A hasty inspection of the ground caused Gates to order his force to fall back upon some plantations in their rear; the British, not at all sure of what was awaiting them, did not cross the creek; and thus the two armies lay upon their weapons waiting for daybreak. At the first graying of the eastern heavens the British were forming to advance, and the Americans were rapidly making ready to receive them. If there was any advantage it was in favor of Cornwallis. His force was composed of veterans, who would be cool under most exigencies, while Gates’ army was, for the greater part, made up of raw volunteers. The First Maryland division, including the Delawares under De Kalb, were posted on the right; the Virginia militia were on the left; the North Carolinians, led by the gallant Caswell were in the center, while the artillery, in battery, was in the road. Such was the formation of the American line; both wings rested upon morasses; the Second Maryland brigade was posted as a reserve a few hundred yards in the rear of the first. The battle began with the advance of the American left--the Virginians, under Stevens. A galling rifle fire was suddenly poured into them; struck by sudden panic they turned and fled, many of them not having even discharged their pieces. This wretched example was followed by the North Carolina division in the centre, with the exception of a single corps commanded by Major Dixon. The small body of cavalry, under Armond, a foreign adventurer, broke at the same moment. Tom Deering had been detained by the commander to carry messages and orders to different parts of the field; he saw the rout, and with sinking heart he strove to rally the fleeing militia, riding among them, waving his sabre and shouting desperately for them to stand and reform. “Are you cowards to run at the first fire?” he shouted. “Rally, men; strike a blow for freedom and your native state.” For very shame some of the fugitives halted, and Tom began rapidly reforming them. But, just then