and north. He crowded into a few hours actions that would have given lustre to length of life; and, filling his day with greatness, completed it before its noon.

XVI.

BUNKER'S HILL.

BANCROFT.

[The victory was followed by a peace, in which France withdrew from every part of America save the mouth of the Mississippi, and the great continent was left to the possession of Englishmen. But the triumph was soon followed by a terrible struggle. The English colonies felt that the time was come when they could govern themselves; while England unwisely resolved to hold them under her rule. War broke out; and the British soldiers at first made light of the untrained volunteers from the colonies. But the Americans soon showed that they too were of English blood and English courage; and, advancing to besiege Boston, they encountered a sally of the British army from that town on the heights of Bunker's Hill. They succeeded in repulsing it; and from that moment it became impossible to conquer America.]

Of the two columns which were put in motion,1 the one was led by Pigot against the redoubt; the other by Howe himself against the flank, which seemed protected by nothing but a fence of rails and hay easy to be scrambled over, when the left of Prescott 3 would be turned, and he would be forced to surrender on finding the enemy in his

rear.

1 The British columns, who were attacking the entrenchments of the colonists on Bunker's Hill. 2 General Howe commanded the British forces. 3 The commander of the Americans on Bunker's Hill.

As they began to march, the dazzling lustre of a summer's sun was reflected from their burnished armour; the battery on Copp's Hill, from which Clinton and Burgoyne were watching every movement, kept up an incessant fire, which was seconded by the Falcon and the Lively, the Somerset, and the two floating batteries; the town of Charlestown, consisting of five hundred edifices of wood, burst into a blaze; and the steeple of its only church became a pyramid of fire. All the while the masts of the shipping, and the heights of the British camp, the church towers, the house-tops of a populous town,5 and the acclivities of the surrounding country were crowded with spectators, to watch the battle which was to take place, in full sight on a conspicuous eminence; and which, as the English thought, was to assure the integrity of the British empire; as the Americans believed, was to influence the freedom and happiness of mankind.

As soon as Prescott perceived that the enemy were in motion, he commanded Robinson, his Lieutenant-Colonel, the same who conducted himself so bravely in the fight at Concord, and Henry Woods, his Major, famed in the villages of Middlesex for ability and patriotism, with separate detachments to flank the enemy; and they executed his orders with prudence and daring. He then went through. the works to encourage and animate his inexperienced soldiers. "The red-coats will never reach the redoubt," such were his words, as he himself used to narrate them, "if you will but withhold your fire till I give the order, and be careful not to shoot over their heads." After this round, he took his post in the redoubt, well satisfied that the men would do their duty.

The British advanced in line in good order, steadily and slowly, and with a confident, imposing air, pausing on the

march to let their artillery prepare the way, and firing with muskets as they advanced. But they fired too soon and too high, doing but little injury.

Incumbered with their knapsacks, they ascended the steep hill with difficulty, covered as it was with grass reaching to their knees, and intersected with walls and fences. Prescott waited till the enemy had approached within eight rods as he afterwards thought, within ten or twelve rods as the committee of safety of Massachusetts wrote, when he gave the word "Fire!" At once, from the redoubt and breastwork, every gun was discharged. Nearly the whole front rank of the enemy fell, and the rest, to whom this determined resistance was unexpected, were brought to a stand. For a few minutes, fifteen or ten,-who can count such minutes-each one of the Americans, completely covered whilst he loaded his musket, exposed only while he stood upon the wooden platform or steps of earth in the redoubt to take aim, fought according to his own judgment and will; and a close and unremitting fire was continued and returned, till the British staggered, wavered, and then in disordered masses retreated precipitately to the foot of the hill, and some even to their boats.

The column of the enemy, which advanced near the Mystic under the lead of Howe, moved gallantly forward against the rail-fence, and, when within eighty or one hundred yards, displayed into line with the precision of troops on parade. Here, too, the Americans, commanded by Stark and Knowlton, cheered on by Putnam, who like Prescott bade them reserve their fire, restrained themselves as if by universal consent, till at the proper moment, resting their guns on the rails of the fence, they poured forth a deliberate, well-directed, fatal discharge; here, too, the British recoiled from the volley, and after a short contest

were thrown into confusion, sounded a retreat, and fell back till they were covered by the ground.

Then followed moments of joy in that unfinished redoubt, and behind the grassy rampart, where New England husbandmen, so often taunted with cowardice, beheld veteran battalions shrink before their arms. Their hearts bounded as they congratulated each other. The nightwatches, thirst, hunger, danger, whether of captivity or death, were forgotten. They promised themselves victory.

As the British soldiers retreated, the officers were seen by the spectators on the opposite shore, running down to them, using passionate gestures, and pushing them forward with their swords. After an interval of about fifteen minutes, during which Prescott moved round among his men, encouraging them and cheering them with praise, the British column under Pigot rallied and advanced, though with apparent reluctance, in the same order as before, firing as they approached within musket-shot. This time the Americans withheld their fire till the enemy were within six or five rods of the redoubt, when, as the order was given, it seemed more fatal than before. The enemy continued to discharge their guns, and pressed forward with spirit. "But from the whole American line there was," said Prescott, "a continuous stream of fire ;" and though the British officers exposed themselves fearlessly, remonstrating, threatening, and even striking the soldiers to urge them on, they could not reach the redoubt, but in a few moments gave way in greater disorder than before. The wounded and the dead covered the ground in front of the works, some lying within a few yards of them.

On the flank also, the British light infantry again marched up its companies against the grass fence, but could not penetrate it. "Indeed," wrote some of the survivors, "how could we penetrate it? Most of our grenadiers and light

infantry, the moment of presenting themselves, lost threefourths, and many nine-tenths of their men. Some had only eight or nine men in a company left, some only three, four, or five." On the ground where but the day before the mowers had swung the scythe in peace, "the dead," relates Stark, "lay as thick as sheep in a fold." Howe for a few seconds was left nearly alone, so many of the officers about him having been killed or wounded; and it required the utmost exertion of all, from the generals down to the subalterns, to repair the rout. Rails which the British had clambered over were found the next day studded with marks of musket-balls not a hand's-breadth apart; and officers, who had served in the most remarkable actions of the last war, declared that for the time it lasted it was the hottest engagement they ever knew.

At intervals, the artillery from the ships and batteries was playing, while the flames were rising over the town of Charlestown, and laying waste the places of the graves of its fathers, and streets were falling together, and ships at the yards were crashing on the stocks, and the kindred of the Americans, from the fields and hills and house-tops around, watched every gallant act of their defenders.

XVII

WATT.

SMILES.

[The colonies at last succeeded in forcing England to recognise their independence, and became the United States of America. Terrible as the struggle had been, England had been growing richer and greater during its course, through the vast developement of her industries. This was owing partly to the improvement of her roads