Bunker Hill, at the time of the siege of Boston, was a familiar place, but Breed's Hill was not so well known.

The surface of the latter was divided into tracts used as pastures; and these were called after their separate owners. There was Russell's pasture, and Breed's pasture, further south, while Green's was at the head of what is now Green Street.

The east and west sides of the hill were very steep. At the east base were brick kilns, clay pits and much marshland.

At the top of Breed's Hill the men, at the command of their officers, threw down their packs, stacked arms and stood ready. In the dim light of the masked lanterns held by Ezra and his comrades, Colonel Gridley marked out the lines of the works; the tool carts came up, the tools were distributed and the men set to work. And as this began, Colonel Prescott ordered a guard, under Captain Maxwell of his own regiment, to patrol the sh.o.r.e of the lower part of the town near the old ferry.

"We must know what the enemy is about," Ezra heard the colonel say to Colonel Gridley. "His movements are most interesting to us to-night."

So near were they to the sentry-belted town of Boston that they could hear, now and then, the cry of the guard at Copp's Hill battery. Also the sounds from the war-ships were carried to them on the quiet wind.

"Their vessels command our position very well," said Colonel Gridley, as they stood looking out across the starlit waters. "That is the 'Falcon,'

there off Moulton's Point. The 'Somerset' is at the ferry, and that ship near to Craigie's Bridge is the 'Glasgow.' The 'Cerberus' and some floating batteries are yonder where you see that tangle of lights."

"It will be a surprise to me if our work is not suspected before daylight," said Prescott. "However, the men are accustomed to handling their tools, and may carry it through unnoticed."

And that is what happened. Diligently the thousand patriots cut into the earth. Perfect silence was maintained; and every little while the a.s.suring cry that "All's well" came from Maxwell's patrol down along the water's edge.

When dawn finally broke on that seventeenth of June, the works were about six feet in height, and the men were still laboring away on them with a will. The entrenchments were first discovered by the watch upon the twenty-gun vessel "Lively." Captain Bishop, her commander, did not wait for orders, but put a spring in her cable and at once opened fire.

The roar of the "Lively's" guns awoke the British camp, and soon all Boston was a.s.sembled, staring in wonderment at the fortifications which a night had caused to arise upon Breed's Hill.

A little later a battery of six guns at Copp's Hill took up the firing, and soon the heavier vessels joined in.

A cannon-shot finally killed a man laboring on the platforms behind the breastworks. At once the faces of his comrades went pale at the sight; but Colonel Prescott, who happened to be close at hand, stepped upon the parapet and leisurely paced around, examining it and speaking to the officers. Noticing his intentions, Ezra Prentiss and Nat Brewster, who were with him, awaiting his commands, did likewise. And seeing these three calmly ignoring the British fire, the raw soldiers took heart; indeed a little later they took to greeting each shot with shouts of derision.

The sun came well up and the heat became oppressive. Some of the men, unaccustomed to warfare, had neglected to bring provisions, as ordered.

Suffering for want of food and drink, they began to murmur.

Some of the officers became alarmed.

"We had better send word to General Ward at once, to relieve them with other troops," said he. "In a little while they will be beyond control."

"I will never consent to these men being relieved," said Prescott, promptly. "They have raised the works and are the best able to defend them. They have suffered the labor, so let them have the honor of the fight."

Ezra stood with Ben and George a little later upon the slope of the hill nearest the water; he had been gazing across toward the city, and finally said:

"There seems to be some sort of a movement in Boston. Governor Gage has probably thought it high time to act."

In this he was correct. Gage, after a council of war, in which his plans had been objected to by General Clinton, had finally issued the orders that brought the climax of the day. Artillery was wheeled into array, foot-soldiers and dragoons paraded in all the bravery of their uniforms and colors.

Ten companies of British grenadiers and light infantry and the Fifth and Thirty-eighth regiments, with ammunition and supplies, were ordered to the Long Wharf. The Fifty-second and Forty-third regiments, together with the remaining companies of grenadiers and light infantry, were ordered to the North Battery. Other troops were held in readiness to march at a moment's notice.

At the earnest request of his officers, Colonel Prescott dispatched Major Brooks to Cambridge to General Ward for reinforcements. This officer reached headquarters about ten o'clock, and after much discussion, the regiments of Colonel Stark and Colonel Reed, both of New Hampshire, were sent to the aid of those upon the hill.

When, at last, the men at work upon the fortifications were exhausted by the toil and the heat, General Putnam had a large force of men gather up the tools, fall back with them to Bunker Hill and there begin a second line of works.

"We don't expect to be beaten," said that seasoned officer, "but in a battle no one knows just what will happen; so it's best to have something to fall back on."

It was about twelve o'clock noon, when Ezra Prentiss' keen eyes detected the first of the British march to the boats.

"Here they come," he shouted to Ben Cooper, who was some little distance away. "We'll need the rifles now."

