The reminiscences of the veterans go so far in this direction as to border even on injustice to the army, if they do not make it a mob. Thus, Gen. Dearborn states that "nothing like discipline had entered into the army," and Mr Thaxter, whom Mr Swett likes as an authority, writes severely on this point. He says:—"As to military discipline and command (in the battle) there was none; both officers and men acted as volunteers, each one doing that which he thought right." * * "At that time our army was little better than a mob, without discipline, and with little command till General Washington came, and Gates, and gave it some regularity." It would be quite easy to increase quotations of this character. But this will answer. It conveys a very incorrect idea of the army to say that it was a mob, but it is as incorrect to say that it was regularly organized and consolidated.
7. Mr Swett, p. 16, writes—"We are delighted to discover, at last, something amusing in one of the author's mistakes. He says Putnam had the command of a regiment, because he was complimented with the empty title of colonel of a particular regiment," &c. &c. And then follows nearly a page of matter in which "signing humble servant" in letters, "the king of Prussia," "the virgin Mary," "wolves heads," figure, along with surmises about my "hallucination," and my ideas about "the odd notion" of "perdition," and of "the head of the wolf Putnam slew." Here, as usual all through the pamphlet, if I am quoted at all, it is with gross injustice. But what is all this for? What is the offence? I am really at a loss to know what it is. On page 100, the action of Connecticut is stated, and that the regiments of Spencer and Putnam, and part of Parson's, were ordered to Cambridge. Will this be contested? On p. 168, it is stated that Putnam "was in command of the Connecticut troops stationed at Cambridge," and in another place are specified, the regiments and parts of regiments that were here. Will this be disputed? Again, I state, p. 168—"No service was more brilliant than that of the Connecticut troops whom he (Putnam) was authorized to command." Again, p. 188—"The Connecticut forces at Cambridge were under the command of General Putnam." Is there any thing wrong here? What is there then so amusing? What has drawn forth nearly a page of such attempt at ridicule? Is it that I name the undoubted fact from the records of the Connecticut assembly, that General Putnam had a regiment? Has Mr Swett forgotten how he commences his own account of the battle? His first paragraph, p. 18, reads—"The same order issued for one hundred and twenty of Gen. Putnam's regiment, and Capt. Gridley's company of artillery with two field pieces;" a statement, by the way, nearly all wrong: for "the same order" for Prescott's, Frye's, and Bridge's regiments to parade (see Fenno's MS. Orderly Book,) 1, did not embrace the Connecticut men; 2, nor Gridley's company; 3, there were two hundred men; and 4, they were not all taken from "Putnam's regiment"—four errors in less than three lines! But to return. Once more I ask, what is the mistake I have committed about Gen. Putnam's regiment? What is there so amusing? Where is the point of the ridicule?
Mr Swett throughout his pages has much matter rather personal, which may pass for what it is worth. He supposes how I would write on "chemistry" and "astronomy;" he compares me to a character Colman has in his "Broad Grins," and to a clergyman "fulminating" against the "flaunting top-knots our foremothers wore;" and he accuses me of mooting questions "on a par with that of free agency or the origin of evil." It is not, however, necessary even to specify other such matter. He makes President Adams, Sen., and Judge Tudor, after failing "so egregiously" on a certain question, jump into a "quickset hedge," and ascribes to me a power of following them with my "eyes shut." I feel honored in being put in such society, and as yet suffer no inconvenience from the place we occupy. But one remark I protest against. On p. 10 he says we are writing on a subject technical, and "concerning which both of us confess we know little or nothing." Here I claim at least the privilege of the dying. Positively, Mr Swett has no authority to act as my confessor. And how a person, who, in 1818, stated that "from his attention to military subjects," he consented to describe the battle, and who since, has had a thirty years' study of it, can in 1850 "confess" that professionally, he knows "little or nothing" about it, seems "most inconceivable."
The errors that have been examined appear to be the most material which Mr Swett has specified, though he names others, and even grows desponding over their number. He remarks, p. 10—"We have made the supposition of the author's fundamental error being solitary; but errors, like misfortunes, never come alone. The lost traveller who wanders from the right road enters a boundless field of aberration, and at every step plunges deeper into a chaos of mistakes." The right road in this case is probably the beaten path of Mr Swett's history, and every step from it is aberration and a plunge deeper into "chaos." The reader can judge of the nature of some of these mistakes. Others are of like character. It is however, entirely inadmissible that facts resting on contemporary documents are to be proved errors by the recollection of aged people. Is it not a waste of words to refute charges based on this sort of proof? I have aimed to give a faithful relation of facts, and on this score fear no investigation and ask no quarter. But more of this in another place.
But in spite of this endeavor to state things exactly, it would be strange indeed if the "Siege of Boston" did not contain errors, for what book is without them? As yet none of much importance have been pointed out, though I should thank any one who will inform me of such as there are and should be glad to correct them. Two may be here acknowledged: one on page 135 where "to a slough," should read "towards a slough." I regret to have met with no particular contemporary description of the entrenchments, and hence quoted Mr Swett's words, and this error was copied from his History! (This quotation is acknowledged on p. 135 of Siege of Boston as from p. 20 of his History.) Another error is on page 164, where "riding down the hill" should read "going down the hill," an error inadvertantly made in copying for the press. Long before Mr Swett printed his pamphlet he knew how these errors occurred, and also knew they were acknowledged and corrected for a subsequent edition of the Siege of Boston. What more could be done?
