The British carried the greater part of their wounded, but the dead were left in the road behind them. At Lexington, Lieutenant-Colonel Smith was shot in the leg. Here, also, the British found that their ammunition was fast failing; the men were growing so fatigued as to be almost unfit for service; confusion began to grow among them and their officers were compelled at times to threaten them with drawn pistols, to keep them in order.
Under the murderous fire sustained by the Americans the column was at last halted and formed into a hollow square to await the reinforcement which Colonel Smith had sent for at daylight. It was here that Lord Percy, at the head of three regiments of infantry, two divisions of marines and carrying two field-pieces came upon them, harassed, worn and almost upon the point of surrender. Percy himself had had no easy time in advancing to the rescue. He had found the planks of the Cambridge bridge taken up to delay his crossing the river; then the patriots had cut off his provision train and left his men to the hunger of the march.
At once the field-pieces began to play upon the colonists; houses and other buildings were fired wantonly in Lexington, others upon the route of the retreat, now resumed, were broken into and plundered.
Dr. Warren had joined the patriots just before the arrival of Percy; and in the midst of the party that came with him the boys were delighted to find the Porcupine, perched upon a tall horse and with a huge pistol in his belt. At sight of them he grinned and smoothed back his stiff crest of hair.
“Had quite a time getting here,” said he, “but it’s worth all the trouble. I’ve always wished I’d have a chance to get in the first fight, and I hope it’s come true!”
“You’re here in time,” said Nat, with a laugh. “The troops that have just come up look fresh and full of spirit, so it is not all over yet.”
But though Lord Percy had almost two thousand men in all, he showed no disposition to do anything but get safely back to Boston. Dr. Warren rallied the patriots, who had been shaken by the cannon, and they pressed relentlessly after the invaders.
“Keep up a brave heart,” said Warren to the riflemen. “They began it; but see to it, lads, that we end it.”
Through West Cambridge they fought. Again the British ammunition ran short, and the field-pieces became silent. At Charlestown the main body of the patriots hung upon their rear and another force was marching upon them from Roxbury, Dorchester and Milton.
It was sundown when the harassed column staggered down the old Cambridge road to Charlestown Neck, fighting every step of the way, but glad to find protection at last under the guns of their ships of war. Out of gunshot, the provincials halted; but there they hung like a cloud, ominous and dark in the twilight. Next day the shattered battalions crossed into the city; and at once the Americans tightened their line; at once the work began of making the militia and the minutemen a compact fighting machine of the sort whose operations would spell victory.