until the British
troops had landed in Charlestown
and, marching up, had nearly reached the breastworks.
All through the desperate fighting that followed the first attack, the tall and stalwart form of Harry Bond
was conspicuous, first here and then there, exposing himself fearlessly.
Step by step the patriots were obliged to retreat, stubbornly contesting the way, fighting with clubbed muskets when their ammunition had become exhausted.
In the midst of the last ranks to leave the hill, Harry could be seen waving aloft the colonial flag, which he had snatched from the hands of the color-bearer who had fallen, when he was shot dead by a British grenadier.
His body was brought away by some of his friends who had witnessed his death.
A few days after his remains were interred in the old Cross-street cemetery, where they fill a patriot's grave.
The old blacksmith shop has disappeared; other industries of a like character occupy its site.
The old Royall House, once the nursery of Tory schemes, still stands.
The slave quarters are there, but their sable occupants have long since departed.
sent many of its noble sons to the Revolutionary Army
, and to the War
of the Rebellion
she gave of her best blood.
The echoes of the drum and fife of the Revolution and the bugle-calls of the Rebellion
have long since died away, and we trust our goodly town may never again be called upon to sacrifice her sons in war.