So they gathered, the young and the old, the learned doctor and the
practical mechanic, for the defense of Freedom--a magnet that drew both
Pomeroy and Warren to that since-famous redoubt on the summit of Breed's
Hill. They offered their services to Colonel Prescott, and he gladly
accepted them, demurring as to Warren, and tendering him the command,
which was his by right of rank. But the patriot simply said, as before,
that he had come to fight as a volunteer, and at once mingled with the
men within the redoubt.
The movements of the British were slow, and mid-afternoon had arrived
before the agonizing suspense was over and they began their advance up
the hill. The eager Americans were hardly to be kept behind their
earthworks, much less restrained from firing at the advancing foe, as
the solid ranks came marching up the acclivity, ominously silent, with
deadly intent. But Putnam was with them, riding slowly up and down the
lines.
"Don't waste your powder, boys," he shouted. "Wait for orders, then fire
low, take aim at their waistbands. Aim at the handsome coats, pick off
the commanders!" They did as commanded, only a few anticipating orders,
and at the fatal command, "Fire!" the ranks in front of them melted away
like snow before the sun.
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