soldier, the \nmodel of discipline, he had not failed to en- \ncounter every hardship and hazard. Nothing \ncould be more calculated to inspire men with \nthe rash animation of rage, or to temper it \nwith the cool perseverance of revenge, than \nthe sight of such a hero, so beloved, fallen in \nhis country's cause. It had the effect. Put- \nnam's party, having cut their way obliquely \nthrougn the enemy's ranks, and - having been \njoinedby Captain D'EU, with twenty men, to- \n\nSither with some other small parties, charged \nem so furiously in rear, that nearly three \n\n• He cut his hair short, aad indueed the regiment to follow the \nfxample. He fashioned their cloathing for the activity of serrice, \nand divested bunielf and them of eyery article of saperflaoaa bae- \ngage* ^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM; 31 \n\nhundred were killed on the spot, and one \nhundred and forty-eight made prisoners. \n\nIn the mean time, from the unskilfulness of \nthe guides, some ci pur columns were bewil- \ndered. The left wing, seeing Putnam's party \nin their front, advancing over the dead bodies \ntowards them, commenced a brii&k and heav^ \nfire, which killed a serjeant and several pn- \nvates. Nor could they, by sounds or signs^ \nbe convinced of their niistake, until Major \nPutnam, preferring (if heaven had thus or- \ndained it) the loss of his own life to the loss \nof the lives of his brave associates, ran through \nthe midst of the flying balls, and prevented \nthe impending catastrophe. \n\nThe tender feelings which Major Putnam \npossessed taught him to. respect an unfortu- \nnate foe, and to strive, by every lenient art in \nhis power, to alleviate the miseries of war. \nFor this purpose he remained on the field \nuntil it began to grow dark, employed in col- \nlecting such of the enemy as were left wound- \ned, to one place ; he gave theoi all the liquor \nand little refreshments which he could pro- \ncure ; he furnished to each of them a blanket ; \nhe put three blankets under a French serjeant \nwho was badly wounded through the bodv) \nand placed him in an easy posture by the sioe \n^f a tree : the poor fellow could only squeeze \nhis hand with an expressive grasp. \"Ah,'' \nsaid Major Putnam, \"depend upon it, my \nbrave soldier, you shall be brought to the \n\n\n\n52 LfFB OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\ncamp as soon as possible, and the same t^are \nshall be taken of you as if you were my broth- \ner.\" The next momine Major Rogers was \nsent to reconnoitre the neM, and to bring off \nthe wounded ; prisoners ; but finding the \nwounded unable ta help themselves, in order \nto save trouble, he despatched every one of \nthem to the world of spirits. Putnam^s was \nnot the only heart that bled. The Provincial \nand British officers, who became acquainted \nwith the fact, were struck with inexpressible \nhorror. \n\nTiconderoga is surrounded on three sides \nby water ; on the fourth, for some distance, \nextends a dangerous morass ; the remainder \nwas then fortified with a line eight feet high, \nand planted with artillery. For one hundred \nyards i in front the plain was covered with \ngreat trees, cut for the purpose of defence, \nwhose interwoven and sharpened branches \nprojected outwards. Notwithstanding these \nimpediments, the engineer who had been em- \nployed to reconnoitre, reported as his opinion, \nthat the works might be carried with mus- \nketry. The difficulty and delay of dragging \nthe battering cannon over grounds almost im- \npracticable, mduced the adoption of this fatal \nadvice — to which, however, a rumour that the \ngarrison, already consisting of four or five \nthousand men, Was on the point of being aug- \nmented with three thousand more, probaJbly \ncontributed. The attack was as spirited in \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUT5AH. 53 \n\nexecution as ill-judged in design. The as- \nsailants^ after having been for more than four \nhours exposed to a most fatal fire, without \nmaking any impression by their reiterated and \nobstinate proofs of valour, were ordered to re- \ntreat. Major Putnam, who had acted as an \naid in bringing the Provincial regiments suc- \ncessively to action, assisted in preserving or- \nder. It was said that a great number of the \nenemy were shot in the head, every other \npart naving been concealed behind their works. \nThe loss on our ^e was upwards of two \nthousand killed and wounded. Twenty-five \nhundred stands of arms were taken by the \nFrench. Our army, after sustaining this hav- \nock, retreated with such extraordinary precip- \nitation, that they regained their camp at the \nsouthward of Lake George the evening after \nthe action. \n\nThe successes in other parts of America \nmade amends for this defeat. Louisbourg, af- \nter a vigorous siege, was reduced by the Gen- \nerals Aniherst and Wolf : Frontenac, a post of \nimportance on the communication between \nLake Ontario and the St. Lawrence, surren- \ndered to Colonel Bradstreet: and Fort Du \nQuesne, situated at the confluence of Monon- \ngahela with the Ohio, (the possession of which \nHad kindled the flame of war that now spread \nthrough the four quarters of the globe) was \ncaptured by General Forbes. \n\n\n\n54 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nA few adventures, in which the public inter- \nests were little concerned, but which, from \ntheir peculiarity, appear worthy of being pre- \nserved, happened before the conclusion oi the \nyear. As one day Major Putnam chanced to \nlie with a batteau and tive men, on the eastern \nshore of the Hudson, near the Rapids, con- \ntiguous to which Fort Miller stood, his n^n \non the opposite bank had given him to under- \nstand, that a large body oi savages were in his \nrear, and would be upon him in a moment \nTo stay and be sacrificed — to attempt crossing \nand be shot— or to go down to the falls, virith \nan almost absolute certainty of being drowned, \nwere the sole alternatives tnat presented them- \nselves to his choice. So instantaneously was \nthe latter adopted, that one man who had ram- \nbled a little from the party, was, of necessity, \nleft, and fell a miserable victim to savage bar- \nbarity. The Indians arrived on the shore \nsoon enough to fire many balls on the batteau \nbefore it could be got under way. No sooner \nhad our batteau-men escaped, by favour of the \nrapidity of the current, beyond the reach of \nmusket-shot, than death seemed only to have \nbeen avoided in one form to be encountered in \nanother not less terrible. Prominent rocks, \nlatent shelves, absorbing eddies, and abrupt \ndescents, for a quarter of a mile, afforded \nscarcely the smallest chance of escaping with- \nout a miracle. Putnam, trusting himself to a \ngood Providence, whose kindness he had ofteD \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL l>UTNAM . 55 \n\nexperienced, rather than to men, whose ten- \nderest mercies are cruelty, was now seen to \nplace himself sedately at the helm, and afford \nan astonishing spectacle of serenity. His com- \npanions, with ^ mixture of terror, admiration \nand wonder, saw him incessantly changing the \ncourse, to avoid the jaws of ruin, that seemed \nexpanded to swallow the whirling boat. \nTwice he turaed it fairly round to shun the \nrifts of rocks. Amidst these eddies, in which \nthere was the greatest danger of its founder- \ning, at one moment the sides were exposed to \nthe fury of the waves ; then the stern, and \nnext the bow glanced obliauely onward, with \ninconceivable velocity. — With not less amaze- \nment the savages beheld him sometimes mount- \ning the billows, then plunging abruptly down, \nat other times skilfully veering from the rocks, \nand shooting through the only narrow passage; \nuntil, at last, they viewed the boat safely glid- \ning on the smooth surface of the stream below. \nAt this sight, it is asserted, that these rude \nsons of nature were affected with the same \nkind of superstitious veneration which the Eu- \nropeans, in the dark ages^ entertained for some \nof their most valorous champions. They \ndeemed the man invulnerable, whom their ballsy \non Jbis pushing from shore, could not touch ; \nand whom they had seen steering in safety \ndown the rapids that had never ^fore been \n\n{)a8sed. They conceived it would be an at- \nront against the Great Spirit to attempt to kill \n\n\n\n56 LIFE OP 6EHERAL PUTNAM. \n\nthis favoured mortal with powder and ball^ if \nthey should ever see jand kdow him again. \n\nIn the month of August five hundred men \nwere employed, under the orders of Majors \nRogers and Putnam, to watch the motions of \nthe enemy near Ticonderoga. At South-Bay \nthey separated the party into two equal divis* \nions, and Rogers took a position on Wl ood- \nCreek, twelve miles distant from Putnam. \n\nUpon being, some time afterwards, discov- \nered, they formed a re-union, and concerted \nmeasures for returning to Fort Edward. \nTheir march through me woods was m three \ndivisions by files : the right commanded by \nRogers, the left by Putnam, and the centre \nby Captain t)'Ell. The first night they en- \ncamped on the banks of Clear River^ about a \nmile from old Fort Ann, which had been for- \nmerly built by General Nicholson. Next morn- \ning Major Rogers, and a British officer named \n^rwin, mcautiously suffered themselves, from a \nspirit of false emulation, to be engaged in firing \nat a mark. Nothing could have been more \nrepugnant to the military principles of Putnam \nthan such conduct, or reprobated by him in \nmore pointed terms. As soon as the heavy \ndew which had fallen the preceding ni^t \nwould permit, the detachment moved in 4one \nbody, Putnam being in front, D^Eil in centre, \nand Rogers in the rear. The impervious \ngrowth of shrubs and under-brush that had \nsprung up, where the land had been partially \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 57 \n\ncleared some years before, occasioned this \nchange in the order of march. At the moment \nof moving, the famous French partizan Mo- \nlang, who had been sent with nve hundred \nmen to intercept our party, was not more than \none mile and an half distant from them. Hav- \ning heard the firing, he hastened to lay an am- \nbuscade precisely in that part of the wood \nmost favourable to his project. Major Put- \nnam was just emerging from the thicket, into \nthe common forest, when the enemy rose, and \nwith discordant yells and whoops, commenced \nan attack upon the right- of his division. Sur- \nprised, but undismayed, Putnam halted, return- \ned the fire, and passed the word for the other \ndivisions to advance for his support. D'EU \ncame. The action, though widely scattered, \nand principally fought between man and man, \nsoon grew general and intensely warm. It \nwould be as difficult as useless to describe this \nirregular and ferocious mode of fighting. Rog- \ners came not up; but, as be declared after- \nwards, formed a circular file between our par- \nty and Wood-Creek, to prevent their being \ntaken in rear or enfiladea. Successful as he \ncommonly was, his conduct did not always \npass without unfavourable imputation. Not- \nwithstanding, it was a current saying in the \ncamp, \"that Rogers always seni^ but Putnam \nled his men to action,'' yet, injustice, it ought \nto be remarked here, that the latter has never \nbeen known, in relating the story of this day's \n\n\n\n6s LIFE OF GENERAL PUTHAM. \n\ndisaster, to affix any stigma upon the condact \nof the Ibnner. \n\nMajor Putnam, perceiynig it would be im- \npracticable to <;ross the creek, determined to \ntnaintain his gromid. inspired by his exam* \npie, the officers and men behaTed with great \noravery: sometimes they fooght ag^re^telj \nin open Tiew, and sometimes indiviaually un- \nder coyer ; taking aim jfrom behind the bodies \nof trees, and actmg in a manner independent \nof each other. For himself, having discharged \nhis fuzee several times, at length it missed fire, \nwhile the muzzle was pressed again43t the \nbreast of a large and well proportioned savage. \nThis warrior J availing himself of the indefensi- \nble attitude of his adversary, with a tremen- \ndous war-hoop, sprang forward, with his lifted \nbatchet, and compelled him to surrender; and \nhaving disarmed and bound him fast to a tree, \nreturned to the battle. \n\nThe intrepid Captains D^Ell and Harman, \n^ho now commanded, were forced to give \nground for a little distance : the savages, coo- \nceiving this to be the certain harbinger of tic- \ntory, rushed impetuously on, with dreadful and \nredoubled cries. But our two partizans, col- \nlecting a handful of brave men, gave the pu^ \nsuers so warm a reception as to oblige theiD) \n4n turn, to retreat a little beyond the spot at \nwhich the action had commenced Here thej \nmade a stand. This change of ground occa- \nsioned the tree to which rutnam was tied to \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GXMBRAL FWTWM. 09 \n\nbe directly between the fire of the two parties^ \nHuman imagination can hardly fi^re to itself a \nmore deplorable situation. The balls flew \nincessantly from either side^ many struck the \ntree, while some passed through the sleeyef \nand skirts of his coat. In this state of jeopar- \ndy, unable to move his body, to stir his limbs^ \nor even to incline his head, he remained more \nthan an hour. So equally balanced, and so \nobstinate was the fight! At one moment, \nwhile the battle swerved in favour of the ene- \nmy, a youn^ savage chose an odd way of dis* \ncovering his humour. He found Putnam \nbound. He m^ht have dispatched him at a \nblow. But he loved better to excite the ter« \nrors of the prisoner, by hurling a tomahawk \nat his head, or rather k should seem his object \nwas to see bow near he could throw it with* \nout touching him-^the weapon struck in the \ntree a number of times at a nair's breadth dis* \ntance from the mark. .When the Indian had \nfinished his amusement, a French bas-^officer \n(a much more inveterate savage by nature^ \nthough descended from so humane and polish- \ned a nation)perceiving Putnam, came up to \nhim, and, levelling a iuzee within a foot of his \nbreast, attempted to discharge it — it missed \nfire. Ineffectually did the intended victim so- \nlicit the treatment due to his situation, by re- \npeating that he was a prisoner of war. The \ndegenerate Frenchman did not understand the \nlanguage of honour or of nature : deaf to their \n\n\n\n60 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nToice, and dead to sensibility, he Tiolentl j, and \nrepeatedly, pushed the muzzle of his gun \nagainst Putnam's ribs, and finally gave him a \ncruel blow on the jaw with the but-end of his \npiece. After this dastardly deed he left him. \nAt length the active intrepidity of D'EU \nand Harman,\"^ seconded by the persevering \nvalour of their 'followers, prevailed. They \ndrove from the field the enemy, who left \nabout ninety dead behind them. As they \nwere retiring, Putnam was untied by tl^e In- \ndian who had made him prisoner, and whom \nhe afterwards called master. Having been \nconducted for some distance from the place of \naction, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stock- \nings and shoes ; loaded with as many of the \npacks of the wounded as could be piled upon \nnim ; strongly pinioned, and his wnsts tiea as \nclosely together as they could be pulled with \na cord. After he had marched, through no \npleasant paths, in this painful manner, for ma- \nny a tedious mile, the party (who were exces- \nsively fatigued) halted to breathe. His hands \nwere now immoderately swelled from the \ntightness of the ligature; and the pain had \nbecome intolerable. His feet were so much \nscratched, that the blood dropped fast from \nthem. Exhausted with bearing a burden above \nhis strength, and frantic with torments exqui- \nsite beyond endurance, he entreated the Irish \n\n^ This worthy officer is still living (1788) at Marlborough iir tho \nState of MassachuscttB. \n\n\n\nIIFB OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 61 \n\ninterpreter to implore, as the last and onljr \ngrace he desired of the savages, that thej \nwould knock him on the head and take his \nscalp at once, or loose his hands. A French \nofficer, instantly interposing, ordered his hands \nto be unbound, and some of the packs to be \ntaken off. By this time the Indian who cap- \ntured him, and had been absent with the \nwounded, coming up, gave him a pair of mo- \ncasons, and expressed great indignation at \nthe unworthy treatment his prisoner had suf- \nfered. \n\nThat savage chief again returned to the \ncare of the wounded, and the Indians, about \ntwo hundred in number, went before the rest \nof the party to the place where the whole \nwere that night to encamp. They took with \nthem Major Putnam, on whom, besides innu- \nmerable other outrages, they had the barbarity \nto inflict a deep wound with the tomahawk ia \nthe left cheek. His sufferings were in' this \nplace to be consummated. A scene of horror, \nmflnitely greater than had ever met his eyes \nbefore, was now preparing* It was deter-^ \nmined to roast him alive. For this purpose \nthey led him into a dark forest, stripped him \nnaked, bound him to a tree, and piled dry \nbrush, with other fuel, at a small distance, in \na circle round him. They accompanied their \nlabours, as if for his funeral dirge, with \nscreams and sounds inimitable but by savage \nvoices. Then they se( the piles on fire^ A \n\n6* \n\n\n\n62 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM,. \n\nsudden shower damped the rising flame' Still \nthey strove to kindle it, until, at last, the blaze \nran fiercely round the circle. Major Putnam \nsoon began to feel the scorching heat. His \nhands were so tied that he could move his \nbody. He often shifted sides as the fire ap- \nproached. This sight, at the very idea of \nwhich all but savages must shudder, afforded \nthe highest diversion to his inhuman tormen- \ntors, who demonstrated the delirium of their \njoy by correspondent yells, dances, and gesti- \nciuations. He saw clearly that his final hour \nwas inevitably come. He Summoned all his \nresolution, and composed his mind, as far as \nthe circumstances could admit, to bid an eter- \nnal farewell to all he held most dear. To \nquit the world would scarcely have cost a^ \nsmgle pang ; but for the idea of home^ but for \nthe remembrance of domestic endearments, of \nthe affectionate partner of his soul, and of \ntheir beloved offspring. His thought was ul- \ntimately fixed on a happier state of existence, \nbeyond the tortures he was beginning to en- \ndure. The bitterness of death, even of thai \ndeath which is accompanied with the keenest \nagonies, was, in a manner, past — nature, with \na feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold \non sublunary things — when a French officer \nrushed through the crowd, opened a way by \nscattering the burning brands, and unbound \nthe victim. It was Molang himself — to whom, \na savage, unwilling to see another human sa- \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 69 \n\ncrifice immolated, had \\ un and communicated \nthe tidings. That commandant spurned and \nseverely reprimanded the barbarians, whose \nnocturnal powwas and hellish orgies he sud- \ndenly ended. Putnam did not want for feel- \ning or gratitude. The French commander, \nfearing to trust him alone with them, remain- \ned until he 'could deliver him in safety into \nthe hands of his master. \n\nThe savage approached his prisoner kindly, \nand seemed to treat him with particular affec- \ntion. He offered him some hard biscuit ; but \nfinding that he could not chew them, on ac- \ncount of the blow he had received from the \nFrenchman, this more humane savage soaked \nsome of the biscuit in water, and made him \nsuck the pulp-like part Determined, how- \never, not to loose his captive (the refreshment \nbeing finished) he took the mocasons from hig \nfeet, and tied them to one of his wrists : then \ndirecting him to lie down on his back upon \nthe bare ground, he stretched one arm to its \nfull length, and bound it fast to a young tree ; \nthe other arm was extended and bound in \nthe same manner — his legs were stretched \napart and fastened to two saplings. Then a \nnumber of tall, but slender poles were cut \ndown, which, with some long bushes, were \nlaid across his body from head to foot :' on \neach side lay as many Indians as could conve- \nnientljr find lodging, in order to prevent the \npossibility of his espape. In this aisagreeable \n\n\n\n64 LIFE OF GBHERAL PUTNAM. \n\nand painful posture he remained until morn-^ \ning. During this nighty the longest and most \ndreary conceivable, our hero used to relate \nthat he iblt a ray of cheexfulness come casu-i \nally across his mmd, and could not even re^ \nfrain from smiling when he reflected on thia \nludicrous group for a painter, of which he \nhimself was the principal figure. \n\nThe next day he was allowed his blanket \nand mocasons, and permitted to march with- \nout carrying any pack, or receiving any in-t \nsuit. To allay his extreme hunger, a little \nbear's meat was given, which he sucked \nthrough his teeth. At night the party arrived \nat Ticonderoga, and the prisoner was placed \nunder the care of a French guard. The sava- \nges, who had been prevented from glutting \ntheir diabolical thirst for blood, took other \nopportunity of manifesting their malevolence \nfor the disappointment, by horrid grimaces \nand angry gestures ; but they were suffered \nno more to offer violence or personal indignity \nto him. * \n\nAfter having been examined by the Mar-i \n\n2uis de Montcalm, Major Putnam was con-^ \nacted to Montreal by a French officer, wha \ntreated him with the greatest indulgence and \nhumanity. \n\nAt this place were several prisoners. Col- \nonel Peter Schuyler, remarkable for his phi- \nlanthropy, generosity, and friendship, was o£ \natke number. No sooner bad he heard of Ma- \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 65 \n\njor Putnam's arrival, than he went to the in- \nterpreter's quarters, and inquired whether he \nbaa a Provincial Major in his custody ? He \nfound Major Putnam in a comfortless condi- \ntion — without co^t, waistcoat, or hose— the \nremnant of his clothing miserably dirty and \nragged — ^bis beard long and squalid — his legs \ntorn by thorns and briars-^— his face gashed \nwith wounds and swollen with bruises. Colonel \nSchuyler, irritated beyond all sufferance at \nsuch a sight, could scarcely restrain hisi speech \nwithin limits, consistent with the prudence of \na prisoner and the meekness of a christian. \nMajor Putnam was inunediately treated ac- \ncording to his rank, cloathed in a decent \nmanner, and supplied with money by diat \nUberal and sympathetic patron of tEe die. \ntressed. \n\nThe capture of Frontenac by General \nBradstreet' afforded occasion for an exchans^a \nof prisoners. Colonel Schuyler was comp^- \nbended in the cartel/ A generous spirit can \nnever be satisfied with imposing tasks for \nits generosity to accomplish. Apprehensive \nif it should De known that Putnam was a \ndistinguished partizan, his liberation might be \nretarded, and knowing that there were offi- \ncers who, from the length of their captivity, \nhad a claim of priority to exchange, he had, \nby his happy address, induced the governor \nto offer, that whatever officer he might think \nproper to nominate should be included in the \n\n\n\n6& UFS or QfiKERAL VVTHAU^ \n\npresent cartel. With great politeness in man- \nlier, but seeming iodt&rence as to object, he \nexpressed his warmest acknowledgments to. \nthe governor, and said, '^ There is an old man \nhere, who is a Provindal Major, and wishes \nto be at home with his wife and children ; hei \ncan do no good here or any where else : I \nbelieve jour Excellency had better keep somer \nof the young men, who have no wife or chil- \ndren to care for> and let the old fellow go \nhon^ with me.'' This justifiable finesse had \nthe desired e£Eect « \n\nAt the house of Cobnel Schuyler, Major \nPutnam became acquainted with Mrs. How6» \na &ir captive,, whose history would not bo \nread without emotion, if it could be written im \nthe same af&ctinj^ manner in which I have \noften heard it toloT She was still young and \nhandsome herself, though she had two daugh- \nters of marriageable age. Distress, which bad \ntaken somewhat from the original redundancy \nof her bloom, and added a softening paleness \nto her cheeks, rendered her appearance the \nmore engaging. Her face, that seemed to have \nbeen formed for the assemblage of dimples \nand smiles, was clouded with care. The natu-» \nral sweetness was not, however,. soured by \ndespondency and petulance, bpt chastened by \nhumility and resignation. This mild daughter \nof sorrow looked as if she had known tl)e day \nof prosperity, when serenity and gladness of \nsoul were tue inmates of ner bosom* That \n\n\n\niAfiB, OF CERERAL TVTHfAVl. '67 \n\njdaj was past, and the cmce lively features \nnow assumed a tefnder melancholy, which wit*- \nnessed her irreparable loss. She needed sot \nthe customary weeds of oKraming, or Ihe fat \nlacious pageantry of woe, to prove her widow- \ned state. She was in that stage of affliotion \nwhen the excess is so far abated as to permit \nihe subject to be drawn into conversation, \nwithout opening the wound afresh. It is then \nrather a source of pleasure than pain to dwell \nmpon the circumstances in narration. Every \nthing conspired to make her story interesting. \nHer iSrst husband had been killed and scalped \nby the Indians some years before. By an un- \nexpected assault, in 1756, upon Fort Dummer, \nwhere she then happened to be present with \nMr. Howe, her second husband, the savages \ncarried the fort, murdered the greater part of \nthe garrison, mangled in ckath her husband, \nand led her away with seven children into \ncaptivity. She was for some months kept with \nthem ; and during their rambles she was fre- \nquently on the pomt of perishing with hunger, \nand as often suojected to hardships seenungly \nintolerable to one of so delicate a frame* \nSome time after the career of her miseries \nbegan, the Indians selected a couple of their \nyoung men to marry her daughters. The \niri^ht and disgust which the inteUigence of \nthis intention occasioned to these poor young \ncreatures, added infinitely to the sorrows am \nperplexities of their frantic mother. To spre- \n\n\n\n68 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nvent the hated connexion, all the activity of \nfemale resource was called into exertion. She \nfound an opportunity of conveying to the \n\ngovernor a petition^ that her daughters might \ne received into a convent for the sake of \nsecuring the salvation of their souls. Happily \nthe pious fraud succeeded. \n\nAoout the same time the savages separated, \nand carried off her other five children into \ndifferent tribes. She was ransomed bj an \nelderly French officer for four hundred livres. \nOf no avail were the cries of this tender \nmother — ^a mother desolated by the loss of \nher children, who were thus torn from her \nfond embraces, and removed many hundred \nmiles from each other, into the utmost recesses \nof Canada. With them (could they have been \nkept together) she would most willingly have \nwandered to the extremities of the world, and \naccepted as a desirable portion the cruel lot \nof slavery for life. But she was precluded \nfrom the sweet hope of ever beholaing them \nagain. The insuiterable pang of parting, and \nthe idea of eternal separation, planted the ar- \nrows of despair deep m her soul. Though all \nthe world was no better than a desert, and \nall Its inhabitants were then indifferent to her^ \nyet the loveliness of her appearance in sorrow \nhad awakened affections, which, in the aggra- \nvation of her troubles, were to become a new \nsource of afflictions. \n\nThe officer who bought her of the Indians \nhad a son who also held a commission, and \n\n\n\nLIFE OF CENERAL PUTlfAM. 69 \n\nresided with bis father. During her continu- \nance in the same house, at St. John's, the \ndouble attachment of the father and the son \nrendered her situation extremely distressing. It \nis true, the calmness of age delighted to gaze \nrespectfully on her beauty ; but the impetu- \nosity of youth was fired to madness by the \nsight of her charms. One day, the son, whose \nattentions had been long lavished upon her in \nvain, finding her alone m a chamber, forcibly \nseized her nand, and solemnly declared that \nhe would now satiate the passion which she \nhad so long refused to indulge. She recurred \nto entreaties, struggles, and tears, those preva* \nlent female weapons which the distraction of \ndanger not less than the promptness of genius \nis wont to supply ; while he, in the deliriuai \nof vexation and clesire, snatched a dagger, and \nswore he would put an end to her life if she \npersisted to struggle. Mrs. Howe, assuming \nthe dignity of conscious virtue, told him it was \nwhat she most ardently wished, and begged \nhim to plunge the poignard through her heart, \nsince the mutual importunities and Jealousies \nof such rivals had rendered her life, though \ninnocent, more irksome and « insupportable \nthan death itself. Struck with a momentary \ncompunction, he seemed to relent, and relax \nhis iiold ; and she, availing herself of his \nirresolution, or absence of mind, escaped down \nthe stairs. In her disordered state she told the \nwhole transaction to his father^ who directed \n\n\n\n70 Lira or general putnabl \n\nher, in future, to sleep in a small bed at the \nfoot of that in which his wife lodged. The . \naffair soon reached the governor's ears, and \nthe young officer was, shortly afterwards, sent \non a tour of duty to Detroit \n\nThis gave her a short respite; but she \ndreaded his return, and the humiliating insults \nfor which she might be reserved. Her chil- \ndren, too, were ever present to her melan- \ncholy mind. A stranger, a widow, a captive, \nshe knew not where to apply for relief. She \nhad heard of the name of Schuyler— she was \njet to learn, that it was only another appella- \ntion for the friend of suffering humanity. As \nthat excellent man was on his way from Que- \nbec to the Jerseys, under a parole, for a limit- \ned time, she came*, with feeble and trembling \nsteps, to him. The same maternal passion \nwhich sometimes overcomes the timidity of \n.nature in the birds, when plundered of their \ncallow nestlings, emboldened her, notwith- \nstanding her native diffidence, to disclose \nthose griefs which were ready to devour her \nin silence. While her delicate aspect was \nheightened to a glowing l)lush, for fear of of- \nfending by an inexcusable importunity, or of \ntransgressmg the rules of propriety, by repre- \nsenting herself as being an object of admira- \ntion, she told, with artless simplicity, all the \nstory of her woes. Colonel Schuyler, from \nthat moment, became her protector, and en- \ndeavoured to procure her bbertj. The pei^ \n\n\n\nUFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 71 \n\nton who purchased her from the savages, un-» \nwilling to part with so fair a purchase, de- \nmanded a thousand livres as her ransom. But \nColonel Schuyler, on his return to Quebec^ \nobtained from the governor an order, In con- \nsequence of which Mrs. Howe was given up \nto him for four hundred livres ; nor did his \nactive goodness rest until every one of her \nfive sons was restored to her. \n\nBusiness having /nade it necessary that Col- \nonel Schuyler should precede the prisoners \nwho were exchanged, he recdibmended the \nfair captive to the protection of his friend Put- \nnam. She had just recovered from the mea- \nzles when the party was preparing to set off \nfor New-England. By this time the young \nFrench officer h^^\\ returned, with his passion \nrather increased than abated by absence. He \npursued her wheresoever she went, and, al- \nthough he could make no advances in her af- \nfection, lie seemed resolved, by perseverance, \nto carry his point. Mrs. Howe, terrified by \nhis treatment, was obliged to keep constantly \nnear Major Putnam, who informed the young \nofficer that he should protect that lady at the \nrisk of his life.* \n\nIn the long march from captivity, through \nan inhospitable wilderness, encumbered with \nfive small children, she suffered incredible \n\n• Two or three ineidenU respecting Mrt. Howe, whieh wert \nreeeived hf the aathor from General Putoam, and inserted in tht \nformer editions, are omitted in this, as they appeareii^ oa lartlivr \nlorormationy to be mistakei. \n\n\n\n72 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAfiT. \n\nhardships. Though endowed with masculine \nfortitude, she was truly feminine in strength, \nand must have fainted by the way, had it not \nbeen for the assistance of Major Putnam. \nThere were a thousand good offices which \nthe helplessness of her condition demanded, \nand which the gentleness of his nature de- \nlighted to perform. He assisted in leading \nher little ones, and in carrying them over the \nswampy grounds and rtins of water, with \nwhich their course was frequently intersected. \nHe mingled his own mess with that of the \nwidow and the fatherless, and assisted them \nin supplying and preparing their provisions. \nUpon arriving withm tne settlements, they ex- \nperienced a reciprocal regret at separation, \nand were only consoled hy the expectation of \nsoon mingling in the embraces of their former \nacquaintances and dearest connexions. \n\nAfter the conquest of Canada, in 1760, she \nmade a journey to Quebec, in order to bring \nback her two daughters, whom she had leii \nin a convent. She found one of them married \nto a French officer. The other having con- \ntracted a great fondness ftw the religious sis- \nterhood, with reluctance consented to leave \nthem and return. \n\nWe now arrive- at the period when the \nprowess of Britain, victorious alike by sea and \nDv land, in the new and in the old world, had \nelevated that name to the zenith of national \nglory. The conquest of Quebec opened tlxa \n\n\n\nUFE or GSNElua PVTHJktU 73 \n\nwaj for the total reductioQ of Canada. On \nthe side of the Lakes, Amherst havinff cap-i \ntured the posts c^ Ticonderoga and Crowns \nPoint, applied himself to strengthen the latten \nPutnam, who had been raised to the rank of \nLieutenant«Colonel, and present at these ope* \nrations, was employed the remainder of thi^ \nand some part of the succeeding season, in \nsuperintencling the parties which were detach-* \ned to procure timber^nd other material for \nthe fortification. \n\nIn 1760, General Amherst, a sagacious, hu« \nmane, and experienced commander, planned \nthe termination of the war , in Canada, bj a^ \nbloodless conquest. For this purpose, three \narmies were destined to co-operate, by differ-^ \nent routes, against Montreal, the only remain- \ning place of strength the enemy held in that \ncountry. The corps formerly commanded by \nGeneral Wolfe, now by General Murray, wag \nordered to ascend the river St. Lawrence ; anp \nother, under Colonel Haviland, to penetrate \nby the Isle Aux Noix ; and the third, consist- \ning of about ten thousand men, commanded \nby the General himself, after passing up the \nMohawk-River, and taking its course by the \nLake Ontario, was to form a junction by fall- \ning down the St. Lawrence, in this progress^ \nmore than one occasion presented itself to \nmanifest the intrepidity and soldiership gf \nLieutenant-Colonel Putnam. Two armed ve0» \nsel9 obstructed the passage and prerented the \n\n\n\n74 LIFE OF GENERAL FUTNAIC. \n\nattack on Oswegatchie. Putnam, with one \nthousand men, in fifty batteaux, undertook to \nboard them. This dauntless officer, ever \nsparing of the blood of others, as prodigal \nof his own, to accomptish it with the less loss, \nput himself (with a chosen crew, a beetle \nand wedges) in the van, with a design to \nwedge the rudders, so that the vessels should \nnot be able to turn their broadsides, or per- \nform any other manoeuvre. All the men in \nhis little fleet were ordered to strip to their \nwaistcoats, and advance at the same time. \nHe promised, if he lived, to join and show \nthem the way up the sides. Animated by \nso daring an example, they moved swiftly, \nin profound stillness, as to certain victory or \ndeath. The people on board the ships, be* \nholding the good countenance with which \nthey approached, ran one of the vessels on \nshore, and struck the ccJours of the other* \nHad it not been for the dastardly conduct \nof the ship's company in the latter, who \ncompelled the Captam to haul down his en- \nsign, he would, have given the assailants a \nbloody reception: for the vessels were well \nprovided with spars, nettings, and every cus- \ntomary instrument of annoyance as well as \ndefence. \n\nIt now remained to attack the fortress,, \nwhich stood on an island, and seemed to \nhave been rendered inaccessible by an high \nabattis of black-ash^ that every where pro^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 75 \n\njected over the water. Lieutenant-Colonel \nFutnam proposed a mode of attack, and offer* \ned his services to carrj it into effect. The \nGeneral approved the proposal. Our parti- \nzan, accordingly, causea a sufficient number \nof boats to be htted for the enterprize. The \nsides of each boat were surrounded with fas- \ncines, musket proof, which covered th^ men \ncompletely. A wide plank, twenty feet in \nlength, was then fitted to every boat in such \nmanner, by having an angular piece sawed \nfrom one extremity, that, when fastened by \nropes on both sides of the bow, it might be \nraised or lowered at pleasure. The design \nwas, that the plank should be held erect whue \nthe oarsmen forced the bow with the utmost ex- \nertion against the abattis; and that afterwards \nbeing dropped on the pointed brush, it should \nserve as a kind of briclge to assist the men in \npassing over them. Lieutenajit-Colonel Put- \nnam having made his dispositions to attempt \nthe escalaoe in many places at the same mo- \nment, advanced with his boats in admirable \nt>rder. The garrison perceiving these extraor- \ndinary and unexpected machmes, waited not \nthe assault, but capitulated. Lieutenant-Col- \nonel Putnam was particularly honoured by \nGeneral Amherst, for his ingenuity in this jn- \nTention, and promptitude m its execution. \nThe three armies arrived at Montreal within \ntwo days of each other ; and the conquest of \nCanada became complete without the loss of a \nsingle drop of blood. \n\n\n\n76 Lire OF GENERAL PUTNAll. \n\nAt no great distance from Montreal stands \nthe savage village called Cochnawaga. Here \nour partizan found the Indian chief who had \nformerly made him prisoner. That Indian \nwas highly delighted to see his old acquaints \nance, whom he entertained in his own welU \nbuilt stone house with great friendship and \nhospitality ; while his guest did not discover \nless satisfaction in an opportunity of shaking \nthe brave savage by the hand, and proffering \nhim protection in this reverse of his military \nfortunes. \n\nWhen the belligerent powers were codsid* \nerably exhausted, a rupture took place be-* \ntween Great Britain and Spain, in the month \nof January,] 762, and an expedition was form^ \ned that canmaigp, under Lord Albermarle, \nagainst the Havannah. A body ofProvinci^* \nals, composed of five hundred men from the \nJerseys, eight hundred from New- York, and \none thousand from Connecticut, joined his \nLordship. General Lyman, who raised the reg- \niment or one thousand men in Connecticut, bal- \ning the siBnior officer, commanded the whole : \nof course, the immediate command of his regi^ \nment devolved upon Lieutenant-Colonel Put<- \nnam. The fleet that carried these troops sail** \ned from New- York, and arrived safely on the \ncoast of Cuba. There a terrible storm arose, \nand the transport in whk;h Lieutenant-Colonel \nPutnam had embarked with five hundred men, \nwas wrecked on a rift of craggy rocks. The \nweather was so tempestuousy and the aurl^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 77 \n\nwhich ran mountain-high, dashed with such \nviolence against the ship, that the most experi- \nenced seaman expected it would soon part \nasunder. The rest of the fleet, so far tirom \nbeing able to afford assistance, with difliculty \nrode out the gale. In this deplorable situation, \nas the only expedient by which they could be \nsaved, strict order was maintained, and all \nthose people who best understood the use of \ntools, mstantly employed in constructing rafts \nfrom spars, plank, and whatever other materi- \nals could be procured. There happened to be \non board a large quantity of strong cords, (^the \nsame that are used in the whale fishery^ which, \nbeing fastened to the rafts, after the first had \nwith inconceivable hazc^'d reached the shore, \nwere of infinite service ita preventing the oth- \ners from driving out to sea, as also in dragging \nthem athwart the billows to the beach; by \nwhich means every man was finally saved. \nWith the same presence of mind to take ad- \nvantage of circumstances, and the same pre- \ncaution to prevent confusion on similar occa- \nsions, how many valuable lives, prematurely \nlost, might have been preserved as blessings to \ntheir families, their friends, and their country ! \nAs soon as all were landed, Lieutenant-Col- \nonel Putnam fortified his camp, that he might \nnot be exposed to insult from the inhabitants \nof the neighbouring districts, or from those of \nCarthatjena, who were but twenty-four miles \ndistant. Here the party remained unmolested \nseveral days, until the storm bad 80 much \n\n\n\n78 tilFB OF GENERAL PlTTlfAM* \n\nabated as to permit the codvoj to take then \noft. Thjey soon joined the troops before the \nHavannah, who, tx^ving been several weeks in \nthat unhealthy climate, already began to grow \nextremely sickly.