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ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
War News from Lexington 
 
 (Pag 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 C'OLD PUT") 
 
 A STORY FOR 
 YOUNG PEOPLE 
 
 BY 
 
 LOUISE SEYMOUR (HASBROUCKli "^f^^nyrrt^ 
 
 AUTHOB OF "la SALLE" ^ 
 
 Putnam scored with ancient scars 
 The living records of his country's wars. 
 "Columbiad,'' Joel Barlow, 1787. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 NEW YORK LONDON 
 
 1916 
 

 COPTEIGHT, 1916, BT 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 OCT -2-1316 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 'CI A 4 380 04 
 
TO 
 
 MY FATHER 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 For the material used in the following book I am 
 chiefly indebted to William Farrand Livingston's "Israel 
 Putnam," to William Cutter's "Life of Putnam," and to 
 various histories of the period. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A Jolly Boyhood 3 
 
 II. A Wolf-Hunt and Other Matters . 15 
 
 III. Battle of Lake George . . . .29 
 
 IV. Ranging 43 
 
 V. The Disappearing Sentinel and Other 
 
 Adventures 53 
 
 VI. Harassing Montcalm . . . .63 
 
 VII. The Tragedy of Fort William Henry . y2) 
 
 VIII. Ticonderoga 83 
 
 IX. Captivity 99 
 
 X. Canada Conquered 119 
 
 XL The Siege of Havana .... 133 
 
 XII. Pontiac's Rebellion 147 
 
 XIII. A Hero at Home 161 
 
 XIV. "The Company of Military Adventurers" 17?. 
 XV. On to Boston . . . . » . .189 
 
 XVI. Bunker Hill . . . . . .20.1 
 
 XVII. At New York 22J 
 
 XVIII. In Trouble and Out Again . . ■ . 243 
 
 XIX. A Sunny Old Age ... . . .255 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 War News from Lexington 
 
 Early Adventure of General Putnam . 
 Birthplace of General Israel Putnam 
 Israel Putnam (after Wilkinson) 
 The Battle of Bunker Hill . 
 Israel Putnam (after Trumbull) 
 Putnam's Escape at Horse Neck 
 Putnam's Duel with the British Officer 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 o 4 
 . i6 
 . 204 
 . 216 ^' 
 . 224 .'' 
 . 250 
 • 256 
 
I 
 
 A JOLLY BOYHOOD 
 
I 
 
 A JOLLY BOYHOOD 
 
 IN the days when forests covered most of New 
 England — when the Indian war-whoop still 
 echoed on its borders — when children ate corn- 
 meal porridge from pewter porringers, and grown 
 people stirred their hot drinks with a poker heated 
 in the fireplace — in those good old days, two cen- 
 turies ago, there lived in the neighborhood of Old 
 Salem, Massachusetts, a jolly, sturdy, red-cheeked 
 boy by the name of Israel Putnam. 
 
 In all the things that require strength, courage, 
 energy and quickness of decision, Israel excelled his 
 playmates. He was the leader in old-fashioned 
 games and sports, such as running, wrestling, throw- 
 ing the bar, and football. When he grew up, his 
 dashing exploits during the French and Indian War 
 made him the hero of all New England; he en- 
 tered the Revolution as a general, and rose to 
 be second to Washington in military rank. "His 
 
 3 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 name," said Washington Irving, "has long been 
 a favorite one with young and old; one of the 
 talismanic names of the Revolution, the very men- 
 tion of which is like the sound of a trumpet." He 
 was the first of tlie famous men of the new nation 
 to have his biography written ; he had a happy fac- 
 ulty for being present at the most interesting occa- 
 sions of his epoch; he was noted for his unselfish 
 patriotism, for his absolutely flawless courage, for 
 his hairbreadth escapes, for his kindness and jol- 
 lity; so, though he had not the genius of Washing- 
 ton, Hamilton or Franklin, I think American young 
 people will find his career well worth reading 
 about. 
 
 The very first glimpse we have of our hero is a 
 strange one ; it shows him to us upside down ! This 
 is how it happened. 
 
 When Israel was a small boy, he and some of 
 the other boys of his age went birds-nesting. In 
 those days of a rougher age, boys hadn't learned 
 the cruelty of the sport as they have now. Israel, 
 as usual, was more daring than any of his play- 
 mates, and foolishly climbed out on a small limb 
 till it broke beneath him. Crash ! went he ; and his 
 
 4 
 

 
 MWM^iWf^^^^' "^'^^'^ 
 
 Early An\ exture of General Putnam 
 
A JOLLY BOYHOOD 
 
 career seemed likely to end then and there! As 
 he came hurtling down, however, the seat of his 
 pantaloons caught on a branch in such a way that he 
 hung head downward ! 
 
 "Are you hurt, Israel ?" called his comrades anx- 
 iously. 
 
 "No," answered the unfortunate boy, "but I'm 
 caught. I can't get down.'* 
 
 "If we had a knife," said some one of the boys, 
 "we could cut away the limb." 
 
 This was a bright idea, but unfortunately it was 
 of no use, as no one had a knife. Another boy 
 suggested burning the tree down, a plan quite im- 
 practical on the face of it. 
 
 "Hurry up and do something," called Israel, in 
 distress, his face redder than ever from a rush of 
 blood to the head. "You fellows would stand there 
 talking all night. I tell you it's no fun hanging 
 here." 
 
 But none of the boys could think what to do. 
 Finally, Israel called out, 
 
 "Jim Randall, is there a ball in your rifle?" 
 
 Jim Randall, who was noted as a crack shot, sel- 
 dom went out without his flintlock. The woods 
 
 5 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 at that time were full of wild turkeys and other 
 game. 
 
 "Yes," said he. 
 
 "Then shoot at that small limb that holds me 
 here," cried Israel. 
 
 "What? Cut you down?" asked Jim, horror- 
 struck. " I might miss and shoot you." 
 
 "Never mind. That would be better than for 
 me to die by hanging, which I'll certainly do if I 
 hang here much longer. Shoot, I tell you," he 
 added, as Jim hesitated. 
 
 "But you'll fall!" 
 
 "Shoot!" 
 
 Jim Randall brought his rifle to his shoulder, took 
 careful aim, and fired. 
 
 The splinters flew. Israel Putnam dropped to 
 the ground unhurt, except for severe bruises. The 
 next day he went back and got the nest — an action 
 which cannot be praised except as showing a gen- 
 eral tendency to perseverance ! 
 
 Once at least during his boyhood Israel made a 
 visit to Boston. It was a small town then, but it 
 looked very large to the country boy. As he was 
 walking along the principal street, staring at the 
 
 6 
 
A JOLLY BOYHOOD 
 
 sights, a Boston boy began making fun of his coun- 
 trified appearance and behavior. Israel stood it as 
 long as he could — he was never one to pick a quar- 
 rel without cause — but finally, seeing that a crowd 
 was collecting, he challenged his persecutor to a 
 fight, and, in spite of the other's larger size, suc- 
 ceeded in whipping him. The city boy slunk away, 
 while the spectators applauded. 
 
 Another story which is told of Israel happened 
 some years later and concerns a practical joke 
 which he played upon a slave owner. At that time 
 many New Englanders owned slaves. This man, 
 one of the Putnams' neighbors, had a colored fel- 
 low named Cudge, who seems to have absorbed 
 the New England spirit of independence into his 
 blood, for he was particularly refractory. One 
 day Cudge's master made up his mind to flog 
 him. 
 
 We are not told whether Israel disapproved of 
 this punishment, but as he was always noted for 
 his kindheartedness, he probably did. At any rate, 
 when the slave owner asked his aid in flogging 
 Cudge, Israel promised his help, with a mental res- 
 ervation. 
 
 7 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 "You catch him," said he, "and I will tie him for 
 you." 
 
 The farmer caught Cudge, who was in the fields, 
 and brought him to the barn, where Israel was ready 
 with a strong rope, one end of which he had fast- 
 ened to a beam. The other he had made into a 
 noose. When Cudge and his master entered, Put- 
 nam, instead of slipping the noose over the black 
 man alone, slipped it over both of them, master 
 and man, binding their arms down tightly so that 
 they could not hurt each other. Then he went off to 
 give them time to appreciate the joke! After a 
 while, he returned and loosed them. History does 
 not say what names the slave owner called Israel; 
 but Cudge escaped his whipping, and was in such 
 a good humor that he was easy to manage for days 
 to come. 
 
 Another adventure of Putnam's boyhood was his 
 taming of a vicious bull, which he accomplished by 
 jumping on the bull's back and riding it round and 
 round the pasture till the animal was exhausted. 
 
 What of Israel Putnam's schooling during this 
 rough-and-tumble, healthy, adventurous boyhood of 
 his? Echo answers, "What?" To tell the truth, 
 
 8 
 
A JOLLY BOYHOOD 
 
 he received very little. There was probably no 
 school near him, and as there were no cars in those 
 days, few carriages, none but the roughest roads, 
 mere Indian trails through the primeval forest, he 
 could not attend one even a few miles distant. The 
 children of his neighborhood may possibly have 
 met, during the winter, at the house of some of their 
 number whose father or mother volunteered to 
 teach them reading, numbering, and writing. Or 
 the minister may have kept school, in addition to 
 his other duties. Israel probably attended some 
 such class. But we know that his education did not 
 go far. His letters in later days were fearful and 
 wonderful, even in those times of erratic spelling 
 and still more erratic capitals. Israel himself was 
 ashamed of them, and when he became a general 
 always had a secretary attend to his correspondence. 
 When he had children of his own, you may be sure 
 he saw to it that they received the education he 
 lacked and of which he was beginning to feel the 
 need. 
 
 But if he lacked book knowledge, he was learn- 
 ing other Important things all during his boyhood. 
 He learned how to fell the mighty trees of the for- 
 
 9 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 est, how to clear and cultivate the soil, how to care 
 for cattle and horses, how to build log-houses, how 
 to plant and graft fruit-trees, how to ride, and how 
 to shoot. He knew from his cradle, almost, more 
 woodcraft than a modern Boy Scout can possibly 
 know in these days of vanished forests. And often, 
 probably, he and his boy friends talked with In- 
 dians, the subdued remnants of the tribes conquered 
 during King Philip's War; and gathered from them 
 information as to savage ways and customs which 
 was to stand them in good stead later on. Often, 
 too, in the evening around the log fires, Israel heard 
 blood-curdling stories of the recent French and 
 Indian raids upon the Maine and Massachusetts bor- 
 ders, but a few miles north of Salem; he heard of 
 peaceful farmers shot down in their fields by the 
 lurking savages, he heard of French priests and 
 French gentlemen leading their bloodthirsty allies 
 on the war-path ; he heard of whole settlements mas- 
 sacred in the dead of night, and of women and lit- 
 tle children taken away captive through the snowy 
 forests to Canada; he heard all these grim stories, 
 which were only too true, and had happened but 
 a few years before his birth ; and he resolved, then 
 
 10 
 
A JOLLY BOYHOOD 
 
 and there, that when he grew up he would do his 
 part to protect his country from future outrages. 
 
 So he passed through all the adventures and ex- 
 citements and the hard work of a boy's life in a 
 pioneer country, and grew to a sturdy and strong 
 manhood. 
 
II 
 
 A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER 
 MATTERS 
 
II 
 
 A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 THERE were so many things to tell of 
 Israel Putnam's boyhood in the first chap- 
 ter, that three items most important, of 
 course, .in all true and proper biographies were 
 left out. They are, the date of the hero's birth, 
 a description of his birthplace, and an account 
 of his family, even back to the remotest an- 
 cestors. 
 
 As those are the passages the impatient reader is 
 only too apt to skip, in order to reach as soon as 
 possible the really interesting part of the story, we 
 shall treat of them very shortly, in order not to 
 subject anyone to temptation — though, after all, 
 there are two or three things connected with them 
 worth mentioning. 
 
 In the first place, the Putnams were an old, es- 
 tablished family in Salem, Israel's great-grand- 
 father having come to America from England and 
 
 15 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 settled here in 1641. In the second place, Israel 
 Putnam, who saw the light of day on January 7, 
 1 71 8, was the twelfth child of his parents, a cir- 
 cumstance which ought to prove something to those 
 who collect statistics about great men and small 
 families. In the third place, he was born in a 
 house which is still standing, and in the possession 
 of the Putnam family, in Salem Village, now Dan- 
 vers, Massachusetts, and this neighborhood was the 
 scene, you will remember, of the famous witchcraft 
 persecutions, which caused so much terror and so 
 much suffering to innocent people. 
 
 Israel's father, Joseph Putnam, was one of the 
 few who dared to disapprove openly of this frenzy, 
 and of the hanging of the so-called witches on the 
 testimony of some hysterical children. For this rea- 
 son, his life was in great danger from his excited, 
 bigoted neighbors, and even from his own relatives. 
 For six months, or until the witchcraft days were 
 ended, he kept his flintlock loaded and ready to 
 hand, and his fastest horse saddled in the stable, 
 ready to make his escape in case he himself should 
 be accused of the crime. The independence of spirit 
 and moral courage which he showed on this occa- 
 
 16 
 
A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 sion were handed down to his son Israel in no small 
 measure. 
 
 Israel's father died when Israel was five years 
 old ; but a few years after he acquired a stepfather. 
 This was Captain Thomas Perley, of Boxford, 
 Massachusetts, a village about fifteen miles distant 
 from Salem. Israel, with the rest of the younger 
 children — there were six of them then — went with 
 his mother to live at the house of his stepfather. 
 He remained there for ten years, or the greater part 
 of his boyhood. His new parent was a captain of 
 the militia, and probably laid the foundations of 
 Israel's military training. 
 
 During these years, Israel by no means forgot his 
 Salem friends, but visited them frequently. There 
 was a special attraction for him in Old Salem. 
 Can you guess what, or, rather, who it was? A 
 pretty girl I Her name was Hannah Pope, and she 
 was the daughter of some former neighbors of the 
 Putnams. Her family, like the Putnams, had been 
 among the first settlers of the village. 
 
 In those days young people married early. There 
 was no difficulty about the young men making a 
 living, for the living was all around them in the 
 
 17 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 shape of rich lands only waiting to be cultivated. 
 The lot of a bachelor was a hard one without a 
 woman to cook and keep house for him; and a girl 
 who did not marry by the time she was twenty was 
 sadly pitied, and called an "ancient maid," or, in 
 Boston, a "thorn-back." 
 
 Hannah Pope never gave anyone a chance to 
 call her these uncomplimentary things. Before she 
 was eighteen she had listened favorably to the blunt 
 but impetuous wooing of the stalwart, black-haired, 
 blue-eyed Israel Putnam, who had been her sweet- 
 heart, probably, ever since she was a tiny girl work- 
 ing her first sampler. In July, 1739, she and Israel 
 were married in her father's house. Soon after 
 the young husband took his wife to a new house 
 he had built with his own hands on the portion 
 of the Salem farm he had inherited from his father. 
 There, about a year later, their first child was 
 born, and named Israel, after his father. 
 
 About this time settlers from Roxbury, Salem, 
 Lynn, and other Massachusetts towns were moving 
 out to eastern Connecticut, a part of the country 
 which so far had not been settled, but where there 
 were unusually fertile lands awaiting cultivation. 
 
 18 
 
A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 Israel Putnam heard of this emigration, and felt 
 his own pioneer blood stirring. He sold some of 
 his land in Salem, and with this money bought, in 
 partnership with his brother-in-law, Joseph Pope, 
 a farm in the district then called "Mortlake," which 
 was afterwards annexed by the town of Pomfret, 
 and is now a part of Brooklyn, Connecticut. Israel 
 bought it from Governor Jonathan Belcher, of Bos- 
 ton. He probably made a preliminary trip there in 
 1739 to look it over. In 1740 he moved his wife 
 and baby there. 
 
 We can imagine their slow journey on horseback 
 over the seventy-five miles of rough trail that led 
 from their old home to the new. When they ar- 
 rived mother and baby were sheltered under a has- 
 tily improvised shed of bark, while the men — Israel 
 had a black servant with him — felled trees for the 
 new house, cut the logs, hauled, notched them and 
 set them in place. In a few days a substantial 
 log cabin was erected, and Hannah Putnam helped 
 to chink up the cracks with moss and clay. If it 
 was like all the other log cabins of the period, it 
 had a fireplace made of the great Connecticut bowl- 
 ders, an opening which served for a window, and 
 
 19 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 another for a door. They could have brought lit- 
 tle furniture with them ; and, perhaps, for that first 
 winter they sat on log stools, and slept on beds 
 made from cedar and hemlock boughs. But they 
 soon improved their condition. 
 
 At the end of two years Israel was able to buy 
 out his brother-in-law's share of the property, and 
 had paid the whole amount of his debt to Grovemor 
 Belcher. In a few years he looked around him at 
 fertile fields, enclosed with stone fences, at fat, 
 sleek cattle, and sheep, and goats. There was plenty 
 of food on his table and in his storehouse: corn 
 and pumpkins, turnips, squash, and other vegeta- 
 bles, milk and cream, bacon and ham. He had 
 brought apple-trees, pear-trees and other fruit 
 trees from Old Salem, planted and grafted them 
 with great care, and they promised soon to bear 
 fruit. With the extra produce of his farm he could 
 buy such furniture as they needed to make com- 
 fortable a new house which he had built to take 
 the place of the first log cabin. 
 
 All this meant work, and hard work, on the 
 part of the young landowner, who had only his 
 negro servant to help him in the fields. His young 
 
 20 
 
A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 wife did her full share in the cooking and cleaning, 
 the spinning and weaving and fashioning of home- 
 made clothing, milking cattle, dairy work, and baby 
 tending, which filled the lives of our pioneer great- 
 great-grandmothers to overflowing. Israel's family 
 grew fast. Nearly every year a baby arrived, until 
 the farmhouse was filled to overflowing with sturdy, 
 tumbling youngsters. 
 
 Meanwhile other settlers had been coming to the 
 community, attracted by the rich farm lands. They 
 soon learned to admire the sterhng qualities of 
 Neighbor Putnam. An incident which occurred 
 now made him truly the hero of the countryside. 
 By the efforts of Putnam and others the county 
 had been almost entirely rid of wild beasts; but 
 there still remained one old she-wolf who was so 
 wary that nobody could catch her, and who killed 
 countless sheep and goats every year. Each fall 
 she retreated to the forests west of them, and re- 
 turned the next spring with her young whelps. One 
 morning Putnam found seventy of his sheep and 
 goats dead in the field, and many more poor lit- 
 tle lambs and kids terribly wounded by the wolf's 
 teeth and claws. This was too much! He and 
 
 21 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 five other men agreed to hunt alternately in pairs 
 until the wolf was captured and killed. Fortu- 
 nately, a light snow had fallen, which made it pos- 
 sible to detect her tracks, which were unmistakable, 
 since one of her paws, which had been caught in 
 a steel trap, was shorter than the others. 
 
 The men followed the trail to the Connecticut 
 River, and found that the wolf had turned and 
 come back towards Pom fret. They turned too, 
 and at three o'clock in the morning finally traced 
 it to the opening of a cave, about three miles from 
 Putnam's farm. There the wolf had taken refuge, 
 and all their efforts to dislodge her proved futile. 
 They sent in dogs — among them Putnam's old 
 bloodhound — and the animals returned wounded 
 and frightened, and neither coaxing nor punish- 
 ment could make them go in again. An attempt 
 was made to smoke the wolf out by burning straw 
 and sulphur inside the entrance. No result ! 
 
 Putnam then asked his negro if he would go in. 
 
 The negro shook his head and rolled his eyes 
 most emphatically. "Please, Massa Putnam, don* 
 send dis poor nigger in dar," he begged. 
 
 "Well," said Putnam, stripping off his coat, "Pm 
 
 22 
 
A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 not going to have another coward in my family. 
 I'll go in." 
 
 He had the others fetch him some strips of 
 birch-bark for torches, and tie a long rope around 
 his legs, so that they could pull him out when he 
 kicked it as a signal. Then he got down on his 
 hands and knees and crawled into the slippery 
 hole. 
 
 The cave is described by Major Humphreys, Put- 
 nam's earliest biographer, who visited it during 
 Putnam's lifetime, as being about two feet square 
 and very slippery with ice at the opening ; it de- 
 scended obliquely fifteen feet, then ran horizontally 
 ten more, then ascended gradually sixteen feet 
 towards its end. It was not high enough in any 
 place for a man to stand upright, nor was it more 
 than three feet wide in any place. This "Wolf's 
 Hole" is still pointed out to visitors in Pomfret, 
 Connecticut. 
 
 Putnam crawled in, in absolute darkness except 
 for the circle of light cast by his flaring torch. On 
 and on he went, until, at the very end of the cavern, 
 he saw two balls of fire glaring at him. They 
 were the eyes of the wolf. Upon seeing the torch 
 
 23 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 she growled horribly. Putnam kicked the rope, 
 as a signal to his friends to pull him out. They 
 thought him in danger, and obeyed in such haste 
 that his shirt was stripped over his head and he 
 was badly cut in passage. Nevertheless, he pre- 
 pared to enter a second time. He loaded his gun 
 with nine buckshot, and with it in one hand and 
 the torch in the other painfully crawled towards the 
 wolf. 
 
 When he drew near her she howled, rolled her 
 eyes, snapped her teeth, and dropped her head be- 
 tween her legs in preparation to spring. There 
 was not an instant to be lost. Putnam raised his 
 gun to his shoulder and fired at her head. There 
 was a deafening report — a violent "kick" from the 
 gun — smoke filled the narrow cave to suffocation 
 — and before he knew clearly what had happened, 
 Putnam found himself outside the cave, pulled 
 there by his anxious friends while still stunned from 
 the shock of the discharge in such narrow quar- 
 ters. 
 
 He waited for the smoke to clear away; a third 
 time he went in, not knowing yet whether the 
 wolf were killed or all the more savage on account 
 
 24 
 
A WOLF-HUNT AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 of wounds. But when he approached her this time 
 she lay motionless. He put the torch to her nose 
 and found that she was dead. He took hold of 
 her ears, kicked the rope, and was pulled out for 
 the third time, dragging his trophy with him. A 
 shout went up from the spectators. Putnam and 
 his prize were made the center of an excited throng, 
 who escorted them to a house nearby, where a 
 "wolf-jubilee" was held. The wolf's carcass was 
 hung to a spike driven into a beam, and for days 
 the colonists came from far and wide to view the 
 body of their late enemy and praise the spirit of 
 the man who had slain her. 
 
 With this exploit Putnam's fame for courage was 
 firmly established; he was called "Old Wolf Put- 
 nam"; and when the Revolution began, compari- 
 sons were made between his early adventure and 
 his readiness to attack the "British Wolf" in its den. 
 
 But we are still a long way from the Revolution. 
 The wolf episode occurred not long after the year 
 1740. Years of peaceful home life and profitable 
 farming lay before the young colonist; and after 
 that he was to fight in many stirring battles and 
 skirmishes for his mother country before he cast 
 
 25 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 aside forever her uniform, and gave his hean and 
 his sword to the cause of hberty. 
 
 These peaceful years bore fruit, not in events of 
 interest to the story-teller, but in prosperity and 
 happiness. Putnam's children were growing up 
 around him, his wealth was increasing yearly, and 
 he had every inducement to stay at home, when, 
 suddenly, the war-clouds grew darker and darker 
 on the horizon, the first skirmishing shots, like 
 the patter of hail of a coming storm, rang from 
 the Ohio Valley, and the New England men were 
 called upon to defend their frontier in a campaign 
 against the French and Indians in the Lake Cham- 
 plain region. 
 
 Israel Putnam was one of the first to respond to 
 the call to arms in Connecticut. 
 
Ill 
 
 BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
Ill 
 
 BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 EARLY in the summer of 1755 the new house 
 on the Putnam farm witnessed the first of 
 many partings. Israel, the oldest boy, now 
 a well-grown lad of sixteen, lifted the flintlock from 
 its accustomed place over the mantel, and handed 
 it to his father. 
 
 "Remember what I've told you about the farm- 
 ing, son," said Israel the elder, "and help your 
 mother all you can in every way." 
 
 "Don't cry, Hannah," he said to his wife, ten- 
 derly kissing her. "I'll be back in no time, just as 
 soon as we've put those rascally Frenchmen where 
 they belong." 
 
 The younger children clustered about, hardly 
 comprehending why their father was going to leave 
 them. 
 
 "He's going to fight the Indians," whispered the 
 next oldest boy to a little sister — at which the lat- 
 
 29 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 ter began to cry. It was not strange the word 
 Indian should frighten her out of her wits, for 
 she had heard many terrible and true stories about 
 them. 
 
 "There, there," said her father, soothing her, "be 
 a brave girl. See, father has his gun and his 
 hatchet, and no Indian will dare come near him." 
 Then, to divert her mind, "Fetch my powder-horn 
 from that nail where it hangs. Now — I'm ready! 
 I don't look much like a real soldier yet, maybe — 
 but I surely will by the time I get back from the 
 campaign." 
 
 Indeed, Israel, like most of the other Connecti- 
 cut volunteers in the Crown Point campaign, looked 
 anything but soldierlike. He wore his ordinary 
 farming clothes, carried only his flintlock, hatchet 
 and powder-horn, with one of Hannah's home-spun 
 blankets strapped at his back, to keep him warm 
 on cold nights. After taking a final farewell of 
 his family, he made his way down the path under 
 the apple trees, through the gate in the stone fence, 
 and out into the road. 
 
 Presently he met other volunteers going in the 
 same direction, and joined the main body some- 
 
 30 
 
BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 where on the road to Albany. Their general was 
 Phineas Lyman. He had been a tutor at Yale, then 
 a lawyer, and now he was an officer who knew lit- 
 tle more about soldiering than the men under him, 
 but he was courageous and had good common sense. 
 The other officers were mainly men chosen by the 
 soldiers themselves from their own friends and 
 acquaintances, and this made discipline difficult at 
 times. One of them was Colonel Ephraim Wil- 
 liams, who made his will at Albany, leaving a sum 
 of money to found the school which has since be- 
 come Williams College; another was Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Seth Pomeroy, a gunsmith from Northamp- 
 ton. After many days' march through the woods, 
 the volunteers arrived at the little Dutch town of 
 Albany, where they encamped on the "Flats" and 
 meadows below the town. 
 
 They found here several hundred Mohawk In- 
 dians, friends of William Johnson, the commander 
 of the whole army. These red men, hideously 
 painted, with feathers in their hair, were enjoying 
 themselves to their hearts' content, eating and 
 drinking as much as possible at the expense of their 
 allies. Johnson, to please them, let them paint his 
 
 31 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 face, too; he danced the war-dance with them, and 
 cut with his own sword the first slice from the 
 ox which had been roasted whole for their feast. 
 Johnson was an Irishman who lived in the Mo- 
 hawk valley, and was such a favorite with the 
 savages that they had made him a Mohawk chief. 
 It was mainly his influence which kept them from 
 going over to the French side. 
 
 The army stayed in camp near Albany till mid- 
 summer, far too long a time to please the impa- 
 tient Putnam and his friends. The delay was due 
 to friction and bad management among the colo- 
 nies. They had not yet learned how to pull to- 
 gether. 
 
 During this waiting the news of Braddock's de- 
 feat at the hands of French and Indians in the 
 Ohio Valley spread a gloom over the camp. The 
 English soldiers falling by regiments from the bul- 
 lets which whizzed from among the trees — not an 
 enemy to be seen! It was terrible! "The Lord 
 have mercy on poor New England !" one of the vol- 
 unteers wrote home. 
 
 And now the turn of the New England men 
 was coming. Toward midsummer news was 
 
 32 
 
BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 brought by Mohawk scouts that Baron Dieskau, a 
 German baron in the service of the French, was 
 approaching Crown Point from Canada with eight 
 thousand men. Johnson set his army on the move. 
 Putnam was one of those who advanced up the 
 Hudson to a spot called the Great Carrying Place, 
 where they set to work to build a fort called Fort 
 Lyman, afterwards changed to Fort Edward. He 
 was with a large detachment which moved from 
 there across country to Lake George, a distance 
 of fourteen miles. They marched through the thick 
 forest, the axmen going in front to cut down trees 
 to make a rough road for the others, who guided 
 the train of Dutch wagons. In twenty-four hours 
 they reached Lake George, that beautiful sheet 
 of water near which so many exciting things were 
 to happen. 
 
