Many British were wounded, and many killed, along this part of Battle Road. A little way from the bluff, over the wall on the opposite side of the road and in a southerly direction, are graves of two. No memorial stone marks the exact spot, and even the mounds, too, have long since dissolved away.[240]
The contending forces were now climbing Fiske Hill, about sixty feet higher than the bluff.[241] The road at that time passed higher up than at present, and near the summit fighting was more severe again. One Briton, at least, fell there and was buried in the little strip of ground between the old and new road. A heap of small stones once marked the spot, but they have disappeared.[242]
Down the easterly slope of Fiske Hill stands a modest little farmhouse, on the southerly side of the road. It was then the home of Benjamin Fiske. The entire family had fled, and the stragglers from the British columns entered for pillage. One in his greed stayed too long. Brave James Hayward of Acton, willing to fight though exempt from military service because of a partially dismembered foot, met him at the door, laden with booty. The Briton recognized in Hayward an enemy, and raising his gun, exclaimed,
"And so are you," responded Hayward as he raised his gun also. Both fired--both fell, the British instantly killed and Hayward mortally wounded, the ball piercing his bullet-pouch and entering his side. He lived eight hours and was conscious to the last. Calling for his powder horn and bullet-pouch, he remarked that he started with one pound of powder and forty bullets. A very little powder and two or three balls were all that were left.
"You see what I have been about," he exclaimed, calling attention to the slight remainder. "I am not sorry; I die willingly for my country."[243] And so Concord and Lexington, too, reverently treasure the memory of brave Acton men, whose life blood stained the soil of each.
Up the westerly slope of Concord Hill, an elevation named after her sister town, marched the British. Their ranks were broken and disordered. Many had been wounded, many had been killed, and many had fallen exhausted by the wayside. It was then about half past one o'clock, and they had marched rather more than twenty-three miles. At that time their ammunition began to give out, which added to their discomfiture. Their enemies seemed to be countless and everywhere. De Bernicre, the spy, who was with them, has left a vivid word picture of how anxious they were getting. "There could not be less than 5,000," he says in his account, "so they kept the road always lined, and a very hot fire on us without intermission.... We began to run rather than retreat in order." Lieut.-Col. Smith, says, in his report, that the firing on his troops, which began in Concord, "increased to a very great degree and continued without the intermission of five minutes, altogether for I believe upwards of eighteen miles."