oon being but young, and
totally obscured with clouds. Our fires deserted by us, and beat
about by the enemy's shot, began to burn red and dull, and,
except when the flashes of those guns which played upon us cast a
momentary glare, not an object could be distinguished at the
distance of a yard. In this state we lay for nearly an hour,
unable to move from our ground, or offer any opposition to those
who kept us there; when a straggling fire of musketry called our
attention towards the piquets, and warned us to prepare for a
closer and more desperate struggle. As yet, however, it was
uncertain from what cause this dropping fire arose. It might
proceed from the sentinels, who, alarmed by the cannonade from
the river, mistook every tree for an American; and till the real
state of the case should be ascertained, it would be improper to
expose the troops by moving any of them from the shelter which
the bank afforded. But these doubts were not permitted to
continue long in existence. The dropping fire having paused for
a few moments, was succeeded by a fearful yell; and the heavens
were illuminated on all sides by a semi-circular blaze of
musketry. It was now manifest that we were surrounded, and that
by a very superior force; and that no alternative remained,
except to surrender at discretion, or to beat back the
assailants.

The first of these plans was never for an instant thought of; the
second was immediately put into force. Rushing from under the
bank, the 85th and 95th flew to support the piquets, whilst the
4th, stealing to the rear of the encampment, formed close column,
and remained as a reserve. And now began a battle of which no
language were competent to convey any distinct idea; because it
was one to which the annals of modern warfare furnish no
parallel. All order, all discipline were lost. Each officer, as
he succeeded in collecting twenty or thirty men about him,
plunged into the midst of the enemy's ranks, where it was fought
hand to hand, bayonet to bayonet, and sabre to sabre.

I am well aware that he who speaks of his own deeds in the field
of battle lies fairly open to the charge of seeking to make a
hero of himself in the eyes of the public; and feeling this, it
is not without reluctance that I proceed to recount the part
which I myself took in the affair of this night. But, in truth,
I must either play the egotist awhile, or leave the reader
without any details at all; inasmuch as the da