Old Put at once accepted the reproof as
intended, for it was well known that in moments of excitement, when
carried away by the furore of battle, he had often used words which he
would not care to review in print. He detested a coward, and when he met
one in retreat he did not hesitate to employ strong language in
expressing his opinion. At Horseneck, declared the only witness of his
reckless ride down the hill, "Old Put was cursing the British terribly."
There was no evading his friend's pointed remarks, so the honest old man
rose from his seat and "confessed the failing which he had finally
overcome"; but he added, with a twinkle in his eye, "it was enough to
make an angel swear at Bunker Hill to see the rascals run away from the
British!"[4]
[Footnote 4: Livingston's Life of Israel Putnam. An exhaustive work, by
a conscientious and painstaking author.]
In this respect he was no worse than his former Commander-in-Chief,
though he may have been oftener culpable, being so much more excitable
than the phlegmatic Washington.
The final summons came on Saturday, the twenty-ninth of May, 1790, when,
in a lower room of the house he had built nearly fifty years before, the
battle-scarred warrior, life's fitful fever ended, passed peacefully
away to his rest.
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