When this is considered let the reader judge the spirit or purpose or honor that could have dictated Mr Swett's comments on these two errors. 1. Of the breastwork error, he says—"By describing it as reaching down to the slough he has represented it as longer than it was, and has marred and obscured by this mistake one of the principal features of the battle," &c., &c., p. 5. Indeed! Is this so? Let both descriptions be examined and it will be seen who, in this, has "marred and obscured" this battle the most. The Siege says, page 135—"A breastwork beginning a short distance from the redoubt, and on a line with its eastern side, extended about one hundred yards north to a slough." The distance specified was taken by measure from Page's Plan—"to a slough" was taken from Mr Swett's History! The error is mostly corrected by the limitation. Now Mr Swett's description (History, p. 20, 1823 edition) reads—"A breastwork ran in a line with it north down to the slough." The error here has no corrective! My breastwork runs only "about one hundred yards north." Mr Swett's breastwork runs north down splash to the slough,—marring and obscuring (he says,) the principal features of the memorable Bunker Hill battle! But really he is altogether too severe on his mistake! 2. On the other error Mr Swett writes—"As if purposely to declare he did not think anything relative to Putnam deserving of ordinary care or attention, he says—'This report states Callender was riding down the hill, when there is not a syllable of the kind,'" p. 13. Now, 1st, the words put upon me between quotation marks are not mine. This is not what I say. The statement in the Siege, p. 164, is—"In the report (1775) made to the Massachusetts provincial congress it is stated that on Bunker Hill he (Putnam) ordered Capt. Callender, who was riding down the hill, 'to stop and go back.'" This statement, substituting going for riding, is correct. The exact statement of the report is that "an officer of the train was drawing his cannon down" Bunker Hill, when General Putnam met him and ordered him "to stop and go back." "He refused, until the General threatened him with immediate death, upon which he returned up the hill again, but soon deserted his post. Another officer, who had the direction of another cannon, conducted much in the same manner." And in another place Captains Gridley and Callender are named as being the officers. Now, by comparing this report with an article on Callender in the Centinel (1818), it will be seen that it was Callender "who was going down the hill." The sentence in the Siege is quoted simply to show that Gen. Putnam gave orders in the battle, and is concise, but it was written with "care and attention." I fearlessly appeal to the report to sustain this remark. Let Mr Swett look at it closely, calmly, and surely he cannot again write that "there is not a syllable of the kind there!" As though I had manufactured the whole statement! Here, then, an inexact quotation from the Siege, and a false statement as to fact, are prefaced by an illiberal, unjust and even wanton remark. Let the Siege of Boston, I had almost written everywhere, answer whether its author "did not think anything" "deserving of ordinary care and attention" relative to General Putnam. While Mr Swett is dealing out such rank injustice, accusing me of "sacrificing" Putnam's character, of "racking my fancy" to discover objections against "his claims," and I know not what else, it is peculiarly gratifying to me to be able to show the impression which the pages of this volume, as far as they relate to Putnam, made on a candid critic. An article on the Siege of Boston, in the Philadelphia Bulletin—understood to be from the pen of William B. Reed, Esq., the accomplished author of the Life of President Reed—after, I fear, too favorable a notice of my labors, reads:—
"For one thing we especially thank Mr Frothingham—his defence of Putnam from the miserable imputations which anonymous or irresponsible writers of a late day have sought to cast on his memory. He does it thoroughly, and shows that at Bunker Hill, as on all occasions where he had a chance, the old man valiant did his duty well."
What but partizan feeling could have dictated such gross and groundless attacks on the integrity of the Siege of Boston as abound on nearly every page of Mr Swett's pamphlet?
Having thus shown what some of the accusations made against the History of the Siege of Boston amount to, I might here stop. If remarks on the Battle of Bunker Hill, to which I apprehended no intelligent inquirer would object, and a fair citation of the evidence on both sides, which it would have been grave neglect to have omitted, be excepted, the whole statement relative to the question of command is given in a few lines, and seemed to be such as the authorities quoted necessarily demanded. They will do it injustice who discover in it, or fancy they discover, any disposition to make out an exclusive hero, or to fortify an "invincible prepossession." The question really seems of little practical account. General Putnam acted throughout with that bravery that marked his nature,—at the rail fence and on the brow of Bunker Hill in the heat of the action, and in the rear of these urging on the reinforcements. Gen. Warren, armed with a musket, fought in the redoubt, where he remained throughout the action; General Pomeroy, in the same way, kept at the rail fence; Colonel Prescott commanded at the original entrenchments. How much would it add to the fame of either of these patriots, were it made out clear that either exercised, or was authorized to exercise, a general command? How much would it increase the gratitude posterity owes to their memory for their gallant conduct? With such views, even the zeal and positiveness, and injustice, of Mr Swett shall not make me a partizan. I have only gone where the evidence carried me.
But the question of the command—a really curious historical question—had to be met, and I endeavored to account for the incongruity of the statements relative to it, and to dispose of it, in a way, which, if free from non-committalism, should also be free from dogmatism. The candid must judge whether the attempt has been successful. Mr Swett is not satisfied with the disposition, and announces his intention as follows:—"It will be our duty to enter into a thorough investigation of this subject of the command." It may be well, therefore, to follow him, and see how thorough has been his investigation, how sound is his reasoning, and how satisfactory is his conclusion. There is matter bearing on this subject in the Siege of Boston, never before printed, never before alluded to, consisting of extracts from original letters from General Ward and General Putnam; an entire and most important letter from Colonel Prescott; copious extracts from Judge William Prescott's memoir; an important document from Rev. Peter Thatcher; Rev. John Martin's statement; a fine letter from Captain John Chester, a brave and accomplished officer, who was in the battle; to say nothing of various other contemporary MS. letters and documents referred to and quoted. It is rather a question of fact than of argument. The positive language of contemporaries has, at least, as much to do with it, as considerations relative to military rank. Now, whoever professes to thoroughly investigate this subject, and does not cite these authorities fully and fairly, and consider them candidly, makes an unfortunate mistake. How does Mr Swett deal with them?