 They encamped there, and began to throw up 
 earthworks. Three hundred Mohawks came to join 
 them. On the following Sunday the Indians had 
 to hear a long sermon, preached by one of the 
 army chaplains, and dealing with theology which 
 was quite over their heads, even when translated 
 by the interpreter. But they listened with great 
 
 33 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 courtesy, for their politeness in such matters put 
 white people to shame. 
 
 Another week went by. The next Sunday was a 
 beautiful day, fair and warm, with light showers. 
 Toward sunset, after the prayers and sermons 
 were over, an Indian scout came in with the re- 
 port that he had found the trail of a body of men — 
 Dieskau's army — moving from South Bay (a small 
 lake to the west of Lake Champlain, and emptying 
 into it) toward Fort Lyman. Johnson sent out 
 a scout to reconnoiter and warn those at Fort Ly- 
 man. He did not, apparently, imagine that the en- 
 emy would attack his own camp. 
 
 The poor scout on his way to Fort Lyman was 
 killed by the Indians of Dieskau's army. Dieskau 
 had meant to attack Crown Point, but on read- 
 ing the letter which the scout had carried, de- 
 cided to move upon Lake George instead. He 
 understood that the force there was large; but — 
 "the more there are, the more we shall kill!" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Meanwhile Johnson and his officers had decided 
 to send out two detachments of five hundred men 
 each, through the forest, to catch Dieskau's men in 
 
 34 
 
BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 their retreat. Hendrick, the chief of the Mohawks, 
 disapproved of this plan. He picked up a stick 
 and broke it; then he picked up several sticks, and 
 showed that together they could not be broken. 
 The officers grasped his meaning, and Johnson or- 
 dered the two detachments to be joined into one. 
 Still the wise old Indian shook his head. "If 
 they are to be killed, they are too many," he said; 
 "if they are to fight, they are too few." But in 
 spite of his disapproval, he decided to go with them^ 
 and as he was too old and fat to walk, the English 
 gave him a horse, which he rode at the head of the 
 column. Two hundred of his warriors accompa- 
 nied the party. 
 
 Putnam was one of the soldiers in this detach- 
 ment. About eight o'clock on Monday morning 
 they left camp, under the command of Colonel 
 Ephraim Williams. They advanced along the 
 rugged valley in which their camp lay. There was 
 no open ground but the rough road along which they 
 marched. To the left of them were dense thickets ; 
 to the right, woody slopes. 
 
 Suddenly, when they were about three miles 
 from camp, old Hendrick in the front detected some 
 
 35 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 sign — a rustle of a leaf or breaking of a twig, which 
 warned him that the enemy was near. It was too 
 late to warn the others. The French and Indian 
 advance guard of Dieskau's army was all around 
 them, concealed in the thickets at the left and the 
 slopes at the right, so that not a man nor a gun was 
 visible. From the left side spattered a murderous 
 fire. The column doubled up, as Dieskau said after- 
 ward, "like a pack of cards." Hendrick fell dead, 
 and so did Colonel Williams. The men in the rear 
 ran forward to the help of their comrades, when 
 suddenly a sharp fire from the slopes on the right 
 opened upon them. The men retreated in a panic; 
 but a part of Williams' regiment, under Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Whiting, rallied and covered the retreat of 
 the rest by firing from behind trees like the French 
 and Indians, then falling back and firing again. 
 Putnam was one of these quick-witted and brave 
 soldiers. "And a very handsome retreat they 
 made," writes Pomeroy, "and so continued till they 
 came within about three quarters of a mile of 
 our camp. This was the last fire our men gave 
 our enemies, which killed great numbers of them; 
 they were seen to drop as pigeons." This affair was 
 
 36 
 
BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 long called by New Englanders "the Bloody Morn- 
 ing Scout." 
 
 Putnam had escaped scot free. He now joined 
 those in the fort who were preparing for the at- 
 tack. They threw up a barricade of wagons, boats, 
 trunks of trees, anything that came handy, behind 
 which the men could stand, crouch, or lie flat. Dies- 
 kau had paused about a mile from the camp to col- 
 lect his forces. Soon they appeared — the regulars 
 in the road in regular platoons, the French and In- 
 dians at the sides, running helter-skelter through 
 the woods, shouting, yelling, and firing from behind 
 trees. Those in the fort responded. Seth Pomeroy 
 wrote to his wife : "Perhaps the hailstones from 
 heaven were never much thicker than their bullets 
 came ; but, blessed be God ! that did not in the least 
 daunt or disturb us." Johnson was wounded, and 
 retired to his tent. Lyman took command. The 
 battle raged furiously for four hours. Putnam, 
 though his courage never faltered, must have felt 
 about it as did a comrade of his who wrote to his 
 wife: "It was the most awful day my eyes ever 
 beheld; there seemed to be nothing but thunder 
 and lightning and perpetual pillars of smoke." 
 
 37 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 At length DIeskau was wounded, and the French 
 began to give way. Putnam and the other fighting 
 farmers, raw recruits though they were, saw their 
 advantage, leaped over their barricade, and fell 
 upon them, using hatchets and the butts of their 
 guns as weapons. The French were entirely routed. 
 Dieskau was carried prisoner into Johnson's camp, 
 where his wounds were dressed by order of the 
 general before those of Johnson himself. Johnson's 
 Mohawks meanwhile held a long and angry conver- 
 sation with Johnson in his tent. They were not at 
 all satisfied with the outcome. 
 
 Putnam heard afterward that Dieskau had asked 
 Johnson what they wanted. 
 
 "What do they want?" answered Johnson. "To 
 
 burn you, by G , eat you, and smoke you in their 
 
 pipes, in revenge for three or four of their chiefs 
 that were killed. But never fear; you shall be safe 
 with me, or else they shall kill us both." He put 
 a strong guard around Dieskau and in the morning 
 sent him with a large escort to Fort Lyman, whence 
 he was sent to Albany, and then to New York. 
 Johnson's conduct on this occasion is of particular 
 interest when compared with that of the French 
 
 38 
 
BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 officers at Ticonderoga, which will be described 
 later. 
 
 So ended the battle of Lake George, Putnam's 
 first engagement — his "baptism of fire." The pro- 
 vincial soldiers, according to contemporary testi- 
 mony, "in the morning fought like good boys, about 
 noon like men, and in the afternoon like devils." 
 None had been stauncher or braver than Putnam. 
 He was rewarded by soon after receiving his com- 
 mission as second Lieutenant in one of the newly- 
 arrived Connecticut regiments. 
 
IV 
 RANGING 
 
rv 
 
 RANGING 
 
 WHO is that man?" asked Putnam one 
 day of a fellow soldier, pointing to a 
 tall, sinewy stranger, in rough woods- 
 man's clothes, who had that day come to camp and 
 been admitted to General Johnson's tent. 
 
 "That? Oh, that's Robert Rogers, the ranger 
 — the man that knows as much about the woods 
 as any Indian varmint alive," answered his com- 
 rade. *'Used to be a smuggler, they say," he went 
 on, lowering his voice, "and between you and me, 
 he's been mixed up in some pretty queer businesses. 
 A hard customer, but brave — there's no man braver 
 than Bob Rogers. He knows how to fight the In- 
 dians, and how to find out all the secrets of the 
 Frenchies yonder at Ticonderoga, So Johnson's 
 going to make him a Major, I hear, and put him at 
 the head of a corps of sharpshooters who're not 
 skeered to beat the Indians at their own game. 
 
 43 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Come to think of it, Put," drawled the Yankee slyly, 
 "you'd be pretty good at that sort of work your- 
 self. You can see and hear pretty near as good as 
 an Indian now, you're a good shot, and you ain't 
 afraid of much, that's a fact." 
 
 Putnam laughed, and did not answer. Not long 
 after he met Rogers, and the two men struck up 
 an acquaintance. Rogers discovered that Putnam 
 had the qualities of an ideal ranger, and before 
 the summer was over he arranged that he join his 
 band. Another valued officer in the rangers was 
 John Stark, of New Hampshire. 
 
 The following interesting description of the life 
 of the rangers is from Parkman's "Montcalm and 
 Wolfe." "The best of them [the rangers] were 
 commonly employed on Lake George; and nothing 
 can surpass the adventurous hardihood of their 
 lives. Summer and winter, day and night were 
 alike to them. Embarked in whale-boats or birch 
 canoes, they glided under the silent moon or in the 
 languid glare of a breathless August day, when 
 islands floated in dreamy haze, and the hot air was 
 thick with odors of the pine; or in the bright Oc- 
 tober, when the jay screamed from the woods, squir- 
 
 44 
 
RANGING 
 
 rels gathered their winter hoard, and congregated 
 blackbirds chattered farewell to their summer 
 haunts; when gay mountains basked in light, ma- 
 ples dropped leaves of rustling gold, sumachs 
 glowed like rubies under the dark green of the un- 
 changing spruce, and mossed rocks with all their 
 unpainted plumage lay double in the watery mirror : 
 that festal evening of the year, when jocund Na- 
 ture disrobes herself, to wake again refreshed in 
 the joy of her undying spring. Or, in the tomb-like 
 silence of the winter forest, with breath frozen on 
 his beard, the ranger strode on snow-shoes over 
 the spotless drifts; and, like Durer's knight, a 
 ghastly death stalked ever at his side. There were 
 those among them for whom this stem life had a 
 fascination that made all other existence seem 
 tame." 
 
 Putnam's quick wit, courage and strength soon 
 made him conspicuous in this service, and his ad- 
 ventures were many. Here is one of them. 
 
 One night he and Lieutenant Robert Durkee 
 were sent to reconnoiter the enemy's camp at a 
 place in the forest called The Ovens, near Ticon- 
 deroga. It was black as pitch, and as they made 
 
 45 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 their way through the woods not a sound was to 
 be heard but the hooting of some owl or the rustle 
 of a startled rabbit. Putnam and Durkee walked 
 noiselessly ; they had learned how to avoid even the 
 breaking of a twig which might betray them to 
 some lurking Indian. Presently they saw the glow 
 of fires and knew they were near the enemy's camp. 
 They crept nearer on their hands and knees, for 
 it was their bold plan to get inside the circle of 
 fires, which they supposed the French, like the 
 English, placed at the outside of their camp. 
 
 Suddenly a voice cried, "Qui vivef a gun 
 cracked sharply, and the darkness became alive with 
 dim figures. The American rangers were in the 
 heart of the French camp. The latter, they learned, 
 posted their fires in the center, not the outside, of 
 their camp. 
 
 The sentinel's bullets whistled about their ears. 
 Savages hurled their tomahawks. Putnam never 
 knew exactly v/hat happened next, but in a moment 
 he found himself out of the crowd and running 
 through the woods, dodging dark trunks of trees 
 and tearing his clothing on the underbrush. He 
 could hear footsteps close behind him, and could 
 
 46 
 
RANGING 
 
 almost feel the pursuer's breath on his neck. Soon 
 his foot tripped, and he fell headlong into a soft, 
 sticky pit. Crash! came the other man on top of 
 him. Quick as a flash, Putnam grasped his toma- 
 hawk. He was just about to bring it down on the 
 skull of the other, when a familiar voice exclaimed, 
 "Stop! it's Durkee!" 
 
 Putnam's hand fell limp, and he whispered, "You 
 said that just in time." 
 
 "One of the devils got me in the thigh," said 
 Durkee, "but I managed to run in spite of it. Put, 
 have you got a drink anywhere about you?" 
 
 Putnam cautiously twisted around and got hold 
 of his canteen. He gave it to Durkee, but the othei, 
 after raising it eagerly to his lips, put it down with 
 a low exclamation of disgust. "Not a drop in it," 
 he whispered. 
 
 Putnam felt of it and found a bullet-hole. He 
 was glad the canteen had it instead of himself. He 
 and Durkee crawled out of the clay-pit and hid be- 
 hind some rocky ledges all night. In the morning 
 Putnam found that the blanket which he had worn 
 folded at his back had fourteen bullet holes in it! 
 
 They cautiously made their way back to camp 
 47 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and arrived unharmed. They had found out what 
 they wanted to know about the position and strength 
 of the enemy at "The Ovens" — but "The Ovens" 
 had been a hot place for them! 
 
 As fall came on, the men at Fort Lyman and 
 Lake George grumbled and shivered in their thin 
 summer clothing with but one blanket apiece. The 
 rain water stood in their tents; and the sick, of 
 whom there were many, suffered terribly from the 
 cold and wet weather. Discipline among these 
 obstinate, independent New Englanders was very 
 poor, and they were just about to mutiny and take 
 French leave when the welcome order came to break 
 camp. 
 
 Some soldiers and officers, however, had to stay 
 to guard the newly built forts. Few volunteered for 
 this disagreeable duty — but one of those who did so 
 was Israel Putnam. Day after day he saw his 
 friends and comrades leave for home; and he was 
 homesick as he watched them. He knew that, dur- 
 ing the winter nights to follow, while he scouted 
 the snowy forests, or shivered in the gloomy fort, 
 they would be sitting around their blazing hearths, 
 telling stories of the summer campaign to admiring 
 
 48 
 
RANGING 
 
 listeners. He, too, had a comfortable home and a 
 family who wished him back ; but his country's need 
 was always first to Israel Putnam, and he served 
 her with a whole-hearted devotion that cold and 
 heat and peril could not shake. 
 
 The long winter dragged on. By day and night 
 the rangers, with fur caps on their heads and thick 
 mittens on their hands, scouted in the neighborhood 
 of Lake George, now stealing on snow-shoes 
 through the forest, now gliding on skates over the 
 icy floor of the lake. They were invaluable in keep- 
 ing watch of the enemy and harassing them by 
 guerrilla warfare. Some also were at work on the 
 forts and the road between the Hudson River and 
 Lake George. 
 
 Putnam was relieved from service on May 30, 
 1756, and granted by the Connecticut Assembly 
 "fifty mill'd dollars ... as gratuity for . . . ex- 
 traordinary services and good conduct in ranging 
 and scouting the winter past for the annoyance 
 of the enemy near Crown Point and discovery of 
 their motions." 
 
 He returned home, at last, to the great delight of 
 his family; there was a tiny baby there whom he 
 
 49 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 had never seen — his daughter Eunice — who had 
 been born during the winter. How eagerly the 
 children must have gathered about him, to hear 
 the stories of his exciting adventures! 
 
 It was only during this month of May, 1756, that 
 war was formally declared between France and 
 England, after a year of preliminary fighting on 
 this continent. Putnam had but a short time to 
 enjoy himself with his family. In June he re- 
 turned to the Hudson, where the volunteers were 
 mustering for an attack on Ticonderoga and Crown 
 Point, He was now a Captain of the Fourth Com- 
 pany in Lyman's Regiment. 
 
THE DISAPPEARING SENTINEL 
 AND OTHER ADVENTURES 
 
V 
 
 THE DISAPPEARING SENTINEL AND OTHER 
 ADVENTURES 
 
 T 
 
 ■^HE great general, Montcalm, who had 
 taken the place of the wounded Dieskau 
 as commander-in-chief of the French 
 forces, lay at Ticonderoga, on Lake Champlain, the 
 most advanced post of the French, which he had 
 strongly garrisoned. The English called it a "hor- 
 net's nest," and it lived up to its name, for swarms 
 of French and Indians poured out from it, lurked 
 in the woods all about, and made the service along 
 Lake George and the upper Hudson even more dan- 
 gerous than before. 
 
 Putnam was again at Fort Edward. Every 
 night, for several nights in succession, the sentinel 
 standing at one of the posts had been fired upon 
 and killed by an unseen enemy. Strict precau- 
 tions were ordered. The sentinel was commanded 
 to call out, upon hearing even the slightest noise 
 
 53 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 in the bushes, "Who goes there?" and if no one 
 answered, to fire instantly. In spite of this, the 
 sentinels continued to disappear. Finally, even the 
 bravest men in camp declined to volunteer for such 
 dangerous duty. They were about to draft men, 
 when Putnam, who, as a commissioned officer, was 
 not in line for this service, volunteered to take 
 the post. He was accordingly made sentinel for 
 the night, and stationed himself at the spot. 
 
 Toward midnight he heard a faint crackling in 
 the bushes. It was so slight that another would 
 not have noticed it, or would have thought it caused 
 by some animal; but Putnam was by this time too 
 well trained in scouting work to let such a sound 
 escape him. He called rapidly three times, "Who 
 goes there?" then raised his gtm and fired in the 
 direction of the sound. He heard a groan, and 
 going to the spot discovered a large Indian, one 
 of the western Pottawattomies, dressed in a bear- 
 skin, with a quiver full of arrows. The rascal had 
 received his death-wound. He had been the cause 
 of the disappearing sentinels, and with him the 
 trouble ceased. 
 
 From time to time large bands of half-savage 
 
 54 
 
THE DISAPPEARING SENTINEL 
 
 Canadians, and Indians wrapped in colored 
 blankets, with lances or guns in their hands, painted 
 and decked with feathers, approached by way of 
 South Bay and Wood Creek, to inflict as much 
 harm as they could on outlying divisions of the 
 English. An English provision train was attacked 
 during the summer, halfway between Fort Edward 
 and the fort at the foot of Lake George, called 
 Fort William Henry, by six hundred of these ma- 
 rauders, and much booty was carried off. Rogers 
 and Putnam with one hundred volunteers were or- 
 dered to go in boats down Lake George, then to 
 leave the boats, and cross by land to the Narrows 
 of Lake Champlain, where they were to try to in- 
 tercept the enemy. 
 
 They executed the movement as directed with 
 such speed that they reached the Narrows half an 
 hour before the retreating French and Indians. 
 When the latter's boats came in view, the rangers 
 opened fire on them from the bushes, stopped many, 
 and would have captured all if the wind had not 
 blown the boats rapidly beyond gunshot into South 
 Bay. Those who escaped carried the news of the 
 attack to Ticonderoga, and a detachment was at 
 
 55 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 once sent out to cut off the rangers on their way- 
 back to Fort Edward. These missed the rangers 
 during the night, but discovered them the next day 
 on Lake George, near Sabbath-Day Point. Both 
 parties had taken to their boats — the French and 
 Indians were about three hundred in number and 
 sure of easy victory. But the rangers waited un- 
 til the opponents were within pistol shot, and then 
 fired with such effect with their wall-pieces, blunder- 
 busses, and small arms that the French and Indians 
 were routed and retreated to Ticonderoga. One 
 ranger only was killed and two slightly wounded, 
 while the loss on the other side was very heavy. 
 Putnam used this practice of not firing till the 
 enemy were near to good effect in several of his 
 Revolutionary battles, notably that of Bunker 
 Hill. 
 
 Toward the end of the summer the English 
 and Colonials at Fort Edward heard of Montcalm's 
 brilliant victory and their own disastrous defeat at 
 Oswego. This meant that the English must give 
 up for the present their scheme of attacking Fort 
 Niagara and Fort Frontenac (at the site of Kings- 
 ton, Ontario) — and it meant, too, that Montcalm 
 
 56 
 
THE DISAPPEARING SENTINEL 
 
 could concentrate all his men at Ticonderoga and 
 Crown Point. Webb, the incompetent general who 
 had been sent from England to be commander-in- 
 chief of the American forces, was so frightened that 
 he abandoned his plan of attacking Ticonder- 
 oga, and ordered the forces to make a stand at 
 Port William Henry, at the very foot of Lake 
 George. 
 
 The season of 1756 drew to a close, while French 
 and English watched each other defiantly from op- 
 posite ends of Lake Champlain. There were no 
 more battles, but the rangers were especially active 
 on the English side. Putnam was among the most 
 noted of them. General Winslow, the commander 
 at Lake George, wrote Loudon that Putnam re- 
 turned In October "from the best scout yet made." 
 "Being a man of strict truth," he adds, "he may be 
 entirely trusted." Putnam had set out on Lake 
 George in a whaleboat with six men, rowed to a 
 point on the east side, opposite the place where 
 Hague, New York, now stands, and, hiding his boat 
 there, had struck across country northeast toward 
 Lake Champlain. He and his men, in spite of the 
 French and Indians with which the woods were 
 
 57 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 swarming, managed to come within three miles of 
 Ticonderoga. They climbed a high mountain and 
 reconnoitered it thoroughly. They descended the 
 mountain, and, getting still nearer the fort, saw 
 three Frenchmen, whom they chased until the latter 
 escaped inside the French lines. Then Putnam and 
 his men climbed the mountain again and went west 
 on the top of the ridge, taking in every detail of 
 the enemy's outposts between Ticonderoga and 
 Lake George. This was certainly scouting reduced 
 to a fine art! 
 
 November i, 1756, Montcalm's forces began their 
 retreat to Canada to spend the winter. Ticon- 
 deroga was left with a guard of five or six com- 
 panies. Winslow's men also melted away, the regu- 
 lars being sent to Philadelphia, New York, and Bos- 
 ton, where they were quartered, the provincials 
 gladly hastening to their New England homes. Put- 
 nam probably went with the latter. He had fairly 
 earned his vacation ; and there is no mention of 
 his name in the activities of the rangers during the 
 coming winter. 
 
 He took home with him a powder-horn, which 
 his children examined eagerly. It had been carved 
 
 58 
 
THE DISAPPEARING SENTINEL 
 
 in camp by one of the soldiers, and had the fol- 
 lowing inscription: 
 
 CAPT. ISRAEL PUTNAm's HORN MADE AT FORT WM. 
 HENRY NOV'r IOTH A. D. I756 
 
 There was also carved upon it a rough map 
 of the route of the army from Albany to Lake 
 George, showing the stations and forts. Below 
 were the capitals WAR, with some curious de- 
 signs between them. There was also carved on 
 it the stanza: 
 
 When bows and weighty spears were used in Fight 
 Twere nervous limbs Declrd [declared] a man of might 
 But now Gun-powder scorns such strength to own 
 And Heroes not by Limbs but souls are shown. 
 
 How glad the children must have been that they 
 had a real hero for a father! This powder-horn 
 is still in existence and is owned by a great-grand- 
 son of Putnam's — Israel Waldo Putnam, of Rock- 
 land, Ohio. He has also a pair of pistols with 
 holsters, a magnet, and a brass bullet-mold of the 
 famous ranger's. 
 
VI 
 HARASSING MONTCALM 
 
VI 
 
 HARASSING MONTCALM 
 
 IT was a wonderful, still, moonlight night in 
 the early summer of 1757. A silver path was 
 splashed on the quiet water of South Bay, mak- 
 ing the woods which rose steeply on each side of 
 the narrow stream look very dark by comparison. 
 Presently might have been heard, if the bank con- 
 cealed any listeners, the faint drip-drip of paddles. 
 A line of Indian canoes stole silently down the nar- 
 row stream. They were manned chiefly with In- 
 dians, dark-skinned, half-naked, their bravery of 
 war-paint and feathers, and their crafty, fierce coun- 
 tenances plainly visible in the moonlight. In the 
 foremost canoe was a man of a different species — 
 an officer, dressed in a rough woodland uniform. 
 It was Marin, the famous partisan leader. 
 
 A sound from the west bank, trivial but startling 
 in its result, broke the stillness. It was but the 
 click of a fire-lock upon stone, but it spoke to those 
 
 63 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 in the canoes as loudly as if it had been a cannon 
 shot. 
 
 "0-\vis-s-sh !" hissed Marin, sharply, with a pro- 
 longed whistle of his breath through his teeth. It 
 was an Indian signal. The line of canoes huddled 
 together like a flock of frightened sheep. Suddenly 
 from the high western bank sounded a single gun 
 shot. At once a volley echoed it. The bullets fell 
 thick and fast upon the French and Indians in the 
 canoes, easy targets in the moonlight. Many fell 
 back into the boats, groaning. The rest, confused 
 at the sudden attack, and unable to see their ad- 
 versaries, fired wildly in the direction of the sounds. 
 The firing from the ledge continued, but the French 
 soon discovered from its comparative infrequency 
 that the body of men concealed there must be small. 
 They on their side numbered five hundred. Marin 
 gave orders for his men to land and surround the 
 firing party. 
 
 The leader of this was no other than Israel Put- 
 nam. He had returned to Fort Edward in the 
 early summer, and finding that the rangers' ser- 
 vices were still indispensable, had taken up the work 
 again with his usual activity. He was now at the 
 
 64 
 
HARASSING MONTCALM 
 
 head of a band of only sixty men, who had con- 
 cealed themselves behind a stone parapet on the 
 west bank they had built and covered with pine 
 trees for the purpose. From this ambuscade they 
 had been watching for some hours for the arrival 
 of the much larger force of French and Indians 
 they knew were on their way to harass the English. 
 
 Anticipating that the enemy would attempt to 
 surround him, Putnam early in the fight sent small 
 detachments up and down the shore to prevent them. 
 These succeeded in repulsing the French all night, 
 while those behind the ledge kept up their galling 
 fire. At dawn, however, the enemy succeeded in 
 landing. Putnam and his party were now in great 
 danger, as their numbers were so much smaller, 
 and they had only a short supply of ammunition 
 left. Putnam accordingly gave the order to "swing 
 their packs." They retired rapidly up Wood Creek, 
 with the loss only of three men, while the French 
 and Indians lost half their number. It was the 
 greatest victory any of the scouting parties had 
 won during the war. 
 
 On the way back to Fort Edward shots suddenly 
 rang through the woods and one of Putnam's men 
 
 65 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 was wounded. Putnam gave the word for his men 
 to charge. They were about to do so when a voice 
 cried, "Stop! We are friends," and one of Put- 
 nam's provincial comrades, also a ranger, plunged 
 through the bushes with his men. They were out 
 for a scouting trip, and he had recognized Putnam's 
 voice as he gave the order to fire in time to prevent 
 the disaster. 
 
 "Friends or enemies," shouted Putnam, 
 brusquely, "you all deserve to be hanged for not 
 killing more, when you had so fair a shot!" 
 
 About a month later Putnam and his rangers 
 were stationed on an island in the Hudson not far 
 from Fort Edward, when they heard the sound of 
 firing from near the fort, and knew a band of 
 the enemy must be attacking. Without an instant's 
 delay Putnam plunged into the river, calling his 
 men to follow him, and swam or waded across. On 
 the other bank, near the fort, was a swamp. Here 
 a party of fifteen men from the fort, under guard 
 of fifty regular soldiers, had been cutting timber. 
 Suddenly an arrow from the thickets had whizzed 
 above the head of one of them. He gave the alarm, 
 when two hundred men, chiefly Indians, under Ma- 
 
 66 
 
HARASSING MONTCALM 
 
 rin, began firing from the bushes at the unfortu- 
 nate workmen and soldiers. 
 
 Those in the fort closed the gates, and called in 
 the outposts. Putnam and his men arrived to find 
 that the men in the swamp were being left to the 
 mercy of the much larger force of French and In- 
 dians. There was no hesitation in Putnam's mind. 
 He hastened at once to their rescue. As he passed 
 the fort General Lyman, unwilling to see him and 
 his men sacrificed, mounted the parapet and called 
 to him to go no further. 
 
 Putnam had not yet learned that in war obedi- 
 ence to a superior officer is the first of all the vir- 
 tues. He disregarded the General's command and 
 marched on to the assistance of the harassed party. 
 After fighting for an hour, he led a sudden charge 
 into the swamp where the Indians were concealed. 
 Surprised at the attack, they gave way, and Put- 
 nam and his men chased them into full retreat. On 
 this occasion Lyman overlooked the crime of his 
 rash subordinate. The same afternoon Putnam was 
 put in command of two hundred men and sent in 
 further pursuit of the enemy. The following ac- 
 count of his tactics is from the pen of Rufus Put- 
 
 ^7 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 nam, a talented young cousin of Israel's. He was 
 eighteen years of age, and had joined the provincial 
 army at the beginning of this year's campaign. 
 
 "We marched on the Indian trail until sunset; 
 Captain Putnam then ordered three of us to follow 
 the trail a mile or more farther and there lie close 
 till it was quite dark, and to observe if any came 
 back, 'for,' said he, *if they do not embark in their 
 boats tonight, they will send a party back to see if 
 they are pursued.' We went according to orders, 
 but made no discovery. And here I would remark 
 that Captain Putnam's precaution struck my mind 
 very forcibly as a maxim always to be observed, 
 whether you are pursuing or pursued by an enemy, 
 especially in the woods. It was the first idea of 
 generalship that I remember to have treasured up." 
 
 On the next day, July 24, Putnam and his rang- 
 ers returned, "having discovered an encampment 
 of about five hundred or six hundred men near Fort 
 Anne." This was an old fort halfway up Lake 
 George, which had been used in former wars, and 
 was now abandoned and falling into decay. 
 
