My Native Land. James Cox

      The British detachment was beaten back in disorder, but the main body was too strong to be attacked. The minute men, however, made a most magnificent fight, and at the close of the day they had killed 273 British soldiers, only 93 of their own number being among the killed or missing.

      Thus commenced the War of Independence, the event being described by Dr. Joseph Warren in a document of sufficient interest to warrant its reproduction in full.

      "The barbarous murders committed on our innocent brethren," wrote the doctor, "have made it absolutely necessary that we immediately raise an army to defend our wives and our children from the butchering hands of an inhuman soldiery, who, incensed at the obstacles they met with in their bloody progress, and enraged at being repulsed from the field of slaughter, will, without the least doubt, take the first opportunity in their power to ravage this devoted country with fire and sword. We conjure you, therefore, by all that is dear, by all that is sacred, that you give all assistance possible in forming an army. Our all is at stake. Death and devastation are the instant consequences of delay. Every moment is infinitely precious. An hour lost may deluge our country in blood, and entail perpetual slavery upon the few of your posterity who may survive the carnage. We beg and entreat, as you will answer to your country, to your own consciences, and, above all, as you will answer to God himself, that you will hasten and encourage, by all possible means, the enlistment of men to form an army, and send them forward to headquarters at Cambridge, with that expedition which the vast importance and instant urgency of the affair demand."

      Two days after the fight, the Massachusetts Committee of Safety resolved to enlist 8,000 men, an event which our old friend Liberty Bell celebrated by a vigorous tolling. All over the colonies a spirit of determination to resist spread like lightning, and the shot that was heard around the world was certainly heard very distinctly in every nook and corner of New England, and of the old Atlantic States. Naturally, there was at first a lack of concentration and even of discipline; but what was lacking in these features was more than made up for by bravery and determination. As John Adams wrote in 1818, the army at Cambridge at this time was not a National army, for there was no nation. It was not even an army of the United Colonies, because the Congress at Philadelphia had not adopted or acknowledged the army at Cambridge. It was not even the New England army, for each State had its separate armies, which had united to imprison the British army in Boston. There was not even the Commander-in-Chief of the allied armies.

      These anomalies, of course, righted themselves rapidly. Gage's proclamation of martial law expedited the battle at Bunker Hill, which was brought about by the impatience of the British troops, and by the increased confidence among the colonists, resulting from the fights at Lexington and Concord. It is true, of course, that the untrained American troops failed to vanquish the British army at Bunker Hill, but the monument at that spot celebrates the fact that for two hours the attacks of the regulars were withstood. A prominent English newspaper described the battle as one of innumerable errors on the part of the British. As William Tudor wrote so graphically, "The Ministerial troops gained the hill, but were victorious losers. A few more such victories and they are undone." Many writers have been credited with the authorship of a similar sentiment, written from the American standpoint. "It is true that we were beaten, but it will not take many such defeats to accomplish a magnificent victory."

      What began to be known as the great American army increased in strength. It was adopted by Congress, and George Washington placed in command. Under the historic elm tree at Cambridge, Mass., which was the scene of so many important councils in the first hours of the life of the United States, he assumed the authority bestowed upon him with this office, and a week later he held a council with his officers. He found some 17,000 men at his command, whom he described as a mixed multitude of people under very little discipline.

      William Emerson, grandfather of the great poet, in a soliloquy on the strange turn events had taken, said "Who would have thought, twelve months past, that all Cambridge and Charleston would be covered over with American camps and cut up into forts and entrenchments, and all the lands, fields and orchards laid common, with horses and cattle feeding on the choicest mowing land, and large parks of well-regulated locusts cut down for firewood. This, I must say, looks a little melancholy. It is very diverting to walk among the camps. They are as different in their look as the owners are in their dress, and every tent is a portraiture of the temper and tastes of the persons who encamp in it. Some are made of boards and some of sailcloth; some partly of one and some partly of the other; again, others are made of stone and turf, brick or brush. Some are thrown up in a hurry, others curiously wrought with doors and windows, done with wreaths and withes, in the manner of a basket. Some are proper tents, looking like the regular camp of the enemy. In these are the Rhode Islanders, who are furnished with tent equipages and everything in the most exact English style. However, I think this great variety is rather a beauty than a blemish in the army."

      As was to be expected, there was more or less of a lack of harmony and unity among the companies of men collected together to form an army to fight for liberty. History tells us that there was even a little jealousy between the four New England colonies. There was also a good deal of distrust of Washington. It was argued that at least one-third of the class from which he came had Tory and Royalist inclinations, and what guarantee had they that Washington was not one of their number? Washington himself found that those who styled themselves in old country parlance "The Gentry," were loyal to King George rather than to the colonies, and while his own men were inclined, at times, to doubt the sincerity of the Father of his Country, the very men with whom he was suspected of being in sympathy were denouncing him with vigor.

      Washington, to his lasting credit be it said, was indifferent both to praise and censure. Seeing that discipline was the one thing needful, he commenced to enforce it with an iron hand. He declined any remuneration, and gave his services freely to the cause. He found himself short of ammunition, and several times he lost a number of his men. In the spring of 1776, Washington went to New York with his Continental army. Here he found new difficulties,