dragoons and infantry preparing to make a charge, and Old Put. knew
there wouldn't be much chance of our withstanding the shock. So he
ordered us to retire into the swamp just back of our position, where we
would be safe from dragoons, at least, and where we would have an even
chance with the infantry. I expected to see the general follow us; but
he turned his horse towards the stone steps that led down the rocks from
the meeting-house. As we fell back I had time to observe him. When he
reached the head of the steps, the horse stopped as if afraid of the
attempt. But Old Putnam knew there was no time to lose, as the dragoons
were nearly upon him. So he struck his spurs into the horse's sides, and
they plunged down the steps together. I lost sight of the horse and
rider just then; but saw the red-coat dragoons stop short at the head of
the precipice, and fire their pistols after them. Not one among the
red-coats dared to follow, and ten chances to one if they had attempted
it, they would have broken their necks; for the precipice was so high
and steep as to have one hundred steps cut in it. Before they could get
round the brow of the height by the ordinary road, the General was far
beyond their reach. Tryon didn't attempt to follow us into the swamp,
but soon after commenced his retreat. We fell back to Stamford, where we
met the General with some militia he had collected, and marched back in
search of Tryon. The red-coats had completed their work and were out of
our reach."

"That ride was but one of a whole life of such deeds," said Kinnison.
"There never was a man who dared more than Putnam. In the old French
War, he astonished the boldest savages and rangers by his feats, often
throwing himself into the arms of death, as it were, and escaping
without any serious hurt."

"It was a great pity," said Colson, "that Putnam was not a younger man