 General Webb was especially uneasy at this time, 
 for many of his soldiers had been taken away by 
 
 68 
 
HARASSING MONTCALM 
 
 General Loudon in an attack on Louisbourg, in 
 Cape Breton Harbor, and with the small forces he 
 had left he feared an attack from Montcalm. 
 Rumors had reached him that Montcalm was gath- 
 ering his forces at Ticonderoga for an attack upon 
 Fort William Henry, at the lower end of Lake 
 George. He accordingly set out under the escort 
 of Putnam and some men to reconnoiter. When 
 the party reached Fort William Henry, they found 
 that the rangers there had been unsuccessful in their 
 attempts to reconnoiter at night. Putnam wished 
 to undertake the task in broad daylight, with only 
 five men. Webb thought this too dangerous, but 
 finally allowed him to take eighteen volunteers 
 down Lake George in three whale-boats. On this 
 expedition Putnam's party had a narrow escape. 
 They were hotly pursued by a swarm of French 
 and Indians in canoes, but managed to get away. 
 Putnam had seen enough to convince him that 
 the rumors about Montcalm's intentions were true. 
 He informed Webb of his opinion. Webb agreed 
 with him, but told him not to speak of his discov- 
 eries to anyone else, and to prepare to return to 
 Fort Edward with him at once. 
 
 69 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Putman, too blunt to hide 
 his astonishment. "Your Excellency does not in- 
 tend to neglect so fair an opportunity of giving 
 battle should the enemy presume to land?" 
 
 "What do you think we should do here?" re- 
 turned the General curtly. He was by no means so 
 anxious for the fray as was his brave subordinate. 
 
 Putnam reluctantly escorted the cautious General 
 back to Fort Edward. There the latter, who found 
 himself more at home in writing than fighting, 
 penned a letter to the Governor of New York, ask- 
 ing for militia reenforcements. 
 
 "I am determined to march to Fort William 
 Henry with the whole army under my command as 
 soon as I shall hear of the farther approach of the 
 enemy," he declared boldly. You will see how well 
 he lived up to his resolution. Meanwhile he sent 
 one thousand men, with valuable baggage and camp 
 equipment, to Fort William Henry, in spite of Put- 
 nam's remonstrances. Putnam seems to have had a 
 premonition that the fort would be taken. He 
 longed, however, to be of use there, and fairly ate 
 his heart out with impatience when Webb kept him 
 at Fort Edward. 
 
 70 
 
VII 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF FORT WILLIAM 
 HENRY 
 
VII 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF FORT WILLIAM HENRY 
 
 IN the meantime all that Putnam had surmised, 
 and more, was taking place at Ticonderoga. 
 All that spring Montcalm had been busy- 
 gathering his Indian allies, singing the war-song 
 with them and listening with forced patience to 
 their interminable speeches. More than one thou- 
 sand Indians from the West and North, some of 
 whom had never before visited a French settlement, 
 were gathered in Montreal. They were eager to see 
 the great chief who had taken Oswego. One of 
 them, surprised at Montcalm's short height, had ad- 
 dressed him thus : 
 
 "We wanted to see the famous man who tram- 
 ples the English under his feet. We thought we 
 should find him so tall that his head would be lost 
 in the clouds. But you are a little man, my Father. 
 It is when we look into your eyes that we see the 
 greatness of the pine-tree and the fire of the eagle." 
 
 73 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Soon the whole force, French regulars, Canadian 
 coureurs de bois (bush-rangers, or literally, run- 
 ners of the woods), and Indians, took up their 
 march towards Lake Champlain and reached Ti- 
 conderoga by the end of July. It was a strange 
 mixture of races and civilizations which gathered 
 in this forest stronghold. Here were officers from 
 Old France, in their white uniforms, fine gentlemen 
 with the exquisite manners and speech of court 
 dandies, who could bow over a lady's fan with all 
 the grace in the world — and could also witness 
 the butchery of wounded prisoners and the taking 
 of scalps by their savage allies with an equally pleas- 
 ant nonchalance. Here were the savages them- 
 selves — the "Christian" Indians from the missions 
 of the Penobscot, Caughnawaga, and La Presenta- 
 tion on the St. Lawrence, who showed their Chris- 
 tianity by an extra garment or two and by attending 
 confession before going to battle. Otherwise, they 
 were as ferocious as the heathen Indians from the 
 West, who were there in great numbers, naked ex- 
 cept for a strip of cloth, horribly painted, with 
 rings of brass wire in their ears, and beads and 
 feathers tied to their scalp-locks. These "made 
 
 74 
 
THE TRAGEDY OF FORT WILLIAM HENRY 
 
 medicine" before the battle, and hung up offerings 
 of dead dogs or other valuable gifts to the Mani- 
 tou, or Great Spirit, to ensure success. One tribe, 
 the lowas, spoke a language which no interpreter 
 understood. The Christian Indians were well pro- 
 vided with guns. The heathens carried lances, stone 
 war-clubs, or bows and arrows, with quivers made 
 from the skins of beasts. All the Indians were, 
 almost without exception, splendidly straight, tall, 
 well-formed men. Their appetite for both meat 
 and drink was enormous, and they consumed, where 
 they could get them, three weeks' rations in a day. 
 
 On the first of August the rays of the setting 
 sun reddened the water of Lake George till it looked 
 like blood. A great fleet was gathered there — flat- 
 boats, heavy bateaux, and graceful birch canoes. 
 The hour had come — and a force of seventy-six 
 hundred French and Indians was on its way to at- 
 tack Fort William Henry. All night they trav- 
 eled. The next day they were on the shore of the 
 lake but a few rods from the fort. 
 
 Colonel Monro, a brave Scotch veteran, was in 
 command of the English fort with a small force. 
 When his scouts informed him that the French 
 
 75 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and Indians were approaching in large numbers, 
 he sent a messenger post haste to Webb, at Fort 
 Edward, fourteen miles away. 
 
 Now was the time for Webb to move, before the 
 fort was invested and approach to it cut off. In- 
 stead, he sat down at his desk and madly scrib- 
 bled a note to New England for help which could 
 not possibly arrive in time. 
 
 Putnam and the other brave soldiers at Fort 
 Edward were wild to go to the rescue when they 
 heard the sound of heavy firing. They waited anx- 
 iously. Surely Webb would do something now to 
 help his comrade in distress. 
 
 But no command came for them to go, in spite 
 of many other notes which Webb received from 
 Colonel Monro. Day after day the distant can- 
 nonading continued. During this time some reen- 
 forcements arrived at Fort Edward — Putnam's old 
 chief, Sir William Johnson, with militia from Al- 
 bany and a band of his friends, the Mohawk In- 
 dians, Putnam was delighted to greet his old chief. 
 Surely, with this help, Webb would make some ef- 
 fort to relieve Colonel Monro. 
 
 He was soon overjoyed to hear that General 
 76 
 
THE TRAGEDY OF FORT WILLIAM HENRY 
 
 Johnson was to start for the Lake with a reen- 
 forcement, and that he, Israel Putnam, was to ac- 
 company him, at the head of his rangers. They 
 quickly made ready and marched out of the gate; 
 but they had hardly gone three miles before a mes- 
 senger hurried after them with word from Webb 
 that they were to return. Hot with rage and mor- 
 tification, Putnam and the others obeyed. A year 
 later, when Putnam was a prisoner in Canada, he 
 was told by Montcalm himself that the intended 
 movement on the part of the English had been re- 
 ported to him by an Indian scout, who said, "If you 
 can count the leaves on the trees you can count 
 them," and that this news seriously alarmed Mont- 
 calm and made him consider retreating. 
 
 The suspense continued for two more days. On 
 the evening of Monday, August 8, the watchers at 
 Fort Edward saw rockets flaming and dying against 
 the sky, a last signal of distress from the be- 
 leaguered fort. Tuesday morning the cannonad- 
 ing ceased. At ten a messenger reached the fort. 
 He said that those at Fort William Henry had split 
 most of their cannon, and that if reenforcements 
 did not arrive they must surrender. It was too 
 
 77 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 late even then for help. They had already sur- 
 rendered. That was what the silence of the cannon 
 had signified. 
 
 Webb, in a panic for the safety of his own gar- 
 rison, was on the verge of retreating. While he 
 hesitated, terrible things were going on at Fort 
 William Henry, The English, who had surren- 
 dered under promise of good treatment, were set 
 upon by the Indians, and many of them were mur- 
 dered in cold blood. Others had their clothing all 
 torn off, their baggage stolen, and many women 
 and children were carried away. The Canadian 
 officers looked on without making an effort to guard 
 those they were in honor bound to protect. Mont- 
 calm and some of the other French officers finally 
 forced the blood-thirsty savages to stop, and sent 
 the surviving prisoners under a strong guard to 
 Fort Edward. Others escaped from the Indians, 
 hid themselves in the thick woods, and were finally 
 guided to Fort Edward by the cannon-shots those 
 in the fort fired for that purpose. One after an- 
 other they reached the fort, nearly naked, torn 
 by briers and brambles, and half -dead from hunger 
 and thirst. Putnam's heart swelled with rage and 
 
 78 
 
THE TRAGEDY OF FORT WILLIAM HENRY 
 
 pity at the sight of them. He was the first to 
 reconnoiter and find that the French and Indians 
 had abandoned Ticonderoga and were returning to 
 Canada. With this news he calmed the fears of 
 Webb and persuaded him not to retreat. 
 
 A few days after the tragedy Putnam visited the 
 site of Fort William Henry. He could not bear 
 to look at what he saw. The fort had gone. In 
 its place there smoldered the last of a great bon- 
 fire — all that was left of the timbers of the fort 
 and the bodies of the men, women and children 
 who had been sacrificed to Indian rage. 
 
VIII 
 TICONDEROGA 
 
VIII 
 TICONDEROGA 
 
 IF Montcalm had advanced, instead of retreat- 
 ing to Canada after his victory at Fort WilHam 
 Henry, he might possibly have swept the coun- 
 try. Webb was all ready to abandon his forts and 
 retreat to the Highlands of the Hudson. The colo- 
 nies were in a panic, and greatly exaggerated re- 
 ports of the numbers and ferocity of the French 
 swept through them like wildfire. Luckily, the 
 French commander did not follow up his victory; 
 and Webb and his garrison remained undisturbed 
 at Fort Edward. 
 
 They were not greatly cheered by the arrival, in 
 November, of Loudon, with reenforcements, for 
 these brought the news of the utter failure of the 
 English attempt to take Louisbourg on Cape Breton 
 Island ; but at least their arrival meant that most 
 of the New England men were released and could 
 go home. 
 
 83 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Putnam, however, again remained on duty dur- 
 ing this winter of 1757 to 1758. It was not long be- 
 fore he had another opportunity to distinguish 
 himself. One day, while he was working on an 
 island in the Hudson near Fort Edward, he heard 
 shouts from the fort and saw smoke rising from 
 the barracks. The soldiers snatched buckets, and 
 formed in line to pass water up from the river, but, 
 in spite of their efforts, tongues of flame began 
 to lick the wooden walls, and Putnam saw that it 
 would be a serious conflagration. Worst of all, the 
 barracks directly adjoined upon the magazine where 
 gunpowder was stored! 
 
 Putnam ran for his boat and quickly reached the 
 mainland. He dashed up the slope, and took his 
 stand at the head of the bucket line, on the top of 
 a ladder, from which he poured water on the eaves. 
 Clouds of suffocating smoke volleyed around him. 
 He was so near the fire that his thick pair of wool- 
 en mittens was burnt from his hands. He called 
 for another pair, dipped in water, and continued 
 work. 
 
 "Putnam, come down," called Colonel Haviland, 
 the commander. "You will be burned to death!" 
 
 84 
 
TICONDEROGA 
 
 "I beg you, Colonel, to let me stay," called Put- 
 nam. "If I stop now, the magazine will surely be 
 blown up." 
 
 "Stay if you will," exclaimed the Colonel, "but at 
 least you'll not stay alone. At it again, men! If 
 we must be blown up, we will all go together." The 
 men, inspired by Putnam's bravery, redoubled their 
 efforts. 
 
 The timbers of the barracks began to collapse. 
 Putnam had to descend from his ladder, but kept 
 on pouring water on the magazine from the ground. 
 Nearer and nearer the magazine ran the greedy 
 spurts of flame. Now they were at the outside 
 planks — now they had eaten through these, and 
 only the frail thickness of the inside planks stood 
 between them and the gunpowder. 
 
 Just at this point the bucketfuls of water passed 
 by the soldiers to Putnam began to take effect. 
 Slowly, slowly, the fire was beaten back. After 
 an hour and a half of fighting the flames at close 
 range, Putnam could leave his post. His face, 
 hands, arms and body were blistered; when he 
 pulled off the second pair of mittens, the skin came 
 with them. The Commander could not hide his 
 
 85 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 emotion as he thanked him. It was a month before 
 Putnam recovered from his burns. 
 
 After several more months of scouting, and vari- 
 ous adventures, Putnam left in the spring of 1758 
 for a brief visit to his family. When he returned 
 to Albany in June he had been raised by the Con- 
 necticut Assembly to the rank of Provincial Major. 
 I^udon had been recalled to England, and Aber- 
 crombie, a scarcely more competent officer, who 
 had been put in power by political influence, had 
 been raised to the rank of commander-in-chief of 
 the American forces in his place. But a new light 
 had come into the army in the person of Lord 
 Howe, the second in rank, whom Pitt, the English 
 war minister, hoped would have the real command. 
 
 Putnam had met Lord Howe during the previ- 
 ous fall, and they had become great friends. Lord 
 Howe had gone camping with the rangers, shar- 
 ing all their hardships, in order to learn the best 
 methods of fighting and scouting in this woodland 
 country. Now he was showing the soldiers how 
 to fight like them. He broke all the traditions of 
 the service by making officers and men throw away 
 all useless baggage, cut off the heavy skirts of their 
 
 86 
 
TICONDEROGA 
 
 coats, cut their hair short, instead of wearing it 
 powdered and in a ridiculous queue, wear leggings 
 to protect them from briers, brown the barrels of 
 their muskets, and carry in their knapsacks enough 
 Indian meal to last them for several weeks. He 
 went to the brook and washed his own linen, en- 
 couraging his officers to do likewise. It must have 
 been a hard task for some of those fat and digni- 
 fied men ! He invited them to a dinner where there 
 were no seats but logs, and no rugs but bearskins, 
 and the only dishes were bacon and boiled peas, 
 with no implements to eat them with. When his 
 officers hesitated, at a loss as to the proper etiquette, 
 he pulled out a sheath containing a knife and fork 
 from his pocket and began to cut the meat. 
 
 "Is it possible, gentlemen," he said, looking up 
 as if just noticing his guests' embarrassment, "that 
 you have come on this campaign without providing 
 yourselves with what is necessary?" And he gave 
 each of them a knife and fork like his own. 
 
 In spite of his strict discipHne, all the officers 
 and men adored him. A new wave of enthusiasm, 
 at his presence, seemed to overrun the camps. 
 
 Now all were preparing for an attack on Ticon- 
 87 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 deroga, the French stronghold, and so confident 
 were the forces that they fully expected to make 
 up for the sad defeat at Fort William Henry, gain 
 the fortress, and drive the French from Lake Cham- 
 plain. On July 5, 1758, the army of more than 
 fifteen thousand men embarked on Lake George. 
 It was an inspiring sight. One of the soldiers ex- 
 pressed the feelings of all when he wrote after- 
 wards: "I never beheld so delightful a prospect." 
 Joy must have filled Putnam's heart to be a 
 Major in that gallant army, with its glittering 
 weapons flashing in the sun, its bright uniforms 
 (among which the plaids and kilts of the newly 
 arrived Highlanders were conspicuous), its mar- 
 tial music of bagpipe, fife and drum awaking the 
 woodland echoes around the lake. The bateaux 
 and whale-boats, rafts and heavy flatboats loaded 
 with artillery were rowed with regular strokes over 
 the sparkling waters, amid countless islands, be- 
 tween high and wooded banks. At five in the after- 
 noon they encamped at Sabbath-Day camp, but they 
 took up their journey that same night, and at sun- 
 rise the next morning passed under a high rock, 
 called Rogers' Rock, after the famous ranger. Here, 
 
 88 
 
TICONDEROGA 
 
 unknown to them, a French advance guard, under 
 the officers Langy and Trepezec, lay among the 
 pines at the top, and observed their progress. They 
 thought themselves too few in number to attack the 
 English. 
 
 The English landed, and formed in order for 
 the march through the woods towards Ticonderoga. 
 Rogers and a party of rangers led the way. The 
 main army, in columns, followed. Lord Howe was 
 at the head of the principal column, and Israel 
 Putnam with two hundred rangers accompanied 
 him. 
 
 The army advanced with great difficulty through 
 the shady forest, climbing over huge fallen logs, 
 tearing themselves on the underbrush, bewildered 
 by the intricacy of the woodland paths. Presently 
 even the rangers and guides in front became con- 
 fused, and did not know which way to turn. The 
 whole army was lost in the woods. So dense was 
 the canopy of green over them that only the cawing 
 of crows could have signified to any watchers that 
 men were marching there. 
 
 Suddenly, when they were about two miles from 
 the landing-place, a voice rang out of the thicket: 
 
 89 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 "Qui vive?" (Who goes there?) 
 
 "Franqais" replied the EngHsh — but the accent 
 was faulty and did not deceive the critical ear of 
 the challengers. They were no other than the small 
 force of French under Langy and Trepezec who 
 had watched the English from the top of Rogers' 
 Rock. They had taken a detour, meaning to re- 
 join tlieir camp at Ticonderoga and warn the French 
 of the English approach — but they also, like the 
 advancing army, were lost in the woods. The Eng- 
 lish were now between them and the fort, and 
 they were compelled to fight, though their number 
 was much smaller. They rose to the occasion 
 bravely. 
 
 "Putnam," said Lord Howe, "what does that 
 firing ahead mean?" 
 
 "I don't know, but with your Lordship's leave I'll 
 go and see," answered Putnam eagerly. 
 
 "I'll come with you," said Lord Howe. 
 
 Putnam disapproved. He was ready enough to 
 risk his own life, but did not wish Lord Howe to 
 do so. 
 
 "Lord Howe," he argued, "if I am killed, the 
 loss of my life will be of little consequence — but 
 
 90 
 
TICONDEROGA 
 
 the preservation of yours is of infinite importance 
 to this army." 
 
 "Nonsense ! Your life is as dear to you, Putnam, 
 as mine is to me. I am determined to go," an- 
 swered Howe. 
 
 The blunt New England Major and the gallant 
 young English Lord hastened to the front with a 
 detachment. A hot skirmish with the attacking 
 party followed. In the middle of it Lord Howe 
 dropped dead, shot through the breast. With him 
 died the success of the campaign. 
 
 A panic seized the troops behind, who heard the 
 firing, but saw nothing, and imagined themselves 
 attacked by a much larger force than was the case. 
 Putnam and his rangers, however, kept up the fight 
 till the main army came to its senses. When they 
 advanced, they mistook Putnam's party for the en- 
 emy, and fired at them. A sergeant and several 
 privates were killed, and a more serious loss was 
 only avoided by Putnam's running through the fly- 
 ing balls and warning them of their mistake. 
 
 The French suffered great losses, only fifty out 
 of their band escaping. The English number of 
 men killed was few — but in losing Lord Howe they 
 
 91 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 lost the soul and brains of the army. General Aber- 
 crombie went all to pieces. He kept the army un- 
 der arms all night without cause, and in the morn- 
 ing marched them back to the landing-place. Put- 
 nam was employed immediately after the battle in 
 caring for the wounded, a task which his kind heart 
 made him perform as thoroughly as possible. He 
 gave them all the food and liquid refreshment he 
 could get, and a blanket apiece. He was espe- 
 cially sorry for a French officer who had been 
 badly wounded, placed three blankets under him, 
 and propped him up in as comfortable a position as 
 possible by the side of a tree. The poor man could 
 only show his gratitude by squeezing his hand. 
 
 "Ah," said Putnam, "depend upon it, my brave 
 soldier, you shall be brought to the camp as soon 
 as possible, and the same care shall be taken of 
 you as if you were my brother." 
 
 What was his horror to learn the next day that 
 Rogers, the ranger, who had been sent to the field 
 to carry off the wounded, had killed every one of 
 them who was not able to march ! 
 
 Meanwhile Montcalm was strengthening his po- 
 sition at Ticonderoga. His men worked like mad 
 
 92 
 
TICONDEROGA 
 
 all during the day, cutting down the forests around 
 the fort to form a sort of zig-zag breastwork of 
 felled logs, and in front of that a wide expanse 
 covered with the trees as they fell, placed with tops 
 out, so that the spreading branches formed an im- 
 penetrable entanglement. 
 
 It was an impossible place for infantry to at- 
 tack, without the aid of cannon to shatter the log 
 walls of the defense. Nevertheless, Abercrombie, 
 who had heard that Montcalm expected reenforce- 
 ments, hurried on his preparations, and resolved to 
 attack without waiting to bring on his artillery 
 wagons. Putnam and the officers were fully aware 
 of the foolishness of the proceedings, but they 
 remonstrated in vain. Soon after noon, July 8, 
 the whole English army, rangers, light Infantry, 
 armed boatmen, and all, moved forward in an at- 
 tempt to storm the French breastwork. 
 
 They reached the ground covered with fallen 
 trees under a hail of bullets from the French hid- 
 den behind the breastworks. Then the scene be- 
 came frightful. The men were caught on the forked 
 branches, and could neither go forward or back. 
 "Straining," as Parkman describes it, "for an en- 
 
 93 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 emy they could not reach, and firing on an enemy 
 they could not see; caught in the entanglement of 
 fallen trees; tripped by briers, stumbling over logs, 
 tearing through boughs ; shouting, yelling, cursing, 
 and pelted all the while with bullets that killed 
 them by scores, stretched them on the ground, or 
 hung them on jagged branches in strange attitudes 
 of death," the poor soldiers paid with their lives for 
 their commander's incompetency. Putnam as usual 
 was in the thick of the fight, and acted as aid in 
 bringing the provincial regiments successively to 
 action. With that wonderful luck of his, he escaped 
 unhurt — but the English lost in the dreadful action 
 more than two thousand killed or wounded, and 
 finally, after six desperate assaults, which continued 
 all during the afternoon, were forced to retire at 
 sunset. Major Putnam remained before the lines 
 for an hour and a half longer, to cover with his 
 rangers the retreat of the main body of troops, by 
 keeping up a continuous fire from behind the stumps 
 and bushes. 
 
 During the night the discouraged English stum- 
 bled back to their landing-place. In the morning 
 Abercrombie gave up all attempt on Ticonderoga, 
 
 94 
 
TICONDEROGA 
 
 though he still had thirteen thousand men, with 
 whom he might have renewed the attack with artil- 
 lery. Instead, he ordered all his men to embark for 
 the foot of Lake George. They set out "in great 
 confusion and sorrow," and in such haste that they 
 left several hundred barrels of provisions and a 
 large quantity of baggage in the mud of the land- 
 ing-place. This time the fifes and drums were silent 
 — there were stains of blood on the bright uniforms 
 — and the wounded groaned on the floors of the 
 barges. So they returned in defeat to the gloomy 
 site of Fort William Henry. 
 
 After this retreat the New England soldiers gave 
 Abercrombie a new name, in recognition of his old- 
 womanish caution. They called him "Aunt Nabby- 
 crombie" I 
 
IX 
 CAPTIVITY 
 
IX 
 
 CAPTIVITY 
 
 ^UTNAM'S thoughts were diverted from the 
 harrowing battle of Ticonderoga by a thrill- 
 ing experience he had not long after on the 
 Hudson. He was once more employed in the rang- 
 ing service. One day he was in a bateau with five 
 men on the eastern shore, when his men on the 
 opposite bank signaled to him that a large num- 
 ber of Indians were approaching in his rear, and 
 would be upon him in an instant. Below Putnam 
 were rapids so dangerous that no one had ever navi- 
 gated them; he had no choice but to fall into the 
 hands of the Indians, expose himself to their fire 
 in crossing the river, or run the rapids. He decided 
 to risk the latter. He and his boatmen pushed off, 
 just as the Indians arrived on the shore and fired 
 on them. The current carried them rapidly beyond 
 gunshot, but they were now in the greatest danger 
 from the water, which swirled and boiled around 
 
 99 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 them, in eddies and whirlpools and treacherous 
 rock-slides. The rapids extended for a quarter of a 
 mile. 
 
 Putnam was at the helm. He incessantly changed 
 the course to escape what seemed certain destruc- 
 tion. Twice he turned the boat almost completely 
 around to avoid rocks, while huge waves threat- 
 ened to break over, now the sides, now the stem 
 and now the bow. His comrades and the savages 
 both watched him in amazement from opposite 
 banks. Sometimes the boat was on the top of the 
 waves, sometimes it was plunging down, and then 
 it shot through narrow passages where it seemed 
 that only a miracle could keep it from striking the 
 rocks which were barely submerged at each side. 
 But at last he gained the smooth water. Then the 
 Indians pressed their hands to their mouths in their 
 gesture expressing amazement. They thought he 
 was under the special protection 'of the Great Spirit 
 — as perhaps he was! 
 
 But he was soon to be in worse danger. The ran- 
 gers were kept especially busy during this summer 
 of 1758, reconnoitering the woods and seeing that 
 Montcalm's forces, which soon returned to Ticon- 
 
 100 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 deroga, did not surprise the timid Abercrombie at 
 his camp at Fort Edward. On July 31 Rogers, 
 Putnam, Captain Dalzell, and seven hundred men 
 were sent to South Bay with orders to intercept a 
 French war-party which Abercrombie believed had 
 been hovering about Fort Edward. When they 
 reached South Bay they discovered that the enemy 
 had escaped them. They therefore turned about 
 and began the march back to Fort Edward. They 
 passed the place where Whitehall, New York, now 
 stands, and encamped for the night on a fork of 
 Wood Creek about a mile from the old Fort Anne. 
 
 The next morning, Rogers, who thought the en- 
 emy was nowhere near, was foolish enough to en- 
 gage in a shooting contest, firing at a target with 
 Lieutenant Irwin for a wager. This was against 
 all scouting principles, Putnam remonstrated, but 
 in vain. 
 
 Four hundred and fifty French and Indians near- 
 by, under the leadership of Marin, the famous 
 woodsman, whom Putnam had fought against be- 
 fore, heard the shots, and prepared to surprise the 
 English by hiding in the bushes near the trail they 
 judged the English would follow. 
 
 Id 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 The English did exactly what was expected of 
 them. They took up their march in the early 
 evening. Their trail led past the old clearing 
 around Fort Anne, which, having been neglected 
 for years, was grown over with a thick under- 
 brush, "almost impervious to anything but a wild- 
 cat." On the narrow trail which led through this 
 jungle the English marched unsuspiciously, single 
 file, in the gathering dusk. Putnam headed the pro- 
 cession, followed by the Connecticut men, Cap- 
 tain Dalzell and his regulars were in the center, 
 Rogers and his Rangers at the rear. 
 
 Putnam was just about to leave the bushes and 
 enter the forest, when a burst of yells smote his 
 ears, and he saw that the thickets, which a moment 
 before had been motionless, were alive with In- 
 dians, leaping, crouching, and gliding like snakes. 
 He snatched his gun. At that moment a tall 
 Caughnawaga chief sprang at him, hatchet in hand. 
 Putnam cocked his gun and snapped it at the breast 
 of his adversary, but it missed fire. The Indian 
 seized him and dragged him into the forest. 
 
 Meanwhile Dalzeil struggled to the rescue, and 
 Rogers, who was nearly a mile behind, heard the 
 
 102 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 shots and tore with his rangers at top speed through 
 the bushes. When they came up, they found the 
 Connecticut men fighting bravely, but at great dis- 
 advantage, for the enemy were in a semi-circle 
 around them, almost completely hidden in the 
 bushes. The English fought desperately for two 
 hours. At the end of that time the Canadians lost 
 heart and many of them deserted Marin. The 
 English finally succeeded in driving them all back 
 into the forest. While this was going on, Putnam 
 was having trials of his own. 
 
 His position was about as bad as it could be. 
 The savage who had captured him had tied him to 
 a tree, and soon, when the English pressed forward, 
 Putnam discovered, to his horror, that he was di- 
 rectly between the two firing lines. The balls 
 whistled round him — many struck the tree, and 
 some passed through the sleeves and skirt of his 
 coat. This lasted for more than an hour. Mean- 
 while a young warrior amused himself by hurling 
 a tomahawk at Putnam's head, to see how near he 
 could come to him without killing him. A French 
 petty officer came up and leveled a fusee within a 
 foot of his breast, and tried to discharge it, but it 
 
 103 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 missed fire. He then struck Putnam in the ribs 
 with the muzzle of his gun, and gave him a cruel 
 blow on the jaw with the butt-end of the piece. 
 
