: "Do you want
to go out now, while it is dark and rainy?" he asked. "No," the
spokesman rejoined. "Then," continued Stark, "if the Lord should give us
sunshine once more, and I do not give you fighting enough, I will never
ask you to turn out again."

[Sidenote: Aug. 16.]

The day broke clear and pleasant. Both parties prepared for the coming
battle. Stark had the most men, but Baum the advantage of fighting
behind intrenchments, and of having artillery, while Stark had none.

At midday, Stark formed his men for the attack. All were yeomanry, in
homespun, rudely equipped with pouches and powder-horns, and armed with
the old brown firelocks, without bayonets, they had brought from their
homes. Some had served in the preceding campaign, but not one in fifty
had ever fired a shot in anger; while many were mere lads, in whom
enthusiasm for their leader and cause supplied the want of experience.
The work now required of them was such as only veterans were thought
capable of doing. They were to storm intrenchments, defended by the
trained soldiers of Europe; yet not a man flinched when Stark, with a
soldier's bluntness and fire, pointed his sword toward the enemy's
redoubt and exclaimed, "There, my lads, are the Hessians! To-night our
flag floats over yonder hill, or Molly Stark is a widow!"

His men answered with loud cheers, grasped their weapons, and demanded
to be led against the enemy. Stark then gave the wished-for order to
march.

Meanwhile, dismay reigned in Bennington. Every man who could load a
musket had gone out to fight with Stark. Their household goods had been
loaded upon wagons, ready to move off in case the day went against them.
Their wives and little ones stood hand in hand along the village street,
throughout that long summer afternoon, listening to the peal of cannon
and musketry, in fear for those who had gone forth to the battle, and
expecting the moment that was to make them homeless wanderers.

The story of the battle is soon told. Stark so divided his force as to
attack the enemy in front, flank, and rear, at once. The nature of the
ground was such as to hide the march of the several detachments from
Baum's view, but he had no other idea than to keep close in his
intrenchments.

At three in the afternoon, firing began in Baum's rear. This was the
signal that the several attacking columns had reached their allotted
stations. All the Americans then rushed on to the assault. Baum found
himself