and there about were too true witnesses. Simeon and I,
on this, called a halt and consulted together with the gunner whether we
should go back or seek further adventures ahead.

"We have taken one prisoner, perhaps we may make some more and gain some
little credit when we present ourselves with them in camp, so I vote
that we go on," said I; and my proposal was agreed to.

As we supposed that we might be in the face of an enemy we kept closer
together than before, and moved on more cautiously. After advancing
some way we heard voices in an orchard on the skirts of the wood, and,
supposing the sounds to proceed from a party of the rebels, we presented
our muskets and advanced towards the gate of the orchard, fully
expecting to make more prisoners. Just, however, as we began to move on
up started before us a body of two or three hundred Hessians, with
glittering brass helmets on their heads, who, with fixed bayonets and
loud cries, charged furiously at us. Had we attempted to move they
would have shot us, so we stood our ground and sung out most lustily
that we were friends. They did not understand us, and, charging on,
would, I fully, expected, have bayoneted us on the spot. "Friends--
friends! English--British officers!" I sung out at the top of my
voice.

"Rebels, rebels!" was the only answer we got; and in another moment we
were knocked over with the butt-ends of their muskets. We picked
ourselves up as well as we could, and I pointed to my own and Simeon's
white cuffs and lapels, and told them that we belonged to the British
fleet, but to no purpose; and what was my dismay when they showed us at
a little distance an unfortunate rebel officer who lay on the ground
with his leg shot off, and who was dressed in the same uniform which we
wore. He told them as well as he could that he knew nothing of us, but
they would not believe him, and, having talked together in their hideous
lingo, once more knocked us over and began belabouring us with their
muskets. I never met such savages, and I am not surprised that they
were hated by the poor colonists. I am sure we bore them no love,
especially just then. We sung out lustily for mercy, for to our horror
we saw that they were about to finish us off by plunging their bayonets
into us, when our cries brought up an officer on horseback, in whom, to
my great satisfaction, I recognised General Pigot, the commander of the
division to which they belonged. He knew me on