 Finally, when the French and Indians began to 
 retreat, Putnam's master, the chief who had cap- 
 tured him, came and untied him, stripped him of 
 his coat, vest, stockings and shoes, loaded him with 
 as many packs of the wounded as could be piled on 
 him, then pinioned him and tied his wrists tightly 
 together. They took up their march over the rough 
 paths of the forest. Putnam staggered under the 
 heavy load, which was far beyond what any one 
 man should have carried ; his feet were bleeding, 
 and he suffered intolerable pain from the ropes cut- 
 ting into his wrists. When they halted, after a 
 march of many miles, he begged the Irish inter- 
 preter to ask the savages either to knock him in the 
 head and take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. 
 A French officer, hearing this, ordered his hands 
 unbound and some of the packs taken off. 
 
 Just then Putnam's Indian master came up. He 
 had been at the rear, in charge of the wounded. He 
 expressed great indignation at the treatment his 
 captive had received ; but he presently went back to 
 
 104 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 his wounded, and Putnam was left to the mercy of 
 the other Indians, who took him on ahead to the 
 place where the whole party was to encamp. 
 
 On the way one of them wounded him with a 
 tomahawk on his left cheek — the scar of which he 
 bore to his dying day. It was a taste of worse treat- 
 ment to follow. When the Indians reached a place 
 in the forest where they thought themselves safe 
 from interference, they prepared to burn him 
 alive. 
 
 They stripped him of his clothes, bound him to 
 a tree, and piled dry brush in a circle around him, 
 yelling meanwhile like so many fiends. Then they 
 set the pile on fire. The flames disclosed a har- 
 rowing scene — the hideous painted faces, feather 
 headdresses and dusky bodies of the savages, 
 thrown into a lurid relief against the gloomy 
 shadows of the forest, and in the middle their 
 white captive, writhing and struggling in vain to 
 break the bands that held him. 
 
 No sooner were the flames well started on the 
 outside of the heap than a sudden shower put them 
 all out. The Indians lighted them again with sparks 
 from their flints. Now the twigs crackled as the 
 
 105 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 flames ran fiercely around the circle. Putnam be- 
 gan to feel the scorching heat. They had tied him 
 so that he could move his body from side to side, 
 as the flames approached him — and as he involun- 
 tarily did so, they grinned and leaped and yelled 
 in inhuman delight. 
 
 Thoughts of his wife and children in the peace- 
 ful Connecticut home flashed through Putnam's 
 mind. At last he had met, in its most horrible 
 form, the death that had dogged him so many times 
 in his hairbreadth adventures. It was fairly upon 
 him — and nevermore, he thought, would he enter 
 the old gate under the apple trees, caress the chil- 
 dren who came running joyfully at his hail, and 
 gather his dear wife to his embrace. These thoughts 
 were seared from his mind by the increasing heat. 
 He commended his soul to God and prepared to 
 die like a brave man ; when, suddenly, a commo- 
 tion in the crowd about him reached his dulled 
 ears. An officer b'-oke through the throng of sav- 
 ages, kicked aside the burning brands, and unbound 
 the scorched captive. It was Marin himself, who 
 had been informed by an Indian of the proceed- 
 ings. He upbraided the savage wretches violently, 
 
 io6 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 and remained on the spot till Putnam's master ar- 
 rived, to whom he delivered his charge. 
 
 The chief seemed inclined to be friendly. He of- 
 fered Putnam some hard biscuit to eat, but finding 
 he could not chew, on account of the blow in the 
 jaw he had received from the rascally French of- 
 ficer, soaked some of the biscuit in water and gave 
 him the soft part to eat. He was determined, how- 
 ever, that Putnam should not escape. Probably he 
 had heard of his immunity in forest fighting thus 
 far, and thought he needed to take special precau- 
 tions. He therefore removed the moccasins from 
 Putnam's feet, made him lie down on his back on 
 the bare ground, stretched his arms and legs as 
 far apart as possible and fastened them with ropes 
 to young saplings. This method, called the "St. 
 Andrew's Cross," had been used by the Indians to 
 secure prisoners from time immemorial. He then 
 laid saplings across his body; on the ends of which 
 as many Indians as there was room for stretched 
 themselves for the night, so that the slightest 
 movement on the part of the captive would waken 
 them. 
 
 Putnam lay in this painful position till morning. 
 107 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 In spite of the positive agony that it caused him, 
 in his sore and wounded condition, he could not 
 help smiling at tlie thought of how ridiculous he 
 must look. 
 
 The next morning he was given his blanket and 
 moccasins, and allowed to march without carrying 
 a pack. His master also gave him a little bear's 
 meat to suck through his teeth. At night the party 
 reached Ticonderoga. Here the captive was placed 
 in charge of a French guard ; at which precaution 
 the Indians made faces and gestures expressive of 
 great disgust. 
 
 Now Putnam met the famous Montcalm, and 
 found him a small man, with quick, decided move- 
 ments and a rapid, vehement way of speaking. 
 Like Putnam, he was a lover of country life — he 
 mourned much for the olives and mulberry trees 
 at his home in "the pleasant land of France." He 
 was a devoted husband and father, too, and wrote 
 long, tender letters to his wife and mother in be- 
 tween his fierce campaigns. Though he had proved 
 careless — or not careful enough — at Ticonderoga, 
 on other occasions he used every means in his 
 power to restrain the barbarities of his Indian al- 
 
 io8 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 lies, "ces vilains Messieurs," "these ugly gentle- 
 men," as he called them. 
 
 He was sorry for Putnam's sad plight, and after 
 a short conversation with him put him in charge of 
 a French officer who he knew would protect him. 
 The latter did indeed treat Putnam with kindness, 
 and took the captive with him to Montreal. How 
 traveled that road, mostly a water-path, was in those 
 days! By day and night, winter and summer, 
 French, Canadians, Indians and English captives 
 passed back and forth over the waters of Lake 
 George and Lake Champlain, and the Richelieu 
 River to the St. Lawrence and Montreal. It was 
 a background to a thousand stories as thrilling as 
 that of "Old Put's." 
 
 Among the English prisoners in Montreal at the 
 time Putnam reached there was Colonel Peter 
 Schuyler, a distinguished member of the distin- 
 guished Albany Schuylers, a Dutch family of pa- 
 troons. His rank and wealth had obtained him 
 numerous favors from the French, and he was com- 
 fortably lodged. He heard of Putnam's arrival 
 and immediately obtained leave to visit him in the 
 prisoners' quarters. What he saw shocked him. 
 
 109 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 A forlorn, gaunt captive, with a swollen, gashed, 
 and dirty face, the scantiest allowance of dirty, 
 ragged clothes, his bare legs and feet bleeding from 
 thorns and briers, his beard long and squalid, came 
 out to him — this was a change indeed from the 
 prosperous and comfortable New England officer. 
 
 "Can this be Major Putnam?" exclaimed Schuy- 
 ler. He looked closer and recognized the honest 
 blue eyes of his old acquaintance, who summoned 
 up a grin of welcome, ghastly enough on his swol- 
 len face, but showing that the old, indomitable Put- 
 nam was still there. 
 
 *'None other," replied he hoarsely. "And mighty 
 glad to see you, Colonel — though I'm not just in 
 shape to receive a call — and what's more, have 
 neither meat nor drink to offer you." 
 
 "The villains — to put you in such a plight," ex- 
 claimed Schuyler, careful, however, to speak in a 
 low tone, lest he should endanger Putnam's chances 
 still more with his captors. "Never fear, though, 
 Major — I'll soon get you out of this." He left 
 after a short conversation, and hurried to quarters 
 where he had influence. Before long Putnam was 
 moved to Schuyler's own house and supplied with 
 
 no 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 decent clothing and food. The generous Major 
 also lent him money for his needs. 
 
 That summer a victory for the English — ^the tak- 
 ing of Fort Frontenac, at the site of Kingston on 
 the St. Lawrence, by General Bradstreet and his 
 armed boatmen — brought about an exchange of 
 prisoners in Montreal. Schuyler was included in 
 the exchange — not so Putnam. But Schuyler was 
 determined to effect his release. He knew that if 
 the French realized that Putnam was the partisan 
 leader who had fought them so efficiently, they would 
 not let him go — he therefore decided to try a ruse. 
 He prevailed upon the Governor of Canada to offer 
 that whatever officer Schuyler named should be 
 included in the exchange list. He then remarked, 
 with apparent indifference. 
 
 "There is an old man here, who is a Provincial 
 Major, and wishes to be at home with his wife and 
 children ; he can do no good here or anywhere else ; 
 T believe your Excellency had better keep some of 
 the young men, who have no wife or children to 
 care for, and let the old fellow go." This diplomacy 
 had the desired effect — and the "old man," who was 
 just forty, was at once released. 
 
 Ill 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 On the journey home, Putnam was given an op- 
 portunity for kindness which delighted him — for 
 rough woodsman as he was, blunter in his speech 
 and manners even than the majority of blunt New 
 Englanders, he still possessed that real chivalry 
 which springs from an honest and gentle heart. 
 Knowing these qualities of his, Colonel Schuyler 
 entrusted to his care during the journey a widow, 
 by the name of Mrs. Howe, still beautiful and 
 charming in spite of the many sorrows she had 
 experienced. 
 
 Her first husband had been killed by the Indians 
 — her second also. She and her seven children had 
 been taken captive by them in Hinsdale, New 
 Hampshire, and led through the forests to Canada. 
 There she managed to get her two eldest daughters 
 into a convent in order to prevent their being mar- 
 ried to Indian braves. Her other five children 
 were taken from her and scattered among different 
 tribes. She herself was ransomed for the sum of^^ 
 four hundred livres (about eighty dollars) by an 
 elderly French officer, living at Fort Jean, who took 
 her to live with his family. 
 
 The officer's son, also an officer, fell in love with 
 
 112 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 her. She did not return his affection, but could 
 not get rid of him. Schuyler, hearing of it, came 
 to the rescue, and offered to buy her from the elder 
 officer, that being the only way he could obtain her 
 release. The latter, thinking to turn a dishonest 
 penny, would not part with her for less than one 
 thousand livres. Schuyler persuaded the Governor 
 to interfere and reduce the ransom to four hundred 
 livres, the original amount. He also saw that every 
 one of her five sons were rescued from the Indians 
 and returned to her, and provided that she return 
 to New England under Putnam's escort. 
 
 When the party set out, Mrs. Howe's admirer, the 
 young officer, joined them, and began again his un- 
 welcome lovemaking. Mrs. Howe told Putnam, and 
 Putnam informed the insolent young fellow he had 
 better keep off; he had him to reckon with now 
 when annoying her. Upon this, the bully beat a 
 retreat. 
 
 Major Putnam was exceedingly busy during this 
 trip. He not only had to help the mother — he took 
 charge of her five little boys, carrying them over 
 swamps and brooks, helping them up steep places, 
 even cooking and cutting up the food for the littlest 
 
 113 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 ones. He was fairly experienced in such work, with 
 all his own youngsters at home. They reached New 
 England safely, Mrs. Howe finding shelter with her 
 friends. Some years after, when the war was over, 
 she went back to Canada to get her daughters from 
 the convent. One of them had become so fond of 
 convent life that she hated to leave, but finally both 
 rejoined their mother. 
 
 And what of Putnam's home-coming? Words 
 fail me when I attempt to describe it. You can 
 imagine it for yourself — Hannah's beaming face, 
 and the glad cries of the children as they rushed to 
 meet him. Then, after they had held their breaths 
 and laughed and cried at the story of his trials, what 
 a meal he must have sat down to. Fresh-killed 
 chickens, ham and bacon, delicious vegetables from 
 Hannah's garden, cooked with cream given by his 
 sleek cows — with the favorite New England deli- 
 cacies, pies of pumpkin and pies of apple and quince. 
 Doughnuts, also, and gingerbread — just the meal to 
 give anyone but a New Englander a bilious attack, 
 but we may imagine Putnam was equal to it. Then, 
 as the early fall evening closed in, the logs were 
 lighted in the big fireplace, and neighbors dropped 
 
 114 
 
CAPTIVITY 
 
 in by twos and threes to drink hot mulled cider and 
 exclaim as the hero of the hour told his tales anew. 
 But there was one deep shade on this splendid home- 
 coming — one place that was vacant at table and in 
 the circle around the hearth. On the very day that 
 Putnam had so narrowly escaped being burnt to 
 death by the Indians, his second son, Daniel, a boy 
 of 17, had passed away — history does not say from 
 what cause. Hannah had had to bear this sorrow 
 without her husband to comfort her. Truly, the 
 trials of war are not all with those who go to war. 
 The women who stay behind have their full share. 
 
X 
 
 CANADA CONQUERED 
 
X 
 
 CANADA CONQUERED 
 
 IN following Putnam's trials during the sum- 
 mer of 1758, we have overlooked the fact that 
 the English campaign as a whole had taken a 
 decided turn for the better. Early in the summer 
 the almost impregnable fortress of Louisbourg had 
 at last fallen before the gallant assault of the Eng- 
 lish soldiers and sailors under Sir Jeffrey Amherst, 
 helped by the officer Colonel James Wolfe, after- 
 wards the hero of Quebec. In July of the same 
 summer, Lieutenant-Colonel Bradstreet had taken 
 Fort Frontenac on Lake Ontario ; and in November 
 General Forbes and his army had taken Fort Du- 
 quesne, now Pittsburg, "the Gateway of the West." 
 These successes had followed the accession of 
 Pitt, the great War Minister, to the command of 
 military affairs in England. He put an end to all 
 bungling, appointed the right men to the right 
 places, and animated the whole army with courage 
 
 119 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and confidence. The well-planned campaigns of 
 1759 were undertaken with alacrity by regulars and 
 provincials alike. Their main features were the at- 
 tack on Quebec by Wolfe, now a general, a new 
 attempt to capture Ticonderoga and Crown Point by 
 Amherst, and the advance into Canada by Amherst 
 by way of Ticonderoga, Crown Point and the St. 
 Lawrence. 
 
 Putnam in the spring of 1759 received his ap- 
 pointment as lieutenant-colonel in the Fourth Regi- 
 ment, commanded by Colonel Fitch. Undaunted 
 by his previous experiences, he set out again in 
 May, 1759, on the well-traveled road to Albany. 
 
 Again came the familiar life at the encampment 
 on Lake George. This time there were about eleven 
 thousand men, half regulars and half provincials. 
 They busied themselves for more than a month in 
 drilling, firing at targets, scouting, etc., and in such 
 amusements as bathing, fishing and cutting spruce 
 tops to make spruce beer, which was in much de- 
 mand as a remedy for scurvy. The authorities or- 
 dered that the soldiers should be provided with as 
 much as they liked of this "soft drink" at a half- 
 penny a quart. 
 
 120 
 
CANADA CONQUERED 
 
 The army embarked for Ticonderoga on the 
 twenty-first of July, a little over a year from the 
 last disastrous attempt. Again countless oars 
 flashed in the sunlight, and the drums beat, as 
 bateaux and barges filled with countless men in 
 uniform with glittering weapons advanced along 
 the picturesque lake. But this time the promise of 
 the beginning was more than justified. Ticonder- 
 oga was abandoned by the French almost without 
 a struggle. When the English reached the intrench- 
 ment at the foot of which they had suffered such 
 a terrible defeat the year before, the French made 
 no attempt to defend it, but took refuge inside the 
 fort. They fired from there, but the English found 
 shelter from the balls under the walls of the in- 
 trenchment. 
 
 Amherst now brought up his artillery to invest 
 the fort. Putnam was in command of this work, 
 and must have favorably contrasted Amherst's un- 
 flurried preparations with Abercrombie's stupid 
 haste in the last campaign. Amherst, to paraphrase 
 General Grant's saying, would have sat down be- 
 fore the entrenchments and fought it out with his 
 artillery if it had taken all summer — but there was 
 
 121 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 no need for such action. Bourlamaque, the French 
 commander, received orders from Vaudreuil, the 
 Governor of Canada, to retreat down Lake Cham- 
 plain at the approach of the English. He accord- 
 ingly did so, leaving only four hundred soliders 
 in the fort, who escaped by night on the lake side 
 in boats as the English encamped in front of it. 
 As the last one stole away, Putnam and the other 
 watchers saw a great glare in the night sky, fol- 
 lowed by a terrific explosion, as fragments of the 
 fort were hurled up into the air. The French had 
 left a fire burning in the magazine. But only one 
 bastion blew up, and against the lurid sky the 
 French flag was seen still waving on the ramparts. 
 An English sergeant of light infantry went up and 
 took it off at the risk of his life. So the last sign 
 of the Bourbons passed from the fort in the forest 
 which had terrorized the English for so long, and 
 in its place was set the red cross of St. George. 
 No one dreamed how soon it too would pass, and 
 the Stars and Stripes of a nation still unborn suc- 
 ceed it. 
 
 Amherst set his men to repairing the works and 
 prepared to attack Crown Point, but was soon in- 
 
 122 
 
CANADA CONQUERED 
 
 formed by his scouts that that also was abandoned. 
 There was nothing now to prevent his going to the 
 help of Wolfe by taking his army to Oswego and 
 by boat down the Lake and the St. Lawrence to 
 Montreal. Wolfe, his friend and brother-in-arms, 
 racking his brain with plans to capture the formi- 
 dable fortress of Quebec, sorely needed his aid — ^but 
 Amherst was of a deliberate disposition, and con- 
 cluded he had done enough active campaigning for 
 one year. He set his soldiers to building a new 
 fort at Crown Point. Putnam was busy during 
 the rest of the summer and autumn superintending 
 this work. Meanwhile the good news reached them 
 of the surrender of Fort Niagara, on July 24, 1759, 
 to Sir William Johnson, who had succeeded Gen- 
 eral Prideaux, killed in action. Putnam must have 
 heard with a certain grim satisfaction that the 
 French in the fort had been wild with terror of 
 Johnson's Mohawks, fearing he would take revenge 
 through them for the slaughter of defenseless Eng- 
 lish prisoners at Fort William Henry. He might 
 have thought that turn about was fair play, up to 
 a certain point, in order that the French might real- 
 ize what the English had suffered — but he antici- 
 
 123 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 pated, of course, Johnson's action — the same that he 
 would have performed in his place. Johnson so re- 
 strained his fierce Mohawks that they did not in- 
 flict the least injury upon the prisoners. 
 
 During the fall a still more welcome piece of news 
 reached Putnam and the others at Crown Point — 
 this was the announcement of Wolfe's great victory 
 — how he had led a force during the night of Sep- 
 tember 12 up the steep bank which led to the 
 Heights of Abraham above Quebec, how they had 
 surprised the French, the battle that ensued, and 
 the capture of Quebec. England and the colonies 
 were wild with joy at the news, but a great sorrow 
 dimmed their rejoicings — Wolfe had been killed at 
 the moment of victory, murmuring, as he heard of 
 the French retreat, "Now, God be praised, I can 
 die in peace." Montcalm also received his death- 
 blow in the battle, and was nevermore to return to 
 his beloved home in France. With him died the 
 hope of New France, for he was the one man of 
 military genius in tlie country, and the only one who 
 stood out against the political incompetency and cor- 
 ruption that was choking the life from the unfor- 
 tunate colony. 
 
 124 
 
CANADA CONQUERED 
 
 Of all the French possessions there now remained 
 only the narrow strip on the St. Lawrence between 
 Jacques-Cartier on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and 
 Kingston, on Lake Ontario. Amherst put off tak- 
 ing this until the next year. The army at Crown 
 Point disbanded. Putnam went home, where his 
 family were more than consoled for his lack of 
 thrilling tales to tell them by his safety and the 
 great results of the bloodless campaign. That win- 
 ter another son came to the Putnam household, and 
 was called Daniel, in memory of the Daniel who 
 had died during the preceding winter. 
 
 Next spring (1760) Amherst resolved to send 
 expeditions into Canada by three ways at once. 
 Gen. Murray was to ascend the St. Lawrence from 
 Quebec, Brigadier Haviland to enter Canada by the 
 Lake Champlain route, and Amherst himself was 
 to lead an army down the St. La-wrence to Mon- 
 treal. Putnam was ready as usual to take part in 
 the campaign, and was in charge of a part of the 
 Connecticut troops in Amherst's force. For the 
 fifth successive time he went to Albany in May; 
 from there the forces crossed to Schenectady, then 
 up the Mohawk River to Fort Stanwix on the Great 
 
 125 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Carrying Place, then across Oneida Lake and down 
 the Onondaga River to Oswego. By the tenth of 
 August the whole force was afloat on Lake Ontario. 
 They progressed in three divisions, the first under 
 Colonel Haldimand, the second under General Am- 
 herst, the third under Brigadier-General Thomas 
 Gage. Putnam was in the latter division, and be- 
 came a great friend of Gage's, little knowing that 
 within a few 3'ears he would be fighting against 
 him. 
 
 The fleet crossed the lake safely, and soon found 
 themselves among the beautiful Thousand Islands. 
 By the fifteenth of August they reached a place on 
 the southwest bank of the river, at the head of 
 the rapids, called La Presentation, or Oswegatchie, 
 where Father Piquet, a French priest who had often 
 urged his Iroquois converts on to murder the Eng- 
 lish, had formerly held his mission. Outside Os- 
 wegatchie (now Ogdensburg, New York) hovered 
 two French armed brigs, which threatened Am- 
 herst's bateaux and whaleboats. The flatboats car- 
 rying his artillery had been delayed in the winding 
 channels of the Islands. In this emergency Putnam 
 came to the fore, according to a story printed in 
 
 126 
 
CANADA CONQUERED 
 
 Almon's "Impartial Remembrancer," an English 
 volume printed in 1775: 
 
 '"While he (Amherst) was pondering what should 
 be done, Putnam comes to him and says, 'General, 
 that ship must be taken.' 'Aye,' says Amherst, *I 
 would give the world she was taken,' 'I'll take her,' 
 says Putnam. Amherst smiled and asked how. 
 'Give me some wedges, a beetle (a large wood ham- 
 mer or maul, used for driving wedges), and a few 
 men of my own choice.' Amherst could not con- 
 ceive how an armed vessel was to be taken by four 
 or five men, a beetle, and wedges. However, he 
 granted Putnam's request. When night came, Put- 
 nam, with his materials and men, went in a boat 
 under the vessel's stern and in an instant drove in 
 the wedges behind the rudder in the little cavity be- 
 tween the rudder and ship and left her. In the 
 morning the sails were seen fluttering about; she 
 was adrift . . . and being presently blown ashore 
 was easily taken." 
 
 Humphreys, Putnam's first biographer, says that 
 Putnam planned to do this, but was prevented from 
 carrying out his plan, as one of the ships immedi- 
 ately surrendered, and the other was run aground by 
 
 127 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 the French. However this may be, we may give 
 the New Englander credit for true Yankee ingenuity 
 and resourcefulness in his scheme. 
 
 Just below Oswegatchie was a French fort built 
 on an island, and called Fort Levis. It was de- 
 fended by a breastwork of heavy logs, which pro- 
 jected over the water. Putnam proposed a novel 
 plan for its siege. This was to send down a num- 
 ber of boats surrounded by fascines, or bundles of 
 sticks which should conceal the men completely, 
 each boat to be provided with a long plank, fitted 
 to the bow so that it could be raised or lowered at 
 will. When the boats approached the breastwork, 
 they were to lower the planks, in order to form a 
 gangplank to the top of the works, so that the men 
 could easily pass over. Whether this was actually 
 done or not remains in some doubt. At any rate, 
 the fort surrendered! 
 
 After the surrender, the French were in terror 
 of Johnson's Indians, who most heartily wished to 
 kill the prisoners. Being restrained in this natural 
 impulse, three quarters of their number went home 
 in a rage. 
 
 Just below the island on which Fort Levis stood, 
 128 
 
CANADA CONQUERED 
 
 begin the rapids of the St. Lawrence. The fleet 
 began the dangerous descent, passed the first rapids, 
 the Galops, the Rapide Plat, the Long Saut, and 
 the Coteau du Lac in safety ; but when they reached 
 the second stretch of rapids, which tossed their 
 white crests and roared as if they longed to engulf 
 the whole of Abercrombie's army, they paid a heavy 
 reckoning. Forty-six boats were totally wrecked, 
 eighteen damaged, and eighty-four men lost their 
 lives. At last they reached the calm waters of Lake 
 St. Louis, a widening of the river above Montreal, 
 landed at La Chine, nine miles above the city, and 
 presently marched on and encamped before the 
 walls of the city itself. 
 
 On the same day, General Murray, who had come 
 up from Quebec, arrived at Isle St. Therese, just 
 below Montreal, and Brigadier-General Haviland 
 arrived from the Lake Champlain region. Mon- 
 treal, whose defenses were useful only against In- 
 dians, could not hold her own against the triple 
 army of the English. On September 8, 1760, the 
 city of convents and churches, priests and nuns, 
 French noblesse and fur-traders — this city which 
 was founded through a dream, settled by saints, 
 
 129 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and inhabited by sinners, which had a history of 
 romance and terror second to no city on the conti- 
 nent — became the possession of the alien race. At 
 the same time all the other French troops in Canada 
 laid down their arms. When the capitulation was 
 signed, "half the continent changed hands at the 
 scratch of a pen." Canada and all its dependencies 
 passed to the British crown. 
 
 What a day that was for the New England pro- 
 vincials who had fought so bravely ! The long cam- 
 paigning years were ended, and from Maine to Ni- 
 agara the border settlers were safe forever from 
 the midnight alarms of the murderous enemy. Of 
 the much greater results the English conquest of 
 Canada was to have for them they were still hap- 
 pily ignorant. They hardly realized to what an 
 extent the presence of the French on the continent 
 had rendered them dependent on the mother-coun- 
 try, or how the withdrawal of the enemy would 
 cause them to grow in independence of spirit. But 
 they had learned their lessons of courage and co- 
 operation on the great forest battlefields of this war, 
 and they were to put them in practice again in a 
 way that they little dreamed. 
 
 130 
 
XI 
 
 THE SIEGE OF HAVANA 
 
XI 
 
 THE SIEGE OF HAVANA 
 
 OUTSIDE Montreal was an Indian mission 
 called Caughnawaga, from the name of the 
 tribe who lived there. Putnam, visiting 
 this mission one day at the time of Montreal's 
 surrender, was delighted to find an old friend, or 
 so he regarded him — none other than the big Caugh- 
 nawaga chief who had taken him captive near 
 Ticonderoga. The chief lived in a well-built stone 
 house, and was as glad to see Putnam as Putnam 
 was to see him. They shook hands, smoked a pipe 
 of peace together, and Putnam promised to protect 
 the Indian now that he had come under the power 
 of the English. Remembering the hospitality the 
 chief had shown Putnam in stripping him of most 
 of his clothes, tying him to a tree in the thick of 
 the battle, and binding him down in a St. Andrew's 
 cross all night, this certainly showed a magnani- 
 mous spirit on the part of our hero. But Putnam 
 
 133 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 was a true soldier, and understood the conditions 
 of warfare too well to harbor resentment at a little 
 rough treatment. "The Caughnawagas are the 
 bravest of Indians," he was accustomed to declare, 
 and wished to make them our allies at the time of 
 the Revolution. 
 
 Within a week after the capitulation, Putnam, 
 with the rest of the Connecticut men, was on his 
 way back to Lake Champlain, where they worked 
 on Fort William Augustus till the last of October, 
 when he returned to his home. 
 
 He must have been almost ready to settle down, 
 but the next year, 1761, Amherst called the forces 
 out again in a campaign for the purpose of reducing 
 "the enemy to the necessity of accepting a peace, 
 on terms of Glory and advantage to his Majesty's 
 Crown, and beneficial, in particular, to his subjects 
 in America." Putnam was lieutenant-colonel of 
 the Second Connecticut Regiment. This year there 
 was no fighting and he was employed in superin- 
 tending the rebuilding and strengthening of the 
 forts at Ticonderoga and Crown Point. 
 
