impressiveness of the scene, it was about this time
that Charlestown, set on fire a little while before, that it should not
give cover to the Americans, and that the smoke should confuse the
rebels, burst into general conflagration. The town had been for weeks
almost deserted, in dread of this fate; now at the command of Howe
red-hot shot were thrown in among the houses, and marines landed from
the ships and fired the wharves and waterside buildings. The act was,
however, a wanton one, for no advantage was gained or lost to either
side by the fire.[98]

At last the troops were near enough. They had themselves been firing
for some time, volleying as they advanced, but firing too high. Now, as
they reached a line some eight or ten rods from the redoubt, Prescott
gave the word to fire, and to continue firing. The discharge from the
redoubt was close, deadly, and incessant, while at the rail fence the
reception of the British was even more fatal. For a few minutes the
regulars held their ground, returning the fire as best they might, yet
decimated by the American bullets, and seeing their officers falling all
about them. There was no hope to advance, and sullenly they withdrew.

If ever there was a moment that marked the fate of our nation, it was
that one. It forecast Bennington, Saratoga, and Yorktown, Gettysburg and
the Wilderness. Well might the provincials exult as they saw the retreat
of the regulars; and well might Washington exclaim, when he learned that
the farmers had driven the British, "Then the liberties of the country
are safe!"[99]

But the battle was not yet won. The slaughter among the officers was
frightful, yet the leaders were uninjured. Howe gave the order, the
troops formed again, and again advanced to the attack. The Americans
admired them as they approached, preserving unbroken order, and stepping
over the bodies of the slain as if they had been logs of wood. This time
the troops were allowed to come nearer yet, but when the provincials
fired at the word the carnage was greater than before. In the smoke the
officers were seen urging their men, striking them with their sword
hilts, and even pricking them with the points. But it was in vain. The
officers themselves were shot down in unheard-of proportion, and at the
rail fence those who survived out of full companies of thirty-nine were
in some cases only three, or four, or five. Nothing could be done under
such a fire. Leaving their dead within a f