* The opportune arrival of \nthe Provmcial reinforcement, in perfect health, \n. contributed not a little to forward the works^ \nand hasten the reduction of that important \n\nElace« But the Provincials suffered so misera-* \nIj by sickness afterwards, that very few ever \nreturned to their native land again. \n\nAlthough a general peace among the Euro- \npean powers was ratified in 1763, yet the \nsavages on our western frontiers still continue \ned their hostilities. After they had taken \nfeveral posts, General Bradstreet was sent, in \n1764, with an army, against them. Colonei \nPutnam, then, for tne nrst time, appointed to \nthe command of a regiment, was on the expedi* \ntion, as was the Indian chief whom I have sev* \neral times had occasion to mention as his cap- \nturer, at the head of one hundred Cochnawaga \nwarriors. Before General Bradstreet reach- \ned Detroit, which the savages invested. Cap- \ntain D'EII, the faithful friend and intrepid fel- \nlow-soldier of Colonel Putnam, had been slain \n\n^ * Colonel Haviland, an aeeomplished officer^ sevenil times men- \ntioned in these memoirs, who brought to \\merica a regiment of \none thousand Irish Teterans, bad but seventy raocn pemaindng alive \niRrhen he left the Havannah. Colonel Haviland, during this siege, \nhaving once with his regiment engaged and routeJ nve hundred \nSpaniards, met Colonel Putnam on his return, and said—- *< Put- \nnam, give me a pinch of snuff.** \" I never oa'*ry anvt*' returned \nPutnam. <* I have always just saeh luck ** cried Haviland ; \" th^ \nrueall^ Spaniardf l^re shot away my^ {lockeli snuff box «ud all*** \n\n\n\nLIFfe OF GBRERAL PUTNAll. 79 \n\nin a desperate sally. He hafing been detach* \ned with five hundred men, in 1763, by Gene- \nral Amherst, to raise the siege, found means of \nthrowing the succour into the fort. But the \n\ngarrison, commanded by Major Gladwine, a \nrave and sensible officer, had been so much \nweakened, by the lurb'ng and insidious mode \nof war practised by the savages, that not a \nman coilld be spared to co-operate in an at- \ntack upon them. The commandant would \neven have dissuaded Captain D'EIi from the \nattempt, on account of the great disparity in \nnumbers; but the latter, relying on the disci- \npline and courage (^ his men, replied, \"^ God \n** forbid that I should ever disobey the orders of \n^^ my General,'^ and immediately disposed them \nfi>r action. It was obstinate and bloody ; but \nthe vastly superior number of the savages \nenabled them to enclose Captain D^EIPs party \non every side, and compelled him, finally, to \nfight his way, in retreat from one stone house \nto another. Having halted to breathe a mo- \nment, he saw one of his bravest sergeants ly- \ning at a small distance, wounded through the \nthigh, and wallowing in his blood. Where- \nupon he desired some of the men to run and \nbring the sei^eant to the house, but they de- \nelinied it. Then declaring, \"that he never \n'* would leave so brave a soldier in the field to \n*' be tortured by the savages,\" he ran and en- \ndeavoured to help him up— at die instant a \nvolley of shot dropped them both dead to- \ngether. The party contiilued retreating from \n\n\n\n80 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNABl* \n\n« \n\nhouse to house until they regained the fort ; \nwhere it was found the conflict ^ had been 60 \nsharp, and lasted so long, that onlj fifty men \nremained alive of the five hundred who had \nsallied. \n\nUpon the arrival of General Bradstreet, the \nsavages saw that all further etTorts, in armst \nwoula be vain, and accordingly, after many- \nfallacious proposals for a peace, and frequent \ntergiversations in the negociation, they cou'*- \neluded a treaty, which ended the war in A* \nmerica. \n\nColonel Putnam, at the expiration of ten \nyears from his first receiving a commission^ \naiter having seen as much service, endured as \nmany hardships, encountered as many dangers^ \nand acquired as many laurels as any onicer of his^ \nrank, with great satisfaction laid aside his uni« \nform, and returned to his plough. The various \nand uncommon scenes of war in which he had \nacted a respectable part, his intercourse with \nthe world, and intimacy with some of the first \ncharacters in the army, joined with occasional \nreading, had not only brought into view what<- \never talents he possessed from nature, but, at \nthe same time, had extended his knowledge, \nand polished his manners, to a considerable \ndej^ee. Not having become inflated with \npnde, or forgetful of his old connexions, he \nhad the good fortune to possess entirely the \ngood will of his fellow citizens. No character \nstood fairer ^in the public eye for integrity. \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. * Si \n\nbravery, and patrtotism. He was employed \nin several offices in his own town, and not un- \nfrequently elected to represent it in the Gene- \nral Assembly. The year after his return to \nprivate life, the minds of men were strangely \nagitated, by an attempt of the British Parlia- \nment to introduce the memorable Stamp Act in \nAmerica. This germe of policy, whose growth \nwas repressed xi\"^ the moderate temperature \nIn which it was kept by some administrations, \ndid not fully disclose its fruit until nearly \neleven years afterwards. All the world knows \nhow it then ripened into a civil war. \n\nOn the twenty-second day of March, 1765, \nthe Stamp Act received the royal assent. It \nwas to take place in America on the first day \nof November following. This innovation spread \na sudden and universal alarm. The political \npulse in the Provinces, from Maine to Georgia^ \nthrobbed in sympathy. The Assemblies,^ in \nmost of these colonies, that they might oppose \nit legally and in concert, appointed Delegates \nto confer together on the subject. This first \nCongress met, early in October, at New-York. \nThey agreed upon a Declaration of Rights \nand Grievances of the Colonists; together \nwith separate Addresses to the King, Lords, \nand Commons of Great-Britain. In the .mean \ntime, the people had determined, in order to \nprevent the stamped paper from being dijB- \ntributed, that the Stamp-Masters should not \nenter on the execution of their office. Tb^t \n\n8 \n\n\n\n82 LtFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nappointment^ in Connecticut, had been confer- \nrea upon Mr* Ingersol, a very dignified, sensi- \nble^ and lejfhied native of the colony, who,* \nV^ upon being solicited to resign, did not, in the \n>. first instance, give a satisfactory answer. In \n' Consequence of which, a great number of the \n0abstantial yeomanry, on horseback, ftirnished \nwith provisions for themselves, and provender \nfor their horses, assembled in the eastern \ncounties^ and began their march for New- \nHaven, to receive, the resignation of Mr. In- \nersol. A junction with another body was to \nave been formed in Branford. But having \nlearned at Hartford, that Mr. Ingersol would \nbe in town the next day to claim prote(ition \nfrom the Assembly, th^y took quarters there, \nand kept out patroles during the whole nighty \nto prevent his arrival without their knowledge^ \nThe succeeding morning they resumed their \nmarch, and met Mr. Ingersol in Wethersfield. \nThey told him their business, and he, after \nsome little hesitation, mounted on a round \ntable, read his resignation.^ That finished, \n\n* The carious may be pleased to know that the resignation was \nexpressed iu these explicit terms : \n\nWether^eld, September 9th, 1765. \n\n*' I do hereby pvomise, that I never will receive any stamped \npapers which may arrive from Europe, in consequence of an act \nlately passed in. the Parliament of Great-Britain ; nor officiate a» \nStamp-Master or Distributor of Stamps, within the colony of Con* \nkieotieat, either directly or indirebtly. And 1 do hereby notify to \nall the inhabitants of his Majesty's colony of Connecticut (notwith- \n•tftnding the said office or trust has been committed to me) not to \napply to me, ever after, for any stamped paper ; hereby declaring' \nthat I do resign the eaid office^ and execute these Presents of \ntey own FHBB wiLV AND ▲GCO»i>^ withoui any equivocation o \nmental reservation. \n\n** Jh witness whereof I hare berecmto set myliand, \n\n*• J. INGERSOL.** \n\n\n\n.% >^ \n\n\n\n■' ■ \" > «i *.• . . \n\nthe multitude deslped him to cry out \" liliertT \nand property\" three times ; which he did, \nand was answered by three loud huzzas. He \nthen dined with some of the principal men, at \na tavern, by whom he Vas treated with great \npoliteness, and afterwards was escorted by \nabout five liundred horse to Hartford, where \nhe a^ain read his resignation, amidst t!he un- \nbounded acclamations of the people. I have \nchosen to style this collection the yeomanry^ \nthe multitude^ or the people^ because I could \nnot make use of the English word mobui which \ngenerally signifies a disorderly concurrence oi \nthe rabble, without conveying an errowpous \nidea. It is scarcely necessary to add, thai ^^^ \npeople, their objects being effected, witiliout \noffering disturbance, dispersed to their homes.* \nColonel Putnam, who instigated the pedple \nto these measures, was prevented from at- \ntending by accident. But he was deputed \nsoon after, with two other gentlemen, to tfeait \non Governor Fitch on the same subject. The \nquestions of the Governor, and answers of Put- \nnam, will serve to indicate the spirit of the \ntimes. After some conversation, the Governor \nasked, \" What he should do if the stamped \npaper should be sent to him by the King's \n\n• To ^ive a trait of the urbanity that prevailed, it may not be \namiss to mention a jest that passed in the cavalcade to Hartford, \nand uas received with the most perfect good humour. Mr. In- \ngersol, who by chance rode a *hite horie, being asked ** What he \nthought, to find himself attended by such a retiuue?\" — replied^ \n*<that he had now a clearer idea than ever he had before conceiv- \ned of that passage in the Hevelations, which describes Death 9fi a \npale horse, and hell folloiving- him.'\\ \n\n\n\n84 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM^ \n\nauthority ?\" Putnam replied, \" lock it up until \nwe shall visit you again.\" \" And what will \nyou do then ?\" ^' We shall expect you to give \nus the key of the room in which it is deposit- \ned ; and, if you think fit, in order to screen \n[fourself from blame, you may forewarn us, \nupon our peril, not to enter the room.\" '*And \nwhat will you do afterwards. ^\"^ ^'Send it safely \nback again.\" \"But if I should refuse admission?\" \n\" In such a case, your house will be levelled \nwith the dust in five minutes.\" It was suppos- \ned, that a report of this conversation was one \nreason why the stamped paper was never sent \nfrom New-York to Connecticut. \n\nSuch unanimity in the Provincial Assemblies, \nand decision in the yeomanry, carried beyond \nthe Atlantic a conviction of the inexpediency \nof attempting to enforce the new Revenue \nSystem. The Stamp Act being repealed, and \nthe measures in a manner quieted. Colonel \nPutnam continued to labour with his own \nhands, at farming, without interruption, except, \nfor a little time, oy the loss of the first joint of \nhis right thumb from one accident, and the com- \npound fracture of his right thigh from another: \nthat thigh, being rendered nearly an inch \nshorter than the left, occasioned him ever to \nlimp in his \\^d\\k. \n\nThe Provincial officers and soldiers from \nConnecticut, who survived the conquest of the \nHavannah, appointed General Lyman to re- \nceive the remainder of their prize money,* in \nEngland. A company, composed partly of \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 85 \n\nmilitary, and partly of other gentlemen, whose \nobject w^ to obtain from the crown a grant \nof land on the Mississippi, also committed to \nhim the negociation ot their aflfairs. When \nseveral years had elapsed in applications, a \n\nfrant of land was obtained. In 1770, General \nlyman, with Colonel Putnam, and two or \nthree others, went to explore the situa^on. \nAfter a tedious voyage, and a laborious pas- \nsage up the Mississippi, they accomplisned \ntheir business. \n\nGeneral Lyman came back to Connecticut \nwith the explorers, but soon returned to the \nNatchez : tnere formed an establishment and \nlaid^ his bones. Colonel Putnam placed some \nlabourers with provis'ons and farming utensil9 \nupon his location ; but the increasing troubles \nshortly after ruined the prospect oi deriving \nany advantage from that quarter. \n\nIn speaking of the troubles that ensued, I \nnot onl^ omit to say any thing on the obnox- \nious claim assertea in the British declaratory \nact, the continuation of the duty on tea, the \nattempt to obtrude that article upon the A- \nmericand, the abortion of this project, the Bos- \nton Port Bill, the alteration of the charter of \nMassachusetts, and other topics of universal \nnotoriety ; but even wave all discussion of .ir- \nritations on the one part, and supplications on \nthe other, which preceded the war between \nGre€it-Britain and har colonies on this conti'^ \npent. It will ever be acknowledged by thog^ \n\n#8 \n\n\n\n86 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nwho were best acquainted with facts, and it \nshould be made known to posterity, that the \nking of England had not, in his extensive do- \nminions, subjects more loyal, more dutiful, or \nmore zealous for his glory than the Americans; \nand that nothing short of a melancholy persua- \nsion, that the \" measures which for many years \nhad been systematically pursued by his minis- \nters, were calculated to subvert their constitu- \ntions,\" could have dissolved their powerful \nattachment tQ that kingdom which they fondly \ncalled -their parent country. Here, without \ndigression to develope the cause, or describe \nthe progress, it may suffice to observe, the \ndispute now verged precipitately to an awful \ncrisis. Most considerate men foresaw it would \nterminate in blood. But rather than suffer \nthe chains, which they believed in prepara- \ntion, to be rivetted, they nobly determined to \nsacrifice their lives. In vain did they depre- \ncate the infatuation of those transatlantic \ncounsels which drove them to deeds of despe- \nration. Convinced of the rectitude of their \ncause, and doubtful of the issue, they felt the \nmost painful solicitude for the fate of their \ncountry, on contemplating the superior \nstrength of the nation with which it was to \ncontend. America, thinly inhabited, under \nthirteen distinct colonial governments, could \nhave little hope of success, but from the pro- \ntection of providence, and the unconquerable \nspirit of freedom which pervaded the mass of \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 87 \n\nthe people. It is true, since the peace she \nhad surprisingly increased in wealth and popi- \nulation; but the resources of Britain almost \nexceeded credibility or conception. It is not \nwonderful, then, that some good citizens, of \nweaker nerves, recoiled at the prospect ; while \nothers, who had been officers m the late war, \nor who had witnessed, by travelling, the force \nof Britain, stood aloof. All eyes were now \nturned to find the men who, possessed of mit- \nitary experience, would dare, in the approach- \ning hour of severest trial, to lead their undis- \nciplined fellow-citizens to battle. For none \nwere so stupid as not to comprehend, that \nwant of success would involve the leaders in \nthe punishment of rebellion. Putnam was \namong the first and n^ost conspicuous who \nstepped forth. Although the Americans had \nbeen, by many who wisned their subjugation, \nindiscreetly as indiscriminately stigmatized with \nthe imputation of cowardice — he lelt — he knew \nfor himself, he was no coward ; and from \nwhat he had seen and known, he believed that \nhis countrymen, driven to the extremity of de* \nfending their rights by arms, would find no \ndifficulty in wiping away the ungenerous as- \npersion. As he happened to be often at Bos- \nton, he held many conversations, on these sub- \njects, with General Gage, the British Com- \nmander in Chief, Lord Percy, Colonel Sbjeriff, \nColonel Small, and many omcers with whom \nhe had formerly served, who were now at the \n\n\n\n88 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nHead-Quarters. Being often questioned, \"in \ncase the dispute should proceed to hostilities, \nwhat part he would really take ?\" he always \nanswered, \"with his country; and that, let what- \never might happen, he was prepared to abide \nthe consequence.\" Being interrogated, \"wheth- \ner Ae, who had been a witness to the prowcsa \nand victories of the British fleets and armies, \ndid not think them equal to the conquest of \na pountry which was not the pwner of a single \nship, regiment, or magazine ?\" he rejoined, \nthat \" he could only say, justice would be on \nour side, aqd the event with providence : but \nthat he had calculated, if it required six years \nfor the combined forces of England ana her \ncolonies to conquer such a feeble country as \nCanada, it would, at least, take a very long \ntime for England alone to overcome her own \nwidely extended colonies, which were much \nstronger than Canada : That when men fought \nfor every thing dear, in what they believed to \nbe the most sacred of all causes, and in their \nown native land, they would have gr^t ad- \nvantages over their enemies who vvere not id \nthe same siti^ation; and that, having taken \ninto view all circumstances,^ for his own part, \nhe fully believed thjat America would not be \nso easily conquered by England as those gen- \ntlemen seemed to expect. Being once, in \nparticular, asked, \" whether be did not seri- \nously believe that a well appointed British \n«urmy of &ve ibouaand y^raas could m^rch \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 89 \n\nthrough the whole continent of America ?'' he \nreplied briskly, *• no doubt, if tpey behaved \ncivilly, and paid well for every thing they \nwanted ;• — but\" — after a tnoment^s pause add^ \ned — '' if they should attempt it in a hostile \nmanner (though the American men were out \nof the question) the women, with their ladles \nand broomsticks, would knock them all on the \nhead before they had got half way through.\" \nThis was the tenor, our hero hath often told \nme, of these amicable interviews ; and thus, as \nit commonly happens in disputes about future \n_ events which depend on opinion, they parted \nwithout conviction, no more to meet in a friendly \nmanner, until after the appeal should have \nbeen made to Heaven, and tne issue confirmed \nby the sword. In the mean time, to provide \nagainst the worst contingency, the militia in \nthe several colonies was sedulously trained ; \nand those select companies, the flower of our \nyouth, which were denominated minutemen, \nagreeably to the indication of their name, held \nthemselves in readiness to march at a mo- \nment's warning. \n\nAt length the fatal day arrived; when hos- \ntilities commenced. General Gage, in the \nevening of the 18th of April, 1775, detached \nfrom Boston, the grenadiers and light infantry \nof the army, commanded by Lieutenant- \nColonel Smith, to destroy some military and \nother stores deposited by the province at Con- \ncord. About sunrise the next morning, the \n\n\n\n90 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\ndetachnent) on marchio^ into Lexington, fired \nupon a companj of militia who had just re- \nassembled ; for having been alarmed late at \nnight, with reports that the regulars we^ ad- \nvancing to demolish the stores, they collected \non their parade, and were dismissed with orr \nders to reassemble at beat of drum. It is es- \ntablished* by the affidavits of more than thirty \npersons who were present, that the first fire, \nwhich killed eight of the militia, then begin- \nning to disperse, was given by ^he British, \nwithout provocation. The spark of war, thus \nkindled, ran with unexampled rapidity^ and \nraged with unwonted violence. To repel th^ \naggression, the people of the bordering towns \nspontaneously rushea to arms, and poured their \nscattering shot from every convenieiit station \nupon the regulars, who, after marching to \nCfonoord, and destroying the magazine, would \nhave found their retreat intercepted, had they \nnot been reinforced by Lord Percy, with the \nbattalion companies of three regiments, and a \nbody of marines. Notwithstanding the junc- \ntion, they were hard pushed, and pursued \nuntil they could find protection from their \nships. Of the British, two hundred and eighty- \nthree were killed, wounded, and taken. Tho \nAmericans had thirty-nine killed, nineteen \nwounded, and two made prisoners. \n\nNothing could exceed the celerity with \nwhich the intelligence flew every where, that \nblood had been shed by the British troops. \nThe country, in motion, exhibited but one \n\n\n\nLIFE OF OfiNERAL FUTNABf* 91 \n\nscene of hurry, preparation and revenge. Put- \nnam, who was plowing when he heard the \nnews, Wt his plough in the middle of the field, \nunyoked his team, and without waiting to \nchadge his clothes, set off for the theatre of \naction. But finding the British retreated to \nBoston, and invested by a sufficient force to \nwatch their movements, he came back to \nConnecticut,* levied a regiment, under au- \nthority of the legislature, and speedily return- \ned to Cambridge.t He was now promoted \nto be a Major-General on the Provincial staff, \n\n• General Putnam was absent only one week from the army at \nCambridge ; and then, for the purpose of oonsuitation with the \nLegislature of Connecticut, at that time in session; and at the par- \nticular request of that body. Having assisted by his advice in the \norganization of a military force for the campaign of 1775, he re« \nturned immediately to the Army before Boston, leaving ondert for \nthe troops to follow with as little delay as posuble, after the men \ncould be enlisted r Editor. J \n\nt An article, void of foundation, mentioning an interview be*< \ntween General Gage and General Putnam, appeared in the English \nGazettes in these words: 'General Gage, viewing the Ameriaaa \narmy with his telescope, saw General Putnam in it, which surpris- \ned him ; and he contrived to get a message delivered to him, that \nhe wanted to apeak to him* Putnam, without any hesitation, wait- \ned upon him. General Ga^ showed him his fortificatious, and \nadvised him to lay down his arms. General Putnam replied, he \ncould force his fortifications in half an ho«r, and advised General \nGage to go on board the ships with his troops.' \n\nThe apprehension of an attack is adduced with mueh more veri- \nsimilitude in M'FJngal, as the reason why General Gage woulii/not \nsuffer the inhabitants to go from the town of Bo8tou« after he had \npremised to grant permission : \n\n'so Gage of late agreed, you know. \nTo let the Boaton people go : \nYet when he saw, gainst troops that brav'd hi^^ \nThey were the only guards that sav^d hiiK^ \nKept dff that SaUn of a Pmnwn, \nFrom breaking in to maul and mutt'n him, \n* He*d too much wit such league* t* observe^ \nAnd^ui them ih again to starve.' \n\nMl'FitTOAL. Cfttrtxil. \n\n\n\n92 LIFE OF GENERAL PUT)7AM. \n\nby his colony; and, in a little tinae, confirmed \nbj Congress, in the same rank on the Conti- \nnental establishment. General Ward, of Mas- \nsachusetts, by common consent, comipanded \nthe whole ; and the celebrated Dr. Warren \nwas made a Major-General. \n\nNot long after this periocj? the British Com- \nmander in Chief found the means to. convey a \nproposal, privately, to General Putnam, that \nif he would relinquish the rebel party, he \nmight rely upon bem^ made a Major-Qeneral \non the British establishment, and receiving a \ngreat pecuniary compensation for his services. \nGeneral Putnam spurned at the offer; which, \nhowever, he thought prudent at that tinae to \nconceal from public notice. \n\nIt could scarcely have been expected, but \nby those credulous patriots who were prone \nto believe whatever they ardently desired, that \nofficers assembled from colonies distinct in \ntheir manners and prejudices, selected from \nlaborious occupations, to command a hetero- \n\nfeneous crowd of their equals, compelled to \ne soldiers only by the spur of occasion, should \nlong be able to preserve harmony among \nthemselves, and subordination among their \nfollowers. As the fact would be a phenome- \nnon, the idea was treated with mirth and \nmockery by the friends to the British govern- \nment. Yet this unshaken embryo of a military \ncorps, composed of militia, minutcmen, volun* \ntears, and levies, with a burlesque appearance \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 93 \n\nof multiformity in arras, accoutrements, cloath- \ning and conduct, at last grew into a regular \narmy — an arpy which, having vindicated the \nrights of human nature, and established the \nindependence of a new empire, merited and \nobtained the glorious distinction of the patriot \narmy — the patriot army, whose praises for \ntheir fortitude in adversity, bravery in battle^ \nmoderation in conquest, perseverance in sup- \nporting the cruel extremities of hunger and \nnakedness without a murmur or sigh, as well \nas for their magnanimity in retiring to civil \nlife, at the moment of victory, with arms in \ntheir hands, and without any just compensa- \ntion for their services, will only cease to be \ncelebrated when time shall exist no more. \n\nEnthusiasm for the cause of liberty, substi- \ntuted in the place of discipline, not only kept \nthese troops together, but enabled them at \nonce to perform the duties of a disciplined \narmy. Though the commanding officers from \nthe four colonies of New-England were in a \nmanner independent, they acted harmoniously \nin concert. The first attention had been pru- \ndently directed towards forming some little \nredoubts and intrenchments ; for it was well \nknown that lin^s, however slight or untena- \nble, werq calculated to ins['ire raw soldiers \nwith a confidence in themselves. Th^ next \ncare was • to bring the live stock from the isl- \nands in Boston bay, in order to prevent the \nenemy (already surrounded by land,) from \n\n\n\n94 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM* \n\nmaking use of them for fresh provisions. In \nthe latter end of May, between two and three \nhundred men were sent to drive off the stock \nfrom Hog and Noddle islands, which are situ- \nated on the north-east side of Boston harbour. \nAdvantage having been taken of the ebb-tide, \nwhen the water is fordable between the main \nand Hog island, as it is between that and \nNoddle-island, the design was effected. But \na skirmish ensued, in which some of the ma- \nrines, who had been stationed to guard them, \nwere killed : and as the firing continued be- \ntween the British water-craft and our party, \na reinforcement of three hundred men, with \ntwo pieces of artillery, was ordered to join the \nlatter. Greneral Putnam took the command, \nand having himself gone down on the beach, \nwithin conversing distance, and ineffectual'- \nly ordered the people on board an arm- \ned schooner to striKe, he plied her with \nshot so furiously that the crew made their \nescape, and the vessel was burnt. Ad \narmed sloop was likewise so much disabled as \nto be towed off by the boats of the fleet \nThus ended this affair, in which several hun- \ndred sheep, and some cattle were removed \nfrom under the muzzles of the enemy's cannon, \nand our men, accustomed to stand fire, bj \nbeing for many hours exposed to it, without \nmeetmg with any loss. \n\nThe Provincial Generals having received \nadvice that the British Commander in Chief \ndesigned to take possession of the heights on \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 95 \n\nthe peninsula of Charlestown, detached a \nthousand men in the night of the 16th of June, \nunder the orders of General Warren, to in- \ntrench themselves upon one of these eminen- \nces, named Bunker-Hill. Though retarded \nby accidents, from beginning the work until \nnearly midnight, yet, by dawn of day, they \nhad constructed a redoubt about eight rods \nsquare, and commenced a breast-work from \nthe left to the low grounds ; which an insuf- \nferable fire from the shipping, floating batte- \nries, and cannon on Copp^s Hill, in Boston, \nprevented them from completing. At mid-day \nfour battalions of foot, ten companies of grena- \ndiers, ten companies of light-infantry, with a \nproportion of artillery, commanded by Major- \nGeneral Howe, landed under a heavy cannon- \nade from the ships, and advanced in three \nlines to the attack. The light-infantry being \nformed on the right, was directed to turn the \nleft flank of the Americans ; and the grena- \ndiers, supported by two battalions, to storm \nthe redoubt in front. Meanwhile, on applica- \ntion, these troops were augmented by the \n47th regiment, the 1st battalion of marines, \ntogether with some companies of Hght-infan- \ntry and grenadiers, which formed an aggre- \ngate force of between two and three thousand \nmen.^ But so difiicult was it to reinforce the \n\n\n\n* The preceding paragt*aph was copied from a British Re)< ister, \nbeing the Eng^ttsh account of the troop : sent to the attack uf Bun- \nker-Hill, and the disposition of those troops. This account, and \nothers, published at the time, and ascribing^ the •ommand of the \n\n\n\n96 . LIPB OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nAmericans, by sending detaqhments across the \nNeck, which was raked bj the cannon of the \nshipping, that not more than fifteen hundred \nmen were brought into action. Few instan- \nces can be produced in the annals of mankind, \nwhere soldiers, who never had before faced an \nenemy, or heard the whistling of a bail, be- \nhaved with such deliberate and persevering \nvalour. It was not until after the grenadiers \nhad been twice repulsed to their boats, Gene- \nral Warren slain, his troops exhausted of their \nammunition, their lines in a manner enfiladed \nby artillery, and the redoubt half filled with \nBritish regulars, that the word was given to \nretire. In that forlorn condition, the specta- \ncle was astonishing as new, to behold these \nundisciplined men, most of them without bayo- \nnets, disputing with the but-end of their mus- \nkets against tne British bayonet, and receding \nin sullen despair. Still the light-infantry on \ntheir left would certainly have gained their \nrear, and exterminated this gallant corps, had \nnot a body of four hundred Connecticut men, \nwith the Captains Knowlton and Chester, af- \nter forming a temporary breast-work, by pull- \ning up one post-and-rail fence and putting \nit upon another, performed prodigies of brave- \nry. They held the enemy at bay until the \nmain body had relinquished the heights, and \nthen retreated across the Neck with more \nregularity, and less loss, than could have been \n\nAmerican foree to Warren, probably occasioned ihe historical er- \nror on l^iat subject, f Editor. J \n\n\n\nIIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 97 \n\nexpected. The British, who effected nothing \nbut the destruction of Charlestown by a \nwanton conflagration, had more than one half \nof their whole number killed and wounded : \nthe Americans only three hundred and fifty- \nfive killed, wounded, and missing. In this \nbattle, the presence and example of General \nPutnam, who arrived with the reinforcement^ \nwere not less conspicuous than useful. He \ndid every thing that an intrepid and experien- \nced officer could accomplish. The enemy \npursued to Winter-Hill — Putnam made a \nstand, and drove them back under cover of \ntheir ships.* \n\nThe premature death of Warren^ one of \nthe most illustrious patriots that ever bled in \nthe cause of freedom ; the veteran appearance \nof Putnam, collected, yet ardent in action ; to- \ngether with the astonishing scenery and inter- \nesting groupe around Bunker-Hill, rendered- \nthis a magnificent subject for the historic pen- \ncil. Accordingly Trumbull, formerly an Aid- \nde-Camp to General Washington, afterwards^ \nDeputy-Adjutant-General of the northern ar- \nmy, now an artist of great celebrity in Europe^ \nhath finished this picture with that boldnes9^ \n\n* Sach Tvasthe statement made in some American>new8-papert \nof that day, but without any foundation in fact There was na \npursuit of the British beyond Bunker>HiiI ; bat General P'ltiiam^ \n« with roost of the retreating troops took post on Prospeot-Uill) and \nbeing joined by others whieh had not been in action began an en« \ntrenohmetit, and the next morning, presented to the enemy anoth-^ \ner Hue of defence, equally formidable with that which had beea \npurchased the preceding day^ at the expenee of so much blood. \n\n9* \n\n\n\n98 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nof conception, and those touches of art which \ndemonstrate the master. Heightened in hor- \nror by the flames of a burning town, and the \nsmoke of conflicting armies, the principal \nscene, taken the moment when Warren fell, \nrepresents that hero in the agonies of death, \na grenadier on the point of oayoneting him, \nand Colonel Small, to whom he was familiarly \nknown, arresting the soldier's arms ; at the \nhead of the Britisn line, Major Pitcaime is seen | \nfalling dead into the arms of his son ; and not \nfar distant General Putnam is placed at the \nrear of our retreating troops, in the light blue \nand scarlet uniform he wore that day, with \nhis head uncoyered, and his sword waving to- \nwards the enemy, as it were to stop their im- \nEetuous pursuit. In nearly the same attitude \ne is exnibited by Barlow in that excellent \npoem^ the Vision of Columbus. \n\n^ There strides bold Putnam, and from all the plains \nCalls the third hogt, the tardy rear sustains. \nAnd, 'mid the whizzing deaths that fill the air, \n\n\\Vaves back his sword, and^dares the folPwing war.** \n\n« f \n\n* The writer of this Essay had occasion of remarking to the \npoet and the painter, while they were three thousand miles distant \nfrom each other, at which distance they had formed and executed \nthe plans of their respective productions, the similarity observable \nin their descriptions of General Putnam. These Chiefs dctuvre9 \nare mentioned not with a vain presumption of adding eclat of du- \nration to works which have received the seal of immortality, but \nbecause they preserve, in the sister arts, the same ill ustrioas action \nef our hero, i persuade myself! need not apologize for annexing \nthe beautiful lines from the poem in question, on the death of \nGeneral Warren. \n\n\" There, hapless Warren, thy cold earth was seen : \nThere spring thy laurels in immortal green ^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 9f \n\nAfter this action, the British strongly forti- \nfied themselves on the peninsulas of Boston \nand Charlestown ; while the Provincials re- \nmained posted in the circumjacent country in \nsuch a manner as to form a blockade. In the \nbeginning of July, General Washington, who \nhad been constituted by Congress, Command- \ner in Chief of the American forces, arrived at \nCambridge, to take the command. Having \nformed the army into three grand divisions, \nconsisting of about twelve regiments each, he \nappointed Major-General Ward to command \nthe right wing, Major-General Lee the left \nwing, and Major-General Putnam the reserve. \nGeneral Putnam's alertness in accelerating the \nconstruction of the necessary defences was \nparticularly noticed and highly approved by \nthe Commander in Chief.* \n\nAbout the 20th of July, the declaration of \n\n\n\nDearest of Chiefs that e?er press'd tlie plain. \nIn freedom's cause, with early honours, slain. \nStill dear in death, as when in fight you roov'd,, \nBy hosts applauded and by hearn approved ; \nThe faithful muse shall teil the world thy faroe^ \nAnd unborn realms resound th' immortal name.\"* \n\n* Washington and Putnam were unknown to eacti other till \nthey met at Cambridge The open, undisguised frankness of the \nlatter, together with his great activity and personal industry, in \nevery thing pertaining to the army, soon attracted the attention of \nthe former; an early intimacy was formed, and a firm friendship \nestablished, which continued undisturbed during the whole period \nthey were associated in service. It was not in Putnam's nature to \nbe idle : inured to habits of industry himself, no man was better \ncalculated to make others so ; and Washington observing the great \nprogress that had been made in a short time, and with but few \nmen, in raising a work of defence, said to him — \" you seem to \nhave the faculty General Putnam, of infasingvour owniaduitriotf)^ \nspirit i»to all ^e workmen you employ. (j^ditor.J \n\n\n\n100 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nCongress, setting forth the reasons of their \ntaking up arms, was proclaimed at the head \nof the several divisions. It concluded with \nthese patriotic and noble sentiments : '* In our \nown native land, in defence of the freedom that \nis our birth-right, and which we ever enjoyed \nuntil the late violation of it ; for the protection \nof our property, acquired solely by the honest \nindustry of our forefathers and ourselves ; \nagainst violence actually offered, we have tak- \nen up arms. We shall lay them down when \nhostilities shall cease on the part of the ag- \ngressors, and all danger of their being renew- \ned shall be removed, and not before. \n\n\" With an humble confidence in the mercies \nof the supreme and impartial Judge and Ruler \nof the universe, we most devoutly implore his \ndivine goodness to conduct us happily through \nthis great conflict, to dispose our adversaries^ \nto reconciliation on reasonable terms, and^ \nthereby, to relieve the empire from the calami- \nties of civil war.