 But though Canada was conquered, England was 
 not yet at peace. An arrangement called the "Fam- 
 
 134 
 
THE SIEGE OF HAVANA * 
 
 ily Compact" had been made between the Bourbon 
 rulers of France and Spain (Charles III of Spain 
 and Louis XV of France), which threatened the 
 interests of England. She accordingly declared war 
 on Spain, on the 4th of January, 1762. The cap- 
 ture of the West Indian Islands belonging to Spain 
 was the first thing on her program. During Febru- 
 ary of that year Martinique was captured by the 
 British; and in the early spring the Earl of Albe- 
 marle and Admiral Sir John Pococke sailed to cap- 
 ture Havana. 
 
 Meanwhile the British government had called 
 upon the colonies to furnish troops, and Connecti- 
 cut had voted to furnish twenty-three hundred men. 
 Lyman, always the leader of the Connecticut forces 
 in this period, was again in command, and second 
 to him was Putnam, now lieutenant-colonel of the 
 First Regiment. 
 
 Putnam, though he must have had some gray 
 hairs by now, was something of a boy still in his 
 zest for adventure. To exchange the snows and bit- 
 ing blasts of Canada, and the hard woodland life of 
 Ticonderoga, for the soft airs, the palms and co- 
 conut trees, and the sandy beaches of Cuba appealed 
 
 135 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 to him. But, aside from that, he was ready to go, 
 as ahvays, where his country needed him. It must 
 have been a rehef, though, that instead of assem- 
 bling at the little frontier village of Albany, as they 
 had in so many wearisome years gone by, the forces 
 met at New York, then as now a city of great at- 
 tractions, though there were no skyscrapers to gaze 
 at, no great crowds or bustle. Perhaps at the time 
 Putnam paid it this visit there was a play going 
 on in the theater, built in 1753, when "play-acting" 
 in Boston was still severely punished by the Puri- 
 tan authorities. He may have seen "The Beaux' 
 Stratagem," perhaps, or "The Beggar's Opera," or 
 "Richard the Third." And if he did, it was prob- 
 ably the first play he ever saw in all his life. But 
 there was not much time for him to divert himself 
 in the city, for he was now acting Colonel of the 
 Connecticut regiment. General Lyman being in com- 
 mand of the brigade, and there were many things 
 to be attended to before the sailing of the army. 
 The transports finally got off in June. 
 
 The first part of their voyage was uneventful; 
 but as the fleet approached the coast of Cuba, it en- 
 countered a terrific storm, and the transport which 
 
 136 
 
THE SIEGE OF HAVANA 
 
 carried Putnam and five hundred of his men was 
 driven upon the rocks and wrecked. 
 
 Putnam kept his head in the midst of the fury of 
 the tempest, the pounding of the ship on the rocks 
 and the noise of the waves, and shouted directions 
 to his soldiers. He kept strict order, and set those 
 who understood tools to making rafts out of spars, 
 planks, etc. They launched one of these, and by 
 the aid of long cables of rope they had on board, 
 stretched a line from the ship to the shore, which 
 was of great help in getting the other rafts to land. 
 All the men reached the shore safely. Putnam had 
 them make a camp and fortify it in order that they 
 might not be taken by surprise if inhabitants of 
 this or neighboring islands attacked them. No such 
 attack occurred, and after their being in camp two 
 or three days the storm subsided, and the rest of 
 the fleet, which had ridden out the storm with great 
 difficulty, sent a convoy to shore to take them away. 
 The journey was resumed, and they were shortly 
 in sight of the deep, narrow entrance of Havana 
 Harbor, and the gray outlines of Morro Castle on 
 the left. 
 
 The English soldiers, eleven thousand in number, 
 137 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 under the Earl of Albemarle, had been toiling here 
 for nearly two months, digging trenches in the dry 
 earth, at the foot of the castle, under the pitiless 
 midsummer sun of the Tropics. The earth was so 
 scarce they hardly had enough to keep the fascines 
 in place, and the siege works were only a mass of 
 dry fagots. When the grand battery opened upon 
 the Spanish defenses, the battery itself took fire, 
 burned up and had to be built all over again. The 
 soldiers fell sick ; fresh water was scarce, and many 
 died from thirst, others from fevers. It was a dis- 
 mal scene that the New England soldiers entered 
 upon, but their fresh strength and contagious good 
 spirits seemed to reanimate the whole army. 
 
 With the help of the provincial reenforcements. 
 Lord Albemarle determined to attempt to carry 
 Morro Castle, the key to Havana, as it was called, 
 by storm. The work of sapping, that is, undermin- 
 ing by tunnels, had resulted in a breach of the right 
 bastion of the fort, on the thirtieth of July. On the 
 afternoon of that day, the English storming-party 
 mounted the breach, overtook the defenders by sur- 
 prise, and dispersed them. The Commandant of 
 the fort, Don Luis de Velasco, a very brave Span- 
 
 138 
 
THE SIEGE OF HAVANA 
 
 iard, refused to fly, and was mortally wounded in 
 the fight. So honorable was his conduct that the 
 Spanish authorities ordered that ever after there 
 should be a ship in the Spanish navy named Velasco. 
 In the work of storming the fortress, the Spaniards 
 lost about five hundred men, while the English lost 
 only two officers and thirty men. "There is," says 
 William Farrand Livingston, one of Putnam's biog- 
 raphers, "no detailed record of Putnam's part in the 
 victorious action, but he was a sharer in the honors 
 bestowed upon the members of the storming party 
 for their gallant service," 
 
 The next object of Lord Albemarle was the fall 
 of Havana. Works were begun upon both sides of 
 the city, and carried on for ten days. On the morn- 
 ing of August II, the English batteries opened fire; 
 the bombardment continued till two in the after- 
 noon, when the Spanish offered to surrender. Two 
 days later the negotiations ended and Havana and 
 its immediate territory was in the hands of the 
 English. It was the second great city Putnam had 
 seen pass to the English arms within a year, and 
 he joined in the triumph as the olive-skinned 
 Spaniards, nearly a thousand regular troops, 
 
 139 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 marched out of the city with all the honors of 
 war. When he entered, with the English, he gazed 
 about him with delight at the picturesque, balco- 
 nied houses which the shells had spared, covered 
 with plaster, white or tinted in vivid, yet soft, blues 
 and greens and rose and lavenders and yellows, 
 at the courtyards guarded by handsome wrought- 
 iron gates, at the graceful palm trees and pleasant 
 parks, or plazas, where the military band was wont 
 to play every afternoon, and those of the Spanish 
 aristocracy who had not left the city drove or 
 strolled. There must have been much for the New 
 Englanders to see in the quaint Spanish town; but 
 the sight-seeing was not done under as pleasant 
 conditions as it would be now, for the Northerners 
 had not learned how to guard their health in the 
 Tropics, and the New England troops, as well as 
 the English, caught more fevers, till the camps were 
 full of sick and dying men. Putnam had such 
 a strong constitution that nothing seemed to af- 
 fect him. One day he and Lieutenant Parks went 
 out in the country near Havana to buy provisions 
 for the troops, exposing themselves in the process 
 to the noonday sun, which is very dangerous in 
 
 140 
 
THE SIEGE OF HAVANA 
 
 the Tropics. By the time they returned, the Lieu- 
 tenant was ill, and a few days later he died, but 
 Putnam felt no bad effects. 
 
 One day, while Putnam was strolling along the 
 streets of Havana, he came upon a Spaniard beat- 
 ing a negro slave unmercifully with his bamboo 
 cane. You remember Putnam's first adventure with 
 a negro slave — his kind heart had not changed a 
 particle since then. Although he was unarmed and 
 alone, he walked up to the Spaniard and wrested 
 the cane from his hands. A mob of Cubans gath- 
 ered, and threatened to give Putnam a beating. He 
 ducked through them and ran for his life to the 
 wharf, where an English ship lay. When he 
 reached there he found that the negro had fol- 
 lowed and absolutely refused to leave him. Put- 
 nam took him home with him when he left, and 
 found "Dick," as he was called, the most faithful 
 of servants. When Putnam died, he left Dick 
 the bamboo cane, and the old negro hobbled around 
 on it proudly all the rest of his life. 
 
 The days dragged on. Soon it was fall, and 
 the men, reduced in numbers and depressed in 
 spirits by constant deaths, longed for home. At 
 
 141 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 last, in October, the welcome order came to em- 
 bark. The Connecticut soldiers could hardly wait 
 to get on the ships, eager as they were to "reach 
 their native Shores and with wraptured hearts over- 
 come with Joy, to Salute, embrace, and fall into 
 the Arms of their long wished for, wishing, lovely, 
 loving friends," as a Chaplain, whose pen fairly stut- 
 tered with excitement, wrote in his diary. Their 
 longing had been increased by a ship that came 
 to Havana in October, and brought them news of 
 a prosperous season and good harvests in New Eng- 
 land. I imagine they would have exchanged all 
 the tropical delicacies in the world for one ear 
 of corn from a New England garden when they 
 heard that. At last the transports sailed out of 
 Havana harbor — and Putnam had one more nar- 
 row escape, as his ship struck a rock, but it was 
 finally carried off by the wind. It was a rough 
 passage, and many were seasick, and many of the 
 fever sufferers died. But they reached New York 
 finally, and there scattered for home. 
 
 The capture of Havana had produced a sensa- 
 tion in the American colonies, and Putnam, with 
 others who had taken part in it, was received with 
 
 142 
 
THE SIEGE OF HAVANA 
 
 great honors upon his return. What was their 
 surprise to learn, a few months after, that this great 
 fortress and commanding point in the West In- 
 dies they had helped gain was to be given back 
 to Spain in return for the comparatively unim- 
 portant region of Florida. In July, 1763, Havana 
 was returned to Spain and the English soldiers 
 walked out of the city. That surrender had more 
 important consequences than were seen at the time. 
 If the Americans had not been able to use Havana 
 as a port during the Revolution, the struggle with 
 England would have been considerably harder than 
 it was, and might have ended very differently. 
 
XII 
 PONTIAC'S REBELLION 
 
XII 
 
 PONTIACS REBELLION 
 
 IF this were a "made-up" story of adventure, 
 I should really be ashamed to have the hero 
 go through so many excitements in such dif- 
 ferent parts of the country in such a short period 
 of time; I should feel as if it were taxing the im- 
 agination of the reader too much. But as this 
 story of Putnam's life is absolutely true, I shall 
 have to tell just what happened, and leave the 
 reader to judge whether life in the good old days 
 before automobiles and flying-machines was quite 
 as peaceful as we usually imagine. 
 
 Putnam had hardly returned from his Cuban 
 trip before he was sent in an entirely diflferent di- 
 rection to help quell a great Indian uprising — the 
 greatest that had ever taken place in North Amer- 
 ica since the white man came there. 
 
 "This Assembly doth appoint Israel Putnam, 
 Esq., to be Major of the forces now ordered to 
 
 147 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 be raised in this colony for his Majesty's service 
 against the Indian nations who have been guilty 
 of perfidious and cruel massacres of the English." 
 So read Putnam's commission from the Connecti- 
 cut Assembly in the spring of 1764. The Indians 
 of the Great Lakes and Ohio Valley had been 
 disgusted at the outcome of the French and Indian 
 War. They hated and distrusted the English — and 
 no wonder; for, while the French officers feasted 
 and flattered them, and gave them many presents, 
 and the French traders lived in their village witK 
 them on almost equal terms, and took Indian women 
 for wives, the English pursued an entirely differ- 
 ent policy. They were rude and contemptuous in 
 their manners, refused to give them presents, made 
 fun of their wampum belts and other sacred em- 
 blems, would not have the savages about their 
 camps, and cheated them right and left in trade. 
 Besides all this, the Indians realized that, while 
 the French came to their country mainly to get 
 furs, the English meant to settle, and eventually 
 drive them out of their lands. 
 
 Greatest among all Indians at that time — and, in- 
 deed, one of the greatest of Indians at any time 
 
 148 
 
PONTIAC'S REBELLION 
 
 — was an Ottawa chief called Pontiac, who lived 
 in the western Great Lake region. He conceived 
 the plan of uniting all the Indian tribes between 
 the Allegheny Mountains and the Mississippi 
 River in a systematic effort to drive out the Eng- 
 lish from that region. In the autumn of 1762 he 
 sent his messengers far and wide, with many wam- 
 pum belts, and tomahawks stained red in token of 
 war, pledging all the tribes to action in the fol- 
 lowing spring. His plan was for a great simul- 
 taneous attack on the English forts along the Great 
 Lakes. The Indians in the neighborhood of these 
 forts were to gain admission to them under vari- 
 ous pretexts — and once in they were to massacre 
 all the inhabitants. 
 
 These plans were carried out only too well. 
 Mackinac, Presqu'isle (Erie), Sandusky and all 
 the other isolated posts but one on the Great Lakes 
 fell before the Indians' attacks in May, 1763. De- 
 troit alone held out. Major Gladwyn, the com- 
 mander (with whom Putnam had fought at Crown 
 Point), received word through an Indian girl of 
 the intended attack in time to prepare for it. He 
 closed the gates of the fortified town at Detroit, 
 
 149 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and for months he and his soldiers withstood a 
 siege carried on by the Indians under the direction 
 of Pontiac himself. It was the only example of 
 such a siege in all Indian history. 
 
 When the siege first began, in May, 1763, Am- 
 herst had been the commander-in-chief in America. 
 He had a very poor opinion of Indians, so much 
 so that he thought their attacks hardly worth both- 
 ering about! So he left those at Detroit to de- 
 fend themselves as best they might. In 1764 Gen- 
 eral Thomas Gage (whose acquaintance Putnam 
 had made during the Montreal campaign) suc- 
 ceeded Amherst; and he resolved to send two ex- 
 peditions into the Indian country; one, under 
 Colonel Bouquet, to advance west from Port Pitt 
 (Pittsburg) to subdue the Delawares and Shawa- 
 noes of that region, and the other, under Brad- 
 street, down the Great Lakes to relieve Detroit. 
 The latter was the expedition which Putnam 
 joined. 
 
 Putnam went to Albany, where Bradstreet's army 
 was collecting. The forces went up the Mohawk 
 River, crossed Oneida Lake, descended the Onon- 
 daga, and, reaching Oswego, embarked on Lake On- 
 
 150 
 
PONTIAC'S REBELLION 
 
 tario. After a few days' journey on the Lake they 
 reached Niagara. Here were the bark wigwams of 
 a great number of friendly Indians, who had been 
 persuaded to come by the influence of Sir William 
 Johnson. Among them Putnam's Caughnawaga 
 chief turned up again. After making a treaty of 
 friendship with the English, many of the Indians 
 wandered away to their western hunting grounds; 
 but the Caughnawaga, at the head of a hundred of 
 his tribe, accompanied the army westward, and won 
 special praise for good behavior. 
 
 The English army after a while reached a point 
 on the Lake between the present cities of Buffalo 
 and Erie, where they found more Indians waiting 
 to speak with them. These were Delawares and 
 Shawanoes from the Ohio Valley. They had come 
 to make a treaty, they said ; but they only had one 
 wampum belt. 
 
 "Don't trust them. General," Putnam warned 
 Bradstreet. "Indians who are sent by their tribes 
 to make treaties always have much wampum, a 
 belt for every clause of the treaty. These fellows 
 are deceiving us. Like as not, they want to de- 
 tain us while their friends massacre more English 
 
 151 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 settlers west and south of us." Bradstreet thought 
 he knew more about Indians than anyone else, and 
 paid no attention to Putnam's advice, which the 
 other officers who were familiar with Indians sec- 
 onded. He found out his mistake later on, when 
 the treaty which he made with them was not kept, 
 and the unfortunate officers he dispatched to their 
 villages were illtreated and nearly killed. The same 
 thing happened at Sandusky, where Bradstreet had 
 been ordered to punish the Indians for their horri- 
 ble massacre of the Sandusky garrison, but made 
 a treaty instead. All this took much time, and it 
 was the twenty-sixth of August before the Amer- 
 ican forces came in sight of the stockaded town of 
 Detroit. 
 
 Along the banks of the river were Indian vil- 
 lages, but not an Englishman was in sight. They 
 were huddled inside the stockade, as they had been 
 almost continuously for fifteen long and dreary 
 months. During most of that time a soldier could 
 not lift his cap above the ramparts without having 
 it shot away by some savage skulking in the grass 
 outside. They had suffered from scarcity of food 
 and of clothing — they had heard of nothing but 
 
 152 
 
PONTIAC'S REBELLION 
 
 massacres of the other garrisons along the Lakes, 
 Worse still, they were in continual terror for fear 
 the Indians would set the town on fire with their 
 burning arrows, or cut and bum their way through 
 the wooden palisades. Luckily, such an assault was 
 against all the Indian ideas of warfare, and did 
 not occur. 
 
 When those in the fort saw the fleet approach- 
 ing, their excitement was intense. For the first 
 time the gaunt and ragged soldiers dared to crowd 
 upon the ramparts. They cheered, they waved, and 
 the cannon in the blockhouse roared a welcome. 
 Hostile Indians scuttled away, and friendly ones, 
 who had sent ambassadors to Niagara, flocked to 
 the shores in welcome. 
 
 Bradstreet's army landed and poured into the 
 fort. It was an invasion at last, but a friendly one. 
 Comrades who had served together in the last war 
 greeted each other. Putnam lost no time in shaking 
 hands with the gallant commander, Major Glad- 
 wyn, with whom he had served at Ticonderoga 
 and Crown Point. He heard with regret that 
 Dalzell, who was with Putnam's party when he 
 was captured by the Indians, had led a sortie 
 
 153 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 from the fort and been killed by the Indians 
 while trying to lift a wounded soldier to a place 
 of safety. 
 
 But now all sorrows were forgotten in relief 
 at the end of the long siege. Fresh men from 
 Bradstreet's forces took the place of the troops who 
 had watched so long. Pontiac, the main spirit of 
 the attacking Indians, was away in the Maumee 
 region, and his followers, convinced now that the 
 English were too strong for them, begged for 
 peace. They promised to call themselves the "chil- 
 dren" of the King of England. They meant It 
 merely as a graceful compliment, but Bradstreet 
 thought they had promised to be subjects, and 
 would obey the English King henceforth and never 
 fight against him. He did not understand the 
 Indian nature, as was shown most plainly by his 
 hacking to pieces with his sword a belt of wampum 
 the Indians offered to clinch the treaty. He could 
 hardly have insulted them worse if he had killed 
 one of their number. However, the Indians passed 
 over the insult in silence. 
 
 Presently the army took up its way homeward. 
 They stopped at Sandusky nearly a month, during 
 
 154 
 
PONTIAC'S REBELLION 
 
 which time Putnam, at the head of the provincials, 
 superintended the rebuilding of the fort. He was 
 much impressed by the fertile, level country, where, 
 as he wrote to a friend at home, "there are ten 
 or twenty thousand acres of land in a place that 
 have not a bush or twig on them, but all covered 
 with grass so big and high that it is very difificult 
 to travel — and all as good plow-land as ever you 
 saw ; any of it fit for hemp ; but there are too many 
 hemp birds among it, which will make it very un- 
 healthy to live among. Detroit is a very beautiful 
 place, and the country around it." 
 
 He was less impressed with the conduct of the 
 Indians, supposedly now friends and allies of the 
 English. "The Six Nations are all angry," he 
 writes, "and this day they are all packing up to 
 go off ; and what will be the event I ^on't know nor 
 care, for I have no faith in an Indian peace patched 
 up by presents." 
 
 However, the Indians offered no serious trouble. 
 The chief difficulty the army encountered on the 
 way home was the weather. Soon after leaving 
 Sandusky, Bradstreet insisted upon the fleet's en- 
 camping on an open beach, exposed to the wind, 
 
 155 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 though there was a river near which would have 
 held them in safety. During the night a storm 
 arose, which dashed half their boats to pieces, and 
 caused the destruction of much food and other sup- 
 plies. When the storm subsided and they were 
 ready to go on, there were not enough boats left 
 to hold them. Some had to travel by land; while 
 those on the vessels, of whom Putnam was one, 
 were crowded so that they suffered greatly. There 
 was not enough food, and they were almost starved 
 by the time they reached Fort Niagara, where fresh 
 oxen were killed for them. When they left Niagara 
 and set sail on Lake Ontario, they met with a "per- 
 fect Tempest with a snow drift, the wind being 
 chiefly N.W. and extremely cold." 
 
 Putnam, with his usual hardihood, was one of 
 those the least affected by the trip, and upon reach- 
 ing Oswego, where many stayed to recover, 
 marched on to the Hudson. There the regulars 
 went into winter quarters and the provincials dis- 
 banded. Putnam, needless to say, went home. 
 
 The war-chief, Pontiac, though he continued to 
 make trouble for a year or more afterward, finally 
 bowed to the inevitable and made his peace with 
 
 IS6 
 
PONTIAC'S REBELLION 
 
 the English. Putnam hung his flintlock and his 
 carved powder-horn up to take a well-deserved rest. 
 It was almost ten years before they were needed 
 again. 
 
XIII 
 A HERO AT HOME 
 
XIII 
 
 A HERO AT HOME 
 
 ONE of the surest signs of being a hero is 
 receiving a nickname from the people. 
 When Israel Putnam came home from the 
 French and Indian Wars he was no longer Israel 
 Putnam — he was "Old Put" on the lips of all New 
 England. There was probably no man in his part 
 of the world better known or more admired than 
 he. The stories returned soldiers told of "Old 
 Put's" dashing deeds and narrow escapes were fa- 
 vorite ones at the home fireside; and Putnam's 
 democratic principles and manners and his kind 
 heart won him an affection which mere cour- 
 age might not have gained. I dare say the com- 
 mon people liked him all the better because he 
 had little book-learning and culture; he was one 
 of themselves, a man who had risen in the world 
 by his own spirit and courage and hard work ; and 
 so they took him to their hearts and made much 
 of him. 
 
 i6i 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 "Old Put" was not too much of a hero to settle 
 down to farming and a quiet life again. He took up 
 the plow with as much zest as if he had never seen 
 a gun, and made many improvements on his farm. 
 He enjoyed being at home and with his family, but, 
 alas, two great sorrows were in store for him. The 
 first was the death of his eldest daughter, Eliza- 
 beth, aged seventeen, in January, 1765; the second, 
 but a few months later, the death of his dear wife, 
 Hannah, his brave and steadfast helpmate during 
 so many years. The youngest baby of all, named 
 Peter Schuyler, after his father's benefactor at 
 Montreal, was only a few months old. 
 
 Soon after his wife's death, Putnam showed 
 his increased attention to serious things by becom- 
 ing a full member of the Congregational Church in 
 his neighborhood. 
 
 These were the years when the Colonies were 
 beginning to seethe with excitement over the pass- 
 ing of the detested Stamp Act. You may be sure 
 that "Old Put," in spite of having been so long 
 in his Majesty's service, and having so many friends 
 among the English officers, was among the first to 
 resent British injustice to the rights of a liberty- 
 
 162 
 
A HERO AT HOME 
 
 loving people. He had joined the patriotic society, 
 "The Sons of Liberty" before the passing of the 
 Stamp Act. The day he heard the Act was ac- 
 tually passed, he got his horse, saddled it, and set 
 out to ride from one town to another over the 
 eastern part of Connecticut to find out how many 
 men could be counted upon to offer armed resist- 
 ance to the Act. 
 
 The British officers in New York heard of his 
 activities and were much incensed. Ten thousand 
 men, they heard, in Connecticut alone were ready 
 to resist the Stamp Act under the command of 
 Colonel Putnam. 
 
 Putnam sent messages to the Sons of Liberty in 
 Massachusetts, New York and other colonies that 
 he "would assist them with the Militia to the ut- 
 most lives and fortunes to prevent the Stamp Act 
 being enforced." 
 
 Unfortunately, an accident prevented his being 
 present when the Connecticut men met Jared In- 
 gersoll, the appointed Stamp Officer, near Hartford, 
 Connecticut, on his way to fulfill the duties of his. 
 office, and made him mount a table, deliver a speech 
 resigning his office, and shout three times, "Liberty 
 
 163 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and Property!" Putnam would have laughed in 
 spite of himself when the Stamp Officer remarked 
 ruefully, as he rode along on his white horse be- 
 fore that great crowd of incensed patriots, "This 
 reminds me of that passage in the Book of Reve- 
 lation which describes, 'Death on a pale horse and 
 hell following him.' " 
 
 The feeling against the starrtps was so strong in 
 Connecticut that the agents did not dare send the 
 stamps there. They had heard of the conversa- 
 tion Putnam had had with Governor Fitch a little 
 later. Putnam and two other men had been dele- 
 gated to call on the Governor and gently but firmly 
 acquaint him with their views. The Governor 
 asked, "What shall I do if the stamped paper should 
 be sent to me by the King's authority?" 
 
 "Lock it up," replied Putnam boldly, "till we [he 
 meant the Sons of Liberty] shall visit you again." 
 
 "And what will you do then?" asked the Gov- 
 ernor. 
 
 "We shall expect you to give us the key of the 
 room in which it is deposited; and, if you think fit, 
 in order to screen yourself from blame, you may 
 forewarn us upon our peril not to enter the room." 
 
 164 
 
A HERO AT HOME 
 
 **And what will you do afterwards?" 
 
 "Send it safely back again." 
 
 "But what if I should refuse admission?" 
 
 "In such case your house will be leveled with the 
 dust in five minutes!" 
 
 He meant it, and the Governor knew he did; so 
 no stamps were sent to Connecticut. 
 
 The next year, 1766, Putnam was one of the two 
 chosen by the Windham County Committee to cor- 
 respond with members of the organization in the 
 other colonies, in order to keep up opposition to 
 the Stamp Act. He was elected one of their two 
 representatives to the Colonial Legislature in that 
 year, and was in Hartford and shared in the great 
 jubilations that ensued when the news came that 
 the Stamp Act had been repealed by the King and 
 Parliament. 
 
 After the legislature had adjourned, which was 
 in the early summer, Putnam, who had gone back 
 to his farm, met with a serious accident; he frac- 
 tured his right thigh, which caused him to limp all 
 the rest of his life. In spite of this, he attended 
 the fall and winter sessions of the Legislature at 
 New- Haven and Hartford. 
 
 165 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 In the meantime the widower was beginning 
 to "take notice," and the cause of this "noticing" 
 was an attractive widow, Mrs. Deborah Lothrop 
 Gardiner. In those days second and even third 
 marriages were very common, for, as we have seen, 
 it was not considered good for either man or woman 
 to live alone. Putnam married Mrs. Gardiner on 
 June 3, 1767. She had one grown-up son who was 
 a clergyman, and also a young son and daughter, 
 Hannah and Septimus Gardiner, nine and seven 
 respectively. Putnam's son Israel was now twen- 
 ty-seven, married and carrying on his father's 
 farm, his eldest daughter Hannah was married 
 and had a home of her own. The next three 
 Putnam children, Mehitable, Mary and Eunice, di- 
 vided their time between their brother Israel's and 
 their father's house, after his second marriage, 
 while the two youngest, Daniel and little Peter, 
 Uved with Israel and their stepmother and the 
 new little stepbrother and sister. 
 
 Mrs. Putnam was a good and charming woman, 
 with more social graces, perhaps, than her rough 
 and ready soldier husband. She brought many in- 
 fluential new connections, of those who were con- 
 
 166 
 
A HERO AT HOME 
 
 sidered the Connecticut aristocracy, into the fam- 
 ily circle, and these, with Putnam's already large 
 host of friends, kept the newly-wed pair busy en- 
 tertaining. 
 
 Everybody came — old soldiers, "relatives, friends, 
 traveling ministers, distinguished strangers, and 
 gushing patriots." Even in those days of low cost 
 of living, so many visitors could not help but be 
 an expensive luxury to the host. Putnam did not 
 wish to turn them away — but he did not wish to 
 be ruined, either. Suddenly he had a brilliant idea. 
 Why not turn his house into an inn? No sooner 
 thought of than done. He suddenly removed his 
 residence to a large mansion on Brooklyn Green 
 and opened it to the public. 
 
 In those days all inns had gay, hand-painted 
 wooden sign-boards hung in front of them to at- 
 tract the attention of travelers. Before Putnam's 
 hung a picture of General Wolfe, the hero of Louis- 
 bourg and Quebec, in full uniform, In a fiery at- 
 titude, as if charging at the foe. At the outbreak 
 of the Revolution the sign had to come down. Eng- 
 lish military heroes were not popular then. Per- 
 haps that is the period when the sign was sprinkled 
 
 167 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 with shot holes, which you may see in it today in 
 the rooms of the Connecticut Historical Society at 
 Hartford. 
 
