At three in the afternoon Nichols had gained his desired position and began firing, quickly followed by Herrick, Stickney, and Hobart, while Stark assailed the Tory breastwork and the bridge with a portion of his brigade, the Berkshire and the Vermont militia. "Those redcoats are ours to-day, or Molly Stark's a widow!" he called to his mountaineers, and, following him, they dashed through the turbulent stream in pursuit of the scattering Tories and Canadians. The despised Yankee farmers, un-uniformed for the most part, wearing no badge but a cornhusk or a green twig in the hatband, fighting in their shirtsleeves,--for the sun poured down its scalding rays with intense fervor,--closed in on all sides and showered their well-aimed volleys upon the Brunswick veterans, who fought with intrepid but unavailing bravery. The Indians fled in affright, stealing away in single file, thankful to get off with their own scalps and without plunder, for "the woods were full of Yankees," they said. Parson Allen, mounting a stump, exhorted the enemy to lay down their arms, but received only the spiteful response of musketry. Clambering down from his perch, he exchanged his Bible for a gun, and his gunpowder proved more effective than his exhortations. The fire was furious, and every musket and rifle shot, every thunderous roar of the rapidly served cannon, was repeated in multitudinous echoes by the hills. For two hours the roar of the conflict was, said Stark, "like a continuous clap of thunder." He had been in the storm of fire that swept down Abercrombie's assaulting columns at Ticonderoga, had fought at Bunker Hill, Trenton, and Princeton, yet he declared that this fight was the hottest he had ever seen. Warner, who was in the thickest of it with him, well knew every foot of the ground they were fighting over, and the value of his aid and advice was generously acknowledged by Stark. The cannoneers were shot down and the guns taken; an ammunition wagon exploded and the assailing Yankees swarmed over the breastworks, charging with bayonetless guns upon the valiant Brunswickers, many of whom were killed, many taken prisoners, while a few escaped. The victory of the Americans was complete, and when the prisoners had been sent to Bennington town under a sufficient guard, the militia dispersed over the blood-stained field in quest of spoil.