University of Virginia Library

28. CHAPTER XXVIII.
Robin Day's first battle; with a surprising discovery which he
makes in the midst of it.

So I held my peace, and the chickens, assumed a
bold military step, and marched onwards with my
new comrades, until a turn of the road brought us
suddenly in view of a broad river, and a village of
some ten or a dozen houses standing on its banks.
Among these, we could perceive the glimmer of
arms and military uniforms, and a banner waving in
the wind over the heads of a company of soldiers,
drawn up on the borders of the river, evidently to
receive a fleet of armed boats that was seen, at no
great distance, ascending the tide with all the force
of oars. At the same time, I perceived five or six
companies similar to our own, but most of them more
numerous, and some of them of a much more orderly
and soldier-like appearance, marching from different
points, over the fields, towards the village, one of
which immediately effected a junction with us, its
conductor, of superior rank to our own leader, assuming
the command over us, and uniting us to his
own company. He signalised his authority by
d—ning his subordinate's eyes, and telling him he
was drunk; by pronouncing the company a set of
lubbers and horse-marines; by thwacking the knight
of the petticoat over the back with the flat of his

sword for calling him Swabs, and offering him, with
drunken generosity, a sop from a black bottle which
he produced; and finally, turning to me, he demanded
very magisterially, “who I was, and what the
devil I was doing with my long nine,” (meaning the
duck gun,) “at the head of the company, marching
like a bullfrog under a bean-pole?”

I replied, as I had done before, that “I was a
volunteer;” at which he looked surprised, and was
about to ask me further questions; when the sudden
report of a musket from the village, answered by a
lusty hurrah from the boats, and from some of the
companies on shore, put other matters into his mind;
and he hastily exclaimed, addressing especially my
disorderly brothers-in-arms, “Now, you drunken
blackguards, fight like bulldogs, or I'll marry you to
the gunner's daughter, every man of you. There's
the enemy in the town, already banging at us, d'ye
see; and there are the boats, trying to overhaul the
raggamuffins before us, d'ye see; give way—quick
step; make ready for a broadside, and carry the ship
by boarding.”

With these words, he drew his sword, and putting
himself at our head, led the way gallantly towards
the town; in which example he was imitated
by the leaders of the other companies, all of them,
as I now observed, quickening their march, as if
to see which should first reach the field of battle.

The words of my new commander filled me with
confusion. I had, all along, supposed we were
marching to the town, to reinforce its defenders, and
repel the British, then approaching against it in
boats. What did my commander mean by calling
the village troops “the enemy?” and what did they
mean by firing—or in his eloquent phraseology—
banging at us? for, it seemed, the musket shot had
been aimed at us.

As these questions occurred to me, I gave another
look to the town, which we were now approaching
at charging speed, and perceived that the flag, waving
over the heads of its defenders, was starred and
striped—that is, an American flag: there was no
mistaking that, for our leader called attention to it
by crying, “There goes the gridiron—give 'em a
sight of the red bunting!” I looked round upon
the banner which was immediately displayed over
our own heads; and, horror of horrors, it bore the
bloody cross of Britain!

Our commander noted my looks of confusion, and
exclaimed, with great ire, waving his sword as if
about to cut me down, but without relaxing his
steps,—“What! you cowardly rascal! is that the
way you volunteer to fight the enemies of your king
and country? Fight bravely, you dog, or I'll slice
you to pieces!”

“Sir,” said I, in great distress, “I have made a
mistake—I have volunteered on the wrong side!”
—Which was no more than true, as I now clearly
perceived, having, in my great hurry to enter upon
the glorious life of a patriot soldier, taken service
along with a band of marauders—foraging sailors,
whom I had mistaken for soldiers, and, worse than
all, for American militia-men.

But the error was now irretrievable. Business
was waxing thick and hot on my commander's hands;
the enemy—that is, his enemy, not mine—were
nigh at hand, and shots began to be fired from various
quarters; the scent of gunpowder was in his
nostrils, and the savour of plunder on his lips; and
to my piteous exclamation, “I was on the wrong
side,” he deigned no other reply than a hasty
“D—n the difference—fight away like a brave fellow;”—adding
to my comrades, “Now men, give
them a shot, and at 'em like bulldogs!”

Bang—bang went twenty guns about my ears,
and I immediately felt myself borne towards the
village by a rush of my companions, among whom
I was swept, whether I would or not, receiving,
every now and then, the prick of a bayonet or cutlass
in the back from some hasty brother-in-arms,
by which my steps were wonderfully accelerated.
In short, I marched into the village; which being
speedily cleared of its defenders, though how I
never knew, being too much frightened to make
any observations on the action, was taken possession
of, plundered, set in flames, and then immediately
evacuated; the victors embarking in the boats with
their plunder and my unlucky self, whom the
strangeness of the adventure, left still overwhelmed
with amazement and terror.