 Putnam was just the right person for an inn- 
 keeper of that period. "The landlord of colonial 
 days," says Alice Morse Earle, in her interesting 
 book, "Stage Coach and Tavern Days," "was cer- 
 tainly the best known, often the most popular, and 
 ever the most picturesque and cheerful figure." He 
 had to be a man of high character, or he could 
 not get a license from the stern New England au- 
 thorities. He was often, like Putnam, a retired 
 provincial officer. 
 
 The genial Colonel Putnam was in his element, 
 then, in his new profession. He knew how to of- 
 fer comfortable entertainment to "man and beast" ; 
 and when the guests were gathered about his roar- 
 ing big fire, he entertained them with shrewd com- 
 ment on current affairs, or with stirring tales of 
 the late war-time. His new occupation gave Put- 
 nam also a chance to keep in closest touch with 
 what was going on in the world, for in those days, 
 when newspapers were scarce and news traveled 
 from mouth to mouth, the latest was always to be 
 
 i68 
 
A HERO AT HOME 
 
 had at the inn, where strangers came and towns- 
 people met to conduct their local business. Put- 
 nam by this means knew all the varying degrees 
 of sentiment in the colony in these troubled times; 
 and in his own outspoken and wholehearted way 
 did a great deal to influence public opinion toward 
 the patriot side. 
 
 To count up the honors which "Old Put" re- 
 ceived during this comparatively restful period of 
 his career: he was Selectman, an office given only 
 to persons of "wisdom and uprightness," Modera- 
 tor of the Town Meeting, served on committees to 
 rebuild "Danielson's Bridge," lay out new roads, 
 rearrange school districts, engage schoolmasters, 
 collect taxes, etc. ; he was put in charge of the build- 
 ing of the new meeting-house; he was made bell- 
 ringer of the meeting-house, a very important of- 
 fice, only given to persons of the utmost trust- 
 worthiness ; and, added to all these, was still an- 
 other office carrying something of distinction which 
 perhaps we cannot quite appreciate nowadays — he 
 was made "receiver of crow's heads" — or the person 
 who counted and paid a bounty of sixpence on each 
 crow's head (or two pence on each young crow's 
 
 169 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 head) to those who killed these mischievous ene- 
 mies of the farmers! 
 
 At the end of five or six years of this peaceful, 
 but busy life, the Colonel set out for a new corner 
 of the globe. Business called him this time; he 
 was to claim a grant of land which he was told 
 had been extended to him in the far South. 
 
XIV 
 
 "THE COMPANY OF MILITARY 
 ADVENTURERS" 
 
XIV 
 
 "THE COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS" 
 
 THE Company of Military Adventurers" — 
 hasn't that a romantic and swash-buckling 
 sound? So thought Daniel Putnam, Is- 
 rael's thirteen-year-old son. He could hardly be- 
 lieve in his good fortune when his father told him, 
 one winter morning, that he, Daniel, was actually 
 to accompany him on a trip South as unofficial 
 member of the "Exploring Committee" of the said 
 company. 
 
 "Oh, Jiminy!" cried Daniel. "Maybe I'll have a 
 chance to shoot a real alligator!" 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder," replied his father ; "we are 
 going up to the Mississippi River, where there will 
 be plenty of them." 
 
 It seemed that Putnam's old general, Phineas Ly- 
 man, was leading an expedition of former soldiers 
 and officers to the Mississippi Valley, expecting to 
 obtain for them a grant of lands in this region in 
 
 173 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 return for their valiant services to the British Gov- 
 ernment. General Lyman had been in England for 
 the past ten years trying to obtain this grant. The 
 English court, according to the pleasing habit of 
 courts, had kept him dangling and disappointed for 
 years, but at last, in 1772, he thought he had at- 
 tained his object, and returned to America. Here 
 he formed the company with the romantic name. 
 Daniel, his father, and cousin. Lieutenant Rufus 
 Putnam, made the trip to New York on horseback 
 as far as Norwich, and from there in a sloop down 
 the Sound and up the East River to New York. 
 They had an exciting passage through Hell Gate, 
 where their sloop was nearly wrecked on account 
 of a bad pilot. Daniel was wild with excitement, 
 which he tried his best not to show, when the sloop 
 finally touched at the dock and they landed and 
 made their way over the cobbled streets of the 
 town. He had never seen so many buildings be- 
 fore, and such handsome ones, of red and black 
 Dutch bricks, with stately high stoops. It was 
 Sunday, and as they crossed Broadway the peo- 
 ple were returning from church. After dinner, at 
 the modest tavern where they put up, the Putnams 
 
 174 
 
"COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS" 
 
 went to church also, the Brick Presbyterian, where 
 they heard Dr. John Rodgers, a noted divine. This 
 was the largest church Daniel had ever been in, and 
 he found plenty to interest him in its construction 
 and the looks and manners of the congregation, 
 even if the good Doctor's sermon was somewhat 
 over his head. 
 
 Early the next morning he begged his father or 
 his cousin to take him sightseeing. Though New 
 York then extended over only an infinitesimal part 
 of its present area, there was much for him to 
 gaze at — the fort and Battery, the Mall near Trin- 
 ity Church where the fine ladies walked in the after- 
 noons, and King's College, where boys his own age 
 were studying. But more interesting than all were 
 the docks, smelling of tar, oakum, molasses and raw 
 sugar, with spicy smells of cargoes from still far- 
 ther lands, the gallant sloops with their tall masts, 
 and the bronzed tattooed sailors, with gold or brass 
 rings in their ears. As his father was busy much 
 of the time superintending the preparation of the 
 vessel on which they were to sail, Daniel had plenty 
 of opportunity to wander about these fascinating 
 docks. 
 
 175 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 On December 25, a day which in Daniel's part 
 of the world had never been marked by any spe- 
 cial celebration, he was surprised to find the New 
 Yorkers suspending business just as if it were Sun- 
 day. The Putnams had few New York acquaint- 
 ances, so Daniel did not guess at the merry doings 
 inside the houses which marked the Dutch and Eng- 
 lish observation of Christmas and New Year's — the 
 presents — the burning of the Yule log — the plum 
 puddings all on fire — the wassail bowls — and the 
 merry dances in which old and young joined. If 
 he had, I am afraid the heart of that thirteen-year- 
 old boy would have been envious in spite of his 
 Puritan bringing-up! 
 
 The next day, too, was a holiday, or "hollow 
 Day," as Putnam, the elder, wrote it in his diary. 
 On Sunday came another sermon; this time it was 
 at "ye oald Englesh Church." This was Trinity 
 Church, on the site of which, in New York, an- 
 other Trinity Church building now stands, sur- 
 rounded by its old graveyard, a restful oasis in the 
 midst of towering skyscrapers. 
 
 During the next two weeks preparations for 
 the voyage went briskly forward, and on January 
 
 176 
 
"COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS" 
 
 lo, 1773, the Company of Military Adventurers, 
 with their young companion, set sail in their good 
 ship Mississippi. 
 
 On January 25 they crossed the Tropic of Can- 
 cer, and a few days later sailed among the Bahama 
 Islands. On January 31 they entered the harbor 
 of St. Nicholas' Mole, on the northwestern end of 
 the Island of Haiti. They stayed there four days, 
 which gave Daniel a chance to explore this strange 
 new tropical country, with its dark-skinned people, 
 and beautiful tropical vegetation. On February 4 
 they coasted along the rocky coast of Haiti, saw 
 on their right Cuba, on the shore of which Daniel's 
 father had been wrecked in the Havana campaign 
 ten years before, neared the north coast of Jamaica 
 and landed at Montego Bay. 
 
 There the three Putnams went to visit a Jamaica 
 plantation. Daniel was frightened when a savage 
 dog attacked the manager, who was showing them 
 about. But if he was anything like a modern boy, 
 he could not help laughing, even if he did his best 
 to conceal it decorously, when his father, in an at- 
 tempt to drive the dog away, fell backward into a 
 vat of Jamaica rum, the principal product of the 
 
 177 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 plantation ! This necessitated a hasty return on Is- 
 rael's part to the ship, to change his rum-soaked 
 garments. 
 
 The next day it was discovered that the town 
 was full of smallpox, so no one ventured from the 
 ship who had not had the disease. They weighed 
 anchor that day and took their leave of Jamaica. 
 
 They sailed northwest to Cape San Antonio, 
 Cuba, encountering extremely hot weather and be- 
 ing delayed by a calm, so that it took them a week 
 to make the short voyage. Thence they sailed for 
 Pensacola, Florida, reaching there in ten days. 
 There was an English army post there, and Daniel's 
 father met two of his old friends of the French 
 and Indian War, General Frederick Haldimand, of 
 the St. Lawrence expedition, and Major John Small. 
 
 The Military Adventurers were exceedingly sur- 
 prised and disappointed at this place to find that no 
 royal instructions had been received in Florida re- 
 garding their supposed grant of land on the Mis- 
 sissippi. "However," as Rufus Putnam wrote in 
 his diary, "the possibility of its yet arriving, with 
 the proposal made for granting Lands to the com- 
 pany on terms within the power of the Governor 
 
 178 
 
"COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS" 
 
 and Council Induced the Committee to resolve on 
 proceeding on the business of reconnoitering the 
 country on the Mississippi and to make such Sur- 
 veys as we might think proper," 
 
 They set sail in their sloop again, on the daz- 
 zling blue water of the Gulf of Mexico, and four 
 days later came in sight of the archipelagos of 
 small islands which guard the mouth of the Missis- 
 sippi. They turned, and were soon in the main 
 channel of the river, wide, yellow and sunny, flow- 
 ing between low banks lined with endless brakes 
 of Cottonwood and willow. Daniel, who was keep- 
 ing a, sharp lookout, presently saw a long, widening 
 ripple in the water, and cried, "Alligators!" Sure 
 enough, it was one. On their way up the river 
 Israel Putnam shot three. 
 
 On March 30 they reached New Orleans, a 
 French town which had been ceded, together with 
 the rest of French Louisiana, to the Spaniards, ten 
 years before, but which still kept its French cus- 
 toms and population. There were about three thou- 
 sand two hundred inhabitants here, of whom a 
 third were negro slaves. The Military Adventurers 
 landed at the dike by the water front; found the 
 
 179 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 streets unpaved, sometimes almost impassable, and 
 swarming with reptiles, and the houses all built up 
 on stilts about fifteen feet from the ground. The 
 main part of the little town was very squalid, but 
 out on the Bayou Road were the handsome resi- 
 dences of the French planters, red-roofed houses 
 surrounded with wide verandas, in the midst of 
 indigo and myrtle plantations. Through the open 
 doors Daniel caught glimpses of lofty halls lead- 
 ing to spacious drawing-rooms, where beautiful 
 Creole girls, dressed with foreign elegance, talked 
 and laughed with true French gayety, and were 
 waited upon hand and foot by the numerous black 
 slaves. 
 
 The Military Adventurers stayed in New Or- 
 leans about a week*; then, as their captain, for some 
 reason, refused to take the sloop further, they con- 
 tinued their trip in small boats or bateaux. They 
 were free to continue up the river, since the Eng- 
 lish owned the lands on the east side of the Mis- 
 sissippi above Orleans Island. 
 
 In a few days they came to an Acadian settle- 
 ment. These Acadians, as perhaps you know from 
 reading Longfellow's "Evangeline," had been taken 
 
 1 80 
 
"COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS'* 
 
 by the English from their homes in Nova Scotia 
 and scattered all over the colonies. Theirs was 
 a sad fate, though history tells us, that from the 
 point of view of the British Government, their re- 
 moval was necessary, because the simple, obstinate 
 peasants were so much under the influence of their 
 French priests, who in turn made themselves tools 
 of the French Government, that they refused to 
 take the oath of allegiance to the English, in spite 
 of fifty years of kind treatment on their side, and 
 were therefore a source of great danger to the 
 English in case of another war. 
 
 There was no Longfellow yet to tell in poetry the 
 story of the Acadians, but the Putnams heard it 
 instead from the lips of the refugees themselves — 
 of their "exile without an end, and without an ex- 
 ample in story." Those who reached this far land 
 of Louisiana were the happiest. They found there 
 other French people to keep them company, a fruit- 
 ful soil, and a far kindlier climate than in their 
 lost Acadia. There they built them the long, low 
 houses with wide galleries covered with climbing 
 roses and honeysuckle vines, where the mocking 
 birds made their nests, where the negroes laughed 
 
 i8i 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and sang in the negro cabins at the rear, and the 
 boundless prairies stretched back of them, fertile 
 pasture-lands for their herds of cattle. They might 
 well have exclaimed to our wayfarers, as Basil 
 the blacksmith does in the poem, 
 
 Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers; 
 Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer. 
 Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil as a keel 
 through the water. 
 
 All the year round the orange groves are in blossom; 
 
 and grass grows 
 More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. 
 Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in 
 
 the prairies; 
 Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests 
 
 of timber 
 With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into 
 
 houses. 
 After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow 
 
 with harvests, 
 No King George of England shall drive ycu away from 
 
 your homesteads. 
 Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your farms 
 
 and your cattle. 
 
 There today their descendants form a distinct 
 and numerous population. 
 
 After stopping at this transplanted Acadia for 
 182 
 
"COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS" 
 
 a day, the explorers went on up the Mississippi, 
 sometimes rowing against the current and some- 
 times advancing by means of tow-ropes pulled by 
 a part of the crew on shore. It was a hard, hot, 
 monotonous trip, and they were all glad to reach 
 Fort Rosalie, the site of Natchez, four hundred 
 miles from the Gulf. Fifty years before, the en- 
 tire garrison, two hundred men, had been mas- 
 sacred by the Natchez Indians, and the women and 
 children carried away. The latter were afterward 
 returned to New Orleans, and adopted by the peo- 
 ple. From Natchez they turned and went fifty 
 miles, nearly to the mouth of the Bayou Pierre. 
 Bayou is a term used to describe those streams 
 which take water from the Mississippi and empty 
 it into the Gulf. They are caused by the deposit 
 of silt, which blocks a part of the rhain channel 
 of the stream. 
 
 The scenery of this bayou was at first interesting 
 to the Putnams, but soon grew monotonous. Day 
 after day they glided over the brown water, be- 
 tween swampy jungles, where the trees were draped 
 heavily with the pall-like strands of the gray, hang- 
 ing moss. Now and then a blue or a white heron 
 
 183 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 took its silent flight over them, a vulture flapped 
 heavily away from a dead branch, or the ripple of 
 an alligator broke the mirror-like calmness of the 
 stream. They retraced their way, reached the Mis- 
 sissippi again, and then explored the Big Black 
 River, a few miles above Natchez, in what is now 
 the State of Mississippi. Israel Putnam and some 
 of the others, with a Choctaw Indian as guide, set 
 off on foot and did a good deal of exploring by 
 land, getting almost to the Walnut Hills. They 
 were stopped by a chief of the Choctaws, who for- 
 bade them to go further, and showed them a com- 
 mission he had received from Governor Chester, 
 granting the Choctaws certain rights in this region. 
 Upon hearing this, the party thought it best to 
 return down the Mississippi, landing and exploring 
 parts of the eastern bank on the way. A few 
 miles below the Bayou Manchac, nearly a hundred 
 miles from the mouth of the Mississippi, they found 
 their sloop, which the captain had brought up the 
 river to meet them. They gladly embarked in it, 
 and after a few days came in sight of the small, 
 reedy islands, and the bright green sea-marshes of 
 Mississippi Sound. Then the wind blew keen and 
 
 184 
 
"COMPANY OF MILITARY ADVENTURERS" 
 
 cool upon them, and the broad, bright expanse 
 of the Gulf burst upon their eyes, weary of the 
 brown water and monotonous windings of the Mis- 
 sissippi. 
 
 In three weeks they were in New York again. 
 This time Daniel was not so anxious to explore 
 the city, for he could hardly wait to get back to 
 Pom fret and tell his family and boy friends of all 
 the things he had seen. He and his father and 
 cousin Rufus, took passage on a sloop for Nor- 
 wich. Their dangers were not yet over; the sloop 
 sprung her mast, and they had trouble reaching 
 port. But at last they were there, and then they 
 took passage in a row-boat up the river, and 
 made the last stage of the journey home by horse- 
 back, which seemed to Daniel and his father a re- 
 markably solid and comfortable way of traveling 
 after all the months of water journey. By August 
 12 they were back at Wolfe Tavern — and Daniel 
 probably put on such airs over his travels that his 
 stepbrother and sister and the younger Putnam 
 children wished that he had never gone. 
 
 But it seemed that things had happened and 
 were happening in New England which made the 
 
 185 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Southland tame by comparison. Daniel's inter- 
 est in the Mississippi faded into the background 
 when, soon after his return, he heard his elders 
 vehemently discussing the tax on tea, which they 
 were resolved not to pay, because it stood for the 
 principle of taxation without representation, hated 
 by the colonies. He heard that a large cargo of 
 the tea had been shipped to Boston. 
 
 "What will be done with it?" he asked his father. 
 
 "I don't know — but it will never be landed," was 
 Israel's reply. 
 
 Soon after the seventeenth of December the news 
 of the Boston Tea Party reached the Putnams. The 
 patriots of Boston had defied the King's authority 
 and dumped the tea into the harbor rather than 
 pay duty on it. During the action, not a person 
 was harmed nor other property injured. The mob 
 — if mob it could be called — was not rioting — it 
 was acting in defense of a principle. Putnam ex- 
 plained this to his children. He wanted them to 
 know the real meaning of the disturbance. He 
 told them that the liberty of their country was at 
 stake, and that he was ready to fight to defend it 
 if necessary. 
 
 i86 
 
XV 
 ON TO BOSTON! 
 
XV 
 
 ON TO BOSTON! 
 
 IN July, 1774, the Connecticut people heard that 
 the British Government had retaliated upon 
 Massachusetts by taking from her the power 
 to choose her own officers and representatives in 
 the Assembly, by sending troops to Boston, and 
 by closing the Boston port to all but warships. 
 This meant the stopping of all trade and nearly 
 all business — it meant starvation for Boston, un- 
 less sufficient supplies could reach her over the nar- 
 row isthmus that connected the city with the main- 
 land. 
 
 As soon as he heard the news, Colonel Putnam 
 was astir. He got on his horse and rode all over 
 his part of Connecticut, asking people for supplies 
 to send to Boston. In a few days he had collected 
 a drove of one hundred and thirty sheep, of which 
 his own farm had furnished a large number. Some 
 men would have sent these to Boston under the care 
 
 189 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 of a farm laborer, but not so Putnam. He was 
 not too great a man to escort the sheep all the way 
 to the distressed city himself. He was greeted in 
 Boston with great enthusiasm, and stayed at the 
 house of Dr. Joseph Warren, a young man who 
 was one of the most prominent patriots in Massa- 
 chusetts. 
 
 The British army had its quarters on Boston 
 Common, and many of the officers there were 
 friends of Putnam — General Gage, Major Small, 
 Lx)rd Percy, and others. Putnam went to see them. 
 They entered into friendly, but hot, political dis- 
 cussions. Major Small bantered him about coming 
 down to fight. 
 
 "Twenty ships-of-the-line and twenty regiments 
 may be expected from England," he told Putnam, 
 "in case a submission is not speedily made by Bos- 
 ton." 
 
 "If they come," said Putnam quickly, "I am 
 ready to treat them as enemies." 
 
 Other officers, who had not heard this retort, 
 asked him what part he would take in case of 
 war. 
 
 "I shall take part with my country in any event," 
 190 
 
ON TO BOSTON! 
 
 answered Putnam, without a second's hesitation. 
 
 "Can you, who have seen so many EngHsh 
 victories of fleets and armies, doubt that the Eng- 
 lish can easily acquire a country which does not 
 own a single ship, regiment, or magazine?" they 
 asked. 
 
 "I can only say," answered the Connecticut 
 Colonel, "that justice would be on our side, and the 
 event with Providence. But I have calculated that 
 if it took the combined forces of England and her 
 colonies six years to conquer such a feeble coun- 
 try as Canada, it would take, at least, a very long 
 time for England alone to overcome her own widely 
 extended colonies, which are much stronger than 
 Canada. When men fight for everything dear, in 
 what they believe the most sacred of all causes, and 
 in their own native land, they have great advan- 
 tages over their enemies who are not in the same 
 situation. For my part, having considered all the 
 circumstances, I fully believe America would not 
 be so easily conquered by England as you gentle- 
 men seem to expect!" 
 
 "Seriously now, Colonel Putnam," asked an of- 
 ficer, "don't you think a well-appointed British army 
 
 191 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 of five thousand veterans could march through the 
 whole continent of America?" 
 
 "No doubt they could," replied Putnam, with a 
 twinkle in his eye. "No doubt they could, if they 
 behaved civilly, and paid well for everything they 
 wanted. But," he went on, "if they should attempt 
 it in a hostile manner (though the American men 
 were out of the question), the women, with their 
 ladles and broomsticks, would knock them all on 
 the head before they had got halfway through!" 
 
 After a few days Putnam returned home. He 
 had hardly reached there when he received a let- 
 ter from a Boston gentleman saying that the Brit- 
 ish troops and artillery had fired upon the Boston 
 people on the preceding night, and that men from 
 all over New England were hastening to the spot. 
 
 Putnam had no reason to disbelieve the letter. 
 He sent it on by messenger, and himself alarmed 
 the countryside. Soon the roads to Boston were 
 crowded with people. Putnam was ahead of them, 
 with a few companions. They had not gone far 
 when they met a messenger who told them that 
 it was all a mistake, and that the alarm had been 
 caused by General Gage's sending some soldiers to 
 
 192 
 
ON TO BOSTON! 
 
 seize some powder and cannon in Charlestown. 
 Putnam at once returned and sent the people he 
 met back to their homes. The occurrence had 
 showed what a force could be raised at a few hours* 
 notice, and greatly alarmed the British in Boston. 
 
 The Assembly of Massachusetts, which had been 
 dissolved, organized itself into a Provincial Con- 
 gress, appointed Committees of Safety and Sup- 
 plies, and voted to raise an army of twelve thou- 
 sand men. All over New England the militia or- 
 ganized and drilled on the village greens. Many 
 of them were, like Putnam, experienced fighters in 
 the previous war. One-fourth part of them were 
 ready to fight at a minute's notice, and were called 
 minutemen. Meanwhile the blockade of Boston 
 went on, the friction between the British and the 
 Colonials increased steadily, and Gage determined 
 to make an aggressive movement. He sent out sol- 
 diers to seize the military stores collected at Con- 
 cord, Mass. 
 
 One warm day in April, 1765, Israel Putnam and 
 his son Daniel were plowing in the fields. Sud- 
 denly they heard the sound of galloping hoofs and 
 the rat-tat-tat of a drum. A man on horseback 
 
 193 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 was galloping down the road. He reined up his 
 horse for a moment and shouted, "War's begun! 
 British troops have fired upon our men at Lexing- 
 ton, and we chased them all the way to Cambridge !" 
 then passed on, in a cloud of dust. 
 
 Colonel Putnam dropped the handle of his plow 
 and unharnessed his horse. 
 
 "Go home and tell your mother that I've gone 
 to Boston !" he cried to Daniel. He mounted the 
 farm horse and was off down the road. 
 
 Daniel gazed after him with his mouth open. It 
 had all happened so quickly that he felt as if he 
 must be dreaming. Then he realized that he was 
 not, and that he must go home and deliver his 
 message. But how he longed to be on the way to 
 Boston, too! And, presently, he was to have his 
 wish. 
 
 The next day "Old Put" was in Boston. He 
 had traveled not less than one hundred miles on 
 horseback in twenty-four hours, for he had gone 
 out of his way to alarm the countryside. He 
 attended a council of war in Cambridge the day 
 he arrived, and the parole of the day was "Put- 
 nam," in his honor. 
 
 194 
 
ON TO BOSTON! 
 
 He found that the British were safely hemmed 
 in in Boston, so he went away for a week to at- 
 tend the session of the Connecticut Legislature at 
 Hartford and help in the levying of troops. He 
 was given the rank of Second Brigadier-General 
 of the Connecticut forces. His influence and repu- 
 tation induced many Connecticut men to join the 
 army. Men who had been in the French and Ca- 
 nadian War were especially anxious to fight under 
 brave "Old Put." Putnam soon returned to Cam- 
 bridge, making arrangements for his troops to fol- 
 low him. 
 
 Soon sixteen thousand New England men were 
 besieging General Gage in Boston. Their camps 
 were stretched out in a great semi-circle, all the 
 way from Jamaica Plain to Charlestown Neck. Ar- 
 temas Ward was commander-in-chief. His head- 
 quarters were at Cambridge, and he kept Putnam 
 with one regiment near him there so that he could 
 ask his advice. 
 
 Putnam was busy all the time. His son Daniel 
 had managed to join him, and has left us a very 
 interesting account of what he observed of his 
 father's doings. "His experience had taught him," 
 
 195 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 he said, "that raw and undisciplined troops must 
 be employed in some way or other, or they would 
 soon become vicious and unmanageable. His 
 maxim was, *It is better to dig a ditch every morn- 
 ing and fill it up at evening than to have the men 
 idle.' " However, there was plenty of real work to 
 do in throwing up defenses at Cambridge at vari- 
 ous points. Putnam was said by an eyewitness to 
 be "constantly on horseback or on foot, working 
 with his men or encouraging them." A soldier 
 who was not working as hard as he might told 
 afterwards that "Old Put" demanded of him and 
 his comrades to what regiment they belonged. "To 
 Colonel Doolittle's," they replied. 
 
 "Doolittle? Do no^^^hing at all!" exclaimed "Old 
 Put" scathingly. 
 
 General Gage heard that Putnam was leading a 
 part of the forces that were besieging Boston, and 
 as he knew that he had many warm friends among 
 the British officers, he hoped that he might be pre- 
 vailed upon to come over to the British side. He 
 accordingly sent a secret messenger to Putnam 
 saying that if he would turn Loyalist he might 
 count upon being made a Major-General of the Brit- 
 
 ig6 
 
ON TO BOSTON! 
 
 ish army, and would receive a great deal of money 
 for his services. Needless to say, General Putnam 
 refused the ofYer with contempt. 
 
 Gage had plenty of reason to wish Putnam 
 with him instead of against him. Some popu- 
 lar verses about the siege of Boston, written by 
 John Trumbull, a patriot of the time, give an idea 
 of the state of affairs. 
 
 Nay, stern with rage, grim Putnam boiling, 
 Plundered both Hogg and Noddle Island; 
 Scared troops of Tories into town, 
 Burned all their hay and houses down, 
 And menaced Gage unless he'd flee. 
 To drive him headlong to the sea. 
 
 And the poet goes on, speaking of an agreement 
 which Gage had violated to let the people of Boston 
 leave town : 
 
 So Gage of late agreed you know. 
 
 To let the Boston people go, 
 
 Yet when he saw, 'gainst troops that braved him, 
 
 They were the only guards that saved him. 
 
 Kept off that Satan of a Putnam, 
 
 From breaking in to maul and mutt'n him. 
 
 He'd too much wit such leagues to observe, 
 
 And shut them in again to starve. 
 
 197 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 There are references here to some exciting skir- 
 mishes Putnam commanded, during which droves 
 of valuable livestock were safely driven ashore at 
 low tide from Hog Island and Noddle Island, in 
 Boston Harbor, under the fire of British armed ves- 
 sels and the British battery in what is now East 
 Boston. The patriots during the Noddle Island 
 skirmish set fire to one British schooner and dis- 
 abled a British sloop, capturing several ship can- 
 non and other valuable property. 
 
 A good many prisoners having been taken on each 
 side in the skirmishes around Boston, an exchange 
 was provided for. General Putnam and Dr. War- 
 ren were appointed to receive them on the Ameri- 
 can side. When they reached Cambridge, the place 
 of the exchange, they found Majors Moncreifife and 
 Small in charge of the British prisoners. Both 
 were old friends of Putnam. He fairly ran into 
 their arms. It is said that he kissed them. His 
 heart was too warm to let political differences inter- 
 fere with personal feelings. When the exchange 
 was completed, all the officers went to the house of 
 Dr. Foster nearby, and had a friendly meal and 
 visit ; then they separated to their respective armies. 
 
 198 
 
ON TO BOSTON! 
 
 Three more British generals arrived on the twen- 
 ty-fifth of May — Sir William Howe, a brother of 
 the popular young officer who had been killed at Ti- 
 conderoga, Sir Henry Clinton, and Burgoyne. They 
 brought reenforcements from England which raised 
 Gage's army to ten thousand men. The patriots 
 heard that Gage planned to seize Dorchester 
 Heights on the night of June i8. They determined 
 to anticipate him, and a council of officers was held. 
 