All of them, the Porcupine included, carried rifles strapped upon their backs; and their pouches were stuffed with ammunition. So now they proceeded to get them ready. Locks were examined; old charges were withdrawn and fresh ones rammed down. With Prescott's permission they selected stations at the end of a line of riflemen whose position promised at least a fair share of action.

The Porcupine, as he stood leaning upon his rifle, the barrel of which towered above his head, excited much laughter among the men. But he grinned good-naturedly and smoothed down his stiff crest of hair.

"Laugh away," said he, "if it'll do you any good. I don't mind it. But remember, it won't take inches to shoot straight. You'll find the British dodging the bullets I send them, as nimbly as they do those of the tallest of you."

A laugh and the clapping of hands down the line greeted this.

"Truly spoken," said a huge farmer-like fellow who had performed prodigies in the entrenching, "and aptly said, too. Pointed properly, his bullet will lift a lieutenant-general out of his saddle, and more than that you can't say for any of us."

As the British began preparing to embark, two more ships of war moved up the Charles River to join the others in firing upon the American works.

The roar of the cannonade was tremendous; the yellow smoke at times almost obscured the sun. The "Falcon" and "Lively" were sweeping the low ground at the foot of Breed's Hill to dislodge parties that might have been sent by Prescott to prevent a landing. And as General Howe, who was in command of the attack, with Brigadier-General Pigot under him, embarked, the "Glasgow" frigate and "Symmetry" transport began raking Charlestown Neck to prevent the crossing of any further American reinforcements.

As the signal, the hoisting of a blue flag, was given, the British host began to advance across the river, their artillery in the leading barges. A breeze drove the smoke to the northward, and the lads, as they stood in the redoubt, had a clear view of the crossing. And Ezra, as he looked, drew in a deep breath.

"If splendor of appearance ever wins battles, surely this detachment will be the winner today," he said.

"But it never does," said Gilbert Scarlett, a rifle in the hollow of his arm. "Accurate firing, steadiness and the resolve to stick to it until the very last shot, is what brings victory."

The brilliant scarlet coats, the white cross belts, the gleam of the rifle barrels and bra.s.s guns formed a most dazzling and impressive sight. And the boats came with the regularity of machinery; the heavy frigates and brisker gunboats covered their advance with a continuous thunder of guns.

The Americans did little to halt the British progress. The time for action, as their wise commanders had decided, had not yet arrived.

"And they are right," commented Gilbert Scarlett. "Our cannon are few and of light weight, and to fire on the shipping would be waste of powder." Even the troop-barges, he pointed out, were difficult to hit, up to the moment of their landing.

This latter occurred just one hour after the start, and Moulton's Point was the place selected. Not a shot was fired at the British force as they left their boats, and they immediately formed in orderly array.

There was a long halt. General Howe, after examining the American works, seemed to think very well of them, for he at once sent back across the river a demand for reinforcements. And while these were being sent the British officers, with the nonchalance that experience brings, very quietly dined.

Prescott and Putnam and their force lay stubbornly behind the earthworks waiting for the foe to make the first move. But beyond, at Cambridge, all was excitement and uproar. Bells clashed and swung in the church towers, drums beat to arms, and guns roared their warning that the British had crossed in force.

There was no need now for General Ward to withhold the regiments still under his command; all along he had been afraid to send too many men to Breed's Hill, thinking that the attack might be leveled at Cambridge.

Now he reserved but Patterson's, Gardener's and part of Bridge's regiments to protect the town; the remainder of the Ma.s.sachusetts force and what was left of Putnam's Connecticut men were hurried forward to the point of attack.

Dr. Warren appeared at the earthworks at this time and was greeted with cheers. The men were exhausted and hungry, and for a time had been inclined to suspect the good faith of their officers. But now with such men as Warren, Putnam, Prescott and, later, General Pomeroy, plain in their sight, they were quiet and patient enough.

At about two o'clock the British began a movement along the Mystic River with the intention of flanking the Americans and surrounding the redoubt. Putnam at once ordered two pieces of artillery, and Captain Knowlton with the Connecticut troops, to leave the entrenchments, descend the hill and oppose the enemy's right wing.

While Knowlton was carrying out this command, Colonel Stark with his New Hampshire men began the crossing of Charlestown Neck. The guns of the "Glasgow" were trained upon them; sh.e.l.ls screamed through the air; solid shot ripped great seams in the earth.

In the heart of the regiment a single drum tapped with regular beat; the men marched to this calmly, their long rifles over their shoulders. Now and then a shot tore through them, but they never hurried their pace.

Stark's grim face was set like stone; it seemed as though he scarcely cast a look at the thundering ship of war. The command continued to swing slowly along to the tap of the drum. When part way over Captain Dearborn spoke to the colonel apprehensively:

"We are moving very slowly. Wouldn't it be well to sound the double quick?"