Revolutionary Heroes, and Other Historical Papers | Page 3

was admitted to practice.
The young doctor, tall, handsome, alert, graceful, full of energy and fire, was formed to succeed in such a community as that of Boston. His friends, when he was twenty-three years of age, had the pleasure of reading in the Boston newspaper the following notice:
"Last Thursday evening was married Dr. Joseph Warren, one of the physicians of this town, to Miss Elizabeth Hooton, only daughter of the late Mr. Richard Hooton, merchant, deceased, an accomplished young lady with a handsome fortune."
Thus launched in life and gifted as he was, it is not surprising that he should soon have attained a considerable practice. But for one circumstance he would have advanced in his profession even more rapidly than he did. When he had been but a few months married, the Stamp Act was passed, which began the long series of agitating events that ended in severing the colonies from the mother country. The wealthy society of Boston, from the earliest period down to the present hour, has always been on what is called the conservative side in politics; and it was eminently so during the troubles preceding the revolutionary war. The whole story is told in a remark made by a Boston Tory doctor in those times:
"If Warren were not a Whig," said he, "he might soon be independent and ride in his chariot."
There were, however, in Boston Whig families enough to give him plenty of business, and he was for many years their favorite physician. He attended the family of John Adams, and saved John Quincy, his son, from losing one of his fore-fingers when it was very badly fractured. Samuel Adams, who was the prime mover of the Opposition, old enough to be his father, inspired and consulted him. Gradually, as the quarrel grew warmer, Dr. Warren was drawn into the councils of the leading Whigs, and became at last almost wholly a public man. Without being rash or imprudent, he was one of the first to be ready to meet force with force, and he was always in favor of the measures which were boldest and most decisive. At his house Colonel Putnam was a guest on an interesting occasion, when he was only known for his exploits in the French war.
"The old hero, Putnam," says a Boston letter of 1774, "arrived in town on Monday, bringing with him one hundred and thirty sheep from the little parish of Brooklyn."
It was at Dr. Warren's house that the "old hero" staid, and thither flocked crowds of people to see him, and talk over the thrilling events of the time. The sheep which he brought with him were to feed the people of Boston, whose business was suspended by the closing of the port.
The presence of the British troops in Boston roused all Warren's indignation. Overhearing one day some British officers saying that the Americans would not fight, he said to a friend:
"These fellows say we will not fight. By heavens, I hope I shall die up to my knees in their blood!"
Soon after, as he was passing the public gallows on the Neck, he overheard one of a group of officers say in an insulting tone:
"Go on, Warren; you will soon come to the gallows."
The young doctor turned, walked up to the officers, and said to them quietly:
"Which of you uttered those words."
They passed on without giving any reply. He had not long to wait for a proof that his countrymen would fight. April nineteenth, 1775, word was brought to him by a special messenger of the events which had occurred on the village green at Lexington. He called to his assistant, told him to take care of his patients, mounted his horse, and rode toward the scene of action.
"Keep up a brave heart!" he cried to a friend in passing. "They have begun it. That either party can do. And we will end it. That only one can do."
Riding fast, he was soon in the thick of the mel��e, and kept so close to the point of contact that a British musket ball struck a pin out of his hair close to one of his ears. Wherever the danger was greatest there was Warren, now a soldier joining in the fight, now a surgeon binding up wounds, now a citizen cheering on his fellows. From this day he made up his mind to perform his part in the coming contest as a soldier, not as a physician, nor in any civil capacity; and accordingly on the fourteenth of June, 1775, the Massachusetts legislature elected him "second Major General of the Massachusetts army." Before he had received his commission occurred the battle of Bunker Hill, June seventeenth. He passed the night previous in public service, for he was President of the Provincial Congress, but, on the