A hill half a mile north of us suddenly became dark with men; we saw the glitter of their muskets, saw the long belt of white smoke encircle them, saw red-jacketed men run out of a farmhouse, mount, and gallop toward the burning town.

Along the road below us a column of Continental infantry appeared on the run, cheering us with their hats.

A roar from our dragoons answered them; our bugle-horn spoke, and I saw Major Tallmadge, with a trumpeter at his back, rein in while the troopers were reforming and calling off amid a whirlwind of rearing horses and excited men.

Below in the village, the British had heard and perfectly understood the volley from Thomas’s regiment, and the cavalry and mounted infantry of the Legion were assembling in the smoke, and already beginning a rapid retreat by the Bedford road.

As Boyd and I went clattering down the hill, we saw Major Lockwood with Thomas’s men, and we rode up to him.  He passed his sword to the left hand, and leaning across in his saddle, exchanged a grip with us.  His face was ghastly.

“I know—­ I know,” he said hurriedly.  “I have seen my wife and children.  My wife is not badly injured.  All are in safety.  Thank you, gentlemen.”

We wheeled our horses and fell in beside our infantry, now pressing forward on a heavy run, so that Colonel Thomas and Major Lockwood had to canter their horses.

Firing instantly broke out as we entered the smoky zone where the houses were burning.  Into it, an our left, galloped Sheldon’s light dragoons, who, having but five muskets in the command, went at the Yagers with naked sabres; and suddenly found themselves in touch with the entire Legion cavalry, who set up a Loud bawling: 

“Surrender, you damned rebels!  Pull up, there!  Halt!”

I saw a trooper, one Jared Hoyt, split the skull of a pursuing British dragoon straight across the mouth with a back-handed stroke, as he escaped from the melee; and another, one John Buckhout, duck his head as a dragoon fired at him, and, still ducking and loudly cursing the fellow, rejoin us as we sheered off from the masses of red-jacketed riders, wheeled, and went at the mounted Yagers, who did not stand our charge.

There was much smoke, and the thick, suffocating gloom was lighted only by streaming sparks, so that in the confusion and explosion of muskets it was difficult to manoeuvre successfully and at the same time keep clear of Tarleton’s overwhelming main body.

This body was now in full but orderly retreat, driving with it cattle, horses, and some two dozen prisoners, mostly peaceable inhabitants who had taken no part in the affair.  Also, they had a wagon piled with the helmets, weapons, and accoutrements of Sheldon’s dead riders; and one of their Hussars bore Sheldon’s captured standard in his stirrup.

To charge this mass of men was not possible with the two score horsemen left us; and they retreated faster than our militia and Continentals could travel.  So all we could do was to hang on their rear and let drive at them from our saddles.