\" \n\nAs soon as these memorable words were \npronounced to General Putnam's division, \nwhich he had ordered to be paraded on Pros- \npect-Hill, they shouted in three huzzas aloud, \nAmen ! whereat (a cannon from the fort being \nfired as a signal) the new Standard lately sent \nfrom Connecticut, was suddenly seen to rise \nand unrol itself to the wind. On one side was \ninscribed, in large letters of gold, \" An appeal \nTO HEAVEN,\" and on the other were delineated \nthe armiorial bearings of Connecticut, wbicb^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 101 \n\nwithout supporters or crest, consist, unosten- \ntatiously, o( three Vines; with this motto, ** Qui \ntranstulit^ sustinet ;* alluding to the pious con- \nfidence our forefathers placed in the protec- \ntion of Heaven, on those three allegorical \n\nscions KNOWLEDGE LIBERTY RELIGION— \n\nwhich they had been instrumental in trans- \nplanting to America. \n\nThe strength of position on the enemy's \npart, and want of ammunition on our's,^ pre- \nvented operations of magnitude from being \nattempted. Such diligence was used in forti- \nfying our camps, and such precaution adopted \nto prevent surprise, as to ensure tranquillity \nto the troops during the winter. In the spring, \na position was taken so menacing to the ene- \nmy, as to cause them, on the 17th of March, \n1776, to abandon Boston, not without consid- \nerable precipitation and dereliction of royai \nstores.f \n\n\n\n»t \n\n\n\n• Literally, \"^ toho trantplanted them tvill auppoiH them,' \n\nf In the expectation that the flower of the British troops would \nbe employed against the Heights of Dorchester, (which had been \ntaken possession of by the Americans on the night of the 4th of \nMarch, 1776») General Washington had concerted apian for avail- \ning himself of tiiat occasion, to attack the town of Boston itself. \nFour thousand chosen men were held in yeadiness to embark at \nthe mouth of Cambridge riTcr, on a signal to be given if the garri- \nson should appear to be so weakened by the detachment made \nfrom it as to justify an assault. These troops were to embark in \ntwo divisions, the iirst to be led by Brigadier-General Sullivan, the \nsecond by Brigadier-GeMeral Green, and the whole to be under the \ncommand of Major-f General Putnam. The boats were to be preced- \ned by three floatiMgbitttevies,wlilch were to keep up a heavy fire on \nthat part of the town where the troops were to land It was pro* \nposed that the first divisioi) should land at the powder-house, and \ngain possession of Beacon Hill ; the second at Barton's Point, or a \nlittle south of it, and after securing that post, to join the other divi- \n■ion, force the enemy's works, and open the gates in order to gire \nadmission to the troops from Roxbury. f Editor, J \n\n\n\n102 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* \n\nAs a part of the hostile fleet lingered for \nsome time in Nantasket-Road, about nine \nmiles below Boston, General Washington con- \ntinued himself in Boston, not only to see the \ncoast entirely clear, but also to make many \nindispensable arrangements. His Excellency, \nproposing to leave Major-General Ward, with \na few regiments, to finish the fortifications in- \ntended as a security against an attack by \nwater, in the mean time despatched the great- \ner part of the army to New- York, where it \nwas most probable the enemy would make a \ndescent. Upon the sailing of a fleet with \ntroops in the month of January, Major-General \nLee had been sent to the defence of that city; \nwho, after having caused some works to be \nlaid out, proceeded to follow that fleet to \nSouth-Carolina. The Commander in Chief \nwas now exceedingly solicitous that these \nworks* should be completed as soon as pos- \nsible, and accordingly gave the following \n\n\" Orders and Instructions for Major-General \n\nPutnam. \n\n\" As there are the best reasons to believe \nthat the enemy's fleet and army, which Jeft \nNan tasket- Road last Wednesday evening, are \nbound to New- York, to endeavour to possess \nthat important post, add, if possible, to secure \nthe communication by Hudson's river to Can- \nada, it must be our care to prevent them from \naccomplishing their designs. To that end I \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 103 \n\nhave detached Brigadier-General Heatb, with \nthe whole body of riflemen, and five battalions \nof the Continental army, by the way of Nor- \nwich, in Connecticut, to* New-York. These, \nby an express arrived yesterday from General \nHeath, I have reason to believe, are in New- \nYork. Six more battalions, under General \nr Sullivan, march this morning by the same \nroute, and will, I hope, arrive there in eight \nor ten days at farthest. The rest of the \narmy will immediately follow in divisions, leav- \ning only a convenient space between each di* \nvision, to prevent confusion, and want of ac- \ncommodation upon their march. You will, no \ndoubt, make the best despatch in getting to \nNew- York. Upon your arrival there, you \nwill assume the command, and immediately \nproceed in continuing to execute the plan \nproposed by Major-General Lee, for fortifying \nthat city, and securing the passes of the £ast \nand North rivers. If^ upon consultation with \nthe Brigadiers General and Engineers, any al- \nteration in that plan is thought necessary, you \nare at liberty to make it: cautiously avoiding \nto break in too much upon his main design, \nunless where it may be apparently necessary \n80 to do, and that by the general voice and \nOpinion of the gentlemen above-mentioned. \n\n^ You will meet the Quarter-Master-Gene- \nral, Colonel Mifilin, and Commissary-General,* \n\ny \n\n* ColoDel Joseph Trambully eldest son to the GoTcrnor of that \nname. \n\n\n\n104 UFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\n\n\ns \n\n\n\nat New-York. As these are both men of ex- \ncellent talents in their dilferent departments^ \nyou will do well to give them all the authority \nand assistance they require : And should a \ncouncil of war be necessary, it is my direction \nthey assist at it. \n\n'^Yo7fr long service and experience will, better \nthan my parti<'uktr directions at this distance, \n\nEoint out to you the works most proper to \ne first raised ; and your perseverance, activ- \nity, and zeal will lead you, without my recom- \nmending it, to exert every nerve to disappoint \nthe enemy's designs. \n\n*' Devoutly praying that the power which \nhas hitherto sustainea the American arms, may \ncontinue to bless them with the divine pro- \ntection, I bid you — farewell. \n\n\"Given at Head-Quarters, in Cambridge, \nthis twenty-ninth of March, 1776. \n\n\"'G. Washington.\" \n\nInvested with these commands, General \nPutnam travelled by long and expeditious \nstages to New-YorL His first precaution, \nupon his arrival, was to prevent disturbance, \nor surprise in the night season. With these \nobjects in view, after posting the necessary \nguards, he issued his orders.\"^ He instituted, \n\n• general orders. \n\n*'ffead-Quarfer9t J^e-w-York, Jpril 5, 1776. \n\n\"The soldiers are strictly enjoined to retire to their barracks \nand quarters at tattoo-beating, and to remain there until the re- \nveille is beat. \n\n\n\nLIFB OF 6ENEBAL PUTNAM. 105 \n\n4 \n\nlikewise^ other wholesome regulations to me-* \nliorate the police of the troops, and to pre- \nserve the good agreement that subsisted be- \ntween them and the citizens^ \n\nNotwithstanding the war had now raged, \nin other parts, with unaccustomed severity for \nnearly a year, yet the British ships at New- \nYork, one of which had once fired upon the \ntown to intimidate the inhabitants, found the \nmeans of being supplied with fresh water and \nprovisions. General Putnam resolved to adopt \neffectual measures for putting a period to this \nintercourse, and accordin2;ly expressed his \nprohibition* in the most pointed terms. \n\nNearly at the same moment, a detachment \nof a thousand Continentals was sent to oc- \ncupy Governor's Island, a regiment to fortify \nRed Hook, and some companies of riflemen \n\n\" Neceuity obliges the General to desire the inhabitants of the \nojty to observe the same rule, as no person will be pcrmitteil to \npass any sentry after this night without tht* conntcrsigjn. \n\n\" The inhabitants, whose business require it. may know the \ncountersign, by applying to auy of the Brigade- Majors.\" \n\n• PKOHIBrnON \n\nHead- Quarters^ JWw-ForA?, ^pril 8. 1776. \n** The General informs the inb tbitants, that it is become abso- \nlutely necessary, that all communication between the ministerial \nfleet and the shore shouhl' be immediately stopped , for that pur- \npose he has given positive orders, the ships should no longer be \nfurnished with provi8ion.s. Any inhabilauts, or oihers. who shall \nbe taken that havie been on board, after the publishing this order, \nor near any of the ships, or going on board, will be considered as \nenemies, and treated accordingly \n\n« Ail boats are to sail frem Beekman slip. Captain Jamea Alner \nis appointed inspector, and will give permits to oy»ter:uen It is \nordered and expected that none attempt going without a pass. \n\n\"ISR.^EL PUTN.Wl, \n\"Major-General in the Continental Army, and Commander \n\nin Chief of the Forces in New-York.\" \n\n10 \n\n\n\n106 LIFE OF GEKfeRAL PUTITAM. ' \n\nto the Jersey shore. Of two boats, belonging \nto two armed vessels, which attempted to take \non board fresh water from the watering place \non Staten-Island, one was driven off by the \nriflemen, with* two or three seamen killed in \nit, and the other captured with thirteen. A \nfew days afterwards. Captain Vandeput, of \nthe Asia man of war, the senior officer of the \nships on this station, finding the intercourse \nwith the shore interdicted, their limits con- \ntracted, and that no good purposes could be \nanswered by remainmg there, sailed, with all \nthe armed vessels, out of the harbour. These \narrangements and transactions, joined to an \nunremitting attention to the completion of the \ndefences, gave full scope to the activity of \nGeneral Putnam, until :tne arrival of General \nWashington, which happened about the middle \nof April. \n\n• The Commander in Chief, in his first public \norders, \" complimhnied the officers who had suc^' \ncessively commanded at J^ew-York^ and return- \ned his thanks to them as well as to the officers \nand soldiers under their command, for the \nmany works of defence which had been so ex- , \npeditiously erected : at the same time he ex- \npressed an expectation that the same spirit of \nzeal for the service would continue to animate \ntheir future conduct.\" Putnam, who was then \nthe only Major-General with the main army, \nhad still a chief agency in forwarding the for- \ntifications, and, with the assistance of the \n\n\n\nLIFE OF QBNCRAL PUTNAIL 107 \n\nBrigadiers Spencer and Lord Stirling, in as- \nsigning to the different corps their alarm posts* \nCongress having intimated a desire ot cod« \nsuiting with the , Commander in Chief, on th« \ncritical posture of affairs, his Excellency re- \npaired to Philadelphia accordingly, and was \nabsent from the twenty-first of May uhtil the \nsixth of June. General Putnam, who com- \nmanded in that interval, had it in charge to \nopen all letters directed to General Wasliing- \nton, an public service^ and, if important, alter \nregulating his conduct by their contents, to \nforward them by express; to expedite tiM \nworks then erectmg ; to begin others which \nwere specified ; to establish signals for com- \nmunicating an alarm; to guard against the \npossibility of surprise ; to secure well the \npowder magazin^ to augment, by every means \nm his power, t)ie quantity of cartridges ; and \nto Send Brigadier-General Lord Stirling to \nput the p'osts in the Highlands into a proper \nx^ondition of defence. He had also a private \nand confidential instruction^ to afford whatever \naid might be required by the Provincial Con- \ngress of New- York, for apprehending certain \nof their disaffected citizens : and as it would \nbe most convenient to take the detachment \nfor this service from the troops on Long- \nIsland, . under the command of Brigadier- \nGeneral Greene, it was recommended that \nthis ofiicer -should be advised of the plan, and \nthat the execution should be conducted with \n\n\n\n108 LIFE c» OBireiui ptrTNAir. \n\n•ecrecjr and celerity, as well as with decency \naod good order. In the records of the army \nare preserved the daily orders which were \nissued in the absence of the Commander in \nChief, who, on his return^ was riot only satis- \nfied that the works iiad been prosecuted with \nall' possible despatch, but also that the other \nduties had been properly discharged. \n\nIt was the latter end of June, when the \nBritish fleet, which had been at Halifax wait* \ning for* reinforcements froin Europe, began to \n«rrive at New-York. To obstruct its passage, \nlome marine preparations had been made. Gen- \neral Putnam, to whom the direction of the whale- \nboats, fire-rails, flat-bottomed boats, and armed \nvessels, was committed, afforded his patronage \nto a project for destroying the enemy's ship- \nping by explosion. A mach^e^ altogether dif- \nferent from any thing hitherto devised by the \nart of man, had been invented by Mr. Uavid \nBushnell,^ for sub-marine navigation, which \n\n* David Bashnell, A. M. of Saybrook, in Connecticut, inrented \nseTeral other machines for the annoyance of shipping; tliese, fiom \naccidents, not militating against the philosophical principles om \n>iirbich their success depended] 'onlj \"partially succeeded. Ue de-^ \nstroyed a vessel in the charge of Commodore Symmoods, u'hose \nreport to the Admiral was published. One of his kegs also de- \nmolished a vessel near the Long-Island shore. About Christmas, \n1777, he committed to the Delaware a number of kegs, destined \nto fall among the British fleet at Pbiladelphia ; but his squadron \nof kegs, having been separated and retarded by the ice, demolished \nbut a single boat. This catastrophe, however, produced an alarm, \nunprecedented in its nature and degree ; which has been so hap- \npily described in the subsequent song, by the Hon. Francis Hop- \nkinson, that the event it celebrates will not be forgotten, so Iqng as \nmankind shall continue to be delighted with works of humoiir and \ntaste, \n\n\n\nLIFE OF OENEllAL PUTNAl^ 109 \n\nwas found to answer the purpose perfectly, \nof rowing horizontally at any eiven depth \nunder water, and of rising or smking at pleas- \n\nTHE BATTLE OF TUB KEGS i^A Song. \nTune, Moggy Lawder. \n\nGallants, attend, and hear a friend \n\nThrill forth harmonious ditty : \nStrange things I'll tell, which late befel \n\nIn Philadelphia citj. \n\n'Twas early day, as poets saj. \n\nJust when the sun was rising, \nA soldier stood on log of wood. \n\nAnd saw a sight surprising. \n\nAs in a maze he stood to ^ze, ^ \n\nThe truth can't be denied, Sir, \nHe spied a score of kegs or raore^ \n\nCome floating down the tide, Sii^ \n\nA sailor, too, in jerkin blue. \n\nThe strange appearance viewing. \nFirst damn'd his eyes, in great surprise. \n\nThen said — ** Some mischief's brewing* \n\n\" These Kegs now hold the rebels bold, \n\n« Packed up like pickled herring; \n« And they're come down, t' attack the towA \n\n\"In this new way of ferry 'ng.'* \n\nThe soldier flew ; the sailor too ; \n\nAnd, searM almost to death. Sir, \nWore out their shoes to spread the newt^ \n\nAnd ran till out of breath. Sir. \n\nKow op and down, throughout the town^ \n\nMost frantic scenes were acted ; \nAnd some ran here, and some ran therc^ \n\nLike men almost distracted. \n\nSome fire eried, which some denied. \n\nBut said the earth bad quaked : \nAnd girls and bovs, with hideous noi8e> \n\nRan through the town half naked. \n\nSir William* he, snug as a flea. \nLay all this time a snoring;; \n\n* Sir WilUam ffovt. \n\nJO* \n\n\n\n110 X.IFB OF GENERAL PVTlfAM. \n\nure. To this machine^ called the American \nTurtle, was attached a magazine of powder^ \nwhich it was intended to be fastened under \n\n\n\nNpr dreamt of harm, aa he lay warm \nId bed with Mrs. L*r*Dg. \n\nNow in a fright, he starts upright, \n\n- Awak'd bj such a clatter : \nHe rubs both eyes, and boldly eries, \n** For God's sake, what's the matter I \n\n\n\n»» \n\n\n\nAt his bed-side he then espied \nSir Erskine* at command. Sir; \n\nVpon one foot he had one booty \nAnd t'other in his hand, Sir. \n\n\" Arise ! arise !\" Sir firskioe cries ; \n\n\" The rebels — more's the pity — \n'* Without a boat, are all on float, \n\n\" And ranged before the city. \n\n*<The mottev crew, in vessels new, \n«« With Satan for their guide. Sir, \n\n'' Pack'd up in bags, or wooden kegs, \n\"Come driving down the tide. Sir: \n\n^* Therefore prepare for bloody war ; \n\n*< These kegs must all be routed, \n^' Or surely we despis'd shall be, \n\n\" And British courage doubted.' \n\n\n\nf» \n\n\n\nThe Royal. band now ready stand. \n\nAll rang'il in dread array. Sir, \nWith stomachs stout, to see it out. \n\nAnd make a bloody day. Sir. \n\nThe cannons roar from shore to shore. \n\nThe small arms make a rattle : \nSince wars began, I'm sure no man \n\nE'er, saw so strange a battle. \n\nThe. rebel hvales, the rebel dales, \n, With rebel trees surrounded, \nTlie disunt woods, the hills and floods. \nWith rebel echoes sounded. \n\n* Sir Wimum BrMne. \n\nt The BritUh officer 9 vere 90 fond of the word rebel, tftat they \noften applied it moot abe^rdbf. \n\n\n\n&IFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. Ill \n\nthe bottom of a ship, with a driving screw, in \nsuch sort, that the -same stroke which disen- \ngaged it from the machine, should put the \ninternal clock-work in motion. This* being \ndone, the ordinary operation of a gun-lock \nat the distance of half an hour, an nour, or \nany determinate time, would cause the powder \nto explode, and leave the effects to the com- \nmon laws of nature. The simplicity, yet \ncombination discovered in the mechanism of \nthis wonderful machine, were acknowledged \nby those skilled in physics, and particularlr \nhydraulics, to be not less ingenious than novel. \n\nThe fish below swam to and fro. \n\nAttacked from ev'ry quarter; \n«« Why sure,\" thoaght thej, « the Devil's to ptj \n\n\" Moog'st folks abore the water.\" \n\nThe ken, 'tis said, though strongly made \n\nOf reoel staves and hoops. Sir, \nCould not oppose their powerful foes. \n\nThe conqu ring British troops. Sir. \n\nBrom morn to ni^ht those men of might \nDisplay'd amazing courage ; ^ \n\nAnd when the sun was fair^ down* \nRetir'd to sup their porridge. \n\nAn hundred men, wilh each a peB> \n\nOr more, upon my word. Sir, \nIt is most true, would be too few \n\nTheir valour to record. Sir. \n\nSuch feats did Uiey perform that day^ \n\nUpon those wicked kegs. Sir, \nThat years to eome^ if they get home, \n• They'll make their boasts and brags, Sii^. \n\nMr* BushneU, having been highly recommended for his talenti \nby President Stiles, General Parsons, and some other gentlemen \nof science, was appointed ajGaptain in the corps of sappers and \nminers ; in which capacitj^ne continued to s^rye with that corps \ndntit the eoncluslon of the war. \n\n\n\n112 JLIFE OF GENERAL PtTTKAM. \n\nThe inventor, whose constitution was too fee- \nble to permit him to perform the labour (^ \nrowing the Turtle, had taught his brother to \nmanage it with perfect dexterity ; but unfor- \ntunately his brother fell sick of a fever just \nbefore the arrival of the fleet. Recourse was \ntherefore had to a sergeant in the Connecticut \ntroops; who, having received whatever in- \nstructions could be communicated to him in \na short time, went, too late in the night, with \nall the apparatus, under the bottom of the \n£agle, a sixty-four gun ship, on board of \nwhich the British Admiral, Lord Howe, com- \nmanded. In coming up, the screw that had \nbeen calculated to perforate the <;opper \nsheathing, unluckily struck against some iron \nplates where the rudder is connected with the \nstem. This accident, added to the strength \nof the tide which prevailed, arid the want of \nadequate skill in the sergeant, occasioned such \ndelaj^ that the dawn began to appear, where- \nupon he abandoned the magazme to chance^ \nand after gaining a proper distance, for the \nsake of expedition, rowed on the surface to- \nwards the town. General Putnam, who had \nbeen on the wharf anxiously expecting the \nresult, from the first glimmering of light, be- \nheld the machine near Govemor^s-Island, and \nsent a whale-boat to bring it on shore. In \nabout twenty minutes afterwards the magazine \nexploded, and blew a vast column of water \nto an amazing height in the a^r« As the \n\n\n\nLIFB OF. GENERAL PUTNAM. 113 \n\nwhole business had been kept an Inviolable \nsecret, he was not a little diverted with the \n, various conjectures, whether this stupendous \nnoise was produced by a bomb, a meteor, a \nwater-spout, or an earthquake. Other opera- \ntions of a most serious nature rapidly suc- \nceeded, and prevented a repetition of the ex- \nperiment. \n\nOn the twenty-second day of August, the \nvan of the British landed on Long Island, and \nwas soon followed by the whole army, except \none brigade of Hessians, a small body of Bnt* \nish, and some convalescents, left on Staten* \nIsland. Our troops on Long Island had been \ncommanded during the summer by General \nGreene who was now sick ; and General Put* \nnam took the command but two days before \nthe battle of Flatbush. The instructions to \nhim, pointing in the first place to decisive ex- \npedients for suppressing the scattering, un- \nmeaning, and wasteful fire of our men, con- \ntained regulations for the service of the guards, \nthe Brigadiers and the Field-officers of the \nday ; for the appointment and encouragement \nof proper scouts, as well as for lieeping the \nmen constantly at their posts ; for preventing \nthe burning of buildings, except it should be \nnecessary for military purposes, and for pre- \nserving private property from pillage and de- \nstruction. To tnese regulations were added, \nin a more diffuse, though not lesa spirited and \nprofessional style, reflections on the distinction \n\n\n\n114 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. ^ \n\nof an army from a mob ; with exhortations for \nthe soldiers to conduct themselves manfully in \nsuch a cause, and for their Commander to \noppose the enemj^s approach with detach* \nments of his best troops ; while he should \nendeavour to render their advance more diffi* \ncult by constructing abbatis, and to entrap \ntheir parties bj forming ambuscades. General \nPutnam was within the lines, when an engage- \nment took ^lace on , the 27th, between tne \nBritish army and our advanced corps, in which \nwe lost about a thousand tnen in killed and \nmissing, with the Generals Sullivan and Lord \nStirling made prisoners. But our men, though \nattacked on all sides, fought with great \nbravery ; and the enemy's loss was not light. \nThe unfortunate battle of LongJsland^ the \nmasterly retreat from thence, and the actual \npassage of part of the hostile fleet in the East- \nKiver, above the town, preceded the evacua- \ntion of New York. A promotion of four \nMajor-Generals, and six brigadiers, had pre- \nviously been made by Congress. After the \nretreat from Long-Island, the main army^ con- \nsisting, for the moment, of sixty battalions, of \nwhich twenty were Continental, the residue \nlevies and militia, was, conformably to the ex- \nigencies of the service, rather than to the rules \nof war, formed into fourteen brigades. Major- \nGeneral Putnam commanded the right grand \ndivision of five brigades, the Majors-General \nSpencer and Greene the centre of six brigade^s^ \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GtSNERAL PtJTI^AM. 115 \n\nand Major-General Heath the left, which was \nposted near Kiog's-bridge, and composed of \ntwo brigades. The whole never amounted \nto twenty thousand eflfective men ; while the \nBritish and German forces, under Sir William \nHowe, exceeded twenty-two thousand : in- \ndeed, the minister had asserted in parliament \nthat they would consist of more tiian thirty \nthousand. Our two centre divisions, both \ncommanded by General Spencer,'in the sick- \nness of -General Greene, moved towards \nMount Washington, Harlaem Heights, and \nHom^s Hook, as soon as the final resolution \nwas taken in a council of war, on the twelfth \nof September, to abandon the city. That \nevent, thus circumstanced, took effect a few \ndays after. \n\nOn Sunday, the fifteenth, the British, after \nsending three ships of war up the North- \nRiver, to Bloomingdale, and keeping up, for \nsome hours, a severe cannonade on our lines, \nfrom those already in the East-River, landed \nin force at Turtle Bay. Our new levies^, com- \nmanded by a State Brigadier-General, fled \nwithout making resistance. Two brigades \nof Greneral Putnam's division, ordered to \ntheir support, notwithstanding the exertion of \ntheir Brigadiers, and of the Commander in \nChief himself, who came up at the instant, \nconducted themselves in the same shameful \nmanner* His Excellency then ordered the \nHeights of Harlaem, a strong position, to be \n\n\n\n116 UFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. . \n\noccupied. Thither the forces in-'tbe vicinity, \nas well as the fugitives, repaired. In the \nmean time General Jrutnam, with the remain- \nder of his command, and the ordinaijr outi- \nposts, was in the city. After having caused \nthe brigades to begin their retreat hy the \nroute oi Bloomingdale, in order to avoid the \nenemy, who were then in the possession of the \nmain road leading to King's-bridge, he gal- \nlopped to call on the pickets and guards. \nHaving myself been a volunteer in his division, \nand iacting Adjutant to the last regiment that \nleft the city, 1 had frequent opportunities, that \nday, of beholding him, for the pui pose oi issu- \ning orders, and encouraging the troops, flying, \non his horse covered with foam, wherever his \npresence was most necessai'y. Without his \nextraordinary exertions, the guards must have \nbeen inevitably lost, and it is probable the \nentire corps would have been cut in pieces. \nWhen we were not far from Bloomingdale, an \nAid-de-camp came &om him at full speed, to \ninform that a column of- British infantry was \ndescending upon our right. Our rear was \nsoon fired upon, and the Colonel of pur regi- \nment, whose order was just communicated for \nthe front to file ofi* to the left, was killed on \nthe spot. With no other loss we joined the \narmy, after dark, on the Heights of Harlaem. \nBefore our brigades came in, we were \ngiven up for lost by all our friends, ^o criti- \ncal indeed was our situation, and so narrow \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL FUTNAM. 117 \n\nthe gap by which we escaped, that the instant \nwe had passed the enemy closed it by extending \ntheir line from river to river. Our men, who \nhad been fifteen hours under arms, harassed \nby marching and countermarching, in conse- \nquence of incessant alarms, exhausted as they \nwere by heat and thirst, (for the day proved \ninsupportably hot, and few or none had can- \ni;eens, insomuch, that some died at the brooks \nwhere they drank) if attacked, could have \nmade but ^ble resistance. \n\nIf we take into consideration the debilitat- \ning sickness which weakened almost all our \ntroops, the hard duty by which they were \nworn down in constructmg numberless de- \nfences, the continual want of rest they had \nsuffered since the enemy landed, in guarding \nfrom nocturnal surprise, the desponoency in- \nfused into their minds by an insular situation, \n«nd a consciousness of inferiority to the enemy \nin discipline, together with the disadvanta- \ngeous terms upon, which, in their state of sep- \naration, they might have been forced to \nengage, it appears highly probable that day \nwould have presented an easy victory to the \nBritish. On the other side, the American \nCommander in Chief had wisely countenanced \nan opinion, then universally credited, that our \narmy was three times more numerous than it \nwas in reality. It is not a subject for aston- \nishment, that the British, ignorant of the exist- \ning circumstances, imposed ^upon as to the \n\n11 \n\n\n\n118 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nnumbers bj reports, and recollecting what a \nfew brave men, slightly entrenched, had per- \nformed at Bunker-Hill, should proceed with \ngreat circumspection. For their reproaches, \nthat the rebels, as they a£fected to style us, \nloved digging better than fighting, and that \nthey earthed themselves in holes like foxes, \nbut ill concealed at the bottom of their \nown hearts the profound impression that ac- \ntion had made. Cheap and contemptible as \nwe had once seemed in their eyes, it had \ntaught them to hold us in some respect. This \nrespect, in conjunction with a fixed belief, \nthat the enthusiastic spirit of our opposition \nmust soon subside, ana that the inexhaustible \nresources of Britain would ultimately triumph, \nwithout leaving any thing to chance (not the \navarice or treachery of the British General, \nas the factious of his own nation wished to in- \nsinuate,) retarded their operation, and afforded \nus leisure to rescue from annihilation the mis- \nerable relics of an army, hastening to dissolu- \ntion by the expiration of enlistments, and the \ncountry itself from irretrievable subjugation. \nIn truth, we are not less indebti:d to the \nmattock at one perloq, than to the musket \nat another, for our polmcal salvation. \nIt required great talents to determine when \none or the other was most profitably to be \nemployed. I am aware how fashionable it \nhas become to cpmpare the American Com- \nIttander in Chief, for the prudence displayed \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNA • 119 \n\nin those dilatory and defensive operations, so \nhappily prosecuted in the early stages of the \nwar, to the illustrious Roman, who acquired \nimmortality in restoring the Commonwealth \nby delay. Advantageous and flattering as the \ncomparison at first appears, it will be found, \non examination, to stint the American Fabius \nto the smaffe^ moiety of his merited jame. \nDid HE not. in scenes of almost unparalleled \nactivity, discover specimens of transcendent \nabilities ; and might it not be proved, to pro- \nfessional men, that boldness m council, and \nrapidity in execution, were, ai least, equally \nwith prudent procrastination, and the quality \nof not being compelled to action, attributes of \nhis military genius ? This^ however, was an \noccasion, as apparent as pressing, for attainiog \nhis object by delay. From that he had every \nthing to gain, nothing to lose. Yet there were \nnot wanting politicians^ at this very time, \nwho querulously blamed these Fabian raeas^ \nures, and loudly clamoured that the immense \nlabour and expense bestowed on the fortifica- \ntion of New- York, had been thrown away ; \nibat if we could not face the enemy there \nafter so many preparations, we might as well \nrelinquish the contest at once, for we could \nno wnere make a stand; and that if General \nWashington, with an army of sixty thousand \nmen, strongly entrenched, declined fighting \nwith Sir William Howe, who had little more \nthan one third of that number, it was not to \n\n\n\n\" i^ llFB OP GENBRAIi PUTNAM. \n\nbe expected he would find any other occa- \nsion that might induce him to engage. But \nGeneral Washington, content to sufTer a tem- \nporary sacrifice of personal reputation, for the \niake of securing a permanent advantage to \nhis country, and regardless of those idle clam- \nours for which he nad furnished materials, by \nmaking his countrymen, in order the more \neffectually to make his enemy believe his \nforce much greater than it actually was, in- \nflexibly pursued his system, and gloriously \ndemonstrated how poor and pitiful, m the es- \ntimation of A GREAT MIND, are the censorious \nstrictures of those novices in war and politicir, \nwho, with egual rashness and impudence, pre- \nsume to decide dogmatically on the merit of \nplans they could neither originate or compre^ \nnend ! \n\nThat night our soldiers, excessively fatigued \nby the sultry march of the day, their clothes- \nwet by a severe shower of rain that succeeded \ntowards the evening, their blood chilled by \nthe cold wind that produced a sudden change \nin the temperature of the air, and their hearts \nsunk withm them by the loss of baggage, ar- \ntillery, and works in which they had been \ntaught to put great confidence, lay upon their \narms, covered only by the clouds of an uncom- \nfortable sky. To retrieve our disordered \naffairs, and prevent the enemy from profiting \nby them, no exertion was relaxed, no vigilance \nremitted on the part of our higher officers. \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAIL 121 \n\nThe Tegiments which had been least exposed \nto fatigue that day, furnished the necessary \nmcquets to secure the army from surprise. \nThose whose miKtary lives had been short \nand unpractised, felt enough besides lassitude \nof body to disquiet the tranquillity of their \nrepose. Nor had those who were older in \nservice, and of more experience, any subject \nfor consolation. The warmth of enthusiasm^ \nseemed to be extinguished. The force of dis- \ncipline had not sufficiently occupied its place \nto give men a dependence upon each other. \nWe were apparently about to reap the bitter \niruits of that jealous policy, which some lead-* \ning men, with the best motives, had sown in \nour federal councils, when they caused the \nmode to be adopted, for carrying on the war \nby detachments of militia, from apprehension \nihat an established Continental army, after \ndefending the country against foreign inva- \nsion, might subvert its liberties themselves^ \nParadoxical as it will appear, it may be profit- \nable to be known to posterity, that while our \nvery existence as an independent people was- \nin question, the patriotic jealousy for tne safe- \nty of our future freedom had been carried ta \nsuch a virtuous but dangerous excess as welt \nnigh to preclude the attainment of our Inde- \npendence. Happily that limited and hazard-* \neus system soon gave room to one more en-^ \nlightened and salutary. This may be attri- \nbuted to the reiterated arguments, the ope«^ \n\n11* \n\n\n\n122 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nremonstrances, and the confidential commum- \ncations of the Commander in Chief; who^ \nthough not apt to despair of the Republic, on \nthis occasion expressed himself in terms of \nunusual desponaencj. He declared, in his \nletters, that ne faund, to his utter astonish- \nment and mortification, that no reliance could \nbe placed on a great proportion of his pres- \nent troops, and that, unless efiicient measures \nfor establishing a permanent force should be \nspeedily pursued, we had every reason to fear \nthe final ruin of our cause. \n\n^ext morning several parties of the enemy \nappeared upon the plains in our front On \nreceiving this intelligence. General Washing- \nion rooe quickly to the out-posts, for the \npurpose of preparing against an attack, if the \nenemy should advance with that design^ \nLieutenant-Colonel Knowlton's rcoigers, a \nfine selection from the eastern regiments, who \nhad been skirmishing: with an advanced party^ \ncame in, and infomed the General tLt a \nbody, of British were under cover of a small \neminence at no considerable distance. Hiff \nExcellency, willing to raise our men from \niheir dejection by me splendour of some little \nsuccess, ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Knowl- \nton^. with his rangers, and Major Leitch, with \nthree companies of Weedon's regiment of Vir- \nginians, to gain their rear ; while appearances \nnhould be made of an attack in front As \nnoon aa tb^ enemy s^w the party sent to de« \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 123 \n\ncoy them, they ran precipitately down the \nhill, took possession of some fences and bushes, \nand commenced a brisk firing at long shot. \nUnfortunately Knowlton andl^eitch maoe their \nonset rather m flank than in rear. The enemy \nchanged their front, and the skirmish at once \nbecame close and warm. Majot Leitch* hav- \ning received three balls through his side, was \nsoon borne from the field ; and Colonel Knowl- \nton, who had distinguished himself so gallantly \nat the battle of Bunker-HilU was mortally \nwounded immediately after. Their men, how- \never, undaunted by these disasters, stimulated \nwith the thirst of revenge for the loss of their \nleaders, and, conscious of acting under the eye \nof the Commander in Chief, maintained tne \nconflict with uncommon spirit and persever- \nance. But the General, seeing them in need \nof support, advanced part of the Maryland \nregiments of Griflith and Richardson, together \nwith some detachments from such eastern \ncorps as chanced to be most contiguous to \nthe place of action. Our troops this day, with- \nout exception, behaved with the greatest in- \ntrepidity. So bravely did they repulse the \nBritish, that Sir William Howe moved his \nreserve^ with two field pieces, a battalion of \nHessian grenadiers, and a company of Chas- \nseurs, to succour his retreating troops. Gene- \nIral Washington, not willing to draw on a \n\n* Migor Leitob^ after laoguiahing some dajs, died of a locked \n\n\n\n124 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\ngeneral action, declined pressing the pursuit* \nIn this engagement were the second and third \nbattalions of light infantry, the forty-second \nBritish regiment, and the German Chasseurs, \nof whom eight ofl5cers,and upwards of seventy \nprivates were wounded, and our people buried \nnearly twenty, who were left dead on the field. \nWe had about .forty wounded : our loss in \nkilled, except of two valuable officers, was very \ninconsiderable. \n\nAn advantage,* so trivial in itself, produced, \nin event, a surprising and almost incredible ef- \nfect upon the whole army. Amongst the troops \nnot engaged, who, during the action, were \nthrowing earth from the new trenches, with \nan alacrity that indicated a determination to \ndefend them, every visage was seen to bright- \n\n• A transcript from General Washington's Public Orders ofthe \nseventeenth will, better than any other document that ooald be \nadduced, show his sentiment on the conduct of the two preceding \ndajs, and how fervently he wished to foster the good dispositious \ndiflcorered oa the last. \n\n« ORDERS. \n\n\"ffead^QuartertyHarliiem Heights^ September 17, t77&k \n\n\"Parole, Leitck, Countersign, Virginia. \n\n•'The General most heartily thanks the troops commanded ycs-^ \nterday by Major Leiteh, who first advanced upon the enemy^'and \nthe others who so resolutely supported them. The behaviour yes- \nterday was such a contrast to that 5af some of the troops the day \nbefore, as must show what may be done, where. officers and soldiers \nwill exeri> themselves Once more, therefore, the General calls \nupon officers and men, to act up to the noble cause in which they \nare engaged, and to support the honour and liberties of their coun- \ntry. \n\n** The gallant and brave Colonel Knowlton, who would have beeo \nan honour to any country, having fallen yesterday, while gloriously \nfi^btine. Captain Brown is to take the command ofthe party late- \nly led by Colonel KaowUoo. Officers and men. are to obey him \naccordingly.