House, eastward, which the invaders occupied. A sharp rifle fire rang through this thick plantation for some time without any visible result; at last, the English dashed in with fixed bayonets, and in a hand-to-hand conflict drove their enemies from tree to tree down the hill to the open pleasure-grounds of the mansion, and here a desperate combat raged; the English striving to carry by storm the garrisoned house. Every window was spitting fire upon them; the lower apartments were strongly barricaded, and a succession of fierce rushes against the house, first on one side then on another, was for a time repulsed with telling loss. But the French had not reckoned on their right wing being dislodged from the wooded hill opposite and driven in; hence reinforcements were not to hand for the moment. Meanwhile, the determined gallantry of two English battalions at last overpowered the house garrison, and after a stubborn cut-and-thrust struggle up the stairs, the British colours waved from the roof of the mansion.
Elated by this success, Lord Redhill prepared to advance the whole line. All his batteries which had been brought to bear upon the centre of the valley opened at once, while—the real movement—a strong body of cavalry, backed up by infantry, in fact, the whole of his right wing, swooped upon Whitegate and achieved a success even more brilliant than that which had just been gained on the left. Dashing along the road which acts as a sea wall in front of the village [ref. Chap. XIII.], they fell upon the Americans with a sudden shock and drove them pell-mell out of the village, forcing them to shelter in the wood which clothes the shoulder of the ridge and in the hollow behind it, where their reserve was stationed. Thus, both wings of the invader being already repulsed, the assault upon his centre began; but it failed, because the French centre was as good as impregnable. The crest of their hill was an
