" Dumas, now
chief in command, thought that all was lost. "I advanced," he says,
"with the assurance that comes from despair, exciting by voice and
gesture the few soldiers that remained. The fire of my platoon was so
sharp that the enemy seemed astonished." The Indians, encouraged, began
to rally. The French officers who commanded them showed admirable
courage and address; and while Dumas and Ligneris, with the regulars and
what was left of the Canadians, held the ground in front, the savage
warriors, screeching their war-cries, swarmed through the forest along
both flanks of the English, hid behind trees, bushes, and fallen trunks,
or crouched in gullies and ravines, and opened a deadly fire on the
helpless soldiery, who, themselves completely visible, could see no
enemy, and wasted volley after volley on the impassive trees. The most
destructive fire came from a hill on the English right, where the
Indians lay in multitudes, firing from their lurking-places on the
living target below. But the invisible death was everywhere, in front,
flank, and rear. The British cheer was heard no more. The troops broke
their ranks and huddled together in a bewildered mass, shrinking from
the bullets that cut them down by scores.
[Footnote 223: _Journal of the Proceeding of the Detachment of Seamen_,
in Sargent.]
[Footnote 224: _Dumas au Ministre, 24 Juillet, 1756. Contrecoeur a
Vaudreuil, 14 Juillet, 1755_.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247