40. The batteries, which had been covering the advancing columns,
ceased as they neared the summit. An ominous silence succeeded the
tumult of the preceding hours. No sound is heard but the short, quick
words of command in the British ranks, and the steady tread of the
marching files. The space had diminished to a few rods, and still a
grave-like silence wrapped the redoubt. At the last moment had the
hearts of the patriots failed? Did the near approach of the red-coats
deprive them of their courage? By the double-quick, forward march!"
rang out from the British lines. A sudden rush, and one deafening
volley! Was it lightning from heaven that struck down every man in
their first rank? Was it the earthquake's shock that left those long
lines of dead heaped like grass before the mower's scythe? The rear
ranks, paralyzed by the terrible disaster, held their ground, but no
human courage could withstand the fire that blazed fierce and
merciless from the redoubt. A moment's pause, and then a wild,
headlong flight to the sheltering boats on the shore.
41. As shouts of triumph went up from thousands of sympathizing
hearts, the contending forces were in a state of intense activity.
Within the breastworks Prescott, cool, deliberate, masterful, watched
every detail and directed every action. Warren, Stark, and Pomeroy put
soul into every movement.
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