A PARTIZAN FIGHTER
The shore of the beautiful lake was strewn with the slain, its waters
crimsoned by their blood, the French having lost nearly half their
regular force, and the English more than two hundred men. Several days
succeeding to the battle were passed in gathering the wounded and
burying the dead, in which dismal duty Putnam was engaged, with the rest
of the uninjured survivors.
As our hero kept no diary of his doings, we know only in a general way
that he was in the thickest of the fight, that he went out with the
devoted band under Colonel Williams, and was foremost at the finish
under General Lyman. It has been stated by some of Putnam's biographers
that he held the rank of captain in this, his first, battle; but a
careful search of the colonial records makes it appear that he was
merely a private. With his accustomed eagerness to be foremost in a good
cause, he had hurried to the front without thought of rank or wages; and
although the General Assembly of Connecticut, which convened in August,
promptly made him out a commission as captain of a company, it did not
reach him until after the fight.
He had outstripped his commission, had enlisted, had met the enemy,
acting, as he always acted, on his own initiative; and it seemed very
fit that he should be appointed to command a company of "partizans," as
the picked troops were called who made forays, performed scouting
duties, and led the advance of the main body.
He became associated with the redoubtable leader of the hardy company of
back-woodsmen known as "Rogers' Rangers," and he held his own with the
best of them. The duties of these rangers were particularly hazardous,
for they were ever in the advance, as scouts or skirmishers, employing
the Indians' tactics in bush-fighting, engaged as escorts for the wagon
trains, as well as for the artillery, etc. They were thoroughly
independent, in the fullest sense of the word, following their
commander's general rule only, which was: "Every man's reason and
judgment must be his guide, according to the particular situation and
nature of things, and that he may do this to advantage, he should keep
in mind the maxim, never to be departed from by a commander, viz., to
preserve a firmness and presence of mind on every occasion."
Had the foregoing rule been made expressly for our farmer-soldier, it
could not more exactly have exemplified the qualities he pre-eminently
possessed. He was a born "partizan," and entered at once into his
dangerous duties with ardor and zest.
There exists a "Report of Captain Putnam, who was sent by Captain Rogers
as a Spy to Ticonderoga," dated October 9, 1755, which illustrates both
the bravery of the young officer, and the defects of his early
education, to which allusion has been made. It is as follows:
"Then left Capt. Rogers upon a neck of Land upon the west side of
Lake George and Set out towards Tyconderogue to see what
Discoveries we Could make and after we had marchd about 7 or 8
miles we came upon a Large Mountain near the Heither end of the
narrowes, and when we came there we Could make no Discovery at all,
but after sometime we espyed three Barke Cannoes Drew upon the
Shore upon a point of Land that Ran into the Lake, and then wee
espyed two Indians Comeing out of the Bushes toward the Cannoes,
after water, and after sometime wee espyed several french and
Indians on the East side of the Lake ... and so Concluded to tarry
there all knight and see what further Discoveries wee Could make by
the fires in the knight, and just at the Dusk of the evening their
came four Cannoes from the East and went to the west side of the
Lake and landed on the point where the others were incamped, and
Drew up their Cannoes on ye Shore and by this time wee began to
Discover the fires on the point and on the east side of the Lake,
but Could not Discover what number their was, because the Bushes
were so thick by the Lake and about Day Brake they mustered their
men to work and then wee Left the mountain and returned to Capt.
Rogers on the point and when we Came within 60 or 70 Rods of the
point we Espyed 13 Indians pass by within 10 Rods of us, towards
the point where we left Capt. Rogers, and after they had passed by
us we Came to the point where we left Capt. Rogers, and found all
well this is the Chef of the Discovery and best account that I am
able to give."
"Israel Putnam."
Captain Putnam belonged to that class of soldiers, so large in the early
wars of our country, that would "rather fight than eat," and made much
less of wielding the sword than the pen. It may well be believed that
after receiving a few "Reports" like this herewith quoted, his superiors
vastly preferred he should stick to the sword, since he was so much
better at fighting than writing. He himself was doubtless of the same
opinion, so he was kept constantly employed at the dangerous and arduous
work of the ranger, and within a week of writing his first report he had
distinguished himself by saving his commander's life.
The French had retired to Crown Point and Ticonderoga, but the forests
between those points and Lake George were still swarming with hostile
Indians, engaged, like the Rangers, in reconnoitering the enemy's posts
and in cutting off stragglers. Captains Rogers and Putnam were ordered
by General Johnson to make a reconnaissance of Crown Point, and taking a
small party they penetrated the forests to within a short distance of
the works, where they left their men concealed, and, alone, set out on
their hazardous mission.
They lay all night within gunshot of the fort, and in the gray dawn of
morning approached more closely in order to secure the information
desired, when Captain Rogers, who was slightly in advance, was
discovered and set upon by a big Frenchman, who seized his musket and
gave the alarm. A companion sentinel hastened to the Frenchman's
assistance, but Putnam also was at hand, and getting in ahead brought
the guard to the ground by a well-aimed blow from the butt-end of his
musket, and while the enemy lay quivering in his death-agonies the two
companions hastened away. They rejoined their men and finally reached
the camp in safety.
An occurrence like this seemed of small moment at the time, perhaps, and
the ungrateful Rogers is said to have overlooked it entirely in his
report to General Johnson; but the same month (October, 1755) the two
again went out scouting, and another adventure followed which brought
Putnam's heroism into strong relief.