 Putnam had been urging for weeks that they 
 make a bold movement and seize Bunker Hill. 
 When Ward and Warren opposed the idea, on the 
 ground that they had very little gunpowder and 
 no battering cannon, he said that he did not expect 
 to shell Boston, but to draw the enemy out where 
 they might meet them on equal terms in battle. He 
 said that the army was eager for an engagement, 
 and tired of doing nothing; that he only wished to 
 risk two thousand men, and that they would set 
 their country an example of which it would not be 
 ashamed, and show those who oppressed them what 
 men could do who were determined to live free or 
 not live at all ! 
 
 Young Dr. Warren answered, "Almost thou per- 
 199 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 suadest me, General Putnam, but I must still think 
 the project a rash one. Nevertheless, if it should 
 ever be adopted and the strife becomes hard, you 
 must not be surprised to find me with you in the 
 midst of it." 
 
 "I hope not, sir," said Putnam, "you are yet but 
 a young man, and our country has much to hope 
 from you both in council and in war. It is only a 
 little brush we have been contemplating; let some 
 of us who are older and can well enough be spared 
 begin the fray; there will be time enough for you 
 hereafter, for it will not soon be ended." 
 
XVI 
 BUNKER HILL 
 
XVI 
 BUNKER HILL 
 
 AFFAIRS had now come to a point where 
 Putnam's plan was the only one to follow. 
 At sunset, June i6, a brigade of twelve 
 hundred men, under the command of Colonel Pres- 
 cott, of Pepperell, Maine, paraded on Cambridge 
 Common, where prayers were said by Dr. Langdon, 
 President of Harvard College. When darkness 
 came, the little army, guided by two servants carry- 
 ing dark lanterns, felt their way over Charlestown 
 Neck in almost perfect silence. Once across, there 
 was a discussion among the leaders whether Bunker 
 Hill, or Breed's Hill, nearer the harbor, should be 
 fortified. Breed's Hill was finally decided upon, 
 and at midnight the soldiers fell to throwing up 
 earthworks. 
 
 Putnam had been stationed by General Ward back 
 of the Neck at a point which the latter thought 
 would be attacked by the British in an effort to cut 
 
 203 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 off the Colonials' retreat from the Neck. But sup- 
 erintendence of this did not take up Putnam's whole 
 time, and he simply could not bear to keep out of 
 what was going on on the Hill. Though everything 
 had been kept secret the day before, his son Daniel, 
 who was at his father's post, knew that the latter 
 was to be in some important action. We have 
 Daniel's own account of his father's leave-taking. 
 
 "A little after sunset my father called me aside 
 and said, *You will go to Mrs. Inman's as usual to- 
 night, and it is time you were gone. You need not 
 return here in the morning, but stay there tomor- 
 row; the family may want you and if they find it 
 necessary to leave the house, you must go with 
 them where they go ; and try now, my son, to be as 
 serviceable to them as you can.' " 
 
 Mrs. Inman was the wife of a Tory refugee in 
 Boston. She and her family lived on a farm near 
 Putnam's post, which was surrounded by "rebel" 
 troops, and kindhearted General Putnam stationed 
 Daniel at her hous^ in order that she might feel 
 protected amongst those whom she considered her 
 enemies. 
 
 "This order," says Daniel, "connected with what 
 204 
 
. ISRAEl/ PUTNAM FA'ql 
 
 Israel Putnam 
 From a portrait by Wilkinson 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 I had seen during the day, left no doubt in my 
 mind that some military movement was going for- 
 ward in which my father was to participate. I 
 called to mind his abstraction and self-commun- 
 ing, the broken sentences that had escape him, indi- 
 cating battle and blood-shedding, and my imagina- 
 tion pictured him as mangled with wounds and none 
 to help him. With earnest entreaty I asked leave 
 to accompany him. 'You, dear father,' I said, 'may 
 need my assistance much more than Mrs. Inman; 
 pray let me go where you are going.' — *No, no, 
 Daniel, do as I have bid you,' was the answer which 
 he affected to give sternly, while his voice trembled 
 and his eyes filled. Then, as if perfectly compre- 
 hending what had been passing in my mind, he 
 added, 'You can do little, my son, where I am going, 
 and besides, there will be enough to take care of 
 me. 
 
 "I went as directed to Mrs. Inman's, but took no 
 interest in the conversation of her nieces or the 
 maternal kindness of their aunt ; my mind was else- 
 where, and I retired early to bed, but not to sleep; 
 the night was as sleepless to me as to those who 
 were toiling or watching on the confines of Boston. 
 
 205 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 I had a strong suspicion that Charlestown was the 
 spot to which the hostile movement was directed; 
 and long before the first gun was fired I had risen 
 and seated myself at the window of my chamber, 
 anxiously looking thitherward." 
 
 The daybreak that Daniel waited for came all 
 too soon to the workers on Breed's Hill. They had 
 had only three short hours of darkness during which 
 to raise defenses. When it grew light, those on the 
 British ships perceived what was going on and 
 commenced firing. Luckily the trenches were deep 
 enough already for the men to shelter themselves. 
 
 The people in Boston heard the cannon, and 
 crowded the housetops to see what was going on. 
 It was as if a drop curtain had gone up, and they 
 were spectators at some enthralling play. There 
 were Tories there who applauded every shot from 
 the ships' guns; there were patriots, who, like 
 Daniel, trembled because their near relatives were 
 out in the trenches. 
 
 At noon the British landed troops on the shore 
 below Breed's Hill. Howe led them, supported by 
 many other brave English officers. The English 
 had decided to attack the Americans in front. They 
 
 206 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 did not think the rebels would give them much 
 trouble. 
 
 Putnam had spent a strenuous night and morn- 
 ing. Eye-witnesses have described how he gal- 
 loped here and there on his white horse. He was in 
 his shirt-sleeves, with an old white felt hat on his 
 head. One minute he would be at Bunker Hill, 
 furiously urging on the fortifications there, which 
 he was determined not to give up — it was against 
 his advice that they had moved on to fortify Breed's 
 Kill — at another he was bringing up cannon to the 
 front — at another he was riding across the Neck, 
 now raked by shell from the enemy's ships, on his 
 way back to Cambridge to beg slow, timid old Gen- 
 eral Ward to send reenforcements. He did not have 
 charge of the battle, but he was the life and soul of 
 it, inspiring tihe men, shaming cowards, urging 
 everything forward. 
 
 When the British actually landed, Putnam hur- 
 ried to the front. He knew now that the post Gen- 
 eral Ward had given him in the rear was not threat- 
 ened and that he could leave it permanently. He 
 saw that the earthwork on Breed's Hill was still 
 incomplete. A place on the left was undefended. 
 
 207 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Putnam ordered a rail fence some distance back 
 pulled up and placed behind another, with hay be- 
 tween, to form a fairly effective breastwork. He 
 stationed soldiers behind it. 
 
 Warren came on the field, as he had threatened 
 he would. Putnam again remonstrated. He was 
 not half so anxious to have other and younger offi- 
 cers risk their lives as he was to risk his own. 
 
 "I am sorry to see you here, Creneral Warren," 
 he said. "I wish you had left the day to us, as I 
 advised you. From appearances, we shall have a 
 sharp time of it. But, since you are here, I will 
 receive your orders with pleasure." 
 
 Dr. Warren was now President of the Provincial 
 Congress of Massachusetts, and had also recently 
 been appointed a major-general in the army of his 
 colony. He therefore was of higher rank than 
 Putnam. 
 
 The young man replied modestly, "I came only 
 as a volunteer; I know nothing of your disposi- 
 tions, and will not interfere with them; tell me 
 where I can be most useful." 
 
 Putnam directed him to the redoubt which Col- 
 onel Prescott's men had built. Pie thought it the 
 
 208 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 safest place, and said, "You will be covered there." 
 
 "Do not think I come to seek a place of safety," 
 answered Warren indignantly. "Tell me where 
 the onset will be most furious." 
 
 Putnam again pointed to the redoubt. "That," 
 said he, "is the enemy's object. Prescott is there, 
 and will do his duty. If that can be defended, the 
 day is ours ; but, from long experience of the char- 
 acter of the enemy, I think they will finally succeed, 
 and drive us from the works; though, from the 
 mode of attack which they have chosen, we shall be 
 able to do them infinite injury; and we must be 
 prepared for a brave and orderly retreat, when we 
 can maintain our ground no longer." 
 
 Warren thanked him, and went to the redoubt. 
 The men there cheered him, and Prescott offered 
 him the command, which he again declined. 
 
 Old General Seth Pomeroy, now in his seventieth 
 year, and one of Putnam's bravest comrades in the 
 Crown Point campaign, had, in spite of feeble 
 health, ridden from his home in Northampton to 
 attend the battle. When he reached the Neck, he 
 found it so swept by the enemy's fire, that he was 
 afraid to risk his borrowed horse on it, so he dis- 
 
 209 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 mounted and walked across. As he strode up the 
 Hill, gun in hand, Putnam saw him and exclaimed, 
 "By God, Pomeroy, you here! A cannon-shot 
 would waken you out of your grave!" 
 
 Meanwhile the British were drawn up on the 
 strand below, waiting for reenforcements. Putnam 
 rode across the Neck again at peril of his life and 
 at last persuaded General Ward to send more 
 troops. The New Hampshire troops and Putnam's 
 Connecticut men were ordered to the front. Put- 
 nam assigned them to their posts and generally 
 directed the forces not commanded by Prescott. 
 
 Rat-tat-tat f The drums were calling the British 
 to action. They advanced in solid ranks over the 
 green grass of the meadows. They wore bright 
 red coats, with white belts. Their arms flashed in 
 the sun of the hot June day. They were some of 
 the best regiments of Old England, led by gallant 
 officers. 
 
 Nearer and nearer they came, while the American 
 farmers waited for them in the trenches. This was 
 their first battle against English troops. They were 
 badly organized and practically undisciplined. They 
 had worked all night and half the hot June day with- 
 
 2IO 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 out a bite to eat or a drop to drink ; they were nearly 
 fagged out. Could they stand their ground against 
 the King's trained army? 
 
 There was no doubt as to that question in Put- 
 nam's mind, anyway. He had fought with these 
 same New England farmers. He knew what they 
 were made of. His only fear was that they would 
 fire too soon. He rode along the line giving orders. 
 
 "Men, you are all of you marksmen — don't one 
 of you fire until you see the whites of their eyes!" 
 
 "Powder is scarce and must not be wasted." 
 
 "Fire low." 
 
 "Take aim at the waistbands." 
 
 "Aim at the handsome coats — pick off the com- 
 manders." 
 
 Similar orders were given by Prescott, Pomeroy, 
 Stark and other veteran officers. 
 
 The British advanced steadily. Gage had blun- 
 dered in making each of his redcoats carry one hun- 
 dred pounds of provisions besides their heavy arms 
 and ammunition. They were cramped by their tight 
 coats ; they sweated and panted. But their courage 
 was firm. They thought they would have no trou- 
 ble storming the lines of these rascally rebels. Howe 
 
 211 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 planned first to take the redoubt which Prescott 
 commanded. 
 
 They were within eight rods of it when the 
 Americans fired. Each Yankee had leveled his 
 flintlock at some particular soldier. When the shots 
 blazed out the British lines shivered and fell like 
 grass before the mower. The men were in heaps, 
 struggling, groaning and dying. Their blood 
 stained the bright green grass. General Pigot had 
 to give the word to retreat. 
 
 Meanwhile General Howe led his men to the rail 
 fence. Some of Putnam's men here had discharged 
 their muskets too soon. Putnam rode frantically 
 behind the lines threatening to cut down with his 
 sword the next ofiFender. When the British were 
 at the right distance, his men fired in a body — again, 
 when the smoke cleared away, the same terrible 
 scenes were visible. Here too the British had to 
 retreat. They had been hampered by the failure of 
 their artillery to work properly. The Master of 
 Ordnance had made a mistake and sent cannon balls 
 which were too large. 
 
 The English were not ready to give up, but ral- 
 lied for another charge. Again the deadly Ameri- 
 
 212 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 can fire worked fearful havoc with their ranks. The 
 British shot mostly went over the heads of the 
 Americans. 
 
 Putnam, besides directing the gun-fire at the rail- 
 fence, had been trying to get the artillery into action. 
 Colonel Gerrish had some artillery, but he could 
 not or would not bring his pieces forward. His 
 men had not been trained to use artillery, and they 
 had all scattered. General Putnam came to one 
 of the pieces, and furiously inquired where the offi- 
 cers were. A soldier told him that the cartridges 
 were too big and could not be loaded. Putnam said 
 they could be loaded. He took a cartridge, broke it 
 open, and loaded it with pieces with a ladle. He 
 helped the soldiers to load two or three others in 
 the same way, and the cannon were discharged. He 
 found an artillery officer retreating behind a hill, 
 and threatened him with instant death if he did not 
 go back. He finally had the men drag the artil- 
 lery to the rail fence, where he directed the dis- 
 charges. 
 
 The British had set fire to Charlestown, and a 
 detachment of the British, under cover of the smoke, 
 tried to gain the rear of the Americans. Putnam's 
 
 213 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 sharp old eyes detected the movement, and he plied 
 his cannon with such effect that the British were 
 beaten back. 
 
 But with bull-dog courage, the English charged 
 for the third time. The powder of the Americans 
 was nearly exhausted. They resorted to muskets, 
 and picked off the officers. Three times General 
 Howe was left alone, so many of his staff had fallen 
 around him. It is thought the reason the Americans 
 spared him was the affection they had felt for his 
 splendid brother, who died at Ticonderoga. It is 
 known that Major Small's life was spared through 
 Putnam's intervention. Small saw several Ameri- 
 can marksmen leveling their pieces at him, and con- 
 sidered himself as good as killed. Just then Put- 
 nam rushed forward, struck up the muzzles of the 
 pieces with his sword, and cried out, "For God's 
 sake, my lads, don't fire at that man! I love 
 him as I do my brother." Small heard him dis- 
 tinctly, bowed, thanked him, and walked away un- 
 harmed. 
 
 Putnam's action was reciprocated by another 
 English officer, Colonel Abercrombie, who, as he lay 
 dying in front of the redoubt, exclaimed, *Tf you 
 
 214 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 take General Putnam alive, don't hang him, for he 
 is a brave fellow," 
 
 At last the Americans' powder was completely- 
 gone. They clubbed their muskets and fought with 
 them. Then they began hurling stones from the 
 breastworks. But the British now knew their weak- 
 ness. They swept on. Pigot scaled the redoubt, 
 followed by his men. Prescott had to (5rder a 
 retreat, which was accomplished by his men in an 
 orderly manner. Prescott and Warren were the 
 last to leave the redoubt, Warren had just left it 
 when a bullet struck him in the forehead, and he 
 fell, dying. 
 
 Putnam was riding up and down on the slope be- 
 hind the Neck, shouting to some late reenf orcements 
 to hurry to the front. "Press on, press on," he 
 cried. "Our brethren are suffering, and will be 
 cut off," The musket-balls flew around him, but 
 he never noticed them. Then he hurried to the 
 front again. His men at the rail fence were the 
 last to retreat, and he could not believe that they 
 were actually forced to do so. Not realizing that 
 their powder was all gone, he begged them wildly 
 to rally and renew the fight. 
 
 215 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 "Make a stand here," he shouted, waving his 
 sword in the air. "We can stop them yet!" "In 
 God's name form and give them one shot more." 
 This was at Bunker Hill, which he still hoped might 
 be defended. But the soldiers pressed on past him. 
 "Halt, you damned cowards," he yelled, "halt and 
 give them another shot." ("Old Put" apologized 
 long afterwards to his church for the violent lan- 
 guage he used at Bunker Hill. "But it was enough 
 to make an angel swear," he declared, "to see the 
 rascals run away from the British!") 
 
 At last he took his stand near a field-piece and 
 seemed determined to brave the foe alone. His 
 troops had left, and one cannot blame them. One 
 sergeant only dared to stand with Putnam; he was 
 shot down, and the enemy's bayonets were just upon 
 the General when he retreated. 
 
 The General is immortalized in this final stand 
 both in picture and verse. Opposite page 216 you 
 will see a reproduction of a picture by Trumbull, 
 where Putnam, in the rear, is waving his sword at 
 the enemy. Joel Barlow, a Yale graduate who 
 wrote the "Vision of Columbus," soon after the 
 Revolution, says: 
 
 216 
 
BUNKER HILL 
 
 There strides bold Putnam, and from all the plains. 
 Calls the third host, the tardy rear sustains, 
 And, 'mid the whizzing deaths that fill the air, 
 Waves back his sword, and dares the following war. 
 
 Putnam's retreat marks the end of the Battle of 
 Bunker Hill. The Americans had lost the battle, 
 but they had gained a victory. They had proved 
 their mettle ; they had forced the British back again 
 and again, and given the British officers such an 
 opinion of their valor and marksmanship that many 
 times afterward during the Revolution the English 
 generals, especially Howe, hesitated to attack when 
 thej might have done so. At White Plains and 
 at the Battle of Brooklyn Heights the influence of 
 Bunker Hill was felt, and prevented American de- 
 feat. The Battle of Bunker Hill encouraged wav- 
 ering Americans to join the patriot side, and heart- 
 ened all the colonies. Howe might well have said 
 with the general of old, "Another such victory, and 
 we are undone !" 
 
 "I wish we could sell them another hill at the 
 same price," said General Greene. Washington de- 
 clared that now there could be no doubt that the 
 liberties of the people were secure. Benjamin 
 
 217 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Franklin prophesied that England had lost her col- 
 onies forever. 
 
 Israel Putnam said nothing that has been handed 
 down to us. He had fought in the battle, and that 
 was enough for him. 
 
XVII 
 AT NEW YORK 
 
XVII 
 AT NEW YORK 
 
 I 
 
 *^HE morning after the Battle of Bunker 
 Hill, Daniel Putnam, who had faithfully 
 staid by the Inmans during this trying 
 time, at last felt that he could leave them and hasten 
 to Cambridge. He had heard that his father was 
 safe, but could hardly believe it, so many were the 
 tales of the danger he had been in. He was much 
 relieved, therefore, when, after some search, he 
 found him in charge of the workmen who were 
 fortifying Prospect Hill, where the troops had re- 
 treated. The General was dashing about as if he 
 had not been up for two nights and a day before. 
 He wore the same clothes he had on when Daniel 
 left him, and said he had not put them off nor 
 washed himself for thirty-eight hours. Daniel said 
 he certainly looked it ! He and the officers near per- 
 suaded the valiant old gentleman to go to his quar- 
 ters and take some refreshment and rest, 
 
 221 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 On the second of July, 1775, under the branches 
 of the elm-tree which still stands on Harvard Com- 
 mon, Washington, who had just arrived in Cam- 
 bridge from Philadelphia, took formal command of 
 the Continental army. He had brought with him 
 commissions from Congress for four major-gen- 
 erals : Ward, Charles Lee, Philip Schuyler and 
 Putnam. Putnam's was the only one he ordered 
 delivered at once upon his arrival. There was 
 some doubt about the suitability of the others, but 
 there was no doubt about his. 
 
 Washington was not acquainted with Putnam 
 when he came, but he soon grew to know and like 
 him. One day, observing him directing the soldiers 
 in the making of some defenses, Washington said, 
 "You seem to have the faculty, sir, of infusing your 
 own industrious spirit into all the workmen you 
 employ." In one of his letters from Cambridge to 
 the President of Congress about the same time, he 
 speaks of Putnam as "a most valuable man, and a 
 fine executive officer." 
 
 The Father of his Country was, as we all know, 
 a serious person, but Putnam, on one occasion, was 
 too much for even his gravity. One day General 
 
 222 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 Washington, looking out from an upper window, 
 saw the following astounding sight : General Put- 
 nam at full gallop on horseback, holding a very- 
 large, fat lady astride in front of his saddle! It 
 was one of the few times in Washington's life that 
 he was overcome with laughter. When he could 
 control his features he went downstairs and learned 
 that the woman was a dangerous spy whom Putnam 
 had discovered and lost no time in bringing to 
 headquarters. Washington was one of those who 
 called Putnam "Old Put," and the nickname shows 
 the affection in which the great man held our 
 hero. 
 
 The British had not moved from Boston, with 
 the exception of their action at Bunker Hill. The 
 Americans were still besieging them. Putnam con- 
 tinued to work as hard as ever, directing the build- 
 ing of earthworks on Prospect and Winter Hills. 
 Once he noticed a man hanging back from work. 
 He told him to place some sods on the wall, saying, 
 "You are a soldier, I suppose?" The man did not 
 obey the order at once. "Oh, I see you are an offi- 
 cer," said the old General, and immediately went to 
 work and put the sods in position himself. Mean- 
 
 223 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 while, the balls were continually pouring in from 
 the British forts, killing the men and tearing the 
 works. 
 
 The Americans could not accomplish anything of 
 importance for many months on account of their 
 scarcity of ammunition and cannon. At last, in 
 the following spring, Washington received a num- 
 ber of cannon brought by Henry Knox from Ticon- 
 deroga on sledges. He resolved to seize Dorches- 
 ter Heights. At the council of war, where the 
 officers met to plan the attack, Putnam was restless, 
 continually going to doors and windows, to see 
 what was going on outside. 
 
 "Sit down, General Putnam," Washington 
 begged ; "we must have your advice and counsel in 
 this matter, where the responsibility of its execution 
 is devolved upon you." 
 
 "Oh, my dear General," answered Putnam, "you 
 may plan the battle to suit yourself, and I will fight 
 it!" 
 
 The plan at that time was to have four thousand 
 men embark on the Charles River under the gen- 
 eral command of Putnam, capture Beacon Hill and 
 the Neck, while the British were engaged at Dor- 
 
 224 
 
j 7 YUC /^ iL/nu 771 
 
 From a Portrait by Trumbull 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 Chester Heights, which it was supposed that they 
 intended attacking; but later circumstances made 
 this plan impracticable, and Washington himself 
 seized Dorchester Heights on the night of March 4, 
 under cover of a cannonading of Somerville, East 
 Cambridge, and Roxbury. 
 
 The British were now at the mercy of the be- 
 siegers, and soon after Howe began to embark his 
 troops. Boston was completely evacuated on the 
 morning of March 30, and Putnam led the Ameri- 
 can troops into their regained city, amid great re- 
 joicings from the patriots who had been cooped up 
 there all winter. 
 
 Soon after, Putnam was sent by Washington to 
 New York, to superintend the preparations for de- 
 fense there. Putnam had his headquarters at No. I 
 Broadway, where his family and Aaron Burr, then 
 a young man of twenty and his aide-de-camp, 
 joined him. There were many Tories in town, and 
 Putnam had to put the city under martial law to 
 prevent disturbances. Washington soon arrived, 
 and preparations went on as quickly as possible for 
 fortifying Brooklyn Heights and other points, sink- 
 ing ships in the channels of the Hudson and the 
 
 225 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 East River to prevent the British navy passing 
 above them, and so on. 
 
 General Howe had sailed for Halifax, and did 
 not come to New York till the last of June. But 
 then he arrived in full force, with more than a 
 hundred men-of-war and transports. He seized 
 Staten Island without any difficulty, for the Ameri- 
 cans had few heavy cannon, and landed all his men 
 there. The British ships managed to get past the 
 obstructions in the Hudson and the East River, also. 
 
 About this time Putnam heard of a man named 
 Bushnell, who was so much ahead of his times that 
 while he was at college he had invented a sort of 
 submarine. He called it The American Turtle. 
 
 Putnam sent Major Aaron Burr to invite the in- 
 ventor to come to see him. He came, with a model 
 of the Turtle, which was examined and approved 
 by Putnam and other officers. Bushnell was given 
 money to build his machine. 
 
 In ten days the "submarine" was finished. It 
 lived up to its name, for it looked something like a 
 large sea-turtle. It had an air-tight compartment 
 large enough to contain a man, and an apparatus 
 for rowing. There was an opening at the bottom, 
 
 226 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 which admitted water, which made the boat de- 
 scend. Two brass forcing pumps, worked by the 
 operator, forced out the water, and permitted the 
 boat to rise. To this vessel was attached by a screw 
 a powder magazine made out of two pieces of hol- 
 lowed oak timber. This the operator could release 
 when he wished to. Inside the magazine, there was 
 a piece of clockwork, which could be set for any 
 desired time, and at the end of that time released 
 a strong lock, which produced the explosion. 
 
 The only difficulty was, who was to go down with 
 the Turtle? The inventor himself could not, be- 
 cause he was an invalid. His brother, however, 
 who understood the mechanism, said he would go. 
 But at the last minute he fell sick. A call for volun- 
 teers was sent out, and finally Abijah Shipman, 
 called "Long Bige," a sergeant from New London, 
 responded. 
 
 The rest of the story is told in a contemporary 
 journal, Noah's Messenger. It may or may not be 
 true, but anyway it sounds so. "Long Bige," it 
 seems, was quite a character, a regular Yankee, and 
 was passionately devoted to his quid of tobacco. 
 
 Before daylight, on a July morning, he got on 
 227 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 board the torpedo, intending to get under the bot- 
 tom of the Eagle, the flagship of Admiral Howe. 
 Putnam, Heath, Knowlton, Burr and other officers 
 accompanied him to shore, where he was to embark. 
 
 Abijah went on board the Turtle, and was about 
 to screw himself in the air-tight compartment, when 
 he suddenly stuck his head out. 
 
 "Say, who's got a quid of tobacco?" he asked. 
 "This old piece won't last, anyhow." He pulled 
 out an ounce or more of the weed and threw it 
 away. 
 
 The officers laughed. They were not in the habit 
 of chewing. Not one had a quid of tobacco. 
 
 "You see how it is," said Putnam, jokingly, "we 
 continental officers are too poor to raise even a to- 
 bacco plug amongst us. But wait — tomorrow, after 
 you have done your duty, some of the southern offi- 
 cers shall give you an order for a keg of Old Vir- 
 ginia." 
 
 This promise did not console Abijah. "Mind, 
 Gen'ral, if the old Turtle doesn't do her duty," he 
 warned, "it's all because I go to sea without to- 
 bacco." 
 
 He screwed himself in, the machine was towed 
 228 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 into the river, cast off, and disappeared under the 
 water. Putnam and the others waited an hour or 
 more on the Battery, expected every moment to 
 see the Eagle blown up. But nothing occurred. 
 
 Morning came, and they were certain that some- 
 thing had happened to poor Abijah. But suddenly 
 Putnam, scanning the water through his field 
 glasses, exclaimed, "There he is!" Sure enough, 
 the top of the machine could be plainly seen emerg- 
 ing from the water in a little bay to the left of the 
 Eagle. The sentinel on the ship saw it also, and 
 fired a volley of musketry at it. The Turtle dis- 
 creetly ducked, while the Eagle, much alarmed, got 
 under way in great haste. Putnam sent boats out 
 from shore to pick up Abijah, if they could find him. 
 He was taken up in his boat finally near Governor's 
 Island. He had cast off the magazine, and it ex- 
 ploded somewhere in the harbor an hour after, 
 throwing up water in every direction. Though it 
 did no harm, it frightened the rest of the men-of- 
 war, and made them evacuate the harbor for a 
 time. 
 
 Abijah said on landing: 
 
 "Just as I said, Gen'ral ! it all failed for want of 
 229 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 that quid of tobacco. You see I am narvous with- 
 out it. I got under the Eagle s bottom, but some- 
 how the screw struck the iron bar, that passed from 
 the rudder pintle, and wouldn't hold on, anyhow I 
 could fix it. Just then I let go the oar to feel for a 
 quid, to steady my nerves, and I hadn't any. The 
 tide swept me under her counter, and away I slipped 
 top o' water. I couldn't manage to get back, so I 
 pulled the lock, and let the thunder-box slide. I 
 say, can't you raise a quid among you now?" 
 
 Abijah was too much of a hoodoo for The Ameri- 
 can Turtle. She was not tried again. 
 
