hedge fence which crowned the
eminence, and immediately opened up a destructive fire from his
riflemen, which temporarily checked the advancing enemy. The British,
excellently led, returned the fire with great spirit, and with such
good effect that, after a few volleys, Mercer's horse was wounded in
the leg and his rider thrown violently to the ground, Talbot's was
killed under him, and several of the officers and men fell,--among them
the brave Colonel Haslet, who was mortally wounded. In the confusion
thus unfortunately caused, the Americans could hear sharp commands of
the English officers, then the rattling of steel on the gun-barrels,
and the next moment the red-coated men broke out of the smoke and,
unchecked by a scattering fire from the Americans, gallantly rushed up
at them with fixed bayonets. There were unfortunately no bayonets in
this small brigade of the Continental army. A few of the men clubbed
their muskets resolutely as the two lines met, and made a stout
resistance; but the on-coming British would not be denied, and, as the
charge was pressed home, the Americans wavered, broke, and fell back in
some disorder before the vigorous onslaught of the veteran troops.
Mercer, filled with shame, strove in vain to rally his men. Disdaining
himself to retreat, and gallantly calling upon them to advance, he
threw himself upon the advancing British line, sword in hand, followed
by his officers, and for a brief space there was an exciting melee on
the hill. A blow from the butt end of a musket felled the general to
the ground. Talbot sprang to his side, and swept the bayonet away from
his heart by a blow of his sword delivered with a quick movement of his
powerful arm. Mercer profited by the moment's respite to leap to his
feet.

"Thank you, my lad," he said.

"Do you get to the rear and rally the men, general," cried Talbot,
firing a pistol at short range into the midst of the crowding enemy.
"I 'll hold these men in play." But the fighting blood of the old
Scotchman was up, and for answer he struck boldly at the man opposite
him.

"Surrender, you damned rebels!" cried an officer near them.

"Never!" replied Mercer, cutting down the man with whom he was engaged,
while Talbot did the like to the one next him. With a roar of rage the
British sprang on the two men. In a trice one of the bayonets got past
Mercer's guard and grazed his arm, another buried itself in his bosom,
a third struck him in the