V.—THE CONTEST IN THE VILLAGE STREET.
And in a moment the voice of Sullivan was heard—“Charge—upon the
`Britishers'—charge them home!”
And the steeds of the American cavalry came thundering on, sweeping
down the hill with one wild movement, rushing into the very centre of the
enemy's column, each trooper unhorsing his man, while a thousand fierce
shouts mingled in chorus, and the infantry advanced with fixed bayonets,
speeding steadily onward until they had driven back their foes with
the force of their solid charge.
And along that solitary street of Germantown swelled the din and terror
of battle, there grappled with the fierce grasp of vengeance and of death the
columns of contending foemen, there rode the troopers of the opposite
armies, their swords mingling, their horses meeting breast to breast in the
shock of this fierce tournament; there shrieked the wounded and dying,
while above the heads of the combatants waved the white folds of mist,
mingled with the murky battle smoke.
Sullivan charged bravely, Wayne came nobly to his rescue, Pulaski
scattered confusion into the ranks of the enemy, and the Americans had
been masters of the field were it not for a fresh disaster at Chew's House,
combined with the mistakes of the various bodies of the Continentals, who
were unable to discern friend from foe in the density of the fog.