\" \n\n\n\nXIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* 125 \n\n> \n\nen, and to assume, instead of the gloom of \ndespair, the glow of animation. This change^ \nno less sudden than happy^ left little room to \ndoubt that the men, who ran the day before \nat the sight of an enemy, would now, to wipe \naway the stain of that disgrace, and to recover \nthe confidence of their General, have conduct- \ned themselves in, a very different manner. \nSome alteration was made in the distribution \nof corps to prevent the British from gaining \neither flank m the succeeding ni^ht. General \nPutnam, who commanded on me right, was \ndirected in orders, in case the enemy should \nattempt to force the pass, to apply for a rein- \nforoement to General Spencer, who command-* \ned on the left. \n\nGeneral Putnam, who was too good an. \nhusbandman huuself not to have a respect \nfor the labours and improvements of others, \nstrenuously seconded the views of the Com- \nmander in Chief in preventing the devastation \nof farms, and the violation of private property. \nFor under pretext that the property in this \nquarter belonged to friends to the British gov- \nernment, as indeed it mostly did, a spirit of' \nrapme and licentiousness began to prevail, \nwnich, unless repressed in the beginning, fore- \nboded, besides the subversion of discipline, the \ndisgrace and defeat of our arms. \n\nOur new defences now becoming sp strong \nas not to admit insult with impunity, and Sir \nWilliam Howe, not choosing to place too mUch \n\n\n\n126^ LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nat risk in attacking us in front, on the 12th \nday of October, leaving Lord Percy with one \nHessian and two British brigades, in his lines^ \nat Harlaem, to cover Jlew-York, embarked \nwith the main body of his army, with an in- \ntention of landing at Frog's jSTeck, situated \nnear the town of West-Uhester, and little \nmore than a league above the communication \ncalled King's-bridge, which connects New- \nYork Island with the main. There was no- \nthing to oppose him ; and he effected his de- \nbarkation by nine o'clock in the n>orning. \nThe same policy of keeping our army as com- \n\nEact as possible ; the same system ot avoiding \neing forced to action ; and the same precau- \ntion to prevent the interruption of supplies, \nreinforcements or retreat, that lately dictated \nthe evacuation of New- York, now induced \nGeneral Washington to move towards the \nstrong grounds in the upper part of West- \nChester county. \n\nAbout the same time General Putnam wai \nsent to the western side of the Hudson, to \nprovide against an irruption into the Jerseys, \nand soon after to Philadelphia, to put that \ntown into a posture of defence.* Thither I \n\n• From the preceding paragraph it would seem that General \nPutnam was detached, first to New-Jersey, and soon afterwards to \nPhiladelphitt, immediately after the movement of the British army \nto Frog's neck. The truth is, he was with the army at White- \nPlains, and Had part in the action fought there the 28th of October. \nIt was the position of Brigadier-General M'Dougal which was at- \ntacked, and Washington ordered a detachment oif the army under \nMajor-Genieral Putnam to support him. Some days after this ac* \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 127 \n\nattend him, without stooping to dilate on the \nsubsequent incidents, that might swell a folio, \nthough here compressed to a single para- \ngraph ; without attempting to give in detail \nthe skilful retrograde movements of our Com- \nmander in Chief, who, after detaching a garri- \nson for Fort Washington, by pre-occupying \nwith extemporaneous redoubts and entrench- \nments, the ridges from Mile-Square to White' \nPlains^ and by folding one brigade behind \nanother, in rear of those ridges that run paral- \nlel with the Sound J brought off all his artillery, \nstores, and sick, in the facp of a superior foe; \nwithout commenting on the partial and equivo- \ncal battle fought near the last mentioned vil- \nlage, or the cause why the British, then in full \nforce, (for the last of the Hessian infantry and \nffritish light-horse had just arrived) did not \nmore seriously endeavour to induce a general \nengagement; without journalizing their milita- \nry manoeuvres in falling back to King's- bridge, \ncapturing Fort Washington, Fort Lee, and \nmarching through the Jerseys ; without enu- \nmerating the instances of rapine, murder, lust, \nand devastation, that marked their progress, \n\n\n\ntion. General Putnam was ordered to cross the Hudson, and pro« \nyide against an irruption of the enemy into New-Jersey. He was \nsoon followed by Washington with part of his army, which took \npost in the vicinity of Fort Lee, and, after the fall of that Fort, \nGeneral Putnam was constantly about his person during the whole \nretreat through New-J'ersey, and among the last of the fugitive ar- \nmy which crossed the Delaware : — then it was, that he was ordered \nto Philadelphia to fortify and defend that city, which (^ongress had \nordered to be defended to the last extreinitjr* C Editor, J \n\n\n\n128 LIFE OF GENERAL PVTI^AM. ^ \n\nand filled our bosoms with horror and indigna- \ntion ; without describing how a division of our \ndissolving army, with General Washington, \nwas driven before them beyond the Delaware; \nwithout painting the naked and forlorn condi- \ntion of these much injured men, amidst the \nrigours of an inclement season ; and without \neven skelching the consternation that seized \nthe States at tnis perilous period, when Gene- \nral Lee, in leading from the north a small \nreinforcement to our troops, was himself tat \nen prisoner by surprise; when every thing \nseemed decidedly declining to the last extremi- \nty, and when every prospect but served to \naugment the depression of despair — until the \ngenius of one man, in one day, at a single \nstroke, wrested from the veteran battalions of \nBritain and Germany the fruits acquired by \nthe total operations of a successful campaign^ \nand re-animated the expiring hope of a whole \nnation, by the glorious enterprize at Trenton. \nWhile the hostile forces, I'ashly inflated \nwith pride by a series of uninterrupted suc- \ncesses, and fondly dreaming that a period \nwould soon be put to their labours, oy the \ncompletion of their conquests, had been pur- \nsuing the wretched remnants of a disbanded \narmy to the banks of the Delaware, Genewl \nPutnam was diligently employed in fortifying \nPhiladelphia, the capture of which appeare( \nindubitably to be their principal object. Here, \nby authonty and example, he strove to concili* \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 129 \n\nate contending factions, and to excite the citi- \nzens to uncoiuman efforts in defence of every \nthing interesting to freemen. His personal \nindustry was unparalleled. His orders,^ with \nrespect to extinguishing accidental fires, ad- \nvancing the public worKs, as well as in regard \nto other important objects, were perfectly mili- \ntary and proper. But his health was, for a \nwhile, impaired by his unrelaxed exertions. \n\nThe Commander in Chief having, in spite of \nall obstacles, made good his retreat over the \nDelaware, wrote to General Putnaim'from his \nCamp above the Falls of Trenton, on the very \nday he re-crossed the river to surprise the \nHessians, expressing his satisfaction at the re-* \nestablishment of that GeneraFs health, and in- \nforming, that if he had not himself been well \nconvinced before of the enemy's intention to \npossess themselves of Philadelphia, as soon as \nthe frost should form ice strong enough to \n\n• Af a specimen, the following is preserved : \n\n\" GENERAL ORDERS. \n\n\"Bead-^luartertt Philadelphia, December 14, 1776. \n\n\"Colonel Griffin is appointed Adjutant-Geoeral to the troops in \nand about- this eity All orders from the General, throng him, \neither written or verbal, are to be strictly attended to and punc< \ntaally obeyed. \n\n<* In case of an alarm of fire, the city guards and patroles are to \nsuffer the iuhabitanU to pass, unmolested, at any hour of the night; \nand^ the good people of Philadelphia are earnestly requested and \ndesired to give every assistance in their power, with engines and \nbuckets* to exiitiguisli the fire. And as the Coneress have ordered \nthe city to be defended to the last extremity, the General hopes \nthat no person will refuse to give every assistance possible to com- \nplete the fortifications that are to be erected iu and about the city, \n\n\"ISRAEL PUTNAM.** . \n\n12 t \n\n\n\n130 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAH. \n\ntransport them and their artillery across the \nDelaware, he had now obtained an intercepted \nletter which placed the matter beyond a doubt \nHe added, that if the citizens of Philadelphia \nhad any regard for the town, not a moment^s \ntime was to be lost until it should be put in \nthe best possible posture of defence; but least \nthat should not be done, he directed the re* \nmoyal of all public stores, except provisions \nnecessary for immediate use, to places of \ngreater security. He queried whether, if a \nparty of militia could be sent from Philadel- \nphia to support those in the Jerseys, about \nMount^Hoily, it would not serve to save them \nfrom submission ? At the same time he signifi- \ned, as his opinion, the expediency of sending \nan active and influential officer to inspirit the \npeople, to encourage them to assemble in \narms, as well as to keep those already in arms \nfrom disbanding ; and concluded by manifest-* \ning a wish that Colonel Forman, whom he \ndesired to see for this purpose, might be em- \nployed on the service. \n\nThe enemy had vainly, as incautiously, im- \nagined that to overrun was to conquer. They \nnad even carried their presumption on our ex- \ntreme weakness, and expected submission so \nfar as to attempt covering the country through \nwhich they had marched with an extensive \nchain of cantonments. That link, which the \npost at Trenton supplied, consisted of a Hes- \nsian brigade of infantry, a company of Chas- \n\n\n\nUPB OF OENBRAX PUTKAM. 131 \n\nseuFS, a squadron of light dragoons, and six \nfield pieces. At ei^ht o'clock in the morning \nof the twenty-sixtn of December, Gttneral \nWashington, with twenty-four hundred men^ \ncame upon them, after they had paraded, took \none thousand prisoners, and re-passed the same \nday, without loss, to his encampment. As \nsoon as the troops were recoverecl from their \nexcessive fatigue. General Washington re- \ncrossed a second time to Trenton. On the \nsecond of January, Lord Cornwallis, with the \nbulk of the British army, advanced upon himy \ncannonaded his post, and offered him battle ; \nbut the two armies being separated by the in* \nterposition of Trenton Creek, General Wash- \nington had it in his option to decline an en- \ngagement, which he did for the sake of strik- \ning the masterly stroke that he then meditated. \nIrving kindled frequent fires around his camp, \nposted faithful men to keep them burning, and \nadvanced sentinels, whose fidelity might be \nrelied upon, he decamped silently after dark, \nand, by a circuitous route, reached Princeton \nat nine o^clock the next morning. The noise \nof the firing, by which he killed and captured \nbetween five and six hundred of the British \nbrigade in that town, was the first notice Lord \nCornwallis had of this stolen march. Gene- \nral Washington, the project successfully ac- \ncomplished, instantly filed off for the moun* \ntainous grounds of Morris- To wa. Meanwhile, \nhis Lordship, who arrived, by a forced march, \n\n\n\n132 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nat Princeton, just as he had left it, finding the \nAmericans could not be overtaken, proceeded, \nwithout halting, to Brunswick. . \n\nOn the fifth of January, 1777, from Pluck- \nemin, General Washington despatched an ac- \ncount of this second success to General Put- \nnam, and ordered him to move immediately, \nwith all his troops, to Croswick's, for the pur* \npose of co*operating in recovering the Jerseys; \nan event which the present fortunate -juncture, \nwhile the enemy were yet panic-struck, ap- \npeared to promise. The General cautioned \nhim, however, If the enemy should still con- \ntinue at Brunswick, to guard wJth great cir- \ncumspection against a surprise ; especially as \nthey, having recently suffered by two attacks, \ncould scarcely avoid being edged with resent* \nment to attempt retaliation. His Excellency \nfarther advised him to give out his strength to \nbe twice as great as it was ; to forward on all \nthe ba^ffage and scattering men belonging to \nthe division destined for Morris-Town; to em- \nploy as many spies as he should think proper; \nto Keep a number of horsemen, in the dress of \nthe country, going constantly backwards and \nforwards on the same secret service; and, \nlastly, if he should discover any intention or \nmoti9n of the enemy that could be depended \nupon, and might be of consequence, not to \nfail in conveying the intelligence, as rapidly \nas possible by express, to Head-Quai ters. \nJMajor-General Putnam was directed soon af- \n\n\n\nLire or GENERAL PUTNAM. 133 \n\nter to take post at Princeton, were he contin* \nued until the spring. He had never with him \nmore than a few hundred troops, though he \nwas only at fifteen miles distant from the ene- \nmj^s strong garrison of Brunswick. At one \n\nEeriod, from a sudden diminution, occasioned \ny the tardiness of the militia turning out to \nreplace those whose time of service was ex- \npired, he had fewer men for duty than he had \nmiles of frontier to guard. Nor was the Com* \nmander in Chief in a more eligible situation. \nIt is true, that while he had scarcely the sem- \nblance of an army, under the specious parade \nof a park of artillery, and the imposing ap- \npearance of his Head-Quarters, established at \nMorris-Town, he kept up, in the eyes of his \ncountrymen, as well as m the opinion of his \nenemy, the appearance of no conteinptible \nforce. Future generations will find difficulty \nin conceiving how a handful of new-levied men \nand militia, who were necessitated to be in- \noculated for the small-pox in the course of the \nwinter, could be subdivided and posted so ad- \nvantageously, as cflfectually to protect the in- \nhabitants, confine the enemy, curtail their \nforage, and beat up their quarters, without \nsustaining a single disaster. \n\nIn the battle of Princeton, Captain M'Pher- \nson, of the 17th British regiment, a very wor- \nthy Scotchman, was desperately wounded in \nthe kings, and left with tne dead. Upon Gen- \neral Putnam's arrivjal there, he found him laB-> \n\n12* \n\n\n\n134 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nguishing in extreme distress, without a sur- \ngeoD, without a single accommodation, and \nwithout a friend to solace the sinking spiiit in \nthe gloomy hour of death. He visited, and \nimmediately caused every possible comfort to \nbe administered to him* Captain MTherson, \nwho, contrary to all appearances, recovered, \nafter having demonstrated to General Putnam \nthe dignified sense of obligations which a gen- \nerous mind wishes not to conceal, one day, in \nfamiliar conversation, demanded, ^^Pray, Sir, \nwhat countryman are you?\"—'* An American,'* \nanswered the latter. — *' Not a Yankee ?'' said \nthe other. — ^^ A full blooded one,\" replied the \nGeneral. ** By G — d, I am sorry for that,\" re- \njoined MThersoD, ** 1 did not think there could \ni>e so much goodness and generosity in an \nAmerican^ or, indeed, ia any body but a \nScotchman.\" / \n\nI While the recovery of Captain M'Pherson \nwaa doubtful, hp desired that General Putnam \nwould permit a friend in the British army at \nBrunswick to come and assist him in making \nHIS WILL. General Putnam, who had then \nonly fifty men in his whole command, was \nsadly embarrassed by the proposition. On \nthe one hand, he was not content that a Brit*- \nish officer should have an opportunity to spy \nout the weakjiess of his post ; on the other, it \nwas scarcely in his nature to refuse complying \nwith a dictate of humanity. He luckily be- \nthought himself of an expedient which he has*' \n\n\n\nLIFE or GENERAL PUTNAM. 135 \n\ntened to put. in practice. A flag of truce waa \ndespatched with Captain M'Pherson's request, \nbut under an injunction not to return with his \nfriend untii after dark. In the evening lights \nwere placed in all the rooms of the College, \nand in every apartment of the vacant houses \nthroughout the town. During the whole \nnight, the fifty men, sometimes altogether, \nand sometimes in small detachments, %ere \nmarched from different quarters by the house \nin vf^hich MThierson lay. Afterwards it was \nknoivn that the officer who came on the visit, \nat his return, reported that General Putnam^s \narmy, upon the most moderate calculation, \ncould not consist of less than four or five \nthousand men. \n\nThis winter's campaign, for our troops con- \nstantly kept the field after regaining a footing \nin the Jerseys, has never yet been faithfully \nand feelingly described. The sudden resto- \nration of our cause from thfr very verge oC ruin \nwas interwoven with such a tissue of inscru- \ntable causes and extraordinary events, that, \nfearful of doing the subject greater injustice, \nby a passing disquisition than a purposed si- \nlence, I leave it to the leisure of abler pens. \nThe ill policy of the British doubtless contrib- \nuted to accelerate this event. For the man- \nner, impolitic as inhuman, in which Jthey man- \naged tneir temporary conquests, tended evh* \ndently to alienate the affections of their ad- \nHerents, to confirai the wavering in an opposite \n\n\n\n136 l^IFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* \n\ninterest, to rouse the supine into activity, t0 \nassemble the dispersed to the standard of \nAmerica, and to mfuse a spirit of revolt into \nthe minds of those men \\vho had, from neces- \nsity, submitted to their power. Their conduct \nin warring with fire and sword against the \nimbecility of youth, and the decrepitude of \nage ; against the arts, the sciences, the curious \ninvAtions, and the elegant improvements in \ncivilized life; against tne melancholy widow, \nthe miserable orphan, the peaceable professor \nof humane literature, and the sacred minister \nof the gospel, seemed to operate as powerful- \nly, as it purposely intended to kindle the dor- \nmant spark of resistance into an inextinguish- \nable flame. If we add to the black catalogue \nof provocations already enumerated their in- \nsatiable rapacity in plundering friends and foes \nindiscriminately ; their libidmous brutality in \nviolating the chastity of the female sex ; their \nmor^ than Gothic rage in defacing private \nwritings, public recoros^ libraries of learning, \ndwellings of individuals; edifices for education, \nand temples of the Deity; together with their \ninsuflerable ferocity, unprecedented indeed \namong civilized nations, m murdering on the \nfield of battle the wounded while begging for \nmercy, in causing their prisoners to famish \nwith hunger and cold in prisons and prison \nahips, and in carrying their malice beyond \ndeath itself, by denymg the decent rites of \nsepulture to the dead ; we shall not be as ton- \n\n\n\n. Llt*E OF OENERAt PUTNAM. 137 \n\nished that the yeomanry in the two Jerseys, \nwhen the first glimmering of hope began to \nbreak Jn upon them, rose as one man, with the \nunalterable resolution to perish in the generous \ncause, or expel their merciless invaders. \n\nThe principal officers, stationed at a variety \nof well-chosen, and at some almost inaccessi- \nble positions, seemed all to be actuated by the \nsame soul, and only to vie with each other in \ngiving proofs of vigilance, enterprise and val- \nour. From what has been said respecting the \nscantiness of our aggregate force, it will be \nconcluded, that the number of men, under the \norders of each, was indeed very small. But \nthe uncommon alertness of the troops, who \nwere incessantly hovering round the enemy in \nscouts, and the constant communication tney \nkept between the several stations most con- \ntiguous to each other, agreeably to the in-^ \nstructions* of the General in Chief, together \n\n* The annexed private orden to Lord Stirling will show, io • \nlaconic and military manner, the system of service then pursued : \n\n« To Brigadier-General Lord Stirling. \n\n«• My Lord, \n\n\" Tou 'are to repair to Baskenridge, and take upon you the eom« \ntfiand of the troops now there, and such as may be sent to your \ncare. \n\n*' You are to endeavour, as much as possible, to harass and an- \nnoy the enemy, by keeping scouting parties constantly, or as fre- \nquently as possible, around their quarters. \n\n<* As you will be in the neighbourhood of Generals Dickenson \natid Warner, I recommend it to you to keep up a correspondence \nwith them, and endeavour to regulate your parties by theirs, so as \nto have some constantly out. \n\n♦• Use every means in your power to obtain intelligence from the \nenemy ; which may possibly be better effected by engaging some \n\n\n\n138 JUIFB OF QENBRAL PUTNAM. . \n\nwith their readiness in giving, mid confidence \nof receiving such reciprocal aid as the exigen- \ncies might require, served to supply the defect \nof force. \n\nThis manner of doing duty not only put our \nown posts beyond the reach of sudden insult \nand surprise, but so exceedingly harassed and \nintimidated the enemy, that foragers were sel- \ndom sent out by them, and never except in \nvery large parties. General Dickenson, who \ncommandea on General Putnam's left, discov* \nered, about the 20th of January, a foraging \nparty, consisting of about four hundred men, \non the opposite side of the MiU-stone^ two \nmiles from Somerset court-house. As the \nbridge was possessed and defended by three \nfield-pieces, so that it could not be passed, \nGeneral Dickenson, at the head of four hun- \ndred militia, broke the ice, crossed the river \nwhere the water was about three feet deep, \nresolutely attacked, and totally defeated the \nforagers. Upon their abandonmg the convoy, \na few prisoners, forty waggons, and more than \na hundred draft horses, with a considerable \nbooty of cattle and sheep, fell into his hands. \n\n\n\nof those people who have ohtained Protections to go in, undor pre- \ntence of asking advice, than by any other means. \n\n\" You will also use every means in your power to obtain and \ncommunicate the earliest accounts of the enemT''s movements; \nand to assemble, in the speediest manner possible, your troops \neither for offence or defence. \n\n\" Given at Head' Quarters, the fourth day of February, 1777. \n\n\" GEO. WASHINGTON'' \n\n\n\nUFB OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 139 \n\nNor were our operatioDs on General Put- \nnam^s right flank less fortunate. To give \ncountenance to the numerous friends of tiie \nBritish govemifient in the county of Mon- \nmouth appears to have been a principal motive \nwith Sir William Howe for stretching the \nchain of his cantonments, bj his own confes- \nsion,^ previously to his disaster, rather too \nfar. After that chain became broken, as I \nhave already related, by the blows at Trenton \nand Princeton^, he was obliged to collect, dur- \ning the rest of the winter, the useless remains \nin his barracks at Brunswick. In the mean- \ntime, General Putnam was much more suc- \ncessful in his attempts to protect our dispersed \nand dispirited friends in the same district; \nwho, environed on every side by envenomed \nadversaries, remained inseparably rivetted in \naffection to American independence. He first \ndetached Colonel Gumey, and afterwards Ma- \n\n• Extract of a letter from General Sir William Howe to \nJLord Gborob Gbbmaine, dated JSTew'Tort, December' 90» \n1776. \n\nHaving roentioDed the fruitiest attempt of Lord Coni^vallis to \nfind iKMits at Corryel*t ferry to pats the Delaware— he proceeds \n\nthus: \n\n« The pattase of the Delaware being thot rendered impraetiea- \nblcy his Lordthip took pott at Pennin|^on> in whieh plaee and \nTrenton the two divisiont remained unlil the fourteenth, when the \n■weather having become too tevere to keep the field, and the win* \nter cantonmentt beinp^ arranged, the troopt marehed frofn both \nplacet to their respective stations. The chain^ I onvn^ to rather too \nextensive, but I wat induced to occupy Barlin&^on to cover the \neounty of Monmouth, in which there are many loyal inhabitants ; \nand trusting to the almost general tubroittion of the country to the \nsouthward of thit chain* and to the ttrength of the corpt placed in \nthe advanced posts, I conclude the troops will be in perfect seed* \nrity.** • \n\n\n\n140 UFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\njor Davis,'^ with such parties of militta as \ncould be spared, for their support. Several \nskirmishes ensued, in which our people had al- \nways the advantage. They took, at different \ntimes, many prisoners, horses and waggons \nfrom foraging parties. In effect, so well did \nthey cover the country, as to induce some of \nthe most respectable inhabitants to declare, \nthat the security of the persons, as well as the \nsalvation of the property of many friends to \nfreedom was owmg to the spirited exertions of \nthese two detachments; who, at the same \ntime that they rescued the country from the \ntyranny of tories, afforded an opportunity for \nthe militia to recover from their consternation, \nto embody themselves in warlike array, and to \nstand on their defence. \n\nDuring this period^ General Putnam having \nreceived unquestionable intelligence that a \nparty of refugees, in British pay, had taken \n\nEost, and were erecting a kind of redoubt at \nlawrenceV Neck, sent Colonel Nelson, with \n\n* As there happened to be In my possession a copy of one of his \nletters to those officers, it was thought worthy of insertion here, in \norder to demonstrate his satisfaction with tlieir conduct. \n\n« \n\n« To Major John Davis, of the third Battalion of Camberlaod \n\n\" County Militia. \n•• Sir, \n** I am much obliged to you for your activity, vigour, and dili- \ngence since you have been under my command ; you will, therefore, \nmarch vour men to Philadelphia, and there discharge them ; re- \nturning into the store all the ammunition, arms and accoatremenU \nyou received at that place. \n\n, \" I am. Sir, your humble servant, \n\n« ISRAEL PUTNAM. \n\" JPrinceton, February 5, 1777.\" \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GEKERAL PUTNARf. ; 141 \n\none hundred and fifty militia, to surprise them. \nThat officer conducted with so much secrecy \nand decision as to take the whole prisoners. \nThese refugees* were commanded by Major \nStockton^ belonging to Skinner's brigade, and \namcKinted to sixty m number. \n\nA short time after this event Lord Corn- \nivallis sent out another foraging party towards \nBound-Brook. General Putnam, having re- \nceived notice from his emissaries, detached \nMajor Smith, with a few riflemen, to annoy \nthe party, and followed himself with the rest \nof his force^ Before he could come up, Major \nSmith, who had formed an ambush, attacked \nthe enemy, killed several horses, took a few \nprisoners and sixteen baggage-waggons, with- \nout sustaining any injury. By such opera- \ntions, our hero, in the course of the wmter, \ncaptured nearly a thousand prisoners. \n\nIn the latter part of February General \nWashington advised General Putnam, that, in \nconsequence of a large accession of strength \nfrom iVew-York to the British army at Bruns- \nwick, it was to be apprehended they would \nsoon make a forward movement towards the \n\n• Extract of a letter from General Putnam to tlie Council of \nSafety of Pennst/lvania, dated at Ptinceton. Febi-uan/ 18, \n1777. ^ \n\n\"Yesterday eveninff Colonel NelsOo, i^ith a hundred and, fifty \nmen, at Lawrence's Neck, attacked sixty men of Coi^tiandt Skin- \nner's Bri^de, commanded by the enemy's rcnow:«ed La^io \nPilot Major Richard Stockton^ routed them, and took the \n▼hole prisoners— among them the Major, a Captain and three snb* \nalterns, with seventy stand of arms. Fiftv of the Bedford Peun.\" \nBtflvania Riflemen behaved like veterans. \n\n13 \n\n\n\n142 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nDelaware : in which case the latter was <iirect* \n^d to cross the river with his actiial force, to \nassume the command of the militia who sii^t \nassemble^ to secure the boats on the west side \nof the Delaware, and to facilitate the passage \nof the rest of the army. But the enemy cm \nnot remove from their winter^quarters antil \nthe season arrived when green forage could \nbe supplied. In the intermediate period, the \nCorrespondence on the part of General Putnam \nwith the Commander in Chief consisted pria« \ndpally of reports and enquiries concerning the \ntreatment oi some of the following descriptions \nof persons : either of those who came within \nour lines with flags and pretended flags, or \nwho had taken protection from the enemy, or \nwho had been reputed disaflected to our cause, \nor who were designed to be comprehended in \nthe American Proclamation, wmch required \nihat those who had taken protections snould \ngive them to the nearest American oflicer, or \n[o within the British lipes. The letters of his \nIxcelkncy in return, generaHy advisory, were \nindicative of confidence and approbation. \n\nWhen thb spring had now so far advanced \nthat it was oDvious the enemy would soon \ntake the field, the Commander in Chief, after \ndesiring General Putnam to give the officer \nwho was to relieve him at Prmcelon, all the \ninformation necessary for the conduct of that \npost, appointed that General to the command \nof a separate army in the Highlands of New- \nYork. \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. )4^ \n\nIt IS scarcely decldedt from any documeuta \nyet published, whether the preposterous plans \nprosecuted by the British Generals in the cam* \npaign of J 777, were altogether the result of \ntheir orders from home, or whether theylpart- \nly originated from* the contiiigences of the mo* \nment. The system which, at the time, tended \nto puzzle all human conjecture, when devel* \noped, served also to contradict all reasonably \ncalculation. Certain it is, the American^ Com* \nmander in Chief was, for a considerable, time, \nso perplexed with contradictory appearances^ \nthat b« knew not how to distribute nis troQps, \nwith hi& usual discernment, so as to oppose \nthe enemy with eaual prospect of success in \ndifferent parts. The gathering tempests me-^ \nnaced the northern frontiers, the posts in the \nHighlands, and the city of Philadelphia; but \nit was still doubtful where the fury oi the storm \nwould fall. At one time Sir William Howe \nwas forcing his way by land to Philadelphia ; \nat another, relinquishing the Jerseys; at ^ \nthird, facing round to make a sudden inroad ; \nthen embarking with all the forces that could \nbe spared from New- York; and then putting \nout to sea, at the very moment when ueneral \nBurgoyne liad reduced Ticonderoga,andseem« \ned to require a co-operatioQ in another quarr \nter. \n\nOn our side, we have seen that the old Con- \ntinental army expired with the year 1776; \nfirince which, invention had been tortured with^ \n\n\n\n144 LIFE OP GENERAL FUTICAM. \n\nexpedients, and zeal with ^efforts to lery an- \nother:* for on the success of the recruiting \nservice de|)ended the salvation of the country* \nThe success was such as not to puff us up to \npresumption, or depress us to despair. The \narmy in the Jerseys, under the orders of the \nGeneral in Chief, consisted of all the troops \nraised south of the Hudson ; that in the nortn- \nern department, of the New-Hampshire brig- \nade, two brigades of Massachusetts, and the \nbrigade of New- York, together with some ir- \nregular corps ; and that m the Highlands, of \ntho^ remaining two brigades of Massachusetts, \nthe Connecticut line, consisting of two brigadesi \nthe brigade of Rhode-Island, and cne regiment \nof New- York. Upon hearing of the Toss of \nTiconderoga, and the progress of the British \ntowards Albany, General Washington ordered \nthe northern army to be reinforced with the \ntwo brigades of Massachusetts, then in the \nHighlands; and, upon finding the army under \nhis immediate command out-numbered by that \nof Sir William Howe, which had, by the cir- \ncuitous route of tlie Chesapeak, invaded Penn- \nsylvania, he also called from the Highlands \none of the Connecticut brigades, and that of \nHUode-Island to his own assistance. \n\n(n the neighbourhood of General Putnam \nthere was no enemy capable of exciting alarms, \nnie army left at New- York seemed oply de- \nsigned for its defence. In it were several en- \ntire corps, composed of toVies, who had flock- \n\n\n\nJUIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAIL 145 \n\ned to the British standard. There was, besides, \na band of lurking; miscreants, not properly en- \nrolled, who staid chiefly at We&t-Chester j \nfrom whence they infested the country ber \ntween the two armies, pillaged the cattle, and \ncarried off the peaceable irmabitants. It was \nan unworthy policy in British generals to \npatronize banditti. Ihe whi^ inhabitants on \nthe edge of our lines, and sliU lower down, \nwho had been plundered in a merciless mauf \nner, delayed not to strip the tories in retun^ \nPeople most nearly connected and allied fre^ \nquently became most exasperated and inveter \nrate in malice. Then the ties of fellowship \nwere broken— then friendship itself being \nsoured to enmity, the mind readily gave way \nto private revenge, uncontrolled retaliation, \nandf all the deforming passions that disgrace \nhumanity. Enormities, almost without a name, \nwere perpetrated, at the description of which, \nthe bosom, not frozen to apathy, must glow \nwith a mixture of pity and indignation. To \nprevent the predatory incursions from below, \n^nd to cover the. county of West-Chester, Genr \neral Putnaip detach^ From his Head-Quarters, \nat PeekVKill, Meigs's regiment, which, in the \nQoqrse of the campaign, struclf several parti- \nzan.^trokes, and acnieved the objects for which \nIt Was sent. He likewise took measures, with- \nout noise or ostentation, to secure himself from \nbeing surprised and carried within the British \nlines Jl;>y tne tories^ who had formed a plan for \n\n13* . \n\n\n\nIi6 LIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM^ \n\nthe purpose. The information of this intend- \ned enterprise, conveyed to him through several \nfchannels, was corroborated by that obtained \njand transmitted by the Commander in Chief. \n\nIt was not wonderful that many of these to- \nnes were able, undiscovered, to penetrate far \ninto the country, and even to go with letters \nor messages from one British army to another \nThe inhabitants who were well affected to the \nroyal cause, afforded them every possible sup- \nport, and their own knowledge of the different \nroutes gave them a farther facility in perform- \ning their perigrinations. Sometimes the most \nactive loyalists, as the tories wished to denom- \ninate themselves, who had gone into the Brit- \nish posts, and received promises of commissions \nupon enlisting a certain tiumber of soldiers, \ncame back again secretly with recruiting in- \nstructions. ISometimes these, and others who \ncame from the enemy within the verge of our \ncamps, were detected and condemned to death, \nin conformity to the usages of war. But the \nBritish generals, who had an unlimited supply \nof money at their command, were able to pay \nwith so much liberality^ that emissaries could \nalways be found. Still, it is thought that the \nintelligence of the American commanders was, \nat least, equally accurate ; notwithstanding the \npoverty of their military c^st, and the inabil- \nty of rewarding mercenary agents, for secret \nservices, in proportion to their risk and merit \n\nA person, by the name of Palmer, who was \na lieutenant in the tory new levies, was de** \n\n\n\ntIFE OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 147 \n\ntected in the camp at Peek's Kill. Governor \nTryon, who commanded the new levies, re- \nclaimed him as a British officer, represented \nthe heinous crime of condemning a man com- \nmissioned by his Majesty, and threatened ven- \ngeance in case he should be executed. Gene- \nral Putnam wrote the following pithy reply. \n\n'^ Sir, \n\" Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your King's \nservice, was taken in my camp as a Spy — he \nwas tried as a Spy — he was condemned as a \nSpy — and you may rest assured, Sir, he shall \nbe hanged as a SJpy.\" \n\n'* I have the honour to be, &c. \n\n\" Israel Putnam. \n** His Excellency Governor Tryon. \n\n\" P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged.'' \n\nImportant transactions soon occurred. Not \nlong after the two brigades had marched from \nPeek's-Kill to Pennsylvania, a reinforcement \narrived at New- York from Europe. Appear- \nances indicated that offensive operations would \nfollow. General Putnam havmg been reduc- \ned in force to a single brigade in the field, and \na single regiment in garrison at Fort Mont- \ngomery, repeatedly informed the Commander \nin Chief, that the posts committed to his charge \nmust, in all probability, be lost, in case an at* \ntempt should be made upon themj and that, \ncircumstanced as he was, he could not be res- \n\n\n\n148 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAA& \n\nponsible for the consequences. His situatioc^ \nwas certainly to be lamented ; but it was not \nin the power of the Commander in Chief to \nalter it^ except bj authorising him to call upon \nthe militia for aid-^an aid always precarious, \nand often so tardy, as, when obtained, to be of \nno utility. \n\nOn the fifth of October Sir Henry Clinton \ncame up the North-River with three thousand \nmen. After making many feints to mislead \nthe attention, he landed, the next morning, at \nStony-Point, and commenced his march over \nthe mountains to Fort Montgomery. Gover- \nnor Clinton, an active, resolute, and intelligent \nofficer, who commanded the garrison, upon \nbeing apprised of the movement,^ despatched a \nletter, by express, to General Putnam for suc- \ncour. By the treachery of the messenger, \nthe letter miscarried. General Putnam, as- \ntonished at hearing nothing respecting ihe \nenemy, rode, with General Parsons, ancT Col* \none! Root, his Adjutant-General, to reconnoi- \ntre them at King's Ferry. In the mean-time, \n^t five o'clock m the afternoon. Sir Henry \nClinton's colun^ns, having surmounted the od- \nstacles and barriers of nature, descended from \ntlie Thunder-Hill, through thickets impassible \nbut for light troops, s^nd /^attacked the differ- \n\n• The author of these Memoirs, then Major of Brigade to the \nfirst Connecticut brigade, was alone at Hcad-Quartert vtheti tke \nfiring btegan. He hastened to Cploael Wyllys, the senior officer \nfn camp,. and advised hiih tQ despatch all the men not on duty to \nPo»t Montgomery, w|tbo<;it wai^oy f9P. ar^iev. About Sve h*inr \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 149 \n\nent redoubts. The garrison, inspired by the \nconduct of their leaders, defended the works \nwith distinguished valour. But, as the post had \nbeen designed principally to prevent the pass- \ning of ships, and as an assault in rear had not \nbeen expected, the v^orks on the land side \nwere incomplete and untenable. In the dusk \nof twilight, the British entered with their bayo- \nnets fixed. Their loss was inconsiderable. \nNor was that of the garrison great. Gover- \nnor Clinton, his brother General James Clin- \nton, Colonel Dubois, and most of the officers \nand men effected their escape under cover of \nthe thick smoke and darkness that suddenly \nprevailed. The capture of this fort by Sir \nHenry Clinton, together with the consequent \nremoval of the chains and booms that ob- \nstructed the navigation, opened a passage to \n\ndred men marched instantly nnder Colonel Mefgs ; and the author, \nwith Dr. Beardsleji a surgeon in the brigade, rode, at full speed, \nthrough a bye-path, to let the garrison know, that a reinforcement \n-vas on its march. Notwithstanding all the haste these officers \nmade to and over the river, the fort was so completely invested on \ntheir arrival, that it was impossible to enter. They went on board \ntho new frinite which lay near the fortress^ and had the misfoitune \nto be id^e, though not unconcerned spectators of the storm. They \nsaw the minutest actions distinctly when the works were carried. \nThe frigate, after receiving several platoons, slipped her^ cable^ \nand proceeded a little way up the river; but the wind and tide be- \ncoming adverse, the crew set her on fire, to prevent her falling in- \nto the hands of the enemy, whose ships were approaching.