But some of the British officers strongly advised against another attack.
“It will be little less than butchery to lead the men upon that position again,” they said.
But Howe thought otherwise. He sternly commanded that the men be put into a soldier-like formation; then with the crafty help of Clinton, he began to plan the third attack.
The British commander had, by this time, learned to respect the colonials.
“They told me that I had a rabble of peasants to fight,” said he to Clinton. “If it’s so, then there are the makings of fine troops among those villains on the hill.”
In the forming of his last attack Howe had no doubt the sound advice of General Clinton; for it was better thought out and delivered with more wisdom than the others.
The rank and file were now commanded to lay aside their heavy knapsacks. They had been burdened with these and other useless pieces of equipment during the entire afternoon, and this, perhaps, had had its effect in breaking their courage. Then they were formed into columns.
“Rely upon the steel,” Howe commanded them. “Reserve your fire until you get within a dozen paces of them. They shall see that we, too, can fight after that fashion.”
This attack was directed upon the redoubt above; only a sham advance was made against the rail fence, in order that Stark and Knowlton’s men be forced to hold their position, and so not be able to come to the aid of Prescott’s. Also the British artillery was now supplied with proper shot, and was wheeled forward to rake the breastworks.
As the British came on, Ezra Prentiss regarded their compact columns with an anxious eye. He had had but little experience in warfare; but something told him that there was a task coming much more formidable than what had gone before.