But all was of no
avail. The Americans had good cause to believe the enemy had had enough;
but Putnam knew the foe and cautioned them against overconfidence. True
to his predictions, they reformed for a third charge upon the hill, led,
as before, by the gallant Howe, and this time, as the Provincials had
nearly exhausted their supply of ammunition, they were forced to
extremities.
Yet nearer than before, the British were allowed to approach, and, with
their artillery enfilading the redoubt and the breastwork with deadly
effect, the brave Provincials waited till they were within twenty yards
before they fired their last rounds into the foe. Then they clubbed
their muskets, dashed stones into the faces of the foe, fighting hand to
hand, as the British poured over the earthworks in a stream. Seeing his
forlorn position, Prescott ordered a retreat, and his men sullenly
obeyed, fighting to the last, stubbornly contesting every foot.
Down below, on the slope near the Neck, was the infuriated Putnam, doing
his utmost to urge forward the belated reenforcements. When he saw the
onpouring mass of men in retreat he was wild with rage.
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