now much noise of officers galloping about, dragoons
riding from their quarters, and rattling of gun-carriages. The booming
from the batteries and vessels increased.

At half-past eleven Harry found himself--for he was scarcely master of
his acts that morning, his will having taken refuge in a kind of
dormancy--on parade with two companies of his regiment, and he noticed
in a dim way that other companies near were from other different
regiments, all being supplied with ammunition, blankets, and
provisions. When the sun was directly overhead and at its hottest, the
order to march was given, and soon he was bearing the colors through
the streets of Boston. The roar of the cannon now became deafening.
Harry knew not whether the rebels were returning it from their hill
works across the water or not. In time the troops reached the wharf.
Barges were in waiting, and field-pieces were being moved into some of
them. He could see now that all the firing was from the King's vessels
and batteries. Mechanically he followed Lieutenant Dalrymple into a
barge, which soon filled up with troops. The other barges were
speedily brilliant with scarlet coats and glistening bayonets. Not far
away the river was covered with smoke, through which flashed the fire
of the belching artillery. A blue flag was waved from General Howe's
barge, and the fleet moved across the river towards the hill where the
rebels waited silently behind their piles of earth.

At one o'clock, Harry followed Lieutenant Dalrymple out of the barge
to the northern shore of the river, at a point northeast of
Charlestown village and east of the Yankees' hill. There was no
molestation from the rebels. The firing from the vessels and batteries
protected the hillside and shore. The troops were promptly formed in
three lines. Harry's place was in the left of the front line. Then
there was long waiting. The barges went back to the Boston side. Was
General Howe, who had command of the movements, sending for more
troops? Many of the soldiers ate of their stock of provisions. Harry,
in a kind of dream, looked westward up the hill towards the silent
Yankee redoubt. It faced south, west, and east. The line of its
eastern side was continued northward by a breastwork, and still beyond
this, down the northern hillside to another river, ran a straggling
rail fence, which was thatched with fresh-cut hay. What were the men
doing behind those defences? What were they saying and thinking?