Part 52 (1/2)
I had already deployed my right into line; the panic-stricken militia came heading on as we opened to let them through; then we closed up; a sheet of flame poured out into the very faces of Butler's Rangers; another, another!
Bolt upright in the stirrups, I lifted my smoking rifle: ”Rangers!
Charge!”
Beneath my plunging horse a soldier in green went down screaming; an Indian darted past, falling to death under a dozen clubbed rifles; then a yelling ma.s.s of green-coated soldiers, forced and crushed back into the hedge, turned at bay; and into this writhing throng leaped my riflemen, hatchets flas.h.i.+ng.
”Hold that hedge, Captain Renault!” came a calm voice near me, and I saw Colonel Willett at my elbow, struggling with his frantic horse.
A mounted officer near him cried: ”The rest of the militia on the right are wavering, Colonel!”
”Then stop them, Captain Zielie!” said Willett, dragging his horse to a stand. His voice was lost in the swelling roar of the fusillade where my Rangers were holding the hedge. On the extreme right, through an open field, I saw the militia scattering, darting about wildly. There came a flash, a roar, and the scene was blotted out in a huge fountain of flame and smoke.
”They've blown up the ammunition-wagon! Butler's men have taken our cannon!” yelled a soldier, swinging his arms frantically. ”Oh, my G.o.d!
the militia are running from the field!”
It was true. One of those dreadful and unaccountable panics had seized the militia. Nothing could stop them. I saw Colonel Willett spur forward, sword flas.h.i.+ng; officers rode into the retreating lines, begging and imploring them to stand. The pressure on my riflemen was enormous, and I ordered them to fall back by squads in circles to the fringe of woods. They obeyed very coolly and in perfect order, retiring step by step, shot by shot.
Ma.s.sachusetts infantry were holding the same woods; a few Tryon militia rallied to us, and Colonel Gray took command. ”For G.o.d's sake, Renault, go and help Willett stop the militia!” he begged. ”I'll hold this corner till you can bring us aid!”
I peered about me through the smoke, gathered bridle, wheeled through the bushes into the open field, and hurled my horse forward along the line of retreat.
Never had I believed brave men could show such terror. n.o.body heeded me, n.o.body listened. At my voice they only ran the faster, I galloping alongside, beseeching them, and looking for Willett.
Straight into the streets of Johnstown fled the militia, crowding the town in mad and shameless panic, carrying with them their mounted officers, as a torrent hurls chips into a whirlpool.
”Halt! In Heaven's name, what is the matter? Why, you had them on the run, you men of Tryon, you Ulster men!” cried Colonel Willett.
A seething ma.s.s of fugitives was blocked at the old stone church. Into them plunged the officers, cursing, threatening, imploring, I among them, my horse almost swept from his legs in the rus.h.i.+ng panic.
”Don't run, lads,” I said; ”don't put us all to this shame! Why, what are you afraid of? I saw nothing to scare a child on the hill. And this is my first battle. I thought war was something to scare a man. But this is nothing. You wouldn't leave the Rangers there all alone, would you? They're up there drilling holes in the Indians who came to murder your wives and children. Come on, boys! You didn't mean it. We can't let those yagers and Greens take a cannon as easily as that!”
They were listening to Willett, too; here and there a sergeant took up the pleading. I found an exhausted drummer-boy sitting on the steps of the church, and induced him to stand up and beat the a.s.sembly. Officer after officer struggled through the mob, leading out handfuls of men; lines formed; I s.n.a.t.c.hed a flag from an ensign and displayed it; a company, at shoulder arms, headed by a drummer, emerged from the chaos, marching in fair alignment; another followed more steadily; line after line fell in and paraded; the fifes began to squeal, and the shrill quickstep set company after company in motion.
”It's all right, lads!” cried Willett cheerily, as he galloped forward.
”We are going back for that cannon we lost by mistake. Come on, you Tryon County men! Don't let the Rangers laugh at you!”
Then the first cheer broke out; mounted officers rode up, baring their swords, surrounding the Colonel. He gave me a calm and whimsical look, almost a smile:
”Scared, Carus?”
”No, sir.”
”D'ye hear that firing to the left? Well, that's Rowley's flanking column of levies and the Ma.s.sachusetts men. Hark! Listen to that rifle music! Now we'll drive them! Now we've got them at last!”
I caught him by the sleeve, and bent forward from my saddle:
”Do you know that the woman I am to marry is with the enemy?” I demanded hoa.r.s.ely.