"Do you, dear child? Very well, I'll try to gratify you.
"When Prescott saw the red-coats moving toward his redoubt he ordered two separate detachments to flank the enemy, then went through his works encouraging his men, to whom this was an entirely new experience. 'The red-coats will never reach the redoubt,' he said, 'if you will but withhold your fire till I give the order; and be careful not to shoot over their heads.' Then he waited till the enemy had come within a few rods, when waving his sword over his head he gave the word, 'Fire!'
"Every gun was instantly discharged, and nearly the whole of the front rank fell; the rest, astonished at this unexpected resistance, stood still. Then for some minutes the fire of the Americans continued, answered by the British, till at last they staggered, wavered, then fled down the hill toward their boats.
"Howe had been treated to a like reception by Stark's and Knowlton's troops, cheered on by Putnam who, like Prescott, bade them reserve their fire till the best moment, when they poured in one as deadly and destructive as that which came from Prescott's redoubt."
"Wasn't Prescott's order to his men to reserve their fire till they could see the whites of the British soldier's eyes?" queried Violet.
"Yes, so Lossing tells us; and that he added, 'Then aim at their waistbands; and be sure to pick off the commanders, known by their handsome coats.'
"His men were filled with joy when they saw the British fly, and wanted to pursue them, some even leaping the fence; but their more prudent officers restrained them, and in a few minutes they were all within their works again, and ready to receive and repulse a second attack.
"Colonel Prescott praised and encouraged them while Putnam rode over to Bunker Hill to urge on reinforcement; but 'few additional troops could be brought to Breed's Hill before the second attack was made.' Before that the British were reinforced by four hundred marines from Boston, then they moved against the redoubt in the same order as at first, their artillery doing more damage to the Americans than in the first assault."
"Papa," asked Gracie, "what had become of the wounded men they'd left lying on the ground?—those the Americans shot down at their first fire over the redoubt?"
"They were still lying there on the ground where they had fallen, poor fellows! and the others marched over them. Ah, war is a dreadful thing, and those who forced it upon the patient, long-suffering Americans were either very thoughtless or exceeding cruel."