an five hundred of the latter. Each side lost,
in killed and wounded, about one-third the total number of its men, for
the British brought about four thousand five hundred troops into the
field; while the Americans in active conflict, including such
reenforcements as reached the hill, scarcely exceeded fifteen hundred.

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

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

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

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

It is ce