^ The \nlouring darkness of the night, the profound stillness that reigned, \nthe interrupted flashes of the flames that illuminated (he waters, \nthe long shadows of the cliffs that now and then were seen, the ex* \nplosion of the cannon which were left loaded in the ship, and the \nreverberating echo which resounded, at intervals, between the \nstupendous mountains on both sides of the river, composed an awful \nnight-piece for persons prepai'ed by th.e preceding scene, to coh,* \nVemplute subjects of horrid sublimity. \n\n\n\n150 UFB OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nI \n\nAlbaoj) and seemed to favour a junction of his \nforce with that of Geoeral Burgoyne. But, \nthe latter having been compelled to capitulate \na few days after this event, and ^reat numbers \nof militia having arrived from New-England, \nthe successful army returned to New- York ; \nyet not before a detachment from it, under the \norders of General Vaughan, had burnt the \ndefenceless town of Esopus, and several scat- \ntering buildings on the banks of the river. \n\nNotwithstanding the army in the Highlands \nhad been so much weakened, for the sake of \nstrengthening the armies in other quarters, as \nto have occasioned the loss of Fort Montgom-' \ncry, yet that loss was productive of no conse- \nquences. Our main army in Pennsylvaniat \nafter having contended with superior force in \ntwo indecisive battles, still held the enemy in \ncheck ; while the splendid success which at- \ntended our arms at the northward, gave a \nmore favourable aspect to the American af- \nfairs, at the close of this campaign, than they \nhad ever before assumed. \n\nWhen the enemy fell back to New- Fork by \nwater, we followed them a part of the way by \nland. Colonel Meigs, with a detachment from \nthe several regiments in General Parsons'j? \nbrigade, having made a forced march from \nCrompond to West-Chester, surprised and \nbroke up for a time the band of treebooters, \nof whom he brought off fifty, together with \nmany cattle and horses which they had recept- \nly stolen, \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 151 \n\nSoon after this enterprise General Putnam \nadvanced towards the British lines. As he \nbad received intelligence that small bodies of \nthe enemy were out, with orders from Gov- \nernor Tryon to bum Wright's mttb, he pre- \nvented it by detaching three parties, of one \nhundred men in each. One of tliese parties \nfell in with and captured thirty-five, and an- \nother forty of the new levies. But as he could \nnot prevent a third hostile party from burning \nthe house of Mr. Van Tassel, a noted whig \nand a committee-man, who was forced to go \nalong with them, naked and barefoot, on the \nicy ground, in a freezing night, he, for the pro- \nfessed purpose of retaliation, sent Captain Bu- \nchanan, in a whiBiIe-boat, to bum the house of \nGeneral Oliver Delancy on York-Island. Bu- \nchanan effected his object, and by this expedi- \ntion put a period, for the present, to that un- \nmeaning and wanton species of destruction. \n\nWhile General Putnam quartered at New- \nRochel, a scouting party, which had been sent \nto West-Farms, below West-Chester, sur- \nrounded the house in which Colonel James \nDelancy lodged, and, notwithstanding he crept \nunder the bed the better to be concealed, \nbrought him to Head-Quarters before morn- \ning. This officer was exchanged by the Brit- \nish General without delay, and placed at the \nhead of the cow-boys, a licentious corps of ir- \nregulars, who in the sequel, committed un- \nheard of depredations and excesses. \n\n\n\n152 I.IFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\n/ \n\nIt was distressing to see so beautiful a part \nof the country so barbarously wasted, ana of- \nten to witness some peculiar scene of female \nmisery : for most of the female inhabitants \nhad been obliged to fly within the lines pos- \nsessed by one army or the other. Near our \nquarters was an affecting instance of human vi- \ncissitude. Mr. William Sutton, of Maroneck, \nan inoffensive man, a merchant by profession, \nwho lived in a decent fashion, and whose fam- \nily had as happy prospects as almost any in \nthe country, upon some imputation of toryism, \nwent to the enemy. His wife, oppressed with \n\nfrief in the disagreeable state oi dereliction, \nid not lon^ survive. Betsey Sutton, their \neldest daugnter, was a modest and lovely \nyoung woman, of about fifteen years old, \nwhen, at the death of her mother, the care of \nfive or six younger children devolved upon \nher. She was discreet and provident beyond \nher years; but when we saw her, she looked \nto be feeble in health — broken in spirit — wan, \nmelancholy, and dejected. She said ^^ that \ntheir last cow, which furnished milk for the \nchildren, had lately been taken away — ^tfaat \nthey had frequently been plundered of their \nwearing apparel and furniture, she believed \nby both parties — that they had little more to \nlose — and that she knew not where to procure \nbread for the dear little ones, who had no fa- \nther to provide for them\"— no mother — she \nwas going to Jiaye said — but a torrent of tears \n\n\n\nXJFE OF QBIWRAt PUTKABi. 15$ \n\ncfaoaked articulation. In coining to that part \nof the country again, after some campaigns \nJhad elapsed, 1 founc| the habitation desolate, \nfind the garden overgrown with weeds. Upp \non inquiry, I learnt, that as soon as we left \nthe place, some ruffians broke into the house \nivhile she lay in bed, in the latter part of the \nnight ; and that, having been terrified by their \nrudeness, she ran,' half-naked, into a neighs \nbouring swamp, where she continued until the \nmorning — there the poor girl caught a violent \ncold, which ended in a consumption. It finish*- \n«d a life without a spot — and a career of suf- \nferings commenced and continued without a \nfault. \n\nSights of wretchedness always touched with \ncommiseration the feelings of General Putnam9 \nand prompted his generous soul to succour the \nafflicted. But the indulgence which he show- \ned, whenever it did not militate against his dur \ntj, towards the deserted and suffering families \nof the tories in the State of New-Yorkt waa \nthe cause of his becoming unpopular with no \ninconsiderable class of people m that State. \nOn the other ^ide, he haa conceived an uncon- \nquerable aversion to many of the persons who \nwere entrusted with the dispoi^l of tory-prop- \nerty, because he believed them to have been \nguilty of peculatioBs and other infamous prac- \ntices. Bat although the enmity between him \nand the sequestrators was acrimmiious as mu- \ntual^ yet he lived in habits of amity with the \n\n14 \n\n\n\n154 LITE OP GENERAL PtJTNAM. \n\nmost respectable characters in public depart* \nments, as well as in private life. \n\nHis character was also respected by the en- \nemy. He had been acquainted with many of \nthe principal officers in a former war. As \nflags frequently passed between the out-posts, \nduring his continuance on the lines, it was a \ncommon practice to forward newspapers by \nthem ; and as those printed by Rivington, the \nroyal printer in New-York, were infamous for \nthe falsehoods with which they abounded, \nGeneral Putnam once sent a packet to his old \nfriend General Robertson, with this billet: \n** Major-General Putnam presents his compli- \nments to Major-General Robertson, and sends \nhim some Anierican newspapers for his peru- \nsal — when General Robertson shall have done \nwith them, it is requested they be given to \nRivington, in order that he may print some \ntruth? \n\nLate in the year we left the lines and re- \n\nf aired to the Highlands ; for upon the loss of \n'ort Montgomery, the Commander in Chief \n<}etermined to huWd another fortification for \nthe defence of the river. His Excellency, ac- \ncordingly, wrote to General Putnam to fix up- \non the spot. After reconnoilering all the dif- \nferent places proposed, and revolving in his \nown mind their relative advantages for oflcnce \non the water and defence on the land, be fix- \ned upon West-Point, ft is no vulgar praise \nto say, that to him belongs the glory of having \n\n\n\ntIfB OP GENERAL PUTNAM. 155 \n\nchosen this rock of our military salvation. The \nposition for water-batteries, which might sweep \nthe channfil . where the river formed a right \nangle, made it the most proper of any lor \ncommanding the navigation ; while the rocky \nridges that rose in awful sublimity behind \neach other, rendered it impregnable, and even' \ninca|>able of being invested by less than twen- \nty thousand mpn. The British^ who consider- \ned tuis post as a sort of American Gibraltar,' \nnever attempted it but by the treachery of an \nAmerican officer. All the world knows that \nthis project failed, and that West-Point con- \ntinues to be the receptacle of every thing val- \nuable in military preparations to the present \nday. \n\nIn the month of .January, 1778, when a \nsnow, two feet deep, la} on^ the earthy General \nParsons's brigade went to West-Point and \nbroke ground. Want of covering for the \ntroops, together with want of tools and mate- \nrials for the works, made the prospect truly \ngloomy and discouraging. It was necessary \nthat means should be found, though our cur- \nrency was depreciated, and our treasury ex- \nhausted. The estimates and requisitions of \nColonel la Radiere, the engineer who laid out \nthe works, altogether disproportioned to our \ncircumstances, served only to put us in mind \nof our poverty, and, as it were, to satirize our \nresources. His petulent behaviour and unac* \ncoaimodating disposition added further em- \n\n\n\n156 TAPR OP OENCK AL PUTNAM. \n\nbarrasdtnente. It was then liiet the patriotisnr \nof GoverDor ClintoD sbcme iti full lu&tre. His \n^xertiovis to furnish supplies can herer be too \nmuch commended. His influence, arising from \nhis popularity, was unlimited : yet be hesitated \nnot to put all his popularity at risk, whenever \ntkke federal interests demanded. Notwiih*\" \nstanding the impediments that opposed our \nprogress, with hjs aid, before the opening of \nthe campaign, the works were in great for* \nwardness. \n\nAccording to a resolution of Congress, ad \ninquiry Was to be made into the caimes of mil* \nitary disttsteirsi Major-Generfti M^Doagalft \nBrigadier-General Huntingtonv and Cown^ \nWigglesworth composed the Court of Inquii^ \non the loss of Fort Montgomery. Upon full \nknowledge and mature deliberation of facts on \nthe spot, they reported the loss to have been \noccasioned by want of mea, and not by anrf \nfault in 4he commanders. \n\nGeneral Putnam, who during the investiga- \ntion was relieved from duty, as aocm as Con- \ngres^s had approved the report, took cotnmaod \nof the right wing of the erand army, under the \norders of the General m Chief. This was \njust after the battle of Monmouth, when the \nthree armies which had last year acted sepa- \nrately joined at the White-Plains. Our eflteo* \nlite force, in one camp, was at no other time \nso respectable as at this juncture. The army \nconsisted of sixty regular regiments of foot, \n\n\n\nLIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. 157 \n\nformed into fifteen brigades^ four battalions of \nartillery, four regiments of horse, and several \ncorps of State troops. But as the enemy kept \nclose within their lines on York Island, nothing \ncould be attempted. Towards the end of au- \ntumn we broke up the camp, and went first to \nFredericksburgh, and thence to winter-quar- \nters. \n\nIn order to cover the country adjoining to \nthe Sounds and to support the garrison of West' \nPointy in case of an attack, Major-General \nPutnam was stationed for the winter at Read- \ning, in Connecticut. He had under his orders \nthe brigade of New-Hampshire, the two brig- \nades oiConnecticut, the corps of infantry com- \nmanded by Hazen, and that of cavalry by \nSheldon. \n\nThe troops, who had been badly fed, badly \ncloathed, and worse paid, by brooding over \ntheir grievances in the leisure and inactivity of \nwinter-quarters, began to think them intolera- \nble. The Connecticut brigades formed the \ndesign of marching to Hartford, where the \nGeneral Assembly was then in session, and of \ndemanding redress at the point of the bayonet. \nWord having been brought to General Put- \nnam, that the second brigade was under arms \nfor this purpose, he mounted his horse, gallop- \nped to the cantonment, and thus addressed \nthem : \" My brave lads, whither are you go- \ning ? Do you intend to desert your officers, \nand to invite the enemy to follow you into tho \n\n14* \n\n\n\n158 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nCountry ? Whose cause have you been fighting \nand suffering so long in— hs it not your own? \nHave you no property, no parents, wives or \nchildren ? You have behaved like men so far \n— iill the world is full of your praises— and \n\nKsterity will stand astonished at your deeds : \nt not if you spdil all at last Don't you \nconsider how much the country is distressed \nby the war, and that your officers have not \nbeen any better paid than yourselves? But \nwe all expect better times, and that the coun* \ntry will do us ample justice. Let us all stand \nby one another, then, and fight it out like \nbrave soldiers. Think what a shame it would \nbe for Connecticut men to run away from their \nofficers/' After the several regiments had re- \nceived the General as he rode along the line \nivith drums beatings and presented c^rms^ the ser- \ngeants who had then the command, brought \nfne men to an order^ in which position they \ncontinued while he was speaking. When he \nbad done, he directed the acting Major of \nBrigade to give the word for them to shoul-* \nder, march to their regimental parades, and \nlodge arms; all which they executed with \npromptitude and apparent good humour. One \nsoldier, only, who had been the most active, \nwas confined in the quarter-guard ; from \nwhence, at night, he attempted to make his \nescape. But the sentinel, who had also been \nin the mutiny, shot him dead on the spot, and \nthus the afiair subsided^ \n\n\n\nUFE OF GENfiRAl/ PUTNABK.^ 159 \n\nAbout tbe middle of winter, while General \nPutnam was on a visit to his out-post at Horse- \nNeck, he found Governor Tryon advancin} \nupon that town with a corps of fifteen hundred \nmen. To oppose these General Putnam had \nonly a picquet of one hundred and fifty raeUf \nand two iron field-pieces, without horses or \ndrag-ropes. He, however, planted his cannon \nOD the high ground^ by tne meettng-house, \nand retar^d their approach by firing several \ntiraes, until, perceiving the horse (supported \nby the infantry) about to charge, he ordered \nthe picquet to provide for their safety, by re- \ntiring to a swamp inaccessible to horse, and \nsecured his own, oy plunging down the steep \nprecipice at the church upon a full trot. This \nprecipice is so steep, where he descended, as \nto have artificial stairs, composed of nearly \none hundred stone steps, for the accommoda- \ntion of foot passengers. There the Dragoons, \nwho were out a sword's length from him, \nstopped short ; for the declivity was so abrupt, \nthat they ventured not to follow ; and, before \nthey could gain the valley, by going round the \nbrow of the hill in the ordinary road, he was \nfar enough beyond their reach. He continu- \ned his route, unmolested, to Stanford ; from \nwhence, having strengthened his picquet by \nthe junction of some militia, he came back \nagain, and, in turn, pursued Governor Tryon \nin his retreat.^ As he rode down the preci- \n\n* hi this retreat, though vHh a very hiferior force, General \nPtttDam made about fifty prisoaers^ part of whom were wounded. \n\n\n\n160 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM* \n\npice, one ball, of the many fired at him, went \ntJirough his beaver: But Governor Tryon, by \nVf^ay of compensation for spoiling his hat, sent \nhim, soon aiterwards, as a present, a complete \nsuit of clolhes. \n\nIn the campaign of 1 779, which terminated \nthe career of General Putnam's services, he \ncomm?inded the Maryland line, posted at But- \nter-Milk falls, about two miles below West- \nPoint He was happy in possessing the friend- \nship of the oflicers of that line, and in living on \nterms of hospitality with them. Indeed, there \nwas no family in the army that lived better \n\nthan his own. The General,' his second son \n\n» \n\nMajor Daniel Putnam, and the writer of these \nmemoirs, composed that family. This cam- \npaign, principally spent in strengthening the \nworks of West-roint, was only signalized for \nthe storm of Stony-Point by the light-infantry \nunder the conduct of General Wayne, and the \nsurprise of the post of Powles-Hook by the \ncorps under the command of Colonel Henry \nLee. When the army quitted the field, and \nmarched to Morris-Town, into winter-quarters, \nGeneral Putnam's family went into Connecti- \ncut for a few weeks. In December the Gene- \nral began his journey to Morris-Town. Up- \non the road between Pomfret and Hartford, \n\n\n\nand the whole were the next day sent, under the escort of an offi- \noer's ^ard, to the British lines for exchange. It was for the ha^ \nmaniiy and kindness of Putnam to the wounded prisoners, that \nGovernor Tryon complimented him with the \" suit of clothes.'' \n\n\n\n>» \n\n\n\nJAIPR OP GE»ffilUL PVTlfAM^ T6t \n\nbe feh an unusual toi*por slowly pervading hia \nright hand and fool. This heaviness crept \ngradually on, until it had deprived him of \nthe use of his limbs on that side, in a consid- \nerable degree, before he reached the house of \nhis friend Colonel Wadsworth. Still he waa \nunwilling to consider his disorder of the para- \nlytic kind, and endeavoured to shake it off by \nexertion. Having found that impossible, a \ntemporary dejection, disguised, however, un- \nder a veil of assumed cheerfulness, succeeded* \nBut reason, philosophy, and religion, soon re- \nGonciled him to his fate. In that situation he \nhas constantly remained^ favoured with aucb \na portion of bodily activity as enables bkn tv \nwalk and to ride moderately ; and retaining,^ \nunimpaired, his relish for enjoyment, bis love \nof pleasantry, his strength of memory, and all \nthe faculties of his mmd. As a proof that \nthe powers of memory are not weakened, it \nought to be observed, that he has lately ve* \npeatedt from recollection, all the adventura^ \nof his life, which are here recorded ,^ and which \nbad formerly been communicated to the com- \npiler in detached conversations. \n\nIn patient, yet fearless expectation of the \napproach of the Kino of Terrors, whom he \nhath full often faced in the field of blood, the \nChristian hero now enjoys^ in domestic retire- \nment, the fruit of his early industry. Having \nin youth provided a competent subsistence for \nold age, he was secured from the danger of \n\n\n\n162 LIFE OP OENERAC PUTNAM. \n\npenury and distress, to which so many officeri \nand soldiers, worn out in the public service, \nhave been reduced. To illustrate his merits \nthe more fully, this Essay will be concluded \nwith a copy of the last letter written to him, \nby General Washington, in his military char- \nacter. \n\n\n\n, \" Head-Quarters^ 2d June^ 1783. \n\n\" Dear Sir, \n\n\" Your favour of the 20th of May I receiv- \ned with much pleasure. For I can assure you \nthat among the many worthy and meritorious \nofficers with whom I have had the happiness \nto be connected in service through the course \nof this war, and from whose cheerful assistance \nin the various and trying vicissitudes of a \ncomplicated contest, the nume of a Putnaai i$ \nnot forgotten ; nor will be but with that stroke \nof time which shall obliterate from my mind \nthe remembrance of all those toils and fatigues \nthrough which we have struggled for the pre- \nservation and establishment of the Rights^ \nLiberties^ and Independence of our Country. \n\n\" Your congratulations on the happy pro- \nspects of peace and irkdependent security, \nwith their attendant blessings to the United \nStates, I receive with great satisfaction ; and \nbeff that you will accept a return of my gratu- \nlations to you on this auspicious event — an \n\n\n\nLIFE OP GENERAI. PUTNAM. 163 \n\nevent, in which, gr^at as it is in itself, and glo- \nrious as it will probably be in its coqseauences, \nyou have a right to participate largely, from \nthe distinguished part you have contributed ' \ntowards its attainment. \n\n\" But while I contemplate the greatness of \nthe object for which we have contended^ and \nfelicitate you on the happy issue of our toils \nand labours, which have terminated with such \ngeneral satisfaction, I lament that you should \nleel the ungrateful returns of a country, in \nwhose service you have exhausted your bodir \nly strength, and expended the vigour of a \nyouthful constitution. I wish, however, that \nyour expectations of returning liberality may \nbe verined. I have a hope they may — but \nshould they not, your case will not be a sin- \ngular one. Ingratitude has been experienced in \nall ages^ and Republics, in particiuar^ have ev^ \ner been famed for the exercise of that unnatural \nand CORDIS vice. \n\n** The Secretary at War, who is now \nhere, informs me that yob have ever been \nconsidered as entitled to full pay since your \nabsence from the field, and that you will still \nbe considered in that light until the close of \nthe war ; at which period you will be equally \nentitled to the same emoluments of half-pay \nor commutation as other officers of your rank* \nThe same opinion is also given by the Pay- \nMaster-General, who is DOW with the array, \nempowered by Mr. Morris for the settlement \n\n\n\n164 LIFE OF GENERAL PUTNAM. \n\nof all their accounts, and who will attend to \nyour's whoever you shall think pro{)er to \nsend on tor the purpose, which tt will proba^ \nbly be best for you to do in a short time. \n\n^' I anticipate, with pleasure, the day, and \nthat, I trust, not far on, when I shall quit the \nbusy scenes of a military employment, and re- \ntire to the more tranquil walks of don)estic \nlife. In that, or whatever other situation \nP^^ovidonce may dispose of my future daysi \n\nTHE REMEMBRANCE OF THE MANY FRIENDSHIPS \nAND CONNECTIONS I HAVE HAD THE HAPPINESS \nTO CONTRACT WITH THE GENTLEMEN OF THE \n^RMY, WILL BE ONE OF MY MOST. GRATEFUL \n\nREFLECTIONS. Under this conttir^pkuion^ and \nimpressed with the sentiments of benevolence and \nregard^ I commend yof/, my dear <SeV, my oth&r \nfriends^ and mth tnem^ the interests and happv' \n•ness of our dear country^ to the keeping and \n\nPROTECTION OF AlMIGHTY GoD. \n\n** 1 have the honour to be, &c. \n\n\"George Washington. \n\n\n\n** To the Honourable \n\n^ Major-General Putnam.'' \n\n\n\nLWE or ctE^qeB^ put^am* 165* \n\nThe cemainder of the life pf Geperal Put« \nDam was pa&oed in quiet retirement with his \n|bi9iljr« He experienced few interruptions ip \nbis bodily health, (except the paralytic debili- \nty with which he was af&icteq) retained full \npossession of his mental facul|ies, and en- \njoyed the,6ociety of his friends until the 17th \n»f May, 1790, when he was violently ^ttack- \n^ wito an. inflainnyitory ffis^se* Satisfied \nfrom the first that it would prove morta), he \nwsis calm and rescued, ^nd welcomed the ,ap- \npro^ch of dejath with joy, as a messenger sent \nto call bim from a life of toil to e v^riast^ng refit* \nOn the 19th of M^y, J 790, he tpnded a life \nivhieh h^d beep spent iin cultivatuig and de- \nfending the sqil of his birth. \n\nMuch of his life had been spent in arms, \nand^ the military of the neighbourhood were \ndesirous that the rites of sepulture should be \naccompanied with martial honours : they felt \nthat this last tribute of respect was due to a \nsoldier, who, from a patriotic love of country, \nbad devoted the best part of his life to the de- \nfence of her rights, and the establishment of \nher independence— and who, through long \nand trying services, was never once reproach- \ned for misconduct as an officer; but when \ndisease compelled him to retire from service, \nleft it, beloved and respected by the army a&l \nhis chief, and with high claims to the grateful \nremembrance of his country. \n\n15 \n\n\n\n] 66 LIFB OF GENERAL ^VTNAM* \n\nUnder these impressions, the grenadiers of \nthe 1 ] th regiment, the independent corps of \nartillerists, and the militia companies in the \nneighbonrhood, assembled each at their ap- \npointed rendezvous, early on the morning of \nthe 2l8t, and having repaired to the Tate \ndwelling house of the deceased, a suitable es- \ncort was formed, attended by a procession of \nthe Masonic brethren present, and a large \nconcourse of respectable citizens, which moved \nto the Congregational meetinghouse in Brook- \nlyn; and, after divine service performed by the \nKev. Dr. Whitney, all that was earthly of a \npatriot and hero was laid in the silent tomb, \nunder the discharge of vollies from the infan- \nIry, and minute guns from the artillery. \n\n\n\n1.IFB Of CERBRAL PUTNAM. 167 \n\n\n\nThe following eulogium was pronounced at the- \ngrave of Cfeneral Putnam by Dr. A. Waldo. \n\n** Those venerable relics ! once delighted \nin the endearing domestic vintues, which con- \nstitute the excellent neighbour — husband—^ \nl^arent — and worthy brother ! liberal and sub- \nstantial in his friendship; — unsuspicious— open \n—and generous; — just and sincere in dealing; \na benevolent citizen of the world — He concen- \ntrated in his bosom, the noble qualities of aOi \nHonest Man. \n\n\" Born 9 hero — ^whom nature taught and \ncherished in the lap oi innumerable toils and \ndangers, he was terrible in battle ! But« from \nthe araiableness of his heart — when carnage \nceased, his humanity spread over they^e/ci, like \nthe refreshing zephyrs of a summer^s evening ! \n— ^The prisoner — the wounded — the sick — the \nforlorn — experienced the delicate sympathy of \nthin SoLDiER^s Pillar — The poor, and the \nneedy, of every description, received the char- \nitable bounties oithis Christian Soldier. \n\n\n\n*' He pitied littleness — ^loved goodness— ad- \nmired greatness, and ever aspired to its glo» \nrious summit ! The friend, tne servant, and \nalmost unparalleled lover of his country;— \nworn with honourable age, and the former \ntoils of war — Putnam I * Rests from his la;- \nbours.' \n\n\n\n16^ tirt o^ ^timnAh Fl^^HARiL \n\n« Till mouldering worlds and tambUng systems favrtt I \nWhen the last trmnp shall renovate us dust-^ \nStiH by the mandate of eternal trudi. \nHis soul will ' flourish in immortal youth !* ** \n\n«< This all who knew him know ^^this aH \nfrho lov'd him, tcH.\" \n\n\n\nThe late Rev. Dr. Dwlskt^ President of Tate College^ \nwho knew General Putnam intimately^ has portray^ \ned his character faithfuUy in the following inserip^ \nHon, which is engraven on his tomb* \n\n8acred b^ this Monument \nto the memory \n\nIsrael Putnam, Esquire, \n\"senior Major General in the armies \n\nof \n\nthe United States of America ; \n\nwho \n\nwas bom at Salem, \n\nin die Province of MassachusettSk \n\non the rth day of January, \n\nA. D. in 8, \n\nand died \n\non the 19th day of May, \n\nA. D. 1790. \n\nPassenger, \n\nif thou art a Soldier, \n\ndrop a tear over the dust of a Her^ \n\nwho, \n\never attentive \n\nto the lives and happiness of his qien, \n\ndared to lead \n\nwhere any dared to follow ; \n\nif a Patriot, \n\nremember thft distinguished and gaUant services \n\nrendered thy country \n\nby the Patriot who sleeps beneatn this marble ; \n\nif thou art honest, generous and worthy, \n\nrender a cheerfiu tribute of respect \n\nto a man, \n\nwhose generosity was sin^lar, \n\nwhose honesty was proverbud; \n\nwho \n\nraised himself to universal esteem, \n\nand offices of eminent distinction, \n\nby personal worth \n\nand a \n\nuseful life* \n\n\n\nAPPENDIX. \n\n\n\nw%y»»wwiV\\^»<^w^vww\\^>ww%v<»vw>^»v^^/v\\<vw»^>v \\ ^%^»v^^f»^<»^ \n\n\n\nHISTORICAL AND TOPOGRAPHICAL \n\n\n\nSKETCH \n\n\n\nOF \n\n\n\nBXSXimB, Hllili BATTl*Ta. \n\n\n\nB^ ft. ft-wett, \n\n\n\nvww»%^^<^y^^»%v^>/vvvvvv^MW^wwv^»^v w »v^^v^^v % %w^ ^ vi%v^>^ \n\n\n\nDISTRICT OP MASSACHUSETTS, TO WIT. \n\nDUtrUt Clerk' 9 Office. \n\nBb it rbmbmbbrbd» that on the ninth day of September,. \nA. D. 18t8» and in the forty-third year of the Independence of the \nUnited States of America, Samuel Swett of the said district hai \ndeposited in this office the title of a book» the right whereof he \nclaims as author, in the words following, ^o vit .- \n\nHistorical and topographieal Sketch of Bunker Hill Battle, with \na Plan. By S. Swett \n\nIn conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, \nentitled, *' An Act for the enooura»ment of learning, by securing \nthe copies of maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprie- \ntors of fucli copies, during the times therein mentioned : and also \nto an Act entitled, ** An Act supplementary to an Aet, entitled. \nAn Aet for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies \nof maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprierors of such \ncopies, during Uie times therein mentioned ; and extending the \nbenefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving and etching his- \ntorical and other pnntt.\" \n\nJOHN W. DAVIS, \nClerk of the District of Mastaehosetts* \n\n\n\nThe writer of the following has no ambi- \ntion or pretensions to be an author, but from \nhis attention to military subjects, consented to \ndescribe a battle, one of the most glorious and \nimportant ever fought in America, and to ren- \nder his feeble contribution to the monument \nof fame which history yet owes our ancestors. \nThe materials lay scattered among newspa- \npers, magazines, records and files of CongresSi \nthe scattered surviving veterans of the day, \nand others. He was compelled by circum- \nstances to commence his researches in July, and \nfinish his sketch in August ; but he remind- \ned himself that our fathers fought for us in the \nsame oppressive season, and spared no effi>rt \nto render the work complete. Not a single \nfact is stated of which he has not the most sat- \nisfactory evidence. That the public however \nmay judge for themselves, he has deposited \nhis documents and proofs for their use at the \nBoston Ath^neum. \n\n\n\n\\ \n\n\n\nPRELIMINARY CHAPTER. \n\n\n\nWard, Pomeroy, Thomas, Heath and \nWhitcomb were appointed by the Provincial \nCongress of Massachusetts general officers \nover the militia. These troops having de- \nfeated the British at Lexington, and driven \nthem into Boston, could no longer be retained \nin quarters. \n\nBut five days after the battle, General \nWard writes Congress that unless enlisting \norders be immediately furnishedlnai, he shall \nbe left entirely alone. The day before, how- \n•cver, that body resolved, that an a^my of \nthirty thousand was necessary, thaj Mas- \nsachusetts would raise thirteen thousand six \nhundred, and that the other New England \nStates should have notice given them, and \nbe requested to furnish their respective \nproportions But the battle of Lexington was \na beacon fire to the neighbouring states. The \nhardy yeomen, whom -rage supplied with \narms, did not wait to be summoned by the \n\n16 \n\n\n\n17& BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\ntardy process of legislation ; they seized their \nhunting pieces^ and Aew to join their brethi'eB \nat the scene of danger. \n\nThe Committee of Safety, elected anew by \nCongress at every session, were the real \nexecutive of Massachuselts. The members \nl¥ere now John Hancock ' and Benjamin \nGreenleaf. who never took their seats, John \nPigeon and Enoch Freeman, seldom presentf \nand Joseph Warren, chairman, Benjamin \nCiiurch, Benjamin White, Joseph Palmeri \nAoraham Watson, Samuel Holten, Azor Orne, \nNathan Cushing and Richard Devens. They \nwere empowered generally to watch over the \nsafety of the commonwealth, and advise Con- \n\nTess of such measures as they thought bene? \n\nicial, and expressly commissioned : \n\n^^To assemble such and so many of the \n*^ Militia and them to dispose and place where \n^^ and detain so long as said Committee shall \n^^judge necessary, and discharge said Militia \n** when the safety of the Colony will admit \n^^ And the officers of the said Militia are eo- \n\" joyned to obey th^ orders and directionB of \n*^ said Committee of Safety. And also to direct \n^ the army of this Colon} to be stationed where \n^ said Committee of Safety shall judge most \n** conducive to the defence and service of this \n** Colony, and the general and other officers of \n^ the army are requested to render strict obe- \n\n\n\nBlTNKER HILL BATTLE. 179 \n\n• \n\n^dlence to such orckTs of said Committee ; but \n' Confifi'^^s have power to control any order of \n' tiie Committee of Safety. Also to nominate \n' persons to Congress to be commissi'>ned offi- \n^ cers in the army and to give enlisting orderg \n' to such persons as they think proper. And. \n' if any officers be ready to be commissioned \n'agreeable to the resolve of this Congress \n' during the recess of the sama the Committee \n'shall fill up and deliver to them commissions \n' to be fat*nished said Committee in blank for \n•* that purpose.\" \n\n. This committee distributed beating or en- \n' listing orders throughout the state to those \nwhom they thought qualified to raise recruits. \nThe number of a company was reduced from \none hundred to fifty-nme ; and he who could \nenlist this number was entitled to a captain's \ncommission, and one who procured ten cap- \ntains with companies to serve under him com- \nmanded the regiment. The Congress of Mas- \nsachusetts issued an eloquent address to the \npeople, which would do honor to any legisla- \nture on earth. The recruits came in with \nSirit, and by the middle of June the New \nigland army of citizen soldiers enlisted for \na few months amounted to about fifteen tbour \nsand troops. \n\nAbout ten thousand of these were of Mas- \nsachusetts; animated with the same love of \n\n\n\n189 \n\n\n\nBUNKiR RILL BATTLE. \n\n\n\nliberty which inspired the whole, they were \nmost confident in the rectitude of their cause, \nin which they were thoroughly instructed by \nJames Otis, who led the forlorn hope of the \nrevolution, John Adams, Quincy, Hancocki \nSamuel Adams, and other enlightened pa- \ntriots. And they were fighting battles more \n|>eculiarly their own, in defence of their wives, \nchildren and homes. But the more animating \nconsideration to them as soldiers, was the \nchivalrous reputation of their ancestors and \nthemselves, who had been in constant battle \nand constant victory against their formidable \nsavage foe, and had more recently proved at \nNova Scotia and Louisbourgh that tney were \nequally formidable against the civilized troops \ntiSurope* \n\n\n\n/ \n\n\n\nBVn^ER niLL BATTLE. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n5 \n\ni \n\no \n\n\nII \n^1 \n\n\n\n\n1?! \n\n\n\n\n.S \n1 \n\n\n\n\na \n\n\nIll \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\no \n\n\nT3 \n\n\n. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n1 \n\n\n\n\na \n\n\n\"iiu a \n\n\ndiss's- \n\n\n\n\n< \n\n\n\n\n-\"^^ \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nnil \n\n\nR \n\n\ni \n\n\ng \n\n\na^ s \n\n\n\n\na \n\n\na \n\n\nHH-«i \n\n\n.^,w44 \n\n\n\n182 \n\n\n\nBtrimR HltL BkVnMt \n\n\n\n\nbo •- a ^ \n\nQ) o o a \n\n«-* OD (Mi ^Z \n\n\n\no o \n\n\n\n\n\n\nCO \n\ns \n\n05 \n\n\n\nI \n\nCO \n\n\n\nCQ \n\n§ \n\n01 \n\n\n\ni** \n\n\n\n\n2 \n\nCO \n\n\n\noco a \n, c g I \n\n3 \"J \n\n^^^# !■■( ^^^^ \n\n\n\ni^ \n\n\n\nS 2 S' \nB c g \n\n© S\"0 \n\ns • \ns? « \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCO \n\n\nO 0) \n\n\nil \n\n\n\n\n\n\nipbraim \nonathan \n\n\ne a \n\n■§-8 \n\n\n\nOS \n\n\n\ni->)-<^K)f-^ \n\n\n\n0) \n\n\ns \n\n\np \n\n\n• —^ \n\n\nu \n\n\n■■iM \n\n\nOQ \n\n\n\n\n• WN \n\n\n• \n\n\n> \n\n\n5 \n\n\n^ \n\n\nJ \n\n\n\n\n\n\no \no \n\n\n\nu o ^ \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\ns \n\n\n\nSo? \n\n\n\nA \n\n\n\nI \n\n/ \n\n\n\n/ \n\n/ \n\n\n\nBVETKER HILL BATTLEt. llltil \n\nThe regiment of artillery was organized \nunder Colonel Richard Gridlejr, Lieutenant \nColonel William Burbeck, Majors Dairid Ma- \nson and Scarborough Gridley, and ten cap^ \ntains, with one six, two brass four, and six \niron three pound cannon. \n\nRhode Island had sent a regiment to Mas- \nsachusetts imbued with the determined spirit \nof civil and religious liberty, which the founder \n\"of their state maintained through every peril. \nColonel Green* was their commander, one of \nthe tiaost promising heroes of the revolution. \nTl^e elements of a soldier were so mixed in \nhim, that the wise already foresaw his elevat- \ned rank among warriors the most distinguish- \ned. Under him were Lieutenant Colonel Olnr \nand Major Boxan, experienced English sol- \ndiers. Two field pieces were attached to the \ncorps. \n\nThe hardy yeomanry of New Hampshire^ \nbeneath whose ponderous strokes the formid- \nable forests and the savages who inhabited \nthem had been levelled with the ground, who \nhad been used to little control but what the \nGod ot Nature imposed, were moved with in- \ndignation at approaching tyranny. They \nflocked as volunteers to the neighbourhood of \n\n* The accomplished scholar, Judse Johnson, is about \nll^eseutuig the public a biograj^y of this hero» \n\n\n\n184 BtmKER HILt BAfTiA \n\nBoston, and chose Colonel Stark, lieutenant \nColonel Wjman and Major MClarjr thei|f \nleaders. \n\nTheir colonel was worthy to command thit \nformidable band ; he had been a distinguished \ncaptain of Provincial Rangers received into \nthe service of the crown, was at Quebec \nunder General Wolfe, and enjoyed half par \nas a British officer, an offering he made yrith \nother sacrifices for the good of his country. \n\nTheir major also was a favourite officer. \nSix feet ana a half in height, with a Hercu* \nlean form in perfect proportions, a voice like \nStentorand strength of Ajax ; ever unequalled \nin athletic exercises, and unsubdued iu single \ncombat, whole bodies of men had been over* \ncome by him, and he seemed totally uncon- \nscious that he was not equally unconquerable \nat the cannon^s mouth. His mind and char- \nacter were of the same grand and energetic \ncast with his person ; and though deficient in \nthe advantages of finished education, he had \nbeen a member of the state legislature, and \nbis mercantile concerns were extensive.. \n\nThese troops were followed by another \nregiment from New Hampshire, which arrived \non the fifteenth of June^ under Colonel Reed^ \nLieutenant Colonel Gilman and Major Hale.. \n\n\n\nMfNKfilt HILL BATTLE. 185 \n\nCorrfiecticut, essentially and undeviatingly \nrepublican, was behind none of the province* \nin her determined hostility to the usurpation \nand encroachments o( the throne. To her \nantipathy to royalty the- proscribed judges of \nCharles the first had owed tliein mviolable \nasylum in her territory. Religious as well a» \ncivil liberty was in jeopardy, and the former \nwith her was paramount to all earthly con- \nfliderations. In her vocabulary the oritish \ntroops were the Philistines, and Putnam, the \nAmerican Samson, a chosen instrument to de- \nfeat the foe ; and fortunately she inspired her \nown confidence into all her sister states. \n\nWith their usual sagacity however theM \ntroops, notwithstanding a confident reliance \non supernatural aid, did not neglect all human \nmeans to secure it. Their eftate government^ \nconstitution, and establishments continued un- \nchanged. Their troops were better armed, \nbetter disdpKned and provisioned than any \ntroops in the New England army.