t was to find the flotilla well in toward its intended
landing-place, and the American troops retreating in great disorder from
their breastworks.

Exclamations of surprise and dismay sprang from the lips of the riders,
and their leader, turning his horse, jumped the fence and galloped
across the fields to intercept the fugitives. Five minutes brought them
up to the runaways, who, out of breath with the sharpness of their race,
had come to a halt, and were being formed by their officers into a
little less disorder.

"General Fellows, what was the reason for this shameful retreat?"
demanded the general, when within speaking distance.

"The men were seized with a panic on the approach of the boats, your
Excellency, and could not be held in the lines."

Washington faced the regiments, his face blazing with scorn. "You ran
before a shot had been fired! Before you lost a man, you deserted works
that have taken weeks to build, and which could be held against any such
force." He paused for a moment, and then, drawing his sword, called with
spirit: "Who's for recovering them?"

A faint cheer passed down the lines; but almost as it sounded, the red
coats of fifty or sixty light infantry came into view on the road, a
skirmishing party thrown forward from the landing to reconnoiter. Had
they been Howe's whole army, however, they could not have proved more
effective, for instantly the two brigades broke and dissolved once more
into squads of flying men.

At such cowardice, Washington lost all control of himself, and, dashing
in among the fugitives, he passionately struck right and left with the
flat of his sword, thundering curses at them; while Putnam and Mifflin,
as well as the aides, followed his example. It was hopeless, however, to
stay the rush; the men took the blows and the curses unheeding, while
throwing away their guns and scattering in every direction.

Made frantic by such conduct, Washington wheeled his horse. "Charge!" he
cried, and rode toward the enemy, waving his sword.

If the commander-in-chief had hoped to put some of his own courage into
the troops by his example, he failed. Not a man of the runaways ceased
fleeing. None the less, as if regardless of consequences in his
desperation, Washington rode on, until one of the aides dashed his spurs
into his horse and came up beside his general at a mad gallop.

"Your Excellency!" he cried, "'tis but hopeless, and will but end in--"
Then, as his superior did