 Among the British officers on Staten Island was 
 Major James MoncreifTe, whom Putnam had known 
 during the French war, and whom he had greeted 
 so enthusiastically at Cambridge at the exchange 
 of prisoners. Moncreiffe had a daughter Margaret, 
 a beautiful, vivacious girl, fourteen years old. She 
 was at this time in Elizabeth, New Jersey, but was 
 very anxious to visit her father on Staten Island. 
 To do this, she had to pass through the American 
 lines. Major Moncreiffe wrote to Putnam, asking 
 for a pass for her. He did not address him as 
 "General," because, considering Putnam a rebel, he 
 
 230 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 thought he had no right to the title. Margaret was 
 afraid this omission would make trouble, so she 
 wrote to Putnam herself, begging that he overlook 
 it. Putnam's reply was dictated by his own kind- 
 ness, but written by his secretary, Aaron Burr, so 
 it is better expressed than many of his notes. He 
 said that the omission of his title did not bother 
 him in the least, nor influence his conduct in the 
 matter of giving the pass. "As an officer he [her 
 father] is my enemy, and obliged to act as such, be 
 his private sentiments what they will. As a man I 
 owe him no enmity ; but, far from it, will with pleas- 
 ure do any kind office in my power for him or any 
 of his connections." He went on to say that he 
 could probably obtain a pass for her later, though 
 not at the present time, and, in the meantime, he 
 invited her to visit his wife and two daughters, at 
 his house. 
 
 The Tory girl accepted, and this is what she 
 thought of the household when she arrived. 
 
 "When I arrived in Broadway (a street so 
 called), where General Putnam resided, I was re- 
 ceived with great tenderness by Mrs. Putnam and 
 her daughters, and on the following day I was in- 
 
 231 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 troduced by them to General and Mrs. Washington, 
 who likewise made it their study to show me every 
 mark of regard; but I seldom was allowed to be 
 alone, although sometimes, indeed, I found an op- 
 portunity to escape to the gsWevy, on the top of the 
 house, where my chief delight was to view with a 
 telescope our fleet and army on Staten Island. My 
 amusements were few ; the good Mrs. Putnam em- 
 ployed me and her daughters constantly to spin flax 
 for shirts for the American soldiers, indolence in 
 America being totally discouraged; and I likewise 
 worked for General Putnam, who, though not an 
 accomplished muscadin, like our dilettanti of St. 
 James's Street, was certainly one of the best char- 
 acters in the world; his heart being composed of 
 those noble materials which equally command re- 
 spect and admiration." 
 
 At a dinner one day at which Washington was 
 present, Margaret refused to join in a toast to the 
 Continental Congress. This somewhat embarrassed 
 the company, she says ; but "my good friend, Gen- 
 eral Putnam, as usual, apologized, and assured them 
 I did not mean to offend." They told her they 
 would forgive her if, when she dined at General 
 
 232 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 Howe's, she would drink to the health of General 
 Washington or General Putnam. 
 
 A few days later, Margaret was allowed to go 
 over to Staten Island, on a barge. She was at once 
 invited to Howe's to dinner. She says she almost 
 died of shyness at being obliged to encounter the 
 gaze of some forty or fifty other guests at the din- 
 ner; but she apparently soon recovered herself, for 
 being asked, according to the prevailing military eti- 
 quette, to propose a toast, she gave, "General Put- 
 nam." A Colonel at her elbow said in a low voice, 
 "You must not give him here." 
 
 "Oh, by all means," said Sir William Howe, mis- 
 chievously, "if he be the lady's sweetheart I can 
 have no objection to drink his health." 
 
 Margaret v/as more embarrassed than ever. She 
 wished herself a thousand miles away. To divert 
 the attention of the company from herself, she gave 
 her host a note from Putnam which she had been 
 commissioned to deliver. She was a little ashamed 
 of the spelling of her Yankee friend, and we can't 
 blame her. This was the note : 
 
 "Gin'ral Putnam's compliments to Major Mon- 
 crieffe, has made him a present of a fine daughter, 
 
 233 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 if he don't lick [like] her he must send her back 
 again, and he will previde her with a good tTvig 
 [Whig] husband." 
 
 Evidently Margaret's father did like her, for we 
 don't hear of her going back to her rebel friends 
 again, or of her getting a twig husband, either. 
 
 Brooklyn Heights is across the East River from 
 New York, and commands it very much as Dorches- 
 ter Heights commands Boston. In August, the Brit- 
 ish on Staten Island, who had now been reenforced 
 by Clinton's and Cornwallis's armies, and numbered 
 more than thirty-one thousand, were seen preparing 
 to make an aggressive movement, and it was soon 
 evident that they were going to cross to Long Island. 
 Upon this, Washington reenforced the garrison on 
 Brooklyn Heights, which was under the command 
 of Greene, and as Greere v/as sick with a fever, he 
 presently sent General Putnam over to take com- 
 mand. 
 
 Putnam had only been there two days when Gen- 
 eral Howe with hl.^ army managed to get in his rear, 
 surprise and overpower his picket on the Jamaica 
 Road, and win what was called the Battle of Long 
 Island in the rear of the Brooklyn works. Putnam 
 
 234 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 was not considered responsible for this defeat, as 
 he had not had time to become acquainted with the 
 ground, and had acted with Washington's assistance 
 in posting his men. It was a sad defeat, however, 
 for the American side, and would have been worse, 
 if Howe had not remembered Bunker Hill and de- 
 cided not to make a direct assault on Brooklyn 
 Heights, but to besiege it instead. A few nights 
 later, Washington, with masterly strategy, managed 
 to bring all his men away from Long Island in 
 boats without Howe's perceiving it. Putnam helped 
 in this brilliant movement; and Washington left him 
 in command of the city of New York, while he took 
 a part of the forces above New York along the 
 Harlem River toward White Plains. 
 
 About two weeks after, on September 15, Putnam, 
 who was preparing to evacuate New York, which 
 could not long be held now that the British possessed 
 Brooklyn Heights, heard the sound of cannon from 
 the East River, at what was then Kip's Bay, now 
 the foot of 314th Street. He galloped to the spot, 
 meeting on the way Washington, who was riding 
 from his headquarters on Harlem Heights in the 
 same direction. The two leaders found that the men 
 
 235 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 who had been posted to guard the East River bank 
 were fleeing before the advance of the British, who 
 had landed. 
 
 Washington and Putnam did their best to rally 
 the men, but finding this was impossible, Putnam 
 dashed back to New York, to save his troops there, 
 if possible, from being cut oflF by the British. He 
 found they had already been started by Major Burr, 
 and urged them on. It was a very hot day, and 
 many of the men fainted. Putnam's horse was 
 covered with foam; he was everywhere, encourag- 
 ing the troops. They would certainly have been in- 
 tercepted, however, if it had not been for Mrs. 
 Lindley Murray, a Quaker lady favoring the Ameri- 
 can side, who lived in a handsome house on the hill 
 still called Murray Hill. She sent an invitation to 
 General Howe and his officers to come and lunch 
 with her. They accepted — and she detained them 
 so long with her delightful hospitality, that, by the 
 time luncheon was over, Putnam and his hot and 
 tired men had safely reached Washington's army 
 at Harlem Heights. 
 
 In spite of this lucky escape, the Continental army 
 was greatly depressed. They had surrendered their 
 
 236 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 position, and had been ignominiously chased by the 
 British, who, in a skirmish soon after this on Clare- 
 mont Heights, sounded the fox-hunting call on 
 their bugles while they pursued the Americans as 
 if they were foxes. They rallied at Morningside 
 Heights and at White Plains, but, soon after, Fort 
 Washington, which General Putnam and General 
 Greene had considered safe, fell into the hands of 
 the British, and Fort Lee, on the opposite side 
 of the Hudson, had to be evacuated. 
 
 The British now were in possession of Rhode Is- 
 land, Long Island, the city of New York, Staten 
 Island, and almost all of New Jersey. Washing- 
 ton's army dwindled to three thousand ragged and 
 starving men; whole brigades were deserting him 
 at one time. Howe had offered a full pardon to all 
 who would take the oath of allegiance, and many 
 did so. Washington began his retreat. Pie was 
 driven from Fort Lee to Newark, from Newark to 
 New Brunswick, from New Brunswick to Prince- 
 ton, from Princeton to Trenton, Cornwallis pursu- 
 ing him with his army, often in plain sight. It 
 was the darkest period of the American cause ; but 
 no matter who desponded or deserted, Putnam never 
 
 237 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 gave up courage. He supported Washington on the 
 retreat, and was one of the last of the fugitive army 
 to cross the Delaware at Trenton early in Decem- 
 ber. 
 
 From there Putnam was sent to take command 
 at Philadelphia, where a British attack was expected. 
 Congress was so frightened that it left the city and 
 went to Baltimore. Putnam fell to work on de- 
 fenses; but at Christmas time came the glorious 
 news of the capture of Trenton, which greatly im- 
 proved the situation. Putnam was now needed to 
 help Washington in New Jersey, and he spent the 
 rest of the winter at Princeton. While here he did 
 not take part in any large movement, but did good 
 service in harassing the British in their winter quar- 
 ters at Brunswick, cutting off their supply trains, 
 taking prisoners, etc. He took nearly one thousand 
 prisoners and more than one hundred and twenty 
 baggage wagons during the winter. There was no 
 one who could surpass him at this sort of hand-to- 
 hand work. Major Burr was again on his staff dur- 
 ing this winter, and wrote, "I am at present quite 
 happy in the esteem and entire confidence of my 
 good old General." No one guessed then that such 
 
 238 
 
AT NEW YORK 
 
 a promising and brilliant young man as Burr would 
 fall into disgrace in later life. 
 
 The "good old General," as usual, was showing 
 great kindness to his prisoners. When he came to 
 Princeton, after the Battle of Princeton, he found a 
 wounded Scotchman there, who had received little 
 attention from the surgeon. Putnam at once got 
 medical attendance for him and did everything in his 
 power to make him comfortable. 
 
 "Pray, sir, what countryman are you?" the 
 wounded man is said to have asked Putnam. 
 
 "An American." 
 
 "Not a Yankee?" incredulously. 
 
 "A full-blooded one," said Putnam, good-humor- 
 edly. 
 
 "I am sorry for that," answered the Scotchman. 
 "I did not think there could be so much goodness 
 and generosity in an American, or, indeed, in any- 
 body but a Scotchman !" 
 
 This same man. Captain McPherson, was very 
 anxious to have a friend in the British army at 
 Brunswick come to see him. Putnam hated to re- 
 fuse, but he had a force of only a few hundred 
 troops at that time, and did not wish to expose his 
 
 239 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 weakness to the enemy. However, he thought of a 
 plan by which he could avoid this, while letting the 
 sick man see his friend. He sent a flag of truce to 
 the British camp, with a request to let the visitor be 
 escorted to the American camp after dark. That 
 evening, he had lights put in all the rooms of the 
 College buildings and in every window of every 
 house in town. While the visitor was talking to 
 his friend, Putnam's force continually marched past 
 his window, sometimes in small detachments, some- 
 times altogether. The visitor, when he returned to 
 Brunswick, reported to the British commander that 
 the American troops at Princeton numbered at least 
 four or five thousand men ! 
 
XVIII 
 IN TROUBLE AND OUT AGAIN 
 
XVIII 
 IN TROUBLE AND OUT AGAIN 
 
 IN May, 1778, Putnam was placed by Washing- 
 ton in command of the Highlands of the Hud- 
 son. He was supported by Brigadier-General 
 Alexander McDougall, at Peekskill, to whom Gen- 
 eral Washington wrote, when he told him that Put- 
 nam was to have the chief command of that depart- 
 ment: 
 
 "You are well acquainted with the old gentle- 
 man's temper; he is active, disinterested, and open 
 to conviction, and I therefore hope, that, by afford- 
 ing him the advice and assistance which your knowl- 
 edge of the post enables you to do, you will be very 
 happy in your command under him." 
 
 Soon after Putnam took command, Edmund 
 Palmer, a Tory spy, was captured inside the Ameri- 
 can lines and condemned to be shot. Sir Henry 
 Clinton, in charge of the British troops in New 
 •York, thought he could frighten Putnam into letting 
 
 243 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 him go. He sent up to claim Palmer, saying that 
 the Amierican general had no right to have him 
 executed, and threatening vengeance if the execution 
 was carried out. 
 
 Putnam sent back this reply : 
 
 "Headquarters, 7 August, 1777. 
 
 "Edmund Palmer, an officer in the enemy's serv- 
 ice, was taken as a spy lurking within our lines ; he 
 has been tried as a spy, condemned as a spy, and 
 shall be executed as a spy, and the flag is ordered to 
 depart immediately. "Israel Putnam. 
 
 "P. S. — He has been accordingly executed." 
 
 In the fall of 1777, Putnam was obliged to sur- 
 render Peekskill and the other forts on the Hudson 
 to Sir Henry Clinton, who moved up the river and 
 succeeded in out-maneuvering him. This blow was 
 counteracted by Burgoyne's surrender at Saratoga 
 Springs, and Putnam with the troops was enabled 
 to reoccupy the forts. During this time so full of 
 disaster from a military point of view, Putnam suf- 
 fered two personal bereavements ; first, the death of 
 his stepson, a promising young man, of whom he 
 was very fond, who died in his headquarters at 
 
 244 
 
IN TROUBLE AND OUT AGAIN 
 
 Peekskill, and then his wife, who died there just 
 about the time of Burgoyne's surrender. 
 
 Putnam was very anxious to attack New York, 
 and planned to send down for that purpose some 
 reeriforcements which were soon to arrive from the 
 Northern Department, which were no longer needed 
 there after Burgoyne's surrender. He was full of 
 these plans one day of October, 1777, when a young 
 man, not yet twenty, in a lieutenant-colonel's uni- 
 form, rode up to his quarters, with a message from 
 Washington. It was Washington's aide-de-camp, 
 Alexander Hamilton. He had been sent to get reen- 
 forcements for Washington's army in Pennsylvania, 
 and told General Putnam that Washington wished 
 the very troops he, Putnam, was planning to send 
 to New York. 
 
 After delivering this message in a curt, abrupt 
 manner, rather galling to the older man, Hamilton 
 mounted a fresh horse and went on to Albany. 
 
 A week later he returned, and found that Put- 
 nam, still full of his New York project, had not sent 
 the required detachments. Hamilton was very 
 angry. 
 
 "I am astonished and alarmed beyond measure," 
 245 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 he sent word to Putnam, "that all his Excellency's 
 views have been hitherto frustrated, and that no 
 single step of those I mentioned to you has been 
 taken to afford him the help he absolutely stands in 
 need of, and by delaying which, the cause of Amer- 
 ica is put to the utmost conceivable hazard. . . . 
 How the non-compliance can be answered to Gen- 
 eral Washington, you can best determine. 
 
 "I now, Sir, in the most explicit terms, by his 
 Excellency's authority, give it as a positive order 
 from him, that all the Continental troops under 
 your command may be immediately marched to 
 King's Ferry, there to cross the river, and hasten 
 to reenforce the army under him. ..." 
 
 These were strong words from a boy not yet 
 twenty, with little military experience, to a General 
 of Putnam's age, and Putnam felt that they con- 
 tained "some most unjust and injurious reflections" 
 upon himself, and sent the letter to Washing- 
 ton with that remark. He could not get it out 
 of his head that the troops were needed in New 
 York. 
 
 Washington replied, mildly but firmly, "I cannot 
 but say, there has been more delay in the march 
 
 246 
 
IN TROUBLE AND OUT AGAIN 
 
 of the troops, than I think necessary; and I could 
 wish that in future my orders may be complied with 
 without arguing upon the propriety of them." 
 
 Putnam realized he was in the wrong. The truth 
 of it was, he was growing old, a trifle "sot in his 
 ways," as his New England friends would have 
 said; but he was not too old to learn a lesson, and 
 he never repeated the mistake. 
 
 Another trouble was in store for Putnam. The 
 New York people did not like him. He had been 
 too lenient to the deserted and suffering families 
 of Tories, and had too readily granted passes in 
 and out of the American lines. Politics also had 
 something to do with his unpopularity. There was 
 a good deal of jealousy between New York and 
 New England, and Putnam was a dyed-in-the-wool 
 New Englander. At any rate, the feeling, without 
 any real fault, so far as we can tell, on Putnam's 
 side, became so strong that Washington thought it 
 best to remove him from the command of the High- 
 lands. General McDougall was given the post. 
 Meanwhile, in response to a demand from Congress, 
 Washmgton arranged for a Court of Inquiry which 
 should investigate the losses of the posts on the 
 
 247 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 Hudson during the fall before, and Putnam's con- 
 duct therein. 
 
 The "good old General" showed his patriotism 
 by taking these humiliations in good part. All he 
 wished for was to serve his country, in whatever 
 way was permitted him. He returned to Connecti- 
 cut and was employed in recruiting. When he had 
 finished this duty, and learned that Congress had 
 not yet decided upon his case and his rank was still 
 in doubt, he did indeed write a pathetic note to 
 Washington. 
 
 "I have waited with the utmost impatience for 
 orders," he said, "but none having arrived ... I 
 think there must be some mistake. ... I must beg 
 that the Hon'ble Congress will take this matter into 
 their consideration, and grant that I may be ac- 
 quitted and that with Honor or tried by a Genl. 
 Court Martial ... so that My Character Might 
 stand in a clearer light to the world; but to be 
 posted here as a public spectator for every ill 
 Minded person to make their remarks upon, I think 
 is very poor encouragement for any person to ven- 
 ture their lives and fortunes in the Service." 
 
 By the time this note reached Washington, the 
 248 
 
IN TROUBLE AND OUT AGAIN 
 
 investigating committee had reported to Congress 
 that Putnam was not to blame for the loss of the 
 forts, and Congress had accepted the decision and 
 restored to him his old standing in the army. He 
 served again on the Hudson for a short time, and 
 was then sent to Connecticut to protect the country 
 along the Sound from marauding parties which the 
 British sent out from the neighborhood of New 
 York. 
 
 During the winter of 1778 some of the Connecti- 
 cut troops mutinied because of the great hardships 
 they suffered and the total stoppage of their pay. 
 They assembled under arms, determined to march 
 to Hartford and demand redress of the Assembly. 
 Putnam heard of it, and instantly galloped to the 
 spot. He made them the following speech, in his 
 earnest, blunt way: 
 
 "My brave lads, whither are you going? Do you 
 intend to desert your officers, and to invite the enemy 
 to follow you into the country? In whose cause 
 have you been fighting and suffering so long? Is 
 it not your own? Have you no property? no pa- 
 rents? no wives? no children? You have thus 
 far behaved like men — the world is full of your 
 
 249 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 praises — and posterity will stand astonished at your 
 deeds; but not if you spoil it all at last. Don't you 
 consider how much the country is distressed by the 
 war; and that your officers have not been any 
 better paid than yourselves? But we all expect bet- 
 ter times, and then the country will do us ample jus- 
 tice. Let us all stand by one another, then, and 
 fight it out like brave soldiers. Think what a shame 
 it would be for Connecticut men to run away from 
 their officers !" 
 
 He then rode along the line, and the men who 
 but a moment before had been ready to desert, pre- 
 sented arms and saluted him in the usual way. That 
 was the end of the mutiny. 
 
 In February, 1779, General Putnam was at 
 Horseneck, a part of Greenwich, Connecticut, with 
 a small picket of about one hundred and fifty men, 
 when he heard that the Tory, Governor Tryon of 
 New York, was approaching with fifteen hundred 
 men to surprise the American outpost and seize the 
 salts works near Greenwich. Putnam determined 
 to delay the British as much as possible, though he 
 knew he had no chance of success against them. He 
 stationed himself with his men on top of a hill in 
 
 250 
 
Pi TNAMs Escape at Horse Neck 
 
IN TROUBLE AND OUT AGAIN 
 
 Greenwich, and as the British came near, sent them 
 several volleys from his two pieces of artillery, 
 which did them some damage, but not much. The 
 British dragoons prepared to charge. Putnam im- 
 mediately ordered his men to seek refuge in a 
 swamp near by, which was inaccessible to horses. 
 He himself started to ride to Stamford and get 
 reenforcements. The dragoons saw him and gave 
 chase. For a quarter of a mile they pursued him, 
 and then the road reached a point where it passed 
 by a steep precipice. Down a part of this precipice 
 were some rough stones, placed to form irregular 
 steps from the plain below, by those who wished to 
 make a short cut to the little Episcopal Church on 
 the hill. The rest of the way was steep and rocky ; 
 no one had ever dreamed of descending it except 
 on foot. 
 
 Putnam heard the ringing hoofs behind him. He 
 did not hesitate a second, but spurred his horse and 
 dashed over the edge of the precipice ! Some say he 
 took tlie stone steps, others that he descended in 
 zig-zags; but he gained in safety the plains below. 
 The dragoons fired at him as he descended, and one 
 of the bullets pierced his military cap. None dared 
 
 251 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 follow. Putnam, at the bottom, waved his sword 
 tauntingly in their direction, and rode on towards 
 Stamford. 
 
 A woman in a farmhouse along the way heard 
 the beat of horse-hoofs and rushed to the door to 
 call her four little children out of the way. She 
 saw the hatless General, "his long hair blowing 
 about his round, kindly face." He stopped for a 
 moment on his way by, reining up his horse on his 
 haunches. 
 
 "Take your children in," he shouted. "The Brit- 
 ish are upon us!" The next instant he was gone. 
 
 When he returned to Horseneck with a reenforce- 
 ment, he found the British had left. Governor 
 Tryon, in recognition of Putnam's bravery on this 
 occasion, and also of his kindness to prisoners, is 
 said to have sent him a new suit of military clothes, 
 with a hat to replace the one shot through by the 
 British bullet. 
 
 I think that Putnam on this occasion leaped 
 straight into the hearts of American boys forever. 
 It was a fitting climax to a gallant career; and it is 
 almost the last thing I have to tell you of the old 
 hero. 
 
 252 
 
XIX 
 
 A SUNNY OLD AGE 
 
XIX 
 
 A SUNNY OLD AGE 
 
 IN December of the same year, Putnam, who had 
 been visiting at his home with Daniel, now a 
 Major in the army, was beginning his journey 
 on horseback back to the army's winter quarters in 
 Morristown, New Jersey, when he felt a numbness 
 in his right side, which rapidly grew worse. It was 
 a paralytic stroke. He dismounted at the house 
 of a friend, and after a while partially recovered 
 and was able to return home ; but he soon found, to 
 his great sorrow, that he could not resume his duties 
 in the army. 
 
 He lived eleven years longer, and was able to 
 walk and ride horseback. His contemporaries draw 
 a pleasant picture of the old gentleman, as sunny as 
 ever in his old age, the pride of the countryside, rid- 
 ing here and there to visit friends, or telling stories 
 to visitors in his own home. 
 
 Two of his favorite stories at this time were about 
 255 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 duelling, a practice of which he strongly disap- 
 proved. It seems that once, without intending it, 
 Putnam had offended a brother officer, who chal- 
 lenged him to a duel. Putnam did not refuse. 
 
 At the appointed time, the officer went to the duel- 
 ing ground, with a sword and pistols. As soon as 
 he entered the field, Putnam, who was standing at 
 the opposite end, about thirty rods away, leveled 
 his musket and fired in his direction. 
 
 The astonished officer ran towards him. Putnam 
 deliberately reloaded his gun. 
 
 "Stop!" cried the other. "What are you doing? 
 Is this the conduct of an American officer, and a 
 man of honor?" 
 
 "What am I doing?" Putnam replied. "A pretty 
 question to put to a man whom you intended to 
 murder! I'm going to kill you; and if you don't 
 beat a retreat in less time than it would take old 
 Heath to hang a Tory, you're a gone dog!" As 
 he said this, Putnam lifted his gun, all ready to 
 fire. 
 
 The ofificer turned and fled ! 
 
 The other story was about an English officer, a 
 prisoner on parole, who took offense at some re- 
 
 256 
 
Putnam's Duel with the British Officer 
 
A SUNNY OLD AGE 
 
 marks of General Putnam's about the British. He 
 challenged him. Putnam accepted the challenge, on 
 condition that he should select the weapons. The 
 next morning, they met. The Englishman found 
 Putnam sitting by the side of what seemed to be a 
 barrel of gunpowder, smoking a pipe. There was 
 an opening in the top of the barrel, and a match 
 had been put in the opening. 
 
 Putnam asked the Englishman to sit down on the 
 other side of the cask ; then he set fire to the match 
 with his pipe, remarked that there was an equal 
 chance for each of them when the gunpowder should 
 explode, and calmly went on smoking his pipe. 
 
 The Englishman watched the match for a mo- 
 ment, as the flame crept towards the powder. When 
 it was a few inches away, he decided to go — and he 
 went very quickly. 
 
 "Ah," cried "Old Put," "you are just as brave 
 a man as I took you to be. This is nothing but a 
 barrel of onions, with a few grains of powder on 
 the head, to try you by. But you don't like the 
 smell." 
 
 Putnam received two most appreciative letters 
 from Washington after his retirement. One said: 
 
 257 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 "Dear Sir — I am very happy to learn from your 
 letter of the 29th handed me by Major Humphreys, 
 that the present state of your health is so flattering, 
 and that it promises you the prospect of being in a 
 condition to make a visit to your old associates some 
 time this campaign. I wish it were in my power 
 to congratulate you on a complete recovery. I 
 should feel a sincere satisfaction in such an event, 
 and I hope for it heartily, with the rest of your 
 friends in this quarter. 
 
 "I am, dear Sir, &c., 
 
 "G. Washington." 
 
 The other contained the following sentences : 
 
 "I can assure you that, among the many worthy 
 and meritorious officers with whom I have had the 
 happiness to be connected in service through the 
 course of this war, and from whose cheerful assist- 
 ance and advice I have received much support and 
 confidence, in the various and trying vicissitudes of 
 a complicated contest, the name of a Putnam is not 
 forgotten ; nor will it be but with that stroke of time 
 which shall obliterate from my mind the remem- 
 brance of all those toils and fatigues, through which 
 
 258 
 
A SUNNY OLD AGE 
 
 we have struggled for the preservation and estab- 
 lishment of the rights, Hberties, and independence 
 of our country." 
 
 Needless to say, Putnam cherished this letter with 
 great pride. 
 
 Putnam passed his last years on his old farm in 
 Pomfret. Daniel was married and living on a farm 
 nearby; and Peter Schuyler Putnam, once the baby 
 of the family, now grown up and married, lived 
 with the General. 
 
 In 1790 Putnam died, after a few days' illness. 
 He was buried in the Brooklyn graveyard, and over 
 his tomb was placed a marble slab, with the follow- 
 ing epitaph, written by his friend, Timothy Dwight, 
 afterwards the president of Yale College : 
 
 TO THE MEMORY 
 
 OF 
 
 ISRAEL PUTNAM, ESquifC, 
 
 SENIOR MAJOR-GENERAL IN THE ARMIES 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNITED STATES- OF AMERICA 
 
 who 
 
 was born at Salem, 
 
 in the Province of Massachusetts, 
 
 on the 7th day of January, 
 
 A. D. 1718, 
 
 259 
 
ISRAEL PUTNAM 
 
 and died 
 on the 19th day of May, 
 A. D. 1790. 
 
 Passenger, 
 
 if thou art a Soldier, 
 
 drop a tear over the dust of a Hero, 
 
 who, 
 
 ever attentive 
 
 to the lives and happiness of his men, 
 
 dared to lead 
 
 where any dared to follow; 
 
 if a Patriot, 
 
 remember the distinguished and gallant services 
 
 rendered thy country, 
 
 by the Patriot who sleeps beneath this marble; 
 
 if thou art honest, generous, and worthy, 
 
 render a cheerful tribute of respect 
 
 to a man, 
 
 whose generosity was singular, 
 
 whose honesty was proverbial ; 
 
 who 
 
 raised himself to universal esteem, 
 
 and offices of eminent distinction, 
 
 by personal worth, 
 
 and a 
 
 useful life. 
 
 It is a true epitaph. Not alone in a military 
 way did Israel Putnam distinguish himself. Dur- 
 ing half a lifetime of rough days in camp, he kept 
 
 260 
 
A SUNNY OLD AGE 
 
 his personal honor clean and bright. He was a good 
 husband, a good father, a good citizen. Through 
 long years of bitter combat, he never went back on 
 a friend, and never treated a prisoner taken in fair 
 warfare as anything but a friend. There have been 
 greater men than Israel Putnam in our country's 
 history, men with bigger brains and cooler judg- 
 ment, but there have been none more honest, brave 
 and kind, none who have worked harder in the pub- 
 lic service, none who have cared less about their own 
 personal glory and reward. In the forest fighting 
 about Crown Point, in the cold of Canada, beneath 
 the burning sun of Cuba, on the waves of the Great 
 Lakes, in his quiet home in Connecticut, and amid 
 all the turmoil of the most troubled years of the 
 Revolution, Israel Putnam threw himself, heart and 
 soul, into his country's cause. He was an Ameri- 
 can through and through; and he has earned his 
 place in the ranks of our country's heroes for all 
 
 time. 
 
 (I)