- \n\nOn the first news of the battle of Lexing^ \nton, Putnam mounted his horse, rode in a \nsingle day one hundred miles, arrived at \nCambridge, and attended a council of war on \nthe 21st of April, when the parole was Put* \naam.^ His troops soon followed him. Storm \n\n* Orderly Book. \n\n\n\niS9 BVNKBR HILL BATTLBi \n\nwas lieutenant coloneU and Durkee, wh# \nhad served with liitn through the whole war \nof 1756, with distinguished reputation^ was \nmajor of his regiment. Brigadier General \nSpencer, Lieutenant Colonel WiHis and Major \n]Vjajo,Colonel VVaterburj and Colonel Parsons \ncame also with the Connecticut troops, in all \nabout three thousand. Captain Coit next to \nMClary in stature and intrepidity commanded \nan independent company of hardy New \nLondon tars, and Chester another indepen- \ndent company from Weatherslield, the elite \ncorps of the army. As such it was selected to \nescort General Putnam and Joseph Warren^ \nthe President of Congress, to Charleslown, \non the exchange of piisooers with the British* \n\nTh« scene of their meeting was hallowed \nby the flag of truce which waved over it,* \nand was sacred to the rites of hospitality and \nfrieodship. The officers on both sides wera \npersonal friends, though arrayed against each \nother in public hostility* Between Putnam \nand the British officers, especially, these ties \nhad been cemented by the mutual perils and \nintimate associations of the camp, duriqg the \nlong war of 1756, and their present opposition \nserved only to make their aifection glow with \na more genial warmth. These rugged sons \nef Mars, from the impulse of feeling, rushed \n\n* Newspapers and oral testimoDjr \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 187 \n\ninto each others arms. Bravery proved its \nnatural alliance with the finest feelings of the \nhuman heart The fell spirit of civil war was \nfofteoed. \n\nThe whole array was under the command \nof Artemas Ward, commissioned by the Pro- \nvincial Congress, on the 21 St of May, general \nand commander in chief of the Massachusetts \nforces. ~ His general orders were copied and \nobeyed by the forces of all the other prov- \ninces in Massachusetts, indiscriminately, and \nthe officers of all of them were ordered on \ncourts martial, and detailed for the usual rou- \ntine of duty without any distinction whatever.* \nCongress also resolvedf, on the 23d of May, \nthat a lieutenant general, two major gene- \nrals, four brigadier generals, two adjutant \nand two quarter master generals should be \nappointed. \n\nGeneral Ward was a gentleman of liberal \neducation, vigorous understanding and distin- \nguished probity. He bad been a member of \nthe council, speaker of the assembly, and \nchief justice of one of the courts in Massa- \nchusetts. He professed the rigid *tenets of \nNew England religion, and his rank and char- \nacter commanded an extensive influence in \nthe country. ^He had also served with reputa- \n\n* Orderly Books* \n\n\n\n188 BVlfKBR BItL BATTtfi« \n\ntion in the war of 1756, was a lieutenant col- \nonel at the storming of Ticonderoga, under \nGeneral Abercrorabie, and soon alter com- \nmanded the regiment. He had also been a \ncolonel in the militia, an office from which \nGovernor Hutchinson relieved him on account \nof his being too true a patriot. \n\nGeneral Thomas received the appointment \nof lieutenant general which he accepted oa \nthe 27tb of May. His superior talents, culti- \nvated by a liberal education, his^ gallantry, \nactivity and vigilance as a soldier, purity as a \npatriot, and honor as a man commanded the \nentire confidence of all who knew him. He \nhad s6rved in the former war with reputation^ \nand had already distinguished himself in this. \nBeing in command at Koxbury with a feeble \nforce. General Gage had determined to drive \nhim from that important post. But his vigi- \nlance detected the design, and by a ruse de \nguerre he defeated it. \n\nOn the day fixed for the attach, all his \ntroops were paraded, marching them round \nthe tiiil on wnich he was encamped, in view \nof Boston, and returning those in front by a \nshort rout, again to the rear, they wore tl^ \nappearance of a long column ot troops. Being \nwithout uniform the deception was perfect, \nand General Gage, alarmed with the show of \nforce, relinquished the enterprise. \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 189 \n\nThe veteran General Pomeroy of North- \nampton continued with the new levied troops \nunder his old commission, not having vet re- \nceived a new appointment, and assisted in or- \nganizing the army. He was a hardy, intrepid, \nadventurous soldier, a keen and celebrated \nhunter, an honest, open hearted man. He \nbad acquired a distinguished reputation in the \nwar of 1756, when military fame was the re- \nward of individual prowess and private enter- \nprise, and left the service a laurelled captain \nof Provincials. He commanded a company \nunder Sir William Johnson in the celebrated \nengagement when the French and Indians, \nunder the Baron Dieskau, were defeated. To \nour captain the honor of having slain the \nbaron was awarded over rival claims^ and the \nbaron^s watch was bestowed on him as a \ntrophy to be transmitted with his fame to \nposteritv.\"^ He was in fact the natural mili- \ntary chieftain of his neighbourhood, and may \nwell be styled the Putnam of Connecticut \nRiver. \n\nGeneral Whitcomb bore a close resem- \nblance in his history and character to General \nPomeroy. He appeared with the militia at \nLexington battle, but was too advanced in \nyears for active service. He received the ap \n\n/ * It it yet retained in his family. \n\n\n\n190 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\npointment of major general ia the new army \non the 12th of June. \n\nOn the 14th of June, Joseph Warren was \nelected a major general of Massachusetts. \nIn his character the heroism of antiquity com- \nbined with the romantic chivalry of the middle \nages. An accomplished scholar : gifted with \ngenius the most distinguished, his mind was \nstored with the treasures of classic erudition. \nAs an orator a model ; elegant and impres- \nsive, ardent and irresistible ; twice selected to \naddress hi$ fellow citizens, the thunder of his \neloquence severed the adamantine chain by \nwhich nature bound them to the mother \ncountry. As a jpatriot, pure and without re- \n\nS roach, his favorite maxim was ^^ Decus et \necorum est pro patria mori,'' and from pre- \nsentiment he foresaw that this motto would \none day be recorded in the lifers blood of a \nheart as noble as ever panted after immor- \ntality. A physician the most eminent, bis \nsuperb character soared far beyond the nar- \nrow limits of his profession. In person hand- \nsome, in manners elegant arid accomplished, \nhe was the favorite of the drawing room, and \nQualified to shine in the highest circles of \nfashion. But the cause of liberty, of his coun- \ntry and mankind summoned him to a destiny \nby far more exalted. Chairman of the Com- \nmittee, of Safety ,*and President of the Provin- \ncial Congress, he remembered that in the \n\n\n\nBirrYSJ^S. HILL BATTLE. 191 \n\nsimplicity of ancient republics, legislators the \nmost distinguished were also warriors the \nmost devoted. He accompanied General Put- \nnam as a volunteer to one of the islands^ \nwhere in a warm engagement the enemy wer« \ndefeated and a vessel destroyed ; and his head \nhad been grazed by a ball from the enemy at \nthe battle of Lexington. \n\nGeneral Ward's quarters were at Cam- \nbridge, with about eight thousand Massachu-* \nsetts troops, and one thousand from Coiinecti*- \ncut. The latter, with Sargent's Massachusetts \nregiment, were under the immediate command \nof General Putnam, in a central and advanced \n\nf>osition near Inman's farm, where the enemy \nanded previous to the battle of Liexington.. \nHere some slight breastworks were thrown \nup. Another slight work was erected near \nthe Charleetowii road, a mile and a half from \nCambridge, where Colonel Patterson's regi-! \nment was stationed. \n\nFour companies of artillery with, and one \nwithout field pieces, were also at Cambridge. \n\nAt Roxbury, Lieutenant General Thomas \ncommanded about two thousand Massachu- \nsetts, two thousand Connecticut and one thou-? \nsand Rhode Island troops, including an artil* \nlery company with field pieces. These com* \nposed the right wing of the army. \n\n\n\n192 BVimR ntLL BATTLB* \n\nAt Medford about one thousand New \nHampshire troops under Colonels Stark and \nReea, formed the left wing of the army* \n\n• \nThese troops were hardy, brave, actWc, \nathletic and indefatigable. Almost every sol- \ndier equalled William Tell as a marksman^ \nand would aim his weapon at an oppressor \n^ith as keen a relish. Those from the fron- \ntier had gained this address against the sava* \nges and beasts of the forest. The country \n.yet abounded with game, and bunting was \nfamiliar to all ; and the amusement the most \nfashionable and universal throughout New \nEngland, was trials of skill with the musket \n\nThese troops were also religious, and their \nrespect for tne opinions' of tne clergy was \nunbounded. But the religion of their clergy \nwas republican in its nature; they had tne \nmost lively antipathy to church establishments, \nand dread of royal oppression. To avoid the \nexpense of chaplains to the army, the cler^ \nin the neighbourhood of the camp were in- \nvited by Congress to perform divine aervice, \nthirteen of them, every Sabbath; a duty they \ndischarged with zeal and punctuality. \n\nThe confidence of the army in their officers \nWas as complete, as it appears from the char- \nacters of those described to have been richly \nmerited. But beside these superior officers, \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 193 \n\nmany of the field and commissioned o&^rs \nand privates bad served m the army in the \nwar of 1745 of of 1756, and had there reaped \nwell deseiTed laurels. \n\nTheir confidence was at present elevated \nto an excess by the recent and astonishing \nconquests which their arms had accomplisheou \nBeside the victory at Lexington, and success^ \nfill skirmishes in the neighj^ourhood of Boston^ \nthey bad just learned, that Arnold, who had \nreceived a colonel's commission and troops \nfrom the Committee, of Safety of Massachu- \nsetts, had, in alliance with other New Ek^land \nforces, achieved the important acquisition rf \nCrown Point and Ticonderoga. These troops \nWere also sensible that they were fighting in \ntheir own cause, and were exalted into hero^ \nby a glorious, enthusiastic love of liberty, a \nmaddening, indignant sense of oppressioik \nThis indignation burned with new fury from \na recent proclamation of Governor Gage, de« \nnouncing them all as rebels, and especially the \nproscribed patriots, Hancock and Adams, th^ \nabettors, adherents and associates. \n\nExcepting these characteristics, howeverV \ntl>ey were deficient in almost every important \nI'equisite of an army. They were wretctedly \ndefective in arms, and the bayonet was al- \nmost universally wanting. They were entirely \nstrangers to discipline and almost to subordi- \n\n17* \n\n\n\n194 BUNKER HILL BATTLE^ \n\nnation. They were nominally organized into \nregiments^ but these were deficient in nvm* \nberS) many of them only skeletons, and thmr \nrespective ranks were not ascertained. Some \nof these troops were yet serving as mioute \nmen, and a number of regiments had not re- \nceived their commissions. Tents were not \nprovided. The commissariat and quarter- \n'master's department and staff were yet unor- \nganized. The several towns sent provisions \nto their troops with profusion, but with i^ \nregularity ana waste* \n\nColonel Gridley was appointed chief, and \nWilliam Burbeck second engineer, but the \nlatter was attached to the ordnance depart- \nment, and Colonel Gridley had no en^neers \nunder him. It was impossible for him to sup* \nply this defect, and he was himself almost \ntoo advanced in years for service. But if \nmilitary science, skill and experience could \nhave overcome these difficulties, there was \nnot an officer in America more capable of \naccompliishing it than Colonel Gridley. \n\nRichard Gridley, brother of J. Gridley, in \nhk day ^^ the giant of ^the law,'' was bom in \nBosjton, 17 IL Uncommon genius, improved \nby superior education, prepared him for an \nelevated standing. Most apt and learned in \nevery branch of mathematics, of romantic \nboooTi chivalrous ambition, and adventurou? \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 195 \n\nbravery, nature made him a soldier; and it \nwas found impossible for art to make him a \nmerchant The attempt was relinquished, \nand, like the two principal heroes of the \nAmerican revolution, Washington and Greene, \nhe employed himself as a practical surveyor- \nand civil engineer. \n\nAfter the decease of his brother who held \nthe office he was elected Grand Master of the \nfraternity of Masons. \n\nMilitary science he studied with enthusiasm \nand acquired with facility, and in 1745 he \ncommenced his military career. \n\nMtfisachusetts raised an army of three \nthousand two hundred men, New Hampshire \nadded three and Connecticut five hundred, to \nconquer the Island of Cape Breton. In this \narmy he received the appomtment of engineer \nand commander of the artillery. Under the \ninstruction of Bastide, a most distinguished \nengineer, he became at once an adept in his \nprofession, and acquired like Archimedes dis- \ntinguished celebrity in the war of sieges. \nWith scientific accuracy he pointed the mortar \nwhich on the third fire threw a bomb into the \ncitadel, one grand cause of the subsequent \nsurrender of Louisbours: and conquest of \nGape Breton, ^ ^ \n\n\n\n196 BUNKER HILL BATTtE. \n\nHe was rewarded bj a captaincy in Gov- \nernor Shirley^s American regiment on the \nBritish establishment. The peace left him \non half pay^ and m 1752 be attended the \ngovernor to the Kennebeck, and erected forts \nW estera and Halifax. \n\nIn 1755 he again entered the service as \nchief engineer and colonel of infantry, lo 1756 \nhe was coomiaDder of the provincial artille- \nry under General Winslow in the expedition \nagainst Crown Point, and proceeded to Lake \nGeorge, where he erected fortifications. In \n1757 he safled for Halifax intended for Lou- \nisbourg, but the expedition was arrested by \nthe French fleet. In 1758 he revisited his \nearliest field of glory, and was at tbe s#cond \ntaking of Louisbourg under Genei-al Am- \nherst. He had the superintendance of tbe \nordnance stores, and was so distinguished in \nthe siege, as were all the New England \ntroops, that the general tendered him the \nwhote valuable furniture of the governor's \nhouse, a present which he with chivalrous \ndelicacy declined. \n\nIn 1759 General Amherst conferred on him \nthe distinguished honor of comn^anding the \nartillery under the iimnortal Wolfe at the \nsiege of Quebec. \n\n\n\nBUHKER HILL BATTLE. 197 \n\nGeneral Amherst found it impossible to \njoin the expedition against Quebec as he in- \ntended ; notwithstanding which the audacious \ncommander, seconded by the heroic Gridley \nand his other officers, determined to achieve \nthe conquest alone. He landed his army in \nthe night under the heights of Abraham, \nmounted the precipice, and won the glorious \nbattle, in which Gridlej proved himself wor- \nthy to fight by his side. \n\nHis country acknowledged his services and \nrewarded them. The Magdalen islands with \nan extensive seal and cod fishery, and half pay \nas a British officer, were conferred on him. \n\nAt the commencement of the American re- \nvolution his British agent, by order of govern- \nment, enquired to what party he devoted his \nservices. His magnanimous answer was, ^^ he \n*' never drew his sword but in the cause of jus- \n*^ tice, and such he considered to be his coun- \n'' try's.'' His half pay ceased, and the arrears \nalready due he had too much spirit to receive. \n\nThe British army in Boston, at the time of \nLexington battle, were about four thousand \ntroops under General Gage, the governor of \nMassachusetts. He had served with eclat \nboth in America and Europe, had married an \nAmerican lady, was popular in the country, \nand disposed to moderate expedients, until he \n\n\n\n198 \n\n\n\nWKKER HlLt BATTLE. \n\n\n\ntecrificed his own judgment to the advice of \nviolent partizans. \n\nBy the last of May large reinforcements ar- \nrived, and the whole consisted of the following \nregiments; the fourth, fifth, tenth, fourteenth, \nthree companies of the eighteenth, twenty \nthird, thirty fifth, thirty eighth, forty third, \nforty seventh, fifty second, fifty ninth, sixty \nthird, two companies of the sixty fifth, and \nthe sixty seventh. These amounted to about \nten thousand troops under Generals Gage, \nHowe, Clinton, Burgoyne, Pigot, Grant and \nKobinson, Lords Percy and Rawdon, Colonels \nAbercrombie, Williams and others, the most \ndistinguished officers and choicest troops of \nthe British empire. \n\nThe fifty second, the royal Irish and the \ntwenty third or Welsh fusileers, had been the \nmost signalized. This last was the Prince of \nWales regiment in elegant uniform with a \n^rong national spirit and esprit de coi-ps.* \n1 here was also a squadron of cavalry, for \nwhose use a house of God was unwisely and \nsacrilegiously assumed. \n\nr;-u*!fT * ^^^^^ that a foi-mer Prince of Wales had \nndden from h,s principality into England on a ff^t; a \nJllT \"\"'• ^'^gCdediori,s. waf always mSain- \n♦liz I K ''\"'■P^' ^°*^ ^^\"y celebrated the anniversary of \nthe teat by a procession, rejoicing and exnUation. \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 109 \n\nThe light infaqtry of the regiments were \n. encamped on the heights of West Boston, \nfacing Cambridge ; a very strong battery for^ \ncannon and mortars was erected on Copps \nHill, facing Charlestown, and very strong \nlines and batteries were formed across the \nneck on the side of Roxbury. \n\nThe British were equally sanguine, and as \nconfident of success as their enemy, for whom, \nas soldiers, they entertained a sovereign con* \ntempt. This opinion was nourished by their \nofficers who had served with those of the Pro- \nvincials, when they were degraded below the \nBritish officers of similar commissions, and the \ngenerals were allowed no rank with those of \nthe mother country. They were confirmed \n'\\n the same opinion from tne ordinary arms \nand the uncouth dress of the American troops, \nwhich they had worn unchanged from the \nplough or the workshop, and the want of dis- \ncipline and subordination which signalized \ntheir camp. \n\nThey were also enthusiastic admirers of \ntheir government and constitution. They \nheld the king and parliament in religious vene- \nration, and considered them as omnipotent on \nearth as Deity in heaven. They looked up- \non the Americans as foul, ungrateful and un- \nnatural rebels, and burned with indignation to \nioiUct on thism exemplary punishment. \n\n\n\nSSQO B0NKER HItL BATTLE. \n\nTheir narrow quarters galled their pride ; \nBurgojne declared they would have elbow \nroom, and General Gage proclaimed his mor- \ntification ^^ that the Americans affected to \nhold the British army besieged.\" Notwith- \nstanding the superior and increasing numbers \nof the foe, they determined to leave the town^ \nand take Charlestown and Dorchester heights. \nThe busy preparation had commenced to \npossess tnemselves of the latter on the eight- \neenth day of June, but the Americans before \nthat provided other occupation for their arms. \n\nThe Americans were impatient to be led \nagainst the enemy. Thfey were unable to \nappreciate the necessity of discipline, or to \nunderstand the unorganized situation of every \ndepartment of the army; but the hardships \nand expense of service they sorely realized. \nMany of the officers w^rci favpurable to the \nwishes of the men. They had been used to \nthe loose service of rangers, aad could not \nweigh the requisitions of a regular army. \n\nGeneral Putnam, Colonel Prescott, and \nother veterans, demanded that adi%ntage \nshould be taken of this disposition of the men^ \nand their wishes gratified. The utility of the \nfrequent and successful skirmises they had al- \nready engaged in was immense. They prom- \nised themselves still higher advantage from an \naffair more important, but short of a general \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 291 \n\nengagement. They knew that, could the en- \nemy be induced to engage a formidable de- \ntachment, their inferiority with the musket \nwould make them deeply rue any advantage \nthey might gain, while it would convert our \narmy into soldiers; and these beneficial re- \nsults would be doubled, could the Americans \nbe covered by entrenchments. Putnam, to \nshow his correct estimation of his countrymen, \nas raw troops, advanced his favorite maxim, \n\"the Americans are not at all afraid of their \n\" heads, though very much afraid of their \n\" legs; if yoU' cover these they will fight for- \n'' ever.\" Before the Council of War, in con- \ntinual session, these arguments were under \nconsideration. \n\nThe same momentous question had been de- \nbated in the Committee of Safety. They re- \nceived information, from their secret emissaries, \nthat the enemy intended to advance into the \ncountry, and posses^ themselves of the very \ncoounanding heights of Charlestown and \nDorchester. The necessity of anticipating \nthem in a project so fatal to America was \nmost solemnly urged for the purpose of pre- \nventing their advance into tne country, des- \ntroying their shipping, and making the town \nitself too hot for tnem. \n\nBut. this course was opposed by formidable) \nand almost insuperable aifficulties. The ar* \n\n18 \n\n\n\n202 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nmj seemed called on to maintain a rigid de« \nfence till they were better disciplined and \nprepared for battle ; and what was of vastly \nmore weight, they had not gunpowder. \nThere were eleven barrels only in the public \ndepots, and but sixty seven in Massachusetts. \nThese heijghts cpmpletely overlooked the \ntown, and it was impossible for the enemy to \nsuffer the Americans to keep them without \nthe most desperate efforts, and a general en- \nage men t. This and the cannonade we should \ne necessitated to support, to answer that of \nthe enemy, (for if omitted it would betray our \nsecret impotency as to powder) were entirely \nbeyond our means. General romeroy, how- \never, took council of his coura^, and with \nunbounded confidence in the skill of his coun- \ntrymen *' would fight the enemy with but five \n^ cartridges a piece. He himself was practised \n^ in hunting, and always brought home two, \n^^ and sometimes three deer, with but three \n\"** charges of powder. But the men had gen- \n^ erally supplied themselves with powder as * \n^^ militia, and the public could easily make good \n** the deficiency.'' \n\nGeneral Putnam, to encourage discipline \nand emulation, and brave the enemy, marched \nin face of them with all the troops from Cam- \nbridge to Charlestown, about the 10th day of \nJune; And about the same time, to support \nthe policy of engaging the enemy in an affair. \n\n\n\nr \nBUKKER HILL BATTLE. 203 \n\nhe attentively reconnoitred the countrjr with \nother officers. A position perfectly suited to \ntheir purpose, and which does immortal honor \nto their coup d^ceil and military skill, they \nfound in the fields of Charlestown. They re* \npaired to the place, and with minute accuracy \nexamined the position. \n\nBy the direction of General Ward, Colonel \nGridley and Colonel Henshawv accompanied \nby Mr. Devens, one of the Committee of Safe- \nty from Charlestown, had examined this p^rt \nof the country in May, and reported in favor \nof fortifying Prospett Hill first, Bunker Hill \nnext, and lastly Breed^s Hill. \n\nThe settlement of Charlestown and the \nfields are situated on a peninsula, with Charles \nRiver on the south, and Mystic River on the \nnorth. It is eleven hundred yards across from \nnorth to south, and one mile forty three rods \nin length from east to west, at which extremi- \nty the two rivers approach each other, and \nfortn a neck of land but one hundred and thir- \nty yards over. Breed's Hill is long, the east- \nern end rather steep, the western sinking \ngradually ; the south side is very steep, ana \nat the bottom of it was Charlestown. It is \nsixty two feet' in height. The north is like- \nwise steep, and was protected at the bottom \nby a deep impassable slough; beyond this, \nproceeding north, you cross a tongue of landt \n\n\n\n204 6UNl3:filt HItt BATTL& \n\ntwenty feet in height above Mystic River, the \nshore of which terminates it on the north side. \nThis tongue of land runs east to within two \nhundred and fifty yards of Morton's Hill and \nparallel with Breed's Hill Morton's Hill lies \nnortheast from Breed's, and is thirty five feet \nin height. The ground between tne tongue \n©f land and Breed's Hill, and beyond the east- \nern end of it and Morton's Hill was low and \nmarshy. On the driest parts of this low land, \nhowever, were a number of brick kilns. The \ntongue of land at its western extremity terroi- \nBates in Bunker Hill, which on this side has a \nconsiderable slope, and on all its other sides is \nexceedingly steep. It is one hundred and ten \nfeet high, bear^ northwest from Breed's, and \nthe summits of the two are distant from each \nother one hundred and thirty rods. By Bun- \nker Hill Breed's is completely commanded. \nA narrow road ran from the neck over Bunker \nHill, between the tongue of land and Breed's \nHill, and entirely round Breed's Hill, ap- \nproaching very near its summit on the south. \n\nEven the daring enterprise of Warren hesi- \ntjated at the accumulated dangers and difficul- \nties, apparently insurmounta^fle, which oppos- \ned our taking and maintaining possession of \nthe heights of Charlestown. But the Council \nof War and Committee of Safety, of which he \nwas chairman, and in which he opposed the \nmeasure, adopted a different opinion. JLike a \n\n\n\nBC7KKER HILL BATTLE. 205 \n\ngenuine patriot, bis own opinion was forgot- \nten, and be joined beart and hand with his \nbrethren to command success. \n\nOn the fifteenth of June, the Committee of \nSafety passed the following votes : \n\n*' Whereas this Committee lately applied to \n\" the Honourable the Congress of this colony, \n'^ for an augmentation of the army now in the \n\" vicinity of Boston, and as some circumstan- \n\" ces have since taken place, which strength- \n\" ened the arguments then used in favor ofthe \n'' said augmentation ; particularly that many \n\" of the then expected reinforcements for Gen- \n\" eral Gage's army are arrived ; that General \n^* Gage has issued a very extraordinary pro- \n** clamation, in which the inhabitants of Mas- \n^^ sachusetts are, in the most explicit manner, \n'' declared rebels ; and various accounts have \n^^ been brought to this Committee of the move*^ \n^^ ment of General Gage^s army, and that he \n>^ intends soon to make another attempt to> \n>' penetrate into the country : From the con^ \n^^ sideration of all which premises, together \n^« with that of our army, Resolved, that the \n** good and welfare of the colony recjuires that \n«^ there be an immediate augmentation of said \n«^ army, that such soldiers m the army as be \n^^ destitute of arms be immediately supplied \n«^ therewith, that such regiments of militia as \n^ be destitute of officers be immediately fdled \n\nla * \n\n\n\n^06 BUNKER HILL BATtLfi. \n\n\" up, in such manner as the Honourable Cod* \n^ gress maj direct ; and that all the militia in \n^' tne colony be ordered to hold themselves in \n^^ readiness to march, on the shortest notice, \n** completely equipped, having thirty rounds of \n^^ cartridges per man ; all wnich is earnestly \n^^ recommenaed to the immediate consideration \n\" of. the Honourable Congress, now sitting in \n\" Watertown. To which the Committee would \n*' beg leave to add a general recommendation \n** to the people, to go to meeting armed on the \n** Lord^s day, in order to prevent being thrown \n**' into confusion.^' \n\nOn the same day they passed the following \nvote, which, for secrecy, was not recorded ub- \ntill the 19th of June: \n\n\" Whereas it appears of importance to the \n** safety of this colony that possession of the \n\"^^ hill called Bunker Hill, in Charlestown, be \n^ securely kept and defended, and also some \n^ one hill or hills on Dorchester Neck be fike- \n** wise secured, therefore resolved unanimous- \n•* Iv, that it be recommended to the Council of \n•* War that the above mentioned Bunker Hill \n^ be maintained by sufficient force being post- \n\" ed there; and as the particular situation of \n*^ Dorchester Neck is unknown to this Com-^ \n^ mittee, they advise that the Council of War \n^ take and pursue such steps respecting the \n/^ same, as to them shall appear to be for the \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 207 \n\n^ security of this colon j.'' On the same day \nit was ordered, \" that Captain Benjamin \n\" White and Colonel Joseph Palmer be a \n** committee to join with the committee from \n\" the Council of War, to proceed to the Rox- \n\" bury camp, there to consult with the general \n\" officers on matters of importance, and to \n^^communicate to them a resolve this day \n** passed, in this Committee, respecting Bun- \n\" ker Hill in Charlestown, and Dorchester \n** Neck.\" The Provincial Congress prepared \nan eloquent and energetic answer to Governor \nGage^s proclamation, to be issi^ed on the 1 6th \nof J une, in which Governor Gage and Admi- \nral Graves arc excepted from the general am- \nnesty, to respond to the proscription of Han* \ncock and Adams ; but this paper contest was \nforgotten in the bloody battle which ensue^^ \n\n\n\nTHE BATTLE. \n\n\n\nOn the 16th of June, 1775, the approaching \ndog star shed its influence over the American \ncamp. The earth was parched up; but the \npatriotism of the soldiers was more powerful \nthan the sun, and their well strung nerves \nwere proof agabst its enervating influence. \n\n\n\nWith the advice of the Council of War, \nGeneral Ward issued orders to Colonel -Wil- \nliam Prescott, to the commander of Colonel \nFrye's regiment, and Colonel Bridge, to be \nrepared lor an expedition, with all their men \nt for service, and one day's provisions. The \nsame order issued for one hundred and twenty \nof General Putnam's regiment, and one com- \npany of artillery with two field pieces. \n\n\n\nI \n\n\n\nWith these troops Colonel Prescott was or- \ndered to proceed to Charlestown in the even- \ning, take possession of Bunker Hill, and erect \nthe requisite fortifications to defend it. JBis \n\n\n\n^NKER HILL BATTLE. 209 \n\norders were to be kept profoundly secret, and \nprovisions and refreshments were to be sent \nin the morning, with as many more troops as \nshould be necessary to» reinforce him. \n\nNot an officer in the army could have been \nselected more worthy the honor, or more ad- \nequate to the arduous undertaking than Col- \nonel Prcscott. In this veteran, age already \nbegan to display its ravages ; but the fire of \nhis youth was undamped. He was of Pepper- \nelL and was early leit in affluence by the de-^ \ncease of his father. He soon received a com- \nmission in the provincial army, and, with ma- \nny of his neighbourhood who enlisted, he \njoined the forces under General Wlnslow, and \nassisted in the conquest of Nova Scotia. His \nmilitary talents attracted instant admiration, \nand he was urged by the British officers to \naccept a commission in the royal army. At- \ntachment to his brave soldiers and country- \nmen, however, did not permit him to separate \nhimself from them, and he returned to his es- \ntate. The soldiers who had served under \nhim still considered him their head. Like \nthe chief of some feudal clan, he received them \nall with open doors at his hospitable mansion. \nIn the habits he had acquired in camps his \nproperty was expended for their relief, com- \nfort or entertainment, as freely as they were \nready on every occasion to shed their blood \nfor his honor, and under his command. \n\n\n\nJ <■ \n\n\n\n210 BiriTKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nHjs figure was tall and commanding, and his \ncountenance grave, ardent and impressive as \nhis character. With this presence, and his \nlon^ and formidable sword, he needed no \nuniform to distinguish him as a leader. In a \nsimple calico frock he headed the detachment \nof about one thousand men, who left camp at \ndark, and proceeded to Charlestown. Colonel \nPrescott led the way with two sergeants, hav- \ning dark lanterns open only to the rear, about \nsix paces in front ol the troops. \n\nGeneral Putnam having the general super* \nin tendance of tbe expedition, and the chief \nengineer, Colonel Gridley, accompanied the \ntroops. \n\nProfound mystery hung over the object of \nthe expedition till they crossed Charlestown \nNeck and found the waggons loaded with \nintrenching tools. \n\nThe officers were hastening to order the \nardfis to be stacked, and fortifications com- \nmenced, when a most serious confusion arose \nas to the construction of their orders, and the \npoint to be fortified. None of the hills ex- \ncept Bunker had yet been distinguished by \nname. And though this was the most com- \nnianding and most defensible position, it was \ntoo far from the enemy to annoy their army \nand shipping. This hill seemed specified \n\n\n\nBUNKER ttILL BATTLE. 211 \n\nonly by mistake, and Breed's Hill was far \nbetter adapted to the important objects of the \nexpedition, and better suited the adventurous \nspirit of the commanding officers. Their most \ninvaluable moments were wasted without \ncoming to a conclusion, though the wary and \nscientific engineer again and again urged them \nto determine at once on the ground, or it \nwould be impossible to complete the requisite \nfortifications. \n\nBreed's Hill was at length concluded on, and \nColonel Gridley immediately laid out the works \nupon it with a genius and dkill which would \nhave honored any engineer in the highest \nadvance of military science. The redoubt on \nthe summit of the hill was about eight rods \nsquare. The strongest side, on front, in the \nform of a redan, faced Charlestown, and pro- \ntected the south side of the hill. The eastern \nside commanded a very extensive field, and \nin a line with this, running north down the \nside of the hill to the impassable slough, was \nformed a breastwork, which, at the southern \nextremity, was separated from the redoubt \nby a narrow passage way or sally port, pro- \ntected in front by a blind. In the rear ot the \nredoubt was a passage or gate way opening \ntoward the slough. \n\nThe works marked out, tools were distrib- \nuted to the men ; but midnight arrived before \n\n\n\n212 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nthe first spade entered the groun^. These \nbrawny yeomen were literally, however, \nworking for their lives as well as their liber- \nties, and performed prodigies of labour. They \nwere instructed and stimulated by General \nPutnam, Colonel Prescott, and other officers, \namong whom was Major Brooks, distinguish- \ned by the well deserved confidence of the ar- \nmy. Just entered on manhood he relinquish- \ned a lucrative profession at the call of his \ncountry. Commanding a battalion of minute \nmen, he commenced his military career at th^ \nbattle of Lexington and received the same \nrank in the army. He was imperatively call- \ned home, by dangerous sickness in his lamil^i \nand received no order to march with his regi- \nment. But the danger of his fellow soldiers \nwas a sufficient summons, and he hastened to \njoin his corps, which he overtook at the neck. \n\nThere was an unobscured starlight, and \nthe movements of the neighbouring enemy \ndemanded observation. Colonel Prescott pro- \nceeded with Major Brooks to the shore to \nreconnoitre them. Every thing was quiet; \nthey distinctly heard the enemy relieving \nguard, and were rejoiced at the welcome \ncry from the centries, however unfounded, \n•'All's well!\" \n\nThe men quietly at their labours, General \nPutQam in the morning repaired to his camp» \n\n\n\nBUNKER hux battle. 213 \n\nto prepare for the anticipated crisis, and to be \nmounted afresh, for his gait over horseneck \nifas not more expeditious than his ordinary \nriding, and his horse required to be relieved. \n\nWatchful as Argus, Prescott could hardly \nconjecture that the enemy were so negligent \nof military caution, as to suffer his powerful \nforce to approach their very threshold un- \nobserved. He advanced anew to examine \ntheir situation ; again all was quiet. \n\nBut the blazing sun began his approaches^ \nand the grey of the morning was dissipated. \nThe veil was lifted from the astonished eyes \nof the British ; but they would hardly credit \ntheir senses on perceiving their daring enemy \nabove them, overlooking their whole position, \nwith formidable entrenchments, which Had \nsprung up as by enchantment. The cannon of \ntne Lively opened on the Americans and \nroused their countrymen from secure repose, \nto participate in tne same surprise ana as- \ntonishment. \n\nGeneral Gage was thunderstruck at the \nunwelcome information, and sent an imme- \ndiate summons to his officers to meet him in \na council of war. \n\nSome other frigates, floating batteries, the \nSomerset line of battle ship, a formidable \n\n19 \n\n\n\n214 B0NKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nbattery of the heaviest pieces, and a mortar \non Copps Hill, opened a tremendous fire on \nthe Americans, sufficient to appal even vete- \nran troops. \n\nThis fire was some time without effect, but \nthe men venturing in front of the works, on« \nof them was killed by a cannon shot. A \nsubaltern officer acauainted Colonel Prescott, \nand asked what snoukl be done. '^ Burj \n\" him.\" \" What,\" said the green astonished \nofficer, \" without prayers !\" A chaplain, who \nwas present, insisted on performing service \nover this first victim, and collected many of \nthe soldiers around him, heedless of peril. \nPrescott ordered them to disperse ; but reli- \ngious enthusiasm prevailed, and the chaplain \nagain collected his congregation in the midst \nof the enemy's fire, wMn the decea8^d was \nordered to be taken and buried in the ditch. \n\nTo dispel the terror which this event ex- \ncited, Prescott mounted on the works, and \ndirected the labor. Heedless of all the fire \nof the enemy, he was wrought up to the \nhighest pitch of enthusiasm, and transferred \nhis own exaltation into every private under \nhim. From oppressive heat, and the vehe- \nmence of his address, his false hair was \nthrown off, and waving his sword, he some- \ntimes upbraided his men in anger, and some- \ntimes encouraged them with approbation? or \n\n\n\nBUNKfiR HILL BATTLE. 215 \n\namused them with humour. Perfectly under- \natandiug his countr>men, he was complete \nmaster of their souls. Not the great Su- \nwarrow himself was ever more negligent of \nappearance, or ever inspired his faithful fol- \nlowers with a confidence more entire or more \ndeserved. \n\nGeneral Gage was reconnoitring the ene- \nmy. He handed the telescope to Willard, a \nmandamus counsellor, and inquired, '* who is \n\" that officer commanding ?\" He instantly re- \ncpgnized his brother-in-law^ Colonel PreseotL \n\" Will he fight ?\" asked Gage. ** Yes, sir, \n*' depend upon it, to the last drop of blood in \n**him, but I cannot answer for his men,\" was \nthe reply. \n\nThe sufferings of the men were great; the \nheat was excessive ; dunng a sleepless night \nthey had unremittedly labored, without even \nwater, and their small stock of provisions was \nexhausted. Their officers felt for them, and \nwished Colonel Prescott to send to Cambridge \na request to be relieved. He called a coun- \ncil, but instantly crushed the slighest hope of \na relief. \" The enemy would not dare attack \n\" them, and if they did would be defeated. \n'* The men who had raised the works were \n\" the best qualified to defend them. They \n\" had already learned to despise the fire of \n\n\n\n216 BtnnosR anx battle. \n\n^ the enemy. They had the merit of the k* \n** bor, and should enjoy the honor of the vic- \n** tory.\" With renewed ardor the men cpa- \ntinued their labors. \n\nCaptain Nutting with his company, and \nCaptain Walker with a small detachment,^ \nwere ordered into Chariestown, near the fer- \nJ^y » by Colonel Prescott, to observe the ene- \nmy's movements. \n\nGeneral Gage met his officers in council \nThey did not hesitate as to the indispensable \nnecessity of driving the enemy from their for- \nmidable position, hut found it impossible to \nagree on the mode of attack. General Clia- \nton and General Grantt advocated attacking \nthe enemy in rear. \" Their men could \n^^ embark at the bottom of the common in \n^ boats, land at Charlestown Neck, under \n\" protection of a fire from the floating batte- \n^^ ries and frigates, and would have the enemy \n^*in their power;\" and this appeared to be \nthe prevailing opinion. But General Gage \nwould not aoopt a measure sD adventurous. \nIt was opposed to every well founded military \n\n* This doubtless gave rise to Gordon's statement, tliat \ntwo regiments were in Charlestown. \n\nt Declaration of General Grant in presence of Mt. \nCotton, now living. \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 217 \n\nrule, and was in fact contrary to the dictates \nof prudence. They would expose themselves \nbetween two armies, one of tnem superior to \ntheir own in numbers, and the other strongly \nposted and fortified ; they would be attacked \nm front and rear, and in fact completely sur- \nrounded, without the possibility of a retreat \nbeing secured to them in case of disaster. It \nwas therefore determined to land and attacl^* \nIhe enetny in front. \n\nAt daybreak General Putnam ordered Lieu- \ntenant Clark to send and request of General \nWard a hori^e for him to ride to Bunker HilL \nThe lieutenant went himself, but the gene- \nTsVs impatience could not await an answer. \nOn his return he found him mounted and de* \nparting. \n\nThe result of General Gage's council of \nwar soon became apparent. The enemy were \nobserved moving with rapidity \\through the \nstreets of Boston; a coi*ps of dragoons ma- \nnceuvring within view of the Americans sud- \ndenly galloped oflF the ground ; the rattling of \nartillery carriages and wawons was hoards \nand every note of preparation for a military \nmovement. Prescott then believed the enemy \nwould hazard an attack and was in ecstasy. \n\" Now, my boys, we shall have a fiffht, and \n^ shall beat them too,'' he observed. Fearieai \n\n19* \n\n\n\n^16 BUNKER HILL BATTLB. \n\nImns^lf be thought the world so too, and Hn \nconfidence was too implicit in the raw troops \nand inexperienced commanders collectiDg, for \nas an army thej can hardly be said to have \ncollected, at Cambridge. It was nine o^cbck; \nprovisions and drink had been requested from \nGeneral Ward, but none had arrived, nor any \ntroops to replace those at the entrenchments. \nColoael Prescott called another council of \nwar; again he refused to hear a wotd as to \ndisplacing his men, but consented to send to \nGeneral Ward for refreshments and reinforce* \nxaents. \n\nMajor Brooks was selected to proceed (o \nCambridge and wait on General Ward for this \npurpose. For greater expedition he was di- \nrected to take one of the artillery horses, but \nthe order was vehemently opposed by Captain \nGridley, who feared for the safety oi his \npieces if a single horse was taken from hisa* \nPrescott then directed him to proceed on foot \nWith as much despatch as possible. He arriv- \ned at head quarters about ten, and delivered \nhis instructions to General Ward. The gen* \neral hesitated as to the policy of sending re- \ninforcements to Charlestown, and doubted \nwhether the real intention of the enemy was \nto make his attack on that point. At Caia* \nbridge and Watertown were the scanty depots \nof ammunitioQ, ordnance stores and materiel \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE* 2 Id \n\n«f every species belongifig to the army. On \nthese the salvation of the country seemed. to \ndepend, and be presumed the enemy intended \nto seize the present opportunity, to make an \nattack on head quarters, and gain possession \nof the depots. \n\nThe Committee of Safety was then in ses- \nsion in the very house in which the general \nquartered, and to them he communicated the \ninformation apd request, brought by Major \nBrooks. Richard uevens, one of the mem- \nbers, was of Charlestown. His anxiety that \nhis estate and native town should be protect- \ned from the inroad of the enemy, amounted \nalmost to phrenzy; his importunity with the \ngeneral and the committee to have ample re- \nioforcen^ents sent to Colonel Prescott was \nequally vehement and impassioned. The com- \nnuttee recommended sending reinforcements, \naod the general consented that orders should \n^o to the New Hampshire troops, stationed at \nledford, to proceed to Charlestown and re- \ninforce Colonel Prescott, and these orders \nwere immediately sent to Colonel Stark and \nColonel Reed. \n\nGeneral Warren, the Chairman of the Com- \nmittee of Safety was present. The day be- \nfore he had officiated as President of the Coq- \ngrebs at Watertown, and had passed the nighl \n\n\n\n220 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nthere, engaged in the accumulated concerns of \nthe pubhc. His friend, Honorable Elbridge \nGerry, had learned the determination to take \nand fortify Bunker Hill. He remonstrated \nwith him against the glaring impi'udence of the \nmeasure, with our defective means. \"We \n•'had not powder to maintain the desperate \n•* conflict which must ensue, and should all be \n** cut to pieces.\" General Warren confessed \nhe entertained the same opinion; but it was de- \ntermined otherwise, and he was resolved to \nshare the fate of his countrymen. His friend \nconjured him not to expose his invaluable life \nwhere his destruction would be useless and \ninevitable. *^ I know it,\" said the hero, \" but I \n\" live within sound of the cannon, and should \n*'die were I to remain at home while my fel- \n\" low citizens are shedding their blood for me \n\" and my country.\" He arrived at Cambridge \nby daylight, complained of headache and threw \nhimself on the bed. On receiving information \nthat the enemy were coming out. General \nWard sent to notify him- He jumped from \nhis bed, declared '^ his headache was gone \n*' then,\" and after meeting with the Committee \nof Safety, mounted his horse, and with his fu- \nsil and sword repaired to the post of danger. \nHe joined General Putnam, and they consult- \ncd on measures to be pursued. General Put- \nnam informed him that \" from long experience \n\" he perfectly comprehended the character of \n^ the jBritish army j they would ultimately sno \n\n\n\nBUmCER HILL BATTLE. 221 \n\n\"ceed and drive us from the works, but from \n\"the mode of attack thej had chosen, it was \n\"in our power to do them infinite mischief, \n\" though we must be prepared for a brave arid \n•* orderly retreat^ when we could maintain our \n\"ground no longer.\" Warren expressed his \nfull assent to these opinions and agreed to be \ngoverned by them. \n\nAt eleven the New Hampshire troops re- \nceived orders from Cambridge. About niteen \ncharges of loose powder and balls were dis-* \ntributed to each, and they were directed to \nform these into cartridges immediately. Few \nof the men, however, possessed cartridge box-* \nes, but employed only powder horns ; and \nscarcely two of their guns agreeing in calibre, \nthey were obliged to alter the balls accord- \ningly. \n\nAt the long wharf, in Boston, four battalions \nof British infantry, ten companies of grena- \ndiers, and ten of light infantry, were embark- \ned in boats. Some of these were taken from \ntransports, and had never disembarked since \ntheir voyage. They were now to land, not \nlike Anlaeus, to gain new strength from the \nearth, but to shed their lifers blood on her \nbosom. \n\nAbout one o'clock a lai'ge portion of these \ntroops, together with six pieces of cannon and \n\n\n\n22% BUNB^tsft Hill battle. \n\nhowitzers, landed at Morton's Point. Here \nthej immediately discovered a most disastroas \nmistake ; the cartridges sent for the use of the \nai^tillery were too large for the pieces. They \nwere immediately sent back, and a new sup- \nply obtained. At the same time General \nHowe, the commander of the forces, discover- \ning on his near approach the formidable na- \nture of the enemy's position, requested rein- \nforcements from General Gage. ^ About two \no'clock the remainder of the forces leave \nWinnisimit Ferry and land at Morton's Point; \nand soon after the reinforcements, the forty \nseventh battalion, a battalion of marines, ex- \ncept a few of this corps who were preparing \nto embark, a few companies of grenadiers and \nlight infantry, land under the •eastern end of \nBreed's Hill, at Madlin's shipyard. All these \ntroops cannot be estimated at less than five \nthousand ; if the corps were but half full there \nwere four thousand three hundred and fifty- \nWhile the enemy were landing General Put* \nnam ordered Captain Knowlton, with the \nConnecticut troops, to take post behind a rail \nfence, which ran across the tongue of land, \nfrom the road to Mystic River, a distance of \ntwo hundred and fifty yards. In front of this \nwhole line of fence was a thick orchard, and \nanother, more spare, in the rear. These \ntroops pulled up the neighbouring fences, and \nplacmg them near the one at which they were \nposted, threw in the new mown grass between. \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE* 223 \n\nPew of the fields, however, were mown, and \nthis cover was a mere shadow of a defence. \n\nThis fence was one hundred and ninety \njards in rear of the breastwork, and eighty \nyards in rear of the head or western end of \nthe slough, leaving a very extensive opening \nbetween the breastwork and rail fence, by \nwhich the left flank of the breastwork, and \ntroops resting on the slough, were entirely \nexposed to cannon shot; and a considerable \nspace, one hundred yards diagonally, between \nthe slough and the rail fence, was open to the \nadvance of infantry* This was the weak \npoint and the very key of the American posi- \ntion. \n\nThe detachments in Charlestown were now \nrecalled by Colonel Prescptt, and took post \nat a narrow cart way, which ran from the \nBoutheastern angle of the redoubt, directly \nsouth, to the narrow way round the hil). \nThey placed the fences together, and threw \nin grass, as was done on the left. \n\nThe thundering cannonade of the enemy \nsoon spread the information of an approaching \nengagement. The American citizens in the \nneighbourhood flocked to the scene, and the \nsoldiers voluntarily ran to arms, and entreat- \ned to be led against the foe. Colonel Little's \nregiment had just arrived from Essex and \n\n\n\n224 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nwere not even commissioned. Awaiting no \norders, they left their quarters in West Caift- \n'bridge, marched to General Ward and tender- \ned their services. \n\nThe Connecticut troops were equally anx- \nious to join their general ; they were all un- \nder arms, and sent to head quarters for orders. \nBut General Ward informed them they had \nalready the post of honor, for the British \nWere expected to land at Inman's farm their \npresent position. \n\nFor greater caution Colonel Gardner's re- \ngiment, and one or two others, were marched \nlalf way to Charlestown there to wait further \norders. But the enemy's intentions were now \nclearly pronounced, by their preparation to \nland at Charlestown. Orders were in haste \ndespatched to a number of infantry regiments \n-^Captain Callender's company and Major \nGridley's battalion of artillery, to proceed in- \nitantly to Charlestown to reinforce their coun- \ntrymen. \n\nColonel Prescott had stretched the endur- \nance and exertions of his detachment to the \nutmost of the human constitution. They had \nthrown up a defence good against muskets, \nand most of it against artillery. But the com- \nmanding summit of Bunker HilU of vital impor- \ntance to them in case of retreat, was not yet \n\n\n\n1R7NKBR mix BATTLB. 229 \n\nfortified. Putnam was anxious and mortified \nthat a post, on which his defeirce and reputa- \ntion so materially depended, should be entire- \nly neglected. His mother wit, cultivated in \nthe school of experience, umler British officers, \nthe most distinguished masters of tl^ day, per- \nfectly Comprehended the immense importance \nof entrenching. Me seemed to have mtuitive- \nly seized the maxims of Caesar^s learned cam- \npaigns, as well as to anticipate the scientific \nresults of such modem defences«as Generat \nJackson's. He ordered the entrenching tools \nto be carried by a large detachment to the \nrear. \n\nThe first division of the^enemy awaiting the \nremainder of the detachment, which had not \nyet embarked, were quietly dining, and most \nof them for the last time, from their crowded \nand cumbrous knapsacks. \n\nGeneral Putnam seized the opportunity of \nhastening to Cambridge, whence be returned \nwith the reinforcements* He had to pass a \ngalling enfilading fire of round, bar and chain \nshot, which thundered across the neck from \nthe Glasgow frigate in the channel of Charles \nRiver, and two floating batteries hauled close \nto the shore. \n\nAnd now the brave Stark arrived with his \nregiment. General Putnam reserved a part \n\n20 \n\n\n\n226 BUKKER HIIX BATTLE. \n\ni^ it, to throw up a work on Bunker Hill, and \nordered him to press on 'to the lines as quick \nas possible, with the remainder. They pro* \nceeded with the other New Hampshire regi* \nment under Colonel tleed, and joined the \nConnecticut troops at the rail fence. \n\nAbout five thousand Bridsh troops, and a \nnew supply of artillery ammunition, had land- \ned. Major General Howe was their com- \nmander, a d^jtinguished soldier, and like all bis \nfamily, of undaunted bravery ; under him was \nGeneral Pigot, and the other renowned chiefs \nwere, Colonels Nesbit, Abererombie, Clarke, \nMajors Butler, Williams, Bruce, Spendlove^ \nSmelt, Mitchell, Pitcairn, Short, Small, Lords \nPercy and Rawdon« The troops were in \ncolumns, waiting tke signal to advance. They \nand their enemy opposed to them were in a \nTast amphitheatre, formed by elevated heights \nwhich nse from Boston Bay, surrounding tnem \non every other side at the distance only of a \nfew miles. These heights were covered with \nAmericans, who had been brought from a dis- \ntance, by anxious curiosity, to witness a scene \nso sublime, and Jearn .the event of a contest, \non which the fate of a new world depended; \nand many of them to witness the fate of a par- \nent, brother or husband engaged. The heights \nand the steeples in Boston were similarly \ncrowded by tne inhabitants and British sol- \ndiers. Aqid many a soldier's wife witnessed \n\n\n\nBdmCfilt sntL BATTLE. 227 \n\nthe events, with a melanciholy foreboding that \nshe was left a widow, and her home three \nthousand miles across the ocean. \n\nA tremendous cannonade from Boston open- \ned on the camp at Roxburj, to contain th# \nAmericans who were there under arms. It \nadded to the continued roar of the batteries \nand shipping against Charlestown, and the bat- \ntle was commencing. It was indeed a scene \ninteresting beyond the reach of human imagi- \nnation. \n\nThe field artillerj opened on the works ; it \nwas the signal to advance. The Americans \nfaintly responded with their two small pieces. \nThey had fired a few useless shot at Copps \nHill? but there were no embrasures in the im- \n\nEerfect redoubt ; their slight platform was \nroken, and the artillery cartridges were I'e- \nserved. \n\nThe drums beat to arms. Putnam left his \nworks, commenced on Bunker Hill, and led \n\nthe troops into action. \n\n« \n\nLittle's regiment arrived ; he ordered them \nto their posts. Captain Warner's company \nadvanced to the rail fence on the right ol the \nredoubt. Captain Perkins' to the exposed po- \nsition between the breastwork and rail fence \non the left, and the remainder found th^p \n\n\n\n828 SraX£R HILli BATTtB. \n\nplaces in the line. Colonel Jonathan Brewer, \nivith his regiment, and Captain Callenderi \nwith his artifiery^ also arrived. \n\nThe veteran General Pomeroy heard the \npealing artillery, which seemed to invite him \nto battle ; he was a soldier too brave, and a \npatriot too ardent, to resist a summons so \nagreeable. He requested a horse of General \nWard, to carry him to the field ; delighted at \nan aid so important, it was instantly supplied \nWith his musket and cartridges he repaired to \nthe neck ; inquiring of a sentry posted there, \nand viewing tne ground and the tremendous 6re \nacross, he was alarmed not for himself, but for \nthe horse he had borrowed ; he delivered bim \nto the sentry, and coolly marched across. He \nadvanced to the rail fence at the left. His ap- \nproach gave new confidence to the men ; they \nreceived him with the highest exultation, and \nthe name of General Pomeroy rang through \nthe line. In early life he had been an ingeni- \nous mechanic, and many a soldier was sup- \nplied with arms of his manufacture. Had \nVulcan himself supplied the Grecians with his \ncelestial armor, and appeared in their ranks, \nihey would not have been more certain of \n'victory. \n\nGeneral Warren took^post at the redoubt. \nColonel Prescott offered him the commandf \nbut he had not yet received his conumssioDt \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. ' 228 \n\nand tendered the colonel his assistance as a \nvolunteer ; \" he was happy to learn service \n\" from a soldier of experience.'' \n\nThe columns of the enemy were advancing \nslowly, and halted at intervals, to give the ar- \ntillery an opportunity to render a passage over \nthe works practicable. General Howe, re- \nmarkably tall, and a prominent mark, advanc- \ned two hundred yards in front of the troops \nto reconnoitre. \n\nThe fifth regiment, one of grenadiers, and \nanother of light infantry, move under cover of \nthe tongue of land, at the foot of it display, \nand advance in front to the rail fence ; except \nnine of the light companies, wha move by \nthe right flank on the sliore of Mystic River \nto turn the American left. This attack was \nled by General Howe.. \n\nThe fifty second regmient, thirty efghth, \nthirty fifth, forty seventh, three grenadier and \nthree Irght companies, and the marines, under \ncover of Breed^s Hill, display, and are led by \nGeneral Pigot against the redoubt and breast*^ \nwork. \n\nThe lines advanced and soon opened to* \nview. The American marksmen are with difr \nficulty restrained from firing. General Put- \nBam rode through the line, and ordered tha4f \n\n20* \n\n\n\n230 BirNKER HILL BATTLfi. \n\nno one should fire till the^ arrived within eight \nrods, nor any one till commanded. **? iwaer \n\" was scarce and must not be wasted. They \n** should not fire at the enemy till they saw \n^ the white of their eyes, and then fire low, \n^ take aim at their waistbands. They were \n<^ all marksmen, and could kill a squirrel at \n^ a hundred yards ; reserve their fire, and the \n'^ enemy were all deitroyed. Aim at the hand- \n^^ some coats, pick off the commanders.*' The \nsame' orders were reiterated by Prescott at \nthe redoubt, by Pomeroy, Stark, and all the^ \nveteran officers. \n\nThe enemy were within gunshot of the re- \ndoubt ; a few of the sharp shooters could not \nresist the temptation and fired. Prescott was \nindignant at this contempt of his orders ; wav- \ning his sword he swore instant death against \nthe first who disobeyed again, appealed to \ntheir well known confidence in him, and pro- \nmised to give them orders at the proper tolo- \nment. \n\nThe enemy were at eight rods distance, the \ndeadly muskets were levelled, when Prescott \ncommanded his men to take good aim, be sure \nof their mark, and fire. He was efiectuallj \nobeyed. The whole front rank was swept \naway^ and many a gallant officer laid low. \nThey were, however, countrymen of those \nwho gave the fire, and received it with the \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 23 1 \n\n. saane cool courage with which it was given. \nRank succeeded rank, and returned the hre, \nbut the odds was fearful ; the Americans were \nwell protected by the works ; the efforts and \ncourage of the enemy were in vain, and With \nsurly reluctance they were compelled to re* \ntreat. \n\nWarren animated and encouraged the men, \nand with the rest of the officers, set them an \nexample with his musket ; there was scarcely \nan ofncer of any grade, except Putnam and \nPrescott, without one. \n\nPerfect as was the fire of the American \n^ infantry, their artillery was as grossly defec- \ntive in every respect. This arm requires \nscience, experience and knowledge of position. \nBut the artillery companies were Just selected \nfrom the infantry, and entirely ignorant of their \nduty. Callender carried his pieces into action^ \nbut his cartridges required adjusting. Totally \nin violation of military discipline, he left his \npost without orders, and was retiring to a se- \ncure place under cover of the hill, to prepare \nfor firing. Putnam observed this appearance \nof retreat and was fired with indignation ; he \nordered him instantly to his post; Callender \nremonstrated, but Putnam threatened him with \ninstant death, if he hesitated, and forced him \nback. His men, however, were disgusted with \na part of the service they did not understand. \n\n\n\n232 St/BkfiR HILt BAtttlU \n\nmost of them had muskets and mingled in the \nfight ; the faeces were entirely deserted, and \nthe captain relinquished them. \n\nThe British had neglected the only ma- \nnceuvre which would have defeated the ene* \nmy, to mount the works and charge with the \nbayonet The Americans had scarcely a bay- \nonet to a company, and it must have succeed- \ned. Under cover of the hill they prepared \nfor another onset \n\nTheir fellow soldiers on the right arrived \nabout the time of this attack on the redoubt \nto within about one hundred yards of the \nAmericans* They were throwing down a \nAuice, when a few marksmen fired on them. \nPutnam was enraged at this disobedience of \nan order on which the salvation of the army \ndepended ; he rode to the spot, his sword \nWhistling through the air ; in his indignation he \nthreatened to cut' down the first who dared to \nfire a^ain without orders. The discharge \nfrom tnese few muskets, however, drew the \nfire from tho enemy^s line, which continued \nmoving on, arid when about eight rods from \nthe fence, the fatal order was given ; the fire \nof the Americans mowed them down with the \nsame tremendouis severity, as at the redoubt.. \nThe efficers especially fell victims to their \ndeadly aim* \n\n\n\nBcmKER HfLi; battle; 239 \n\nDuring this tremendous fire, of musketry \nand roar of cannon, McClary's gigantic voice \n\\vas distinctly heard, animating and encourag- \ning the men as though he would inspire every \nball that sped with his own fire and energy. \n\nThe British fired their heaviest vollies of \nmusketry with admirable coolness and regu- \nlarity, but without aim, at the Americans, and \nalmost every ball passed harmless over them. \nTheir artillery had been stopped by the brick \nkilns in the low ground, and produced little \nefiect. This wing of >he army having cover- \ned the ground with their dead, were at length \ncompelled likewise to retreat ; and the huzza of \nvictory reechoed through the American line. \n\nGeneral Ward had by this time despatched \nsufficient reinforcements, but they did not \nreach the field. The fire across the neck \nwore an aspect too terrific for raw troops to \nventure in it. Putnam fiew to the spot to \novercome their fears and hurry them on be- \nfore the enemy returned. He entreated, \nthreatened and encouraged them ; lashing his \nhorse with the fiat of his sword, be rode back- \nward and ibrward across the neck, through \nthe hottest fire, to convince them there was \nno danger. The balls however threw up \nclouds of dust about him, and the soldiers \nwere perfectly convinced that he was invul- \nnerable, but not equally conscious of being so \n\n\n\n2i34 BimtER HILL BATTLE. \n\nthemselves.* Some of these troops, however, \nventured over. \n\nThe battahon of artillery under Major \nGridiey had proceeded but a few hundred \nrods (lowti the road to Chariestown when \nthey were hatted, and this officer determined \nnot to proceed to the hill but wait and cover \nthe retreat, which he considered inevitable. \nHe was young and inexperienced, and totally \ninadequate to the important command which \nhad been conferred on him in compliment to \nhis father. Colonel Gridiey. He was con- \nfounded with the dangers and difficulties of \nbis situation, and never recovered his self \npossession during the day. \n\nWhDe the artillery was halted in this situa- \ntion, Colonel James Frye, (who was absent \nfrom his regiment on duty the day before, but \nthe battle approaching, had found his way to \nthe field,) riding from Chariestown galloped up \nto them and demanded of the senior captain,t \n\" why. this unseasonable halt !\" He was aston- \nished at the reply, and ordered them instantly \nto theiield. This veteran also animated their \ncourage by the glorious recollection \" this day \n\n* The principal fact here is proved by tiie deposition \nof Mr. Samuel Bassett ; the o^er circumstances by ond \ntestimony. \n\nt Yet living, and from whom we have this anecdote. * \n\n\n\nBinVKSR HILt BATTLE. 235 \n\n** thirty years since, I was at the taking of \n*' Louisbourg when it was surrendered to us; \n** it is a fortunate day for America, we shall \n•* certainly beat the enemy.'' \n\nThe artillery proceeded. Gridley joined \nthem ; but his aversion to joining in the en- \ngagement was invincible, and he ordered them \non to Cobble Hill to fire at the Glasgow and \nfloating batteries. The order was so palpably \nabsuro, with their three pounders, that Cap* \ntain Trevett absolutely refused obedience, \nordered his men to follow him, and marched \n\nfor the lines. \n\n« \n\nMajor Gridley was sensible his artillery \nWould be hazarded without infantry to cover \nthem. Colonel Mansfield had been ordered \nwith his regiment to reinforce the troops at \nCharlestown, but being peremptorily com- \nmanded by Major Gridley, whom he consid- \nered high military authority, to cover his \npieces, he compliea in violation of his ordera \n\n* \n\nGeneral Putnam lefl the neck for Bunker \nHill to bring up the reinforcements. He there \nfound Colonel Gerrish with his regiment and \nsome other scattered troops. Tne colonel \nhad been a captain in the provincial army of \n1756; he was of unwieldy corpulence and a \ndisposition by far too quiet for a soldier^s. \nIJe had marched his men rapidly frcmi Cam- \n\n\n\n296 teKKER HILL BATTLt. \n\nbridge, and unwkelj halted them here to vest \nThe blazing sun and tremendous fire of the \nenemj combined were far too powerful fcff \nthe faintness of his militarj ardor to overcome. \nThe men were disorgani^d and dispersed on \nthe west side of the hill, and covered by the \nsummit from the fire. Putnam ordered them \non to the tines ; he entreated and threatened \nthem, and some of the most cowardly be \nknocked down with his sword, but all in vain. \nThe men complained they had not their offi- \ncers ; he offered to lead tnem* on himself, but \n•* the cannon were deserted and they stood no \n** chance without them.'' The battle indeed \nappeared here in all its horrors. I'he Brit- \nish musketry fired high and took efiect on \nthis elevated hill and it was completely ex- \n\nEosed to the combined fire from tbeir ships? \natteries, and field pieces. \n\nThe enemy were by this time organi26d \nMfew and were again advancing to the attack. \nPutnam's duty called him to the lines. At \nthip time Captain Ford appeared with bis \nIbompany. He served in a regiment under the \nVeteran Lieutenant Colonel Parker and Major \nBrooks. Of them he had learned the duties \nof a soldier. He had already signalized him- \nself at Lexington battle by killing five of the \nenemy. His orders were to proceed to the \nlines and reinforce the troops ; he obeyed, \nmarched unconcerned across the neck and \n\n\n\nBimKfiR mix BATTLE. 2S7 \n\nwas proceeding down Banker Hill, when \nPutnam was delighted with an aid so oppor- \ntane. Callender s deserted cannon were at \nthe foot of the hill ; he ordered Captain Folrd \nwith his company to draw them into line. \nThe captain remonstrated ^' bis company were \n^totally ignorant of the discipline and em- \n\" ploya]Miit of artillery.'' But the general per- \nemptorily persisting m his order, he obeyed; \nhis company moyed with the cannon ana the \ngeneral himself to the rail fence. \n\nThe heroic enemy with unwavering step \nand firm undaunted bravery appeared again \nbefore the murderous lines which had already \ncompelled them to i^ treat. They had nearly \nthe same obstacles to overcome as befpre. \nTheir cumbrous knapsacks, tall and almost \nimpassable grass, ana a torrid sun blazing in \nface of them they had to contend against, as \nvrell as an enemy ev^ry wav worthy ot them. \nOne new obstacle they had to pass, tlie dead \nbodies of their fellow soldiers which covered \nthe ground. But this served rather to stimu- \nlate them to still more daring efforts to re- \nvenge their fcdl. The la^t of the reinforce- \nments, a few companies of marines, arrived on \nthe left \n\nThe Americans were now more confident \nand perfect than, before in a manosuvre which \nhad bwn crowned with success. It was in- \n\n21 \n\n\n\nIMS BtnCRfiR mix BATTLE. \n\ndeed perfect! J Mmple, but eqcmtty fatal (o tbe \nfoe. rbej received orders to reserve dieir \nfire till the enemy approiu^hed still nearer \nthan before* At six rods only they were peri> \nmitted to return ^ firew The mitish art^ \nlery approael^ by the narrow road betwe^ \nthe tongue of land and Breed's Hill, with'm \nthree hundred yards of the rail £M^e,apd \nalmost in a line with the redoubt, and opeped \non the^ lines to prepare arway for their ior \nfantry. The latter commenced a regular, and \ntremendous volley by platoons, and their fire \nsoon became general, ^t unfortunately for \nthem, though perfect in driU diseipline, and \nregular movements of parade, they were ac \ngrossly unskilful in wiiat wae a thousand timies \nmore important, a knowledge of tbcir wea- \npons. Their aim was too elevated, and the \nenemj^ were hidden behind their works. Some \nof their halls however took eBecU and a few of \nthe privates fell viotiips. The bravo Major \nMoore was mortally wpunded. Major Buoi- \nminster received a bail through the shoulder \nand was cnppled for^ fife« \n\nTo add new horrors to the scene, Tast col- \nttmns of smoke were now observed ov^ \nCharlestown, and l^issed to the south over \nthe American lines. General Howe on his \nfirst advance had sent word to General Bur- \ngoyne and General Clinton on Copps Hill, \nthat his left fiaidc was ftnn^yed by musketiy \n\n\n\nfrom Chaiiestowiii» and ordered them to bum* \nit down. A carcaies was fired^ but fell stvort \nnear the ferry way ; a second fell in the street, \nand the town was on^^ fire. The confla^ \ngration was completed by a detachment of \nmen who landed from the Somerset. The \nwhole town was combustible. The flames as- \ncended to heayen on the lofty spire of the \nchurch, and resembled the etup^ions of a vast \nTolcano in solemn grandeur and sublimity. \nThe advance of ihe enemy was not obscured \nby the smc^efrom Chariestown $ they were in^ \nmil view of the Americana. Putnam now, \nWith the dsi^istance of Captain Ford^s compa- \nny, opened his art^lery upon them. He had \non this day performed the service of generaly \n^gineer ano guide, and he^iow turned can- \nnonier, with splendid stieeess^ and to the high- \nest satisfaction of bis sutrounding countrymen. \n\\ElAch company of artillery had but twelve \ncartridges, and these were soon expendcfd. \nHe pointed the cannon himself, the halls took \neffect on the enemy, and one case of canister, \nmade a lane through them. As in Milton's \nbattle, \n\n\" Foul dissipation followed and forced rout.\" \n\nWith wonderful courageThowever, the enemy \n\nclosed his ranks, and the fire became general \n\n. on both sides. The Americans suffered the \n\nenemy to approach still nearer than before ; \n\n\n\n240 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nmen Itnd officers feit in promiscuous heaps ; \nVfhole front ranks of them were swept away. \n\nGeneral Ward was without staff officers to \nbear his commands, excepting one aid and a \nsecretary, who performed the duty. During \nthe whole day these were mounted and on ftm \nspeed betweefn Breed's Hill and head quarters. \nLoss and neglect of order's were the inetlta- \nble consequence. Colonel Gardner's regi- \nment and others who had been posted between \nCambridge and Charlestown, to wait forther \norders, were overlooked. The battle was \nraging, and no orders arrived. The coldnel \nwas a gentleman of rank, had been a member \nof the legislature, and commanded a regiment \nof militia, wbioh, marching to Lexington to \njoin in the engagement there, suddenly open- \ned on the British artillery; being entirely void \nof cover they dispersed. His gallant soul felt \ntheir conduct as a stigma on himself, and he \nresolved on the earfiest opportunity to wipe \nthe spot from his escutcheon. A glorious oc- \ncasion was before hkn, and he panted to em- \nbrace it — to reap the honors of victory, or \ndeath and lasting fame. The latter fate was \ndecreed him. He called to him his officers, \nand offered to lead Them into battle ; most of \nthem with three hundred of his men followed \nhkn. He led them over Bunker Hill, viewed \nwith unconcern the battle scene on the hill be- \nfore him, terrible as Mount Sinai, and with \n\n\n\nm»a£&R mUk B4X«dL 241 \n\n\n\ne&gafipemeDlv wbeii a muaket ball entered his \ngroin^ and the wbUbd proved mortaU Hegafd \nhui inte his IbbI soieoiQ inuiiietioDvto ocmquet \nw ^, and vtM oairried off the field. He sood \nBMii Ckptaia Trevett adTancing lirith bis artil* \nlerj, and an interesting and heroic interview \nensued between the colonel and Captain Tre- \nfett^fl second lieutenant Gardner^ nis bod, a \nmhtb joath of oineteen* The aon was in ago^ \nQj'ltt the desfierate sftuatioti of. his father^ and \nwoilU have atteaded bkm off the grotkd. But \nAm colonel prdhifcited thos. ^^ He shduld not \n^ be iilannea at hift situiition^ he was eogMed \ni^inh good c»tKaand miUBt ni£Ut:h on aula do \n^ hie duij«'' The detracted sto obejed^ and \nhis dying father had. the ccoiaoliatioti to leara \ndmt hifr last: iejonctiiio: tod ghirioud example \nwere not los;^; and that his son wbb. worthy \nei bias. \n\ni \n\nThese reinforcements, with Captain Clark: \ngnd'Gaptainis Chester modMOoiti who soon fol- \nlowted with dieir Mfia()aabs^ tap()liifed the \npUoes-df UiMO whblMulfCSfiended tnetrjtmihii^' \nIskkKl «nd left tfae:grbi»d, tod of the detecfa<^ \nmeat sbut effll^th the ^ntfeteUiog teiola^ whe^ > \n\nin ^toteiapi of .thciir ofdeiv^ nerer i Totatned^ . \n\n■ » I . .. . , , . , \n\n\" The>Bii£sh :hftd a longitime boriie^the mar* \ndfe^rbib fire of4he ^lenfj^ hot their, aatinisfa^- \n»ag fbnitadtt'Wniit dstiMg eflBbrts were .useless • \n\n£1 ♦ \n\n\n\n8tt BOlOCEil MILL BATPUL \n\nBgtiost the insQperable difteidties tbey eneoufi^ \ntered. ^Nearly a thousaad q£ their Domber \nhad falleot with an kicnMHble proportioB of \nthe bravest officers. Tim distii^uished OA* \nenels Aberorombie and WilliamS) and Major \nSpendIo?e, had purdiased fame with their \nKres* \n\n.Th» gallant Mau)r. Smdl was left ataadiog \nalone^' every one shot down ajoout hisi* The \niie?er erring om^ets were, lei^ed at hiaiy \nand asddfer's fate was his ineivitable destiofi \nhad not Putnatn at the kuitaat ajMpeared. \nEach reoognised in. the other an oia friend \nand fellow seedier; die tie was sacred; Putnam \ntbre# up the deadly mosl^ta with his swofdt \nand arrested ha fate. He be^^^ hb men to \nsj^poff that officer^ as dear ^ to htmi as a brodier. \nThei^neralV humama iand chi^^lrous gene^ \nrositj excited in them new admiration^jttd his \nfriend retired unhurt. \n\n\n\nif \n\n\n\n-. The^andieMinted/Howe'Stiirredon hk tiaea \ninithe hottest of the faal)de. ; His. friend and \nvolunteer aid, Gordon, and C^ptmi Add»ony a \n^»ti»idaiit fiwnr the author of the Spedaki^ \nisfive (^M^ and! alaiofit eviei^ other officer of \nhis . stafi)t)r; near bimi was shot. Morti£^ and \nmdignant at so much blood wasted in yain^ \nke .aeemed' to : oouitt- im . hondnibla^ deAth to \nhide hisB frinnthe di^raoe of ^ jseooiklde^fiBAlt \n^ aeueaoB^ he despi^ as ^eaiailits. md: p^ \n\n\n\nMVKmJl BOX BATTUE 2^ \n\nbels* His life seeined charmed, and he was \neampelled to iollow his army, who again re- \ntreated and left their enemy to taste^ a second \n-time^ the joys of victory. \n\n. The exultation of the Americans was glori- \nous and well deserved, but it was, alas, short \n.lived. They had leisure to realize the entire \nbopelessnras of their i sitimtioo. Their aiKuoii* \n'niUon was eipended^and they were ^ .<le$^ \n.ttiAe of every ofG^sive weapon as the naked \nsavages, their predeceasiMrs* Prescottt found a \nfew artillery cartridges, which he distributed \n'to bis men, and they determined to show a re- \naokite front to the enemy, tp dub their mu9* \nJk^tA, and even emp^y the stones, thrown up \n.with. the parapet against: tbwu Their oply \niiofiGf however, was iram a waat of. /prttt^nil^ \n.m.tbe e^)mily,iafid that they had twioe tlH(i \ndday proved was slender indeed. \n\n\n\n. . General Howe gave his men orders |o prer \n^piure agamrto advance. Some of tki^'pm^rf^ \ndemonstrated, that it iif ould be mere bqt^yf \n»to<ldad vtbcm on again, but th^ generaj^i aa^ \nji^arly ewy officer, were ji]|(tignaatratt>a>4tfl{p \ntant suspicion of their yielding. tHe^lUc^tgry7/^> \nthese rebels, an undisciplined rabble, of inferior \njpumbers,.after all tbmr boasting,^dj»ft(»p|hey \nJhad rpoured out every epithet oft; c|^^^0 \nagainst .thffiik Toc900(ciiie]|^{Qi;{die...WM i^bw^ \n\n\n\n\n\n\n!M4 WmEttR BILL AATTIS. \n\nBteody expmenee at ktt opened f heir eyife \nto their egi^gious errors. Their dyerwecfwie \n•cimficleiice Was laid aside, and a calculated, \ndeliberate and judicious pla/n &[ attack adopt- \ned. The overloaded knapsacks were relin- \n-quTsbed i firing whh musketry was prohibited, \nand a charge tvith the bajronet resorted to. \nThe attack wa6 to be ihore eonoentrMed; \nirhile thir timops at the mil fence were anmd- \n€d hy » show of force, the ^f«ii|i effi»rt waii to \n))e against the t^d^nbt ^Mia iN-eeatwoidc, ^ \n^rtioslariy the riglM flafik. \n\nThe accohipKshed and chivalrous GtneMl \n-Clinton now joined and brought bis apltodU \nIttletits into tile eountil, ^ hia disdaguMuid \n^giAantry into^ th^ field. IdMqsdkte and tfl- \n^XMUceivable Was the scnisalion his apfjiaran^ \n|nr6ddMd ai tfaistnoii^ntdf «keftpiBlw^aMtoh^« \nFrom Copps ti^\\ he had obten^edwith ^ittfc \nand indignation the double rout of his country- \n«ef), ^dd portiOQlarly that the twd dbttaguld^- \n«id biiMaliena^ tile marims and Alrty^ sleuth, \n^ere stA^dmd ind wavtai|^ With^t wmt- \niffg feir oraetsv'lte ^Hraw bknodf latD ia bbol, \n-]^s«d«Vef^ Midi soon. brMthed iptotbeofUs \n<i>wr«tsdled!h6Mkbiai ... \n\n\n\n' I < 1 • ^ > \n\n\n\n\\ OrMe^l Howe « third tiiM <^tiiiiidikled' t \nIS»)»Wtvnl ni^4me«f tor soate the- imakB and \n1^ Mthe'i^emy witliithebayoMtu.Heoatii^ \nto the left to lead on to the redoubt liiliidelf^ \n\n\n\nBUNKER BILL BATTLE. 245 \n\nClinton joined iGreneral Pi^ot and the marines \non the left to tnrn the right flank of the ene- \n^J* The artillery were ordered to advance \nstill farther than before on their old rout^ and \nturn the left of the breastwork to rake the \nline. General Howe at last became sensible \nthat this was the most vulnerable point and \nhey of tho enemy^s position. \n\nThe Americans made every preparaUon \npossible to repel the last desperate effort of \nthe enemy, rutnam again rode to the rear^ \nand exhausted every art and effort to bring on \nthe scattered reinforcements. Captain Bay- \nley, only, of Colonel Gerrish's regiment, ad- \nvanced to the lines, and Captain Trevett now \narrived at the rail fence with his pieces. \n\nThe enemy stripped off their knapsacks, \n«nd many of them their coats ; the artillery \npushed on by the road on the north, the forty \nseventh and marines near the road on the south \nside of the hill, and the remains of 4he royal Irish \nand other regiments, and* part of the grena- \ndiers and ^ight in&ntry in front. Their past \nefforts had exhausted the strength and spirit \nof many of the men who lingered in tlie rear, \nand their gallant officers were compelled to \nurge them on with their swords. Some of the \nless resolute fired their pieces, but the great \nmasses obeyed their orders, and with firmness \nmoved on to the charge. They arrived under \n\n\n\n246 mmgasK tfitt WlTt^js. \n\nthe fire of the Ainerioans, who improved l& \nndrantage their last opportanity for yciv- \ngeance. Erery shot took eflfect. The gallant \nHawe at la«t receired a ball in the foot, where \nonly like Achillee he seemed to be vulnerable, \nbut continued to aimuate his men. \n\nA few only of the Americans had a ch^ge \nof ammunition remaining. They had sent lor \na supply in y&in ; ft barref and a half only were \nki the magaetfie. They retried nest t^ stotiesv \nhut these served ooly to^ betray their VHS^k^ \n««s, and lent new Jergy to thi foe. \n\nThe artillery advanced to the open sptice \nbetween the breastwork and rail fence ; this \nground was defended by some brave Sssel \ntroops, covered only by scattered trees. With \nresolution and deadly aim they poured the \nmost destructive volltes oa the enemy* Tbfe \ncannon, however, turned the breastwork, en- \nfiladed the line, and sent their balls through \nthe open gateway or sally port, directly into \n^e redoubt, under cover of which the troopi \nat the breastwork were compelled to retii^. \n\nThe enemy bravely bore the deadly fire, \nand continually closing his broken ranks, de- \nKberately advanced on every i^ide of the re- \ndoubt except the north. They were now un- \nder the eastern side of the redoubt and cover- \ned from the fire. The Americans retired to \n\n\n\n\\ \n\n\n\nJ \n\n\n\nBCKXBR ROL BA'MLSi S4T \n\n\n\n^6 side oppoaite to teke thma u ikfcj roise. \nJLi^utefMOit Prescott, a nephew of tbe ccdooelt \nteoeived a ball through toe arm ; it hgog brot \nken and useless bj hifrside. The oolooel pr^r \nlierod him to content hiniaelf with encoura^-r \niog his men. But he contrived to load his \npiece, and was passing by the sally port to \nrest against the enemy, when a cannon ball \ncut him to pieces. \n\nYoung Richardson of the royal Iri^bt I^M \nthe first to mount the weeks, end was iost^tv \nly shot down ; the front rank which suoceeded \nshared the same fate. Ammig the^ mounted \nthe gallant Ms^or Piicaim, and exultin^ly \ncried '^ the day is ours,^' when a hlabk SQl4ief \nearned Salem,^ shot him through and he felL \nHis agonized son received him in his arm^aoiti \ntenderly bore him to the boats. lit wQs h# \nwiio caused the first efiusion of blopd at Le^r \nington. In that battle his horse was shot uor \nder him, while he was separated from his \ntroops ; with presence of mind he feigned him- \nself slain; bis pistolsf were taken from hip \nholsters, iand he was left for deaci, whep hf \nseized the opportunity and escaped^ \n\n^ A contribution ^aa m94e ia the amy for this sol- \ndier, and he was presented to Washington, as having \nperformed this feat. \n\nt This trophy afterwards belonged to General Put- \nnam, and yet remains in h}s family, from whon> we have \nthe above anecdote* \n\n\n\n248 BUVKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nThe hercnc but diminutive Pigot ran up the \nsoutheast corner of the i^doubt, Bssiste<jl by a \ntree left standing there, and desperately led \non his men. Troops succeeded troops over \nthe parapet, and Pr^scptt exhausted every re- \nsource to repel them, even with the huts of \nhis guns. \n\nBut he had now his last . great victory to \nachieve, to which all his past toils, dangers \nand privations, were nothing. He had twice \nconquered the enemy; he had now, a more \ndifficult task, to concfuer himself, to bend down \nhis lofty soutl^ and turn his back to the enemy* \nPerfectly careless of his own life, he had no \nright to trifle with the lives of his men. It \nwas a sacred deposit they had entrusted to his \nhonor, a bond which he nevjsr forfeited. In- \nstead of an useless waste of life, with a '^ nil \n\"desjperanctum,^' he quelled his revolting spirit \ntmdf ordered a retreat. \n\nGeneral Ward bad gratified at last the ar^ \ndent wishes of the Connectjput troops to join \ntheir beloved general. Captains Chester, \nClark and Coit were on the ground with their \ntroops, and Major Durkee's impatience had \n'before this brought him mounted to the field, \nto join his old commander and comrade of for- \nmer wars. PutnamV imagination had already \ninscribed- the victory of Bunker Hill on his \ncoat of arms, when a dark cloud flew across \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 249 \n\nthe brilliant prospect. The retreat of the \nright wing burst upon him. \n\nThe gallant veteran Gridley now received \na ball through the le^, and was carried off. \nHe had served all nignt at the entrenchments, \nand had all day assisted in defending his own \nworks, and proving their excellence. \n\nPrescott^s troops fought their way through \nthe surrounding enemy. The veteran Captain \nBancroft was charging his piece, a British \nsoldier leaped from the parapet, touching him \nas he came to the ground, and levelled at him; \nthey fired together ; the captain tore him to \npieces and escaped unhurt. One of the men \nwithout ammunition perceived Lieutenant \nPrescott's loaded musket by its deceased mas- \nter ; a Briton obstructed his passage ; seizing \nthe loaded musket he brought his antagonist \nto the ground. \n\nColonel Bridge, who came with the first de- \ntachment, was one of the last to retreat, and \nwas twice severely wounded, in the head and \nneck. His lieutenant colonel, the veteran \nPaiker, who had escaped through the whole \nwar of 1756, in which he had signalized him- \nself, and especially at the desperate sieee of \nFort Frontmac, received a ball in the thigh, \nand was left mortally wounded in the re« \ndoubt \n\n22 \n\n\n\n\"250 BUNKER HILJL BATTLIU \n\nThe chivalrous Warren lingered to the last \nHis exalted spirit disdained as a disgrace a \nretreat the most inevitable. He animated the \nmen to the most desperate daring ; and when \nhope itself had fled, he still disdained to fly. \nWith sullen reluctance he followed his coun- \ntrymen, and seemed to court that ball from \nthe enemy, which a few yards from the re- \ndoubt, passed through his head, and secured \nto him the eternal gratitude of his country- \nmen, and immortal fame throughout the world. \n\nSmall here repaid the debt of gratitude he \nowed the enemy. He recognized Warren, \nbis intimate friend, as he was leaving the re- \ndoubt^ called to him for God^s sake to stand \nand save his life ; he turned and seemed to \nrecognize him, but kept on. Small command- \ned the men nol to fire at him; be threw up \nthe muskets with lus sword, but in vain, the \nfatal ball had sped. \n\n. The €iiemy came on, exhausted by ; their \ndesperate e£^rts, under a blazing sun, and \nbroken by the well directed fire. They had \nnot force io employ the bayonet, and were too \nmuch broken and mingled with the enemy to \nfire their pieces. Their right and left wings \nwere indeed facing each other, with the Aoier- \nicans between ; their fire would have cut down \nboth friend and foe^ While they formed them- \nselves anew, the Americans collected, and \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 251 \n\nBoade a brave and orderly retreat. Putnanr \nput spurs to his foamiug horse and threw bim* \nself between the retreating force and the ene- \nmy, who were but twelve rods from him ;* hit \ncountrymen were in momentary expectation \nof seeing this compeer of the immortal Wap- \nren falL He entreated them to rally and re- \nnew the fight, ta finish his works on Bunker \nHill, and again give the enemy battle on that \nunassailable position, and pledged his honor \nto restore to them an easy victory. Captain \nSmith of General Ward's regiment came with \nhis company t^ reinforce, joined in the retreat, \nand assisted to keep the enemy at bay. \n\nThe Americans had retreated about twenty \nrods before the enemy had time to rally and \npour in a destructive fire on them, which des- \ntroyed more than they had lost before during \nthe day. Colonel rrescott's adjutant was \nshot and crippled, Captain Dow, of his regi- \nment, was also crippled by a wound in the leg', \nand Captain Bancroft had a part of bis hand \ncarried off. \n\n\n\n* Deposition of Lyman, then a lieutenant, and pre- \nsent, and Miner, a private in the same company. This \nis confirmed too by the testimony of a distinguished offi- \ncer of the revolution, yet living, who had served with \nGeneral Putnam in the French war, and was present him* \nself and badly wounded. \n\n\n\n252 BUNKER HILL BATTLE^ \n\nThe American left wing were openly con- \ngratulating themselves on their victory, when \n. their flank was opened by the retreat of the \nright. The enemy pressed on them, and they \nwere in their turn compelled to retire. Put- \nnam covered tlieir retreat with his Connectir \ncut troops, and dared the utmost fury of the \nenemy, m the rear of the whole. These pur- \nsued with little ardor, but poured in their \nthundering vollies, find showers of balls fell \nlike bail around the general.\"^ \n\nHo addressed himself to every passion c^ \nthe troops, to persuade them to rally, to throw \nup his works on Bunker Hill, and make a stand, \nand, as the last resort, threatened them with \nthe eternal disgrace of deserting their general. \nHe tool^ bis stand near a field piece, and seem- \ned resolved to brave the foe alone. His, troops, \nhpweyer, felt it impossible; to withstand the \noverwhelming force of the British bayonets ; \nthey left him* One sergeant only dared to \n9t£\\nd by bis general to the last ; he was shot \ndown, and the enemy's bayonets were just \nupon the general, before ho retired* \n\n\n\n■^ This fact we have from a respectable friend^, who \nwas present and yet lives, Philip Johnson, Esq. of New- \nburyport His honor and veracity is surpassed by no \nman*s^ See also deposition of Captain tuUs, then eiw \n9igntoKnQwlton^ \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 253 \n\nGeneral Pomeroy continued to animate the \nmen, and cut down the enemy himself, till a \nwell hove ball shattered his musket. The re- \ntreat* having commenced, he disdained to turn \nhis back; but with backward step and lower- \ning front shouldered the fragments of his piece, \nand carried off his men, encouraging them to \npour in their formidable fire on the enemj. \n\nCaptain Trevett, like Callender, was de* \nserted by his men. His lieutenants, Swasey \nand Gardner, stood by him, with but seven \nothers, one of whom was Moses Porter, al- \nready a promising artillerist. He persuaded \nabout thirty of the infantry to join in savinj \none of his pieces, the other he was compelled \nto abandon. A British company noticed the \npiece, and determined to seize the prey ; they \npursued, on the top of Bunker Hill were with- \nm thirty yards of them, levelled their muskets \nand fired. The captain gave up all for lost, \nwhen but one dropped dead, and anothec \nwounded, the remainder rapidly descended- \nthe hill,^ and carried off with honor the only \npiece saved out of six taken to the field. Gen^* \neral Putnam ordered it to Cambridge. \n\nThe Charlestown^ company of Colonel \nGardner's regiment wa's the last to retreat. \nThey were fighting at their own doors, on \ntheir own natal soil. They were on the ex- \ntreme left, covered by some loose stoneab \n\n22* \n\n\n\n254 BCmKEH HlLlf BATTIA \n\nthrown up on the shore of Mjrstic Rhrer, dur- \ning tiie daj, by order of Colonel Stark. At \nthis most important pass into the country^ \nagainst which the enemy made their most des* \nperate efibrts^ like Leonidas^ band they had \ntaken post, and like them they defend^ it^ \ntill the enemy had discovered another. \n\nOne piece of cannon at the neck opened on \nthe enemy and covered the retreat. But these \nwere in no condition, and discovered no incli- \nnation to renew the engagement, or pursue \ntheir advantage, except by a formidable can« \nnonade from their field pieces. They remain* \ned on Bunker Hill, and lay on their arms dur* \niog th^ night. The same was done on Win^ \nter Hill by the New Hampshire troops, and \nby the rest of the Americans on Prospect Hillf \ndirectly in face of the enemy. \n\nMajor Brooks was retained at Cambridge \nby General Ward, till the last reinforcements \nwere sent to Charlestown, when l^ marched \nwith the two remaining companies of his regi- \nment, and met at the neck the Americans re- \ntreating. \n\nBenjamin Thompson, better known as \nCount Rumford, attended him as a volunteer. \nHe was assisting the army by his mathemati- \ncal learning, his estimates and surveys, but \nhad solicited an appointment ia yain^ and had \n\n\n\nSUNKER HI&L BATTLfi. 255 \n\nmade great but fruitless interest for the com- \nmission in the artillery which was bestowed \non Major Gridley. For this gross injustice \ndone to his distinguished ment, his country \nsuffered well deserved punishment in the mis^ \nconduct of his rival, and by the final loss of \nhis services, except what they received, in \ncommon with all mankind, from his splendid \nphilosophical discoveries, his glorious and \nbeneficent political labors. \n\nMcClary, as attentive to the wants of hii \nmen as desperate in fighting them, galloped \nto Medford and returned with dressmgs for \nthe wounded. He ordered Captain Dearborn \nto advance toward the neck with his compa* \nny, whilst he crossed over to reconnoitre the \nenemy. He was returning with Lieutenant \nColonel Robinson and others, and boasting \nthat the shot commissioned to kill him was \nnot yet cast, when a cannon ball from the \nGlasgow tore him to pieces. No smaller \nweapon seemed worthy to destroy the gigan- \ntic hero. \n\nThe veteran Gridley entered his sulky at \nBunker Hill to be carried off. The enemy \nperceived the prey, shot his horse and riddjea \nthe sulky with balls ; but their rage was im- \npotent; meeting some obstruction m the road!, \nhe had left t|ie carriage a moment before. \n\n\n\ni \n\n\n\n2b6 BUNKER HILL BATTLfi. \n\nPrescott repaired to Cambridge, furious as \na lion driven from his lair, foaming with in- \ndignation at the want of support when victory \nwas in his grasp, — a victory dearly purchased \nwith the precious blood of his soldiers, family \nand frienas. He demanded but two fresh re- \ngiments of General Ward, and pledged his \nfife with them to drive the enemy to his boats. \nHe had not yet done enough to satisfy him- \nself, though lie had done enough to satisfy his \ncountry. He had not indeed secured final \nvictory, but he had secured a glorious immor- \ntaUty. \n\nTwo young men in Boston were employed \nto take the wounded from the boats to the \nhospitals. A youn^ lieutenant, shot through \nthe body, was carried by them in a chair to \nhis encampment. Passing the streets, pale \nand faint with loss of blood, he attracted the \nhumane and generous compassion shown by \nthe inhabitants to the wounded ; enmity for- \ngotten, they were all at their doors with re- \nfreshing dnnk for them. \n\nAt the encampment they met Captain Pit- \neairn, covered with blood. Struck with the \nappearance, the lieutenant inauired of him the \ncause, but his grief was too big for utterance, \n** vox faucibus haesit.\" A sergeant informed \nhim, the captain^s father was shot at the: \n\n\n\nBt;NKeR HILL BATTLE* 257 \n\nbreastwork, and the captain carried him to \nthe boat, where he died m his arms. \n\nThe hospital was established in a different \nplace, to wnich they repaired, and witnessed \na scene to melt the most obdurate enemy. \nThe hospital and even the yard was overload- \ned with wounded, praying m vain for the sur- \ngeons to arrest the current of life, fast ebbing \nfrom their wounds, but which, from th© \nnumbers, it was impossible to dress. \n\nLoud and melancholy wailings for the dead, \nfrom widows of the common soldiers^ were \nheard in every street, and struck on the heart \nof the passenger. \n\nThe number of the Americans during the \nbattle was fluctuating, but may be fairly es- \ntimated at little more than two thousand men. \nTheir loss was one hundred and fifteen killed, \nthree hundred and five wounded, and thirty \ncaptured, in all four hundred and fifty.* The \nfollowing is the loss of the respective corps : \n\n^ Regiments. Killed. WouDdecU \n\nColonels Stark and Reed 15 45 \n\nCi>Wnel Scammons £ \n\n' Gerrish 3 2 \n\nWhitcomb 5 8 \n\n\n\n^ Brewer 7 11 \n\n\n\n* Qeneml Ward*? orderly book. \n\n\n\nKilled. \n\n\nbounded. \n\n\n7 \n\n\n23 \n\n\n6 \n\n\n7 \n\n\n\n\n\n4 \n\n\n15 \n\n\n3Q \n\n\n1 \n\n\n6 \n\n\n16 \n\n\n29 \n\n\n42. \n\n\n28 \n\n\n15 \n\n\n31 \n\n\n3 \n\n\n10 \n\n\n1 \n\n\n5 \n\n\n\n\n\n9 \n\n\n\n258 BUNKER HILL BATTtE. \n\nRegimenti. \n\nColonel Little \n\n■ Gardner \n■ Gridley \n\nGeneral Putnam's reguncn^ 1 \nCaptain Coit and y \n\nCaptain Chester's companies J \nGeneral Ward \nColonel Bridge \n\nPrescott \n\nFrye \n\nNixon \n\n■ Woodbridge \nDoolittle \n\nProvincial ^ewspapetf Judy 15, 1775. \n\nThe British loss was one thousand and fifty \nfour, including eighty nine officers ; of these \ntwo hundred and twenty six were killed, in- \ncluding nineteen officers, and eight hundred \nand twenty eight wounded^ seventy of whom \nwere officers. The fifth regiment had one \nofficer killed, the fourth one, twenty second \none, thirty fifth two, thirty eighth one, forty \nthird one, forty seventh three^ fifty second five, \nfour of them were the highest officers of the \nregiment, and the only pain they expressed \nfrom their wounds, was from having received \nthem through the back. The sixty third had \none killed, sixty fifth one, sixty seventh one, \nmarines six, and General Howe^s aid de camp. \nThe fourth regiment had four wounded, fifth \nseven, tenth nve, fourteenth one, eighteenth \none, twenty third four, thirty fifth three, thir- \nty eighth nine, forty third three, forty seventh \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 259 \n\nfive, fifty second five, fifty ninth one, sixty \nthird two, sixty fifth four, marines twelve, \nPage, of the engineers, and Jardin, secretary \nto General Howe. All the grenadiers of one \ncompany were shot storming the works ex- \ncepting five, and these were led on by the \nolaest soldier. The grenadiers of the Welsh \nfusiliers were reduced to eight, and twenty \ntwo out of thirty nine grenadiers of the filty \nsecond regiment were killed.^ \n\nIn this battle the British gained a nominal \nvictory, but the Americans the only prize con- \ntended for ; they destroyed entirely the phy- \nsical and moral force of the British army, im- \nprisoned them within their narrow lines, and \nprevented their excursions. The enemy nev- \ner after recovered their enterprise and confi- \ndence in America, and by this single battle \nthe final success of the American revolution \nwas secured. \n\n\n\n* Gentlemen'd Magasune for 1775, and Essex Gazettiv \n13 July, 1775. \n\n\n\ni \n\n\n\ny \n\n\n\nSUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER. \n\n\n\nGeneral Ward received from the General \nCongress the appointment of first major gene- \nral and second in command of the American \narmy. X)n the arrival of General Washington \nat Cambridge, he assumed the command of \nthe right wmg at Roxbury, and his general \ndisposition of the troops about Boston was \nsanctioned by the approbation of the comman- \nder in chief.* From extreme ill health, he \nresigned his commission in April, 1776; but \nnotwithstanding his resignation was accepted, \nat the earnest request of Congress and Gen- \neral Washington, he continued in command, \nnear Boston, until the 20th of March, 1777. \nHe w8tB afterward a member of Congress un- \nder the old confederation and present consti- \ntution, and died in 1800, aged seventy three. \n\nThe life of General Putnam has been de- \ntailed by abler hands. \n\n* Marshall, vol. £, p. 242. \n23 \n\n\n\n262 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\nGeneral Thomas was appointed first brig- \nadier general under the tJnited States, in \n1776 was appointed major general, and on the \ndeath of Montgomery repaired to Canada to \ncommand the American forces before Quebec. \nTheir situation was nearly desperate ; but he \nwas too adventurous to relinquish the enter- \nprise without one attempt to secure thei fa- \nvors of fortune. He endeavoured to bum \nthe enemy's naval force before the city by a \niire ship, mtending to attack the place dunn^ \nthe conflagration ; but the fire ship miscarrieo, \nand the general was compelled to order a re- \ntreat, during which he died of the small pox \n,at Chamblee. \n\nGeneral Pomeroy expressed his strong \nsense of the blindness of fortune, that, of the \ntwo volunteer generals in the battle, Warren, \nthe joMg and chivalrous soldier, the eloquent \nand enligntened legislator, should fall, and he \nescape, old and useless, unhurt. From age \nhe declined the honorable appointment of \nbrigadier general of the United States army, \nand retireid from service. But, like the vete- \nran war horse, when the echoes of his majestic \nConnecticut rang with the clarion of battle, \nhe spumed the peaceful retreat whicii his \nlong life and long services demanded. He \npreferred even a regiment to inaction, and as \na colonel marched to join the kindred spirits \nwho composed our army in the Jerseys.* His \n\n\n\nBITintER HILL BATTLE. 263 \n\nExposures produced a pleurisy, which proved \nfatal at Pecksklll in New York, where his \ncountry owes him a monument, and bravery \nand patriotism perennial fame*^ \n\nWhen Putnam was ordered on what may \nwell be styled a forlorn hope, to land at Bos- \nton with a detachment, in face of tb^ army \nand batteries of the enemy, Colonel Prescott \nsolicited of him the honor of participating the \ndesperate undertaking. But heaven frowned \nat an excess of presumption which her past \nfavors had encouraged; a violent hurricane \narrested the enterprise. \n\n\n\nN \n\n\n\nThe colonel continued in the service of the \nUnited States, accompanied General Wash- \nington to New York, and on the disastrous \nretreat through the Jerseys, he alone was \nable to keep his men in the ranks. They \nproved themselves worthy the hero of Bunker \nHill, kept the enemy in respect, were exhibit- \ned to the army as an example worthy imita- \ntion, and the colonel received the cordial \nthanks of Washington in general orders. \n\nIn 1777 he, with a corps of volunteerst join- \ned General Gates, and served with him till \nvictory crowned our arms, and Burgoyne's \nwhole army was the trophy. \n\n\n\n204 BUNHBR RILL BATThn* \n\nWhen peace enaiied, he became a Bdember \nof the legislature, aod in 1787 distinguished \nhimself as a magistrate as he had in 1775 as a \nsoldier. From the miseries and poverty \nwhich succeeded the war, many of the sufier- \ners were driven to oppose the course of legal \nftutboritj. The enlightened patriot employed \nhis potent influence to stay the tempestuous \nWaves of insurrection. He collected bis \nfriends and proceeded to Concord armed to \nprotect the court in session there a^inst the \nconsfuratof s^ He lived to advanced age, and \nwe are happy to add he teas a christian. \n\nThe veteran Colonel Joseph Frye,* who \nhad served in the war of 1756, was at the \nsiege of Louisbourg, and taken prisoner in \nFort William Henry, immediately after the \nbattle the 21st June, was appointed major \ngeneral by the Provincial Congress. He serv- \ned some time in the revolutionary war^ and \nKved to a very advanced age, at Fryeburgh, \nwhich received its name from his family. \n\nColonel Gardner lived a few days after the \nbattle, and on being asked if he was well \nenough to see his son, '^ yes,'' answered the \nhero, ** if he has done his duty.\" Being in- \nformed that he had distinguished himself, he \n\n* Brother of Colonel James Fiye* \n\n\n\nBimKER HULL BATTLE. 2€& \n\nsaw bim^ and died with the glorious coDsola* \ntioD of leaving the invaluable legacy of his \nown fame and nis countrj^s gratitude to a son \nworthj to support /the honors of bis name. \n\nThe life of Major Brooks since the battle of \nBunker Hill has been far too distinguished in \nthe military and poUtical history of America \nto be noticed satisfactorily in a supplement. \nSome biographer may hereafter confer on the \npublic, a oonation worthy their gratitude, a dis- \ntinct account of this herf> and statesman. But \nthis cannot be anticipated till the last enemy \nof man has overcome the amiable modesty, for \nwhich he is equally distinguished as for all hia \nhigher excellencies, and the requisite informa- \ntion be obtainetd from his papers which ha» \noften been solicited in vain from Himself. \n\nWhen General Washington arrived at \nCambridge his regiment was distmguished for \nthe superior discipline he had introdxiced, and \nGeneral Gates pronounced him one of the \nfirst disciplinarians in service.. He was ap- \n\nSymted first inspector of the army under the \naron Steuben, and afterwards adjutant gene^ \nral for the army on the North River. \n\nHe was distinguished in nearly all the im-^ \nportant battles of the revolution. He was ia \nthe battle on Long Island with the reinforce* \nment, and in that of White Plains. Histarw \n\n23* \n\n\n\n266 BinfKKR mLL BATTtfi* \n\nhas recorded htm among the most distmguis&^ \n^ commanders of the army n^hich achieved \nthe eonaaefit of Bui^yne, aod he was in ^ \nbattle Of Moinmoufh as adjutant gii^eral. \n\nFrom their earliest aeqiraintaaee be was a \njfavorite of Washingtonf enjoymg his mH£c>rm \niriefidfthip^ and was honorably distinguished^ \nby his selecting him, ^mong the seveii generaU \nof his choice^ to sei'Ve with fakn in 1798. \n\nDuring the last war he had the superintend* \ntoee of the milFtta of Massachusetts, directed \nthe forces wfth admh*ajble skill, and secured \nthe \"country from inroads of the enemy. \n\nFor some years he has been elected gover- \nnor and commander in chief of the Common^* \nwealth of Massachusetts, by the voice of the \n}>eople, to the universal satisfaction of all par- \nties. Over the liberties and free constitutions \nhe establtished as a warrior, he now presides \nas a legislator with distinguished ability. \n\nThe brave Knowkon, from the first mo- \nftteot of the battle to the latest period of the re^ \ntreat, showed.bimself worthy the distinguish-^ \ned honor of being selected as the first among^ \nthe Connecticut captains. \n\nHe afterwards received the commission of \nKeut^iant colonel, and at the battle c^ Hai4em \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE* 267 \n\nHeights, was sent by Washington to get into \nthe enemy's rear ; a bloody action ensued ; \nKnowlton and his men fought the whole force \nof the enemy, of vastly superior numbers, be- \nfore the Americans could attack in front, and \ngot the better of them. He restored by this \ngallant a£&ir a glorious moral force to the ar- \nmy nearly extinguished by disasters; but it \nwas at the expense of many brare men in the \nunequal contest ; his assistant ofiicer. Major \nLatch, was slain, with three balls through him, \nand he himself reaped immortal honor and im- \nmortal life together. \n\nWashington paid due honors to bis memory \nin general orders, and declared, ^^ he had died \n\"a glorious death, which every soldier ought \n^' to wish for, and would have been an honor \n** to any country on earth.\" \n\nThe same indignation felt by Colonel Pre$«- \n€ott, at the loss otthe battle, was general in the \narmy, and throughout the country ; a scruti- \nny, most severe and unrelenting, was instituted \ninto the conduct of every one, to bring con- \ndign punishment ^n those whose misconduct \nh^ caused the final issue. Even Colonel \nBridge, notwithstanding the severity of hie la- \n.bors,and the dangerous and honorable wounds \nhe received) had to pass the ordeal of a court \nmartiaL \n\n\n\n268 BUNKER HULt BATTLE. \n\nNotwithstanding this inquisitorial research^ \nwe are happy to add, out of near three thou- \nsand, who, at diiSferent stages of the battle, \nmust have been engaged in it, and most of \nthem for the first time, four onl j were discov- \nered guilty of misconduct. Of these, Major \nGridley was tried for neglect of duty. Briga- \ndier General Green bemg president of the \ncourt, ^hich ** find him guilty of breach of \n^^ orders, and therefore dismiss him from the \n^ Massachusetts service; but on account of his \n\" inexperience and youth, and the great confu- \n'^ sion which attended that day^s transaction io \n\" general, they do not consider him incapable \n'^ of a Continental cotnmission, should the gen- \n^^ eral officers recommend him to his Excet* \n\" lency.'' \n\nColonel Mansfield was obviously guilty of \nan error only arising from inexperience. Two \nonly were found guilty of cowardice; of these \nColonel Gerrish was certainly guilty of a want \nof military ardor and activity, but this was a \nconstitutional defect. He was not accused be- \nfore the committee of Congress by General \nPutnam, and, in the opinion of the very re*- \nspec table judge advocate who tried him, and \nwho yet lives, he w5as far too harshly treated. \n\nThe only officer apparently guilty of cow- \nardice, Captain Caliender, is a glorious in- \nstance of the buoyancy of real New England \n\n\n\nBUNK£R HILL BATTLB^. 269 \n\nheroism, and the redeeming efficacy of a pure \nconscience, a mind conscious of rectitude. \nThe furious denunciation of Putnam, the con- \ndemnation of the court, and thundering pro- \nscription of Washington, would have crushed \nany one forever, who was armed with a pano^ \nplj less divine. \n\nA committee of Congress was appointed to \ninquire into the truth of a report, that some \nomce]*s of the army had been guilty of mis- \nconduct ; they report, that they had made in- \nquiry of General Putnam and other officers, \nwho were in the hottest of the battle, and that \nthe general charged Captain Callender and \nanother artillery officer, with infamous cow- \nardice, one of the principal causes of the de- \nfeat, and informed them that he would quit \nthe service if these officers were not made an \nexample of, and that one of them ought to be \nshot. The court martial condemned Captain \nCallender, and General Washington approved \nthe judgment, \" not only from the particular \n\"guilt of Captain Callender, but the fatal \n\" consequence of such a conduct to the army, \n\" and to the cause of America in general.'' \n\nNotwithstanding this, our hero resolved to \ncompel the world to acknowledge, by his fu- \nture conduct, that his past had been mistaken. \nHe continued with his corps as a volunteer, \nand desperately exposed himself in every ac- \n\n\n\n270 BUNKER HILL BATTLE. \n\ntion. The brave and beneficent General Knoii \nextended to him his friendship. \n\n• \n\nAt the battle on Long Ishand, the captain \nand lieutenant of the company of artillery, \n'with which he served, were shot ; he assumed \nthe command, and fought the pieces to the \nlast; refused to retreat, and the bayonets of \nthe soldiers were just upon him, when a Brit- \nish officer, admiring his chivalrous and des- \nperate courage, interfered and saved his life. \n\nGeneral Washington expressed his high ap- \nprobation of his conduct, gave him his hand \nwith his most cordial thanks; ordered the sen- \ntence of the court martial condemning him, \nto be erased from the orderly book, and re*- \nstored to him his commission. He held his \ncommission during the war, and left the ser- \nvice at the peace, with the highest honor and \nreputation. \n\nCaptain Dearborn was afterwards highly \ndistinguished during the revolutionary war \nfor his bravery and enterprise. He volunteer- \ned at the head of a company of men, selected \nfrom the regiment to accompany Arnold, in \nthe winter of 1775, throiigh the trackless \nwilds, to Quebec; an enterprise, which, in dar- \ning, hardihood and courage, is not surpassed \nby the immortal passage of the Alps by Han- \nnibal. He was major of a battalion of light \n\n\n\nr \n\nr \n\n\n\nBUNKER HILL BATTLE. 271 \n\ninfantry at Saratoga,'and his services were ac- \nknowledged bj Gates in the highest terms of \napprobation. Cilley's regiment, of which he \nwas Heutenant colonel, was the most distin- \nguished corps in the battle of Monmouth, and \nthe salvation of the army was owing to their \nheroic courage. General Washington ac- \nknowledged the service, and sent to Inguire \nwhat regiment it was. \" Full blooded yankees \n*' by . . . . . sir,\" was the answer of Dearborn. \nHe was afterwards secretary at war appoint- \ned by Mr. Jefferson ; and during the last war \nwas the first major general and senior oj£cer \nof the American army. \n\nPorter, the promising artillerist, who stood \nby iiis piece and his captain to the last, has \nsince then risen through every grade of office \nto the rank of brigadier general in the army, \nto which he has ever since belonged ; and has \nmaintained an uniform and distinguished repu- \ntation as one of the first artillery officers in \nservice. The important post of Norfolk was \nentrusted to his command the last war, and he \nis now stationed at Boston in command of the \nvery district which he so bravely contributed \nto defend in 1775. \n\nGeneral Howe, notwithstanding liis wound, \nremained on the field the whole night, watch- \ning the enemy vs movements, and protecting \nhis own position ; supporting himself against \n\n\n\n272 BUNKER HILL BATTIX. \n\n€mne bay, he ordered his atteiklants to pre* \nvent him from falling asleep. \n\nThe morning after the battle, a yoone gen- \ntleman from Boston went on the ground, and \nrecognized the body of Warren, and mention- \ned the fact General Howe would not credit \n(he account ; it was too improbable that the \npresident of Congress was in the battle. One \nof the most eminent physicians of that or the \npresent day, and yet living in Boston, was on \nthe field ; he had gone over during the battle \nto dress the British wounded, and was yet \ndressing them and the wounded American pris- \noners, with his usual humanity and skill. Gen« \neral Howe asked him if he could identify Doctor \nWarren 4 he recollected the doctor had lost a \nfinger nail and wore a false toodi, and inform- \ned the general that Doctor Warren had five \ndays before ventured over to Boston in a ca- \niioe to get information, invited him to join the \nAmerican troops as surgeon, and informed \nliim that he was himself td receive a commis- \nsion in the army. General Warren was in- \nstantly recognized, and Howe declared this \nTictim alone was worth five hundred of his \nmen. \n\n\n\nBUKKER HILL BATTLE. 273 \n\n\n\nOmitted pages 92 and 93. \nImmediately after the battle, the rank of \nmajor general was conferred on Colonel Grid- \nley. \n\nAmerica commenced her revolution with* \nbut four pieces of cannon, and to his mechani- \ncal science and in^nuity she was indebted \nfor the first mortars and cannon ever cast ia^ \nthe country. \n\nAflter being confined $ome months by his' \nwound, he repaired to Cambridge and- super- \nintended the tortifications erecting, round Bos- \nton. On the 4th March, 1776, be was again> \nengaged in erecting fortifications in the nighV \nand the address, saence and prodigies of la>- \nbor, displayed at Dbrchester Heights, were \n\nEirhaps never exceeded, except on Breed's> \nill. These works expelled the enemy from^ \nBoston. General Gridley fortified the heights^ \nof this place and the islands in the harDor,* \nand General Washington urged him to ac- \ncompany the army, but his advanced age for- \nbad. He retired! on half pay. Id 1795 he \nassisted in laying the comer stone of the^ \nstate house, aa he had m 1775 to lay the- \ncomer stone of the state, and lived' in re- \nmarkable health to the age of eighty six, a^ \nmodel of courtliness, beneficence and hospit- \n\n24 \n\n\n\n274 Bm9KER HILL BATYLC^ \n\ntality, as well as all the high perfections of a \nsoldier. \n\nColonel Stark will be recc^ised as the he- \nro of Bennington* but it is not so generally \nknown that he employed an ingenious and \nHUccesfiful expedient to strike a panic into the \nenemy and assist him in achieving his glorious \nvictory. He had one iron cannon, but neither \npowder sufficient to employ it, nor balls ; he \nordejed an officer, however, to charge it, who \nobjected the want of balls ; \" no matter,\" said \nthe colonel, ^^ load it with blank cartridge, and \n^^et the discharge be the signieil for all the \n** troops to rush on the enemy.\" The Hes- \nBians were panic-struck at the thundering re« \nport, his troops rushed on with loud hurras,, \nand the victory was complete^ \n\n\n\nE RR A7 A« \n\n\n\nPage 272, line 4, after ^^ gentleman from \nBoston'' add thefolhmng note. \n\nGeneral Winslow, yet living. AfV)ther \nfriend of the author, yet living, was v^ithin \nsix feet of Warren when he fell, and received \nhimself a ball through the thigh. « \n\nPage 183, 1. 17, read Major Box, an experi- \nenced, &c^ ^ P. 202, 1. 2, for defence, read \ndefensive. P. 211, L 17, for side, on front, \nread side, or. front. P. 222, 1. 4 from bottom, \nfor spare^ read sparse. P. 233, 1. 14,ybr huzza, \nread hurra. P. 263, I. 2, for Peckskill, read \nPeekskill. P. 267, 1. 1 1 ^for Latch, read Leitch. \nP. 189, i. 4 from bottom, omit his. P. 199, \nL 3 from bottom, omit and. P. 272, L 3 \nfrom bottom, ybr Howe, read the enemy. P. \n183, 1. 18, /or two, read four. P. 221, 1. 19, af^ \nter Boston, insert the principal part of. Same \n\n()age, 1. 28, erase a large portion of. P. 258, \n. 1 5^ for Provincial, read Providence. P. 257^ \nL 22, after killed, add and missing. \n\n\n\n276 BUNIER HIU BATTLE. \n\nWe neglected to mention that Honorable \nJames Wmthrop, and James Swan, Esquire, \naccompaiiie4 tm reinforcements to Breed's \nHill, with their muskets, as volunteers, fought \nvaliantly, and the former was wounded \n\n\n\nNote. The author was necessarily absent \nfrom town during the whole time IM work \nwas in the press. \n\n\n\nTHE END. \n\n*MWMn«MMNMOT.M \n\n\n\n","title":"An essay on the life of the Honourable Major General Israel Putnam","updated_at":"2026-09-05T09:58:23.632299Z","urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:an-essay-on-the-life-of-the-honourable-major-general-israel-putnam","version":1,"withdrawn_reason":null},"urn":"urn:lemay:boston:document:an-essay-on-the-life-of-the-honourable-major-general-israel-putnam","version_history":[{"change_note":"accessioned from the Internet Archive, item anessayonlifeho02cincgoog","changed_by":"archive-ingest 0.1.0","recorded_at":"2026-09-05T09:58:23.925218Z","version":1}]}