The gunner who rammed home the charge said:
"By thunder, she's almost full to the muzzle. Shouldn't wonder if she'd
bust." Each soldier took his position. A tremendous volley of cannon
shots suddenly rained on the fort. It seemed as if the British had fired
every gun at the same instant. A profound silence succeeded within,
which lasted for perhaps two minutes, at the end of which time the enemy
was seen to advance through the smoke, in one compact column, with the
steady tread of assured victors. When Croghan gave the order to fire,
such a withering volley was poured in by the garrison, that the British
reeled and fell into disorder. Whatever others may have done in that
fire, Fernando's sharpshooters wasted no bullets. For a moment, the
Britons wavered and were about to fly, when Lieutenant-Colonel Short,
who led the British in assault, sprang to the front of his soldiers and,
waving his sword above his head, cried:
"Cut away the pickets, my brave boys, and show the d--d Yankees no
quarter!"
A wild, angry shout answered this appeal, and the ranks recovering their
order, the head of the column rushed forward, and leaped down into the
ditch, which was soon densely crowded. This was the time for which
Croghan had waited. Another minute and the fort would have been
captured. The over-loaded six-pounder, so trained as to rake the
assailants, now bore fully on the masses of soldiery in the ditch.
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