s--and the most they expected such a mob to do was to wait
somewhere below the city until the British soldiers should get ready to
drive them away with a few volleys.

So the British lighted their camp-fires, stacked their arms for the
night, and cooked their suppers. They meant to stay where they were for
a day or two until the rest of their force could come up, and then they
expected to march into the town and make themselves at home.

Night came on, and it was exceedingly dark. At half-past seven o'clock
there came a flash and a roar. The _Carolina_, lying in the river,
within a few hundred yards of the camp, had begun to pour her broadsides
into the British quarters. Her cannon vomited fire, and sent a
hail-storm of grape-shot into the camp, while the marines on board kept
up a steady fire of small-arms.

The British were completely surprised, but they were cool-headed old
soldiers, who were not to be scared by a surprise. They quickly formed a
line on the bank, and, bringing up some cannon, gave battle to the saucy
gun-boat.

For ten minutes this fight went on between the Americans on the river
and the British on shore; then Jackson ordered his troops to advance.
His columns rushed forward and fell upon the enemy, again surprising
them, and forcing them to fight on two sides at once. Coffee, who was
hidden over in the swamp, no sooner heard the roar of the _Carolina's_
guns than he gave the word to advance, and, rushing out of the bushes,
his rough Tennesseeans and Kentuckians attacked still another side of
the enemy's position.

Still the sturdy British held their ground, and fought like the brave
men and good soldiers that they were. It was too dark for anybody to see
clearly what was going on. The lines on both sides were soon broken up
into independent groups of soldiers, who could not see in what direction
they were marching, or maintain anything like a regular fight. Regiments
and battalions wandered about at their own discretion, fighting whatever
bodies of the enemy they met, and sometimes getting hopelessly entangled
with each other. Never was there so complete a jumble on a battle-field.
Whenever two bodies of troops met, they had to call out to each other to
find out whether they were friends or foes; then, if one body proved to
be Americans and the other British, they delivered a volley, and rushed
upon each other in a desperate struggle for mastery.

Sometimes a regiment would win success in one