Going down the lake in their bateaux, on the last day of the month, they
landed at night at a point where they had discovered some camp-fires of
the enemy, and in the morning three spies were sent out into the forest.
These spies were Putnam, a man named Fletcher, and Lieutenant Robert
Durkee, who was afterward tortured to death by the Indians. They
accomplished the immediate object of their mission, which was to
ascertain the location of some detached camps of Indians, and one of
them, Captain Fletcher, returned to report. Putnam and Durkee kept on,
in order to reconnoiter the enemy's main camp at the "Ovens," and in
consequence nearly lost their lives.
Night overtook the two brave partizans before they had reached the
vicinity of the enemy, and when they saw the camp-fires gleaming they
incautiously approached, thinking that the French, like the English,
would be found within the circle. But the French pursued an altogether
different system, and probably the safer one, of building their
camp-fires within and themselves sleeping without the lines, protected
by the darkness of the night. Their sentinels were posted still further
from the center of the main body, so when the two spies approached and,
dropping to their hands and knees, crept cautiously toward the fires,
they had not gone far in this manner before they were discovered and
fired upon.
To their amazement, they then found themselves right in the midst of
the enemy, hemmed in on every side. Lieutenant Durkee was slightly
wounded in the thigh, but he and Putnam immediately rose to their feet
and made the best of their way out into the darkness amid a shower of
bullets, and pursued by the awakened enemy. Unable "to see his hand
before his face," Putnam soon fell into a clay-pit, and Durkee, like the
immortal "Jill" in the nursery rhyme, came tumbling after. Knowing that
the enemy were in swift and close pursuit, Putnam raised his tomahawk to
give the supposed hostile a deadly stroke, when Durkee fortunately
spoke. Thankful that he had escaped murdering his companion, Putnam
immediately leaped out of the pit, and followed by Durkee, groped his
way to some ledges, where they lay down behind a large log for the
remainder of the night. Before they lay down, the original narration
goes on to state, "Captain Putnam said he had a little liquor in his
canteen, which could never be more acceptable or necessary than on that
occasion; but on examining the canteen, which hung under his arm, he
found the enemy had pierced it with their bullets, and that there was
not a drop of liquor left. The next morning he found fourteen
bullet-holes in his blanket!"
His canteen was dry enough, but in falling into the clay-pit Putnam had
wet his gun, so that he could not return the fire of the Frenchmen, even
had he been so disposed. The tale as to the "fourteen bullet-holes in
his blanket" has often been held up to ridicule; but it is probably
true, for the blankets being rolled up, one ball alone might have cut
through many folds in its flight, and another have perforated his
canteen. At all events, he and his companion were in a most miserable
plight, all night in danger of being discovered. In the morning
(according to the official report by Captain Rogers) "they made the best
retreat they were able. Hearing the enemy close to their heels, they
made a tack and luckily escaped safe to our party."
"How he escaped a wound is passing strange," says one of Putnam's
biographers [Mr. J.T. Headley]; "but he was one of those men who seem
eternally seeking death without being able to find it. There are some
persons in the world who appear to bear a charmed life, which no amount
of daring or exposure can endanger. Foremost in the charge, and the last
to retreat, they are never found with the dead. Fate seems to delight to
place them in the most desperate straits, on purpose to make their
deliverance appear the more miraculous. Putnam was one of those favored
beings, and was not born to be killed in battle."
Another incident related of Captain Putnam shows his acute penetration
and acquaintance with Indian ways and wiles. It was in his second
campaign, when, after returning home for the winter, he had re-enlisted
and was again amid the scenes of his former adventures. He was stationed
at Fort Edward, the region immediately around which was infested with
savages bent on securing as many scalps as possible with the least
exposure. The sentinels on posts without the fort were in the greatest
danger, and there was one outpost in particular which had lost so many
of its sentries that at last no man could be found to accept a station
there voluntarily. One after another they had disappeared, as completely
as though the earth had opened and swallowed them. It was a post of such
danger that the officers at Fort Edward, having called for volunteers
repeatedly, all of whom had met the same mysterious fate, were compelled
to resort to drafting the men for duty there. As a commissioned officer
Putnam was exempt from the draft, but with his love of danger and from a
desire to penetrate the mystery, he volunteered for the hazardous
service for at least one night. His offer was accepted, although his
friends warned him of the risk he ran. He was already informed as to the
general instructions: on hearing the least noise to challenge promptly,
"Who goes there?" three times, and then, if no answer were returned, to
fire at whatever approached.
Mounting guard at his post as early as possible, Putnam took occasion to
make a thorough examination of the nature of his environment, with a
trained woodsman's eye noting every peculiarity of rock, stump, bush,
tree, and leaf. Even then, as darkness fell and the scene became faintly
illumined by the rising moon, his surroundings assumed an unfamiliar
cast.
He stood at his post till past midnight before anything unusual
happened, then his attention was attracted by what appeared to him a
wild hog which, with stealthy footstep, gradually neared his position.
There could be no danger in such a beast, any one less acute than he
might have reasoned; but anyway, he issued the challenge, and then, no
response having been made to his "Who goes there?" he immediately fired
at the animal. It was a groan, and not a grunt, that answered his
well-directed shot, and going up to the object, then writhing in its
death-struggles, he stripped off a bear-skin and revealed an immense
Indian, who had in this disguise approached the unsuspicious sentinels
previously stationed there, stabbed them, and carried them away.