"Old Put" the patriot

by Frederick A. Ober

It was a very good showing for green troops, that which told the respective losses of British and Americans: more than a thousand of the former, as against less than five hundred of the latter. Each side lost, in killed and wounded, about one-third the total number of its men, for the British brought about four thousand five hundred troops into the field; while the Americans in active conflict, including such reenforcements as reached the hill, scarcely exceeded fifteen hundred.

A very good showing, a "great victory"—yet purchased at fearful cost to both sides. A host of British officers, many of them bearing names distinguished for valor and honorable lineage, went down before the volleys of the Provincials, while the latter had also a sorrowful tale to tell. Warren had fallen, one of the last to leave the redoubt; old Pomeroy had his musket shattered, but drew off in good order, taking it along with him for repairs; McClary was killed by a cannon-ball, while boasting that the shot was not cast that would end his life; and so the story went.

One of the strangest happenings was the end of Major Pitcairn, who had ordered the first shots fired at Lexington, and who, one of the first over the redoubt, was killed by a negro soldier named Salem, falling into the arms of his son. It came about, some time after, that the pistols he had carried at Lexington (which were taken from his holsters when his horse was shot under him, and he lay on the ground feigning himself dead) were presented to General Putnam. He carried them through all his subsequent campaigns, and at present they may be found in the custody of the Library at Lexington.

One field-piece only was saved out of six guns taken by the Provincials into battle, and it was near the last one left in the field that the enraged Putnam took his stand, between his retreating men and the advancing foe, until "his countrymen were in momentary expectation of seeing this compeer of the immortal Warren fall."

That was Putnam: one of the first in the field, the last to leave it. We have seen (as all his biographers and many historians have agreed in stating) that he took a most active part throughout, exposing himself continually to the shots of the enemy, guiding, directing, leading; and that no man's commands were so eagerly received and so promptly obeyed as his. And yet there are cavilers who have raised the question as to whether he or Prescott commanded at the battle of Bunker Hill—as though it mattered much. Both were sons of Massachusetts, and Putnam an adoptive son of Connecticut, fighting on Massachusetts soil.

It is certain that neither he nor Prescott gave a thought to this matter, especially at the time the balls flew thickest.[2] They may have had differences of opinion, as, for instance, when Putnam attempted to take away some of Prescott's men from the redoubt to throw up earthworks on Bunker Hill. Subsequent events proved that Putnam's scheme of defense was the right one, and only lack of time and men prevented its being carried out.

[2] "Putnam," says Irving, in his Life of Washington, "also was a leading spirit throughout the affair; one of the first to prompt and the last to maintain it. He appears to have been active and efficient at every point, sometimes fortifying, sometimes hurrying up reenforcements; inspiriting the men by his presence while they were able to maintain their ground, and fighting gallantly at the outpost to cover their retreat."

As soon as once assured that the defeat of the Provincials was overwhelming, Putnam lost no time in entrenching at Prospect Hill, the first spot at which he could halt his fleeing troops. Here he stayed, working like a beaver and digging like a badger, and this strategic position, which he had seized and selected almost intuitively, he continued to occupy until appointed to the command of the center division of the army at Cambridge, where, on July 2, 1775, he for the first time met General Washington, who had come with his appointment as Commander-in-Chief recently received from the Continental Congress.

Not long after formally taking command of the army, beneath the historic elm at Cambridge, Washington made a tour of the fortifications and was astonished at the progress Putnam had made at Prospect Hill, as well as at the military skill he had shown in taking and fortifying it. Two days later he presented him with his commission as a Major-General in the Continental Army, which had been unanimously bestowed by Congress on the 19th of June, two days after the battle of Bunker Hill, and which he received on the 4th of July. Putnam's commission was the only one then presented in person by Washington, though three others had been appointed major-generals under him: Lee, Ward, and Schuyler. A great deal of jealousy and heart-burning resulted from the appointments, one of the brigadiers, General Spencer, over whom Putnam had been advanced, threatening to resign.

In these days began the friendship which existed between the Commander-in-Chief and Major-General Putnam during the remainder of their lives. Putnam's honesty, industry, frankness, and integrity interested General Washington, who was delighted with this bluff old soldier who wore his laurels so modestly. "You'll find," wrote a contemporary to a friend, "that Generals Washington and Lee are vastly fonder and think higher of Putnam than any man in the army; and he truly is the hero of the day!"