"I am here," he said to General Putnam, "only as a volunteer. Tell me where I can be most useful."
And to Colonel Prescott he said:
"I shall take no command here. I come as a volunteer, with my musket to serve under you."
And there he fought during the three onsets, cheering the men by his coolness and confidence. He was one of the the very last to leave the redoubt. When he had retreated about sixty yards he was recognized by a British officer, who snatched a musket from a soldier and shot him. The bullet entered the back of his head. Warren placed his hands, as if mechanically, to the wound, and fell dead upon the hot and dusty field.
The enemy buried him where he fell. Nine months after, when the British finally retreated from New England, his body, recognized by two false teeth, was disinterred and honorably buried. He left four children, of whom the eldest was a girl six years of age. Congress adopted the eldest son. Among those who contributed most liberally toward the education and support of the other children was Benedict Arnold, who gave five hundred dollars. A little psalm book found by a British soldier in Warren's pocket on the field is still in possession of one of his descendants.
CAPTAIN NATHAN HALE, THE MARTYR-SPY.
General Washington wanted a man. It was in September, 1776, at the City of New York, a few days after the battle of Long Island. The swift and deep East River flowed between the two hostile armies, and General Washington had as yet no system established for getting information of the enemy's movements and intentions. He never needed such information so much as at that crisis.
What would General Howe do next? If he crossed at Hell Gate, the American army, too small in numbers, and defeated the week before, might be caught on Manhattan Island as in a trap, and the issue of the contest might be made to depend upon a single battle; for in such circumstances defeat would involve the capture of the whole army. And yet General Washington was compelled to confess: