Up the westerly slope of Concord Hill, an elevation named after her sister town, marched the British. Their ranks were broken and disordered. Many had been wounded, many had been killed, and many had fallen exhausted by the wayside. It was then about half past one o'clock, and they had marched rather more than twenty-three miles. At that time their ammunition began to give out, which added to their discomfiture. Their enemies seemed to be countless and everywhere. De Bernicre, the spy, who was with them, has left a vivid word picture of how anxious they were getting. "There could not be less than 5,000," he says in his account, "so they kept the road always lined, and a very hot fire on us without intermission.... We began to run rather than retreat in order." Lieut.-Col. Smith, says, in his report, that the firing on his troops, which began in Concord, "increased to a very great degree and continued without the intermission of five minutes, altogether for I believe upwards of eighteen miles."
Such was the impression on the minds of Smith, and his weary soldiers as they hurried along down Fiske Hill and up Concord Hill. If he entertained any idea of surrendering, though I have no evidence that he did, he must have realized the hopelessness of that, for no one seemed to be commanding the multitude before him, beside him, and behind him. They constituted a large circle of individuals, but made no attempt to stay his march or guide it in any way. They just followed along, seemingly intent only on hunting down the King's soldiers. Had some master mind been in charge of the patriot army, Smith's entire force could easily have been taken prisoners. But this was the first day of the war, and was only a contest between soldiers and citizens. And so Smith was allowed to march along.
Near the foot of the westerly slope of Concord Hill stood the home of Thaddeus Reed.[244] He was one of Captain Parker's Company. After the British passed along the Americans picked up three severely wounded soldiers and carried them into the house, where they all died. They were buried not far away, a few feet westerly of Wood St., on the northerly side of a stone wall still standing, and but a few rods from Battle Road. Their graves are unmarked and almost unknown.[245]
The British flankers were now so thoroughly tired out that they could hardly act in that capacity, and were of but little use as protectors of the main body. The severely wounded were abandoned to some extent. Many of the slightly wounded were carried along somehow, but they greatly impeded the march. Hopes of reinforcements were practically abandoned.[246]
And so they proceeded up the hill, the summit of which is fully forty feet higher than Fiske Hill and at least eighty feet higher than Lexington Common,[247] now in view less than a mile away. They must have been anxious to reach and pass that little field. Down the easterly slope of Concord Hill they almost ran, in more or less confusion and intense excitement. The Americans were actively keeping up their firing, and so more Britons were killed and wounded, three of the latter so severely that they were abandoned by their fellow soldiers, fell into the hands of the Americans and were taken into Buckman Tavern.[248] One subsequently died and was buried with the British slain in the old cemetery near by. Their graves are unmarked.[249]
The British did not stop to disperse any rebels on Lexington Common, for none were there to oppose their retreat, but passed off the southeasterly point, as the Americans came promptly after them on the northwesterly side. It was between two and three o'clock when they reached the site of the present Lexington High School, a trifle more than half a mile from the Common. There they met the long-wished for reinforcements, under Lord Percy, who opened his ranks, and enclosed them in his protecting care. Many sank immediately into the road where they halted, for their physical condition was pitiful in the extreme. One of the contemporary English historians, an officer in the British Army in America, has described them as lying prone on the ground, like dogs with protruding tongues.[250]
Percy then quickly wheeled about his two field pieces,[251] and opened fire up the road, towards the Common, where he could see the Americans were gathered. It was not fatal in its effect, but served to scatter them and do considerable damage to the meeting-house, one ball passing through it. Col. Loammi Baldwin, of Woburn, was one who had been standing in sight of the British, but he sought shelter behind the sacred edifice when he realized the enemy had opened fire with artillery. When a ball passed through the meeting-house and came out near his head he retreated northwesterly to the meadow.[252]
Not many of the Americans had been killed thus far, in the retreat of the British through Lexington. We have spoken of James Hayward of Acton, killed on the easterly side of Fiske Hill, and must add the name of Deacon Josiah Haynes of Capt. Nixon's Sudbury Company, who met his death somewhere along the road from Fiske Hill to Lexington Common.[253] He was a venerable man, in his seventy-ninth year,[254] and had marched from his home down to Concord village, up through Lincoln, and into Lexington. He was thoroughly in earnest in his work of driving the British back to Boston, and in an unguarded moment exposed himself to one of the King's riflemen.
On the Lexington part of Battle Road, many British were killed and many wounded. Among the latter were Lieut. Hawkshaw, Lieut. Cox, and Lieut. Baker, all of the Fifth Regiment; Ensign Baldwin and Lieut. McCloud, of the Forty-seventh Regiment; and Captain Souter and Lieut. Potter of the Marines.[255] I have previously mentioned the wounding of the commander, Lieut.-Col. Smith, on the westerly slope of Fiske Hill.
After the British had departed from Lexington immediate attention was given to the Lexington patriot dead who were slain on the Common in the early morning. From the field of battle they had been borne to the meeting-house, and there a simple service held over them, consisting of a prayer by Rev. Jonas Clarke. Then they were carried to the little church-yard, where one broad grave received them all. It had been a day of terror in Lexington, and some fear was felt that the enemy might return and wreak yet further vengeance, even upon the dead. So the grave was made in a remote part of the yard, near the woods, and the fresh mound of earth itself hidden beneath branches cut from the neighboring trees.[256] And not forgotten three score years later, their grateful fellow townsmen removed their remains to the field where they died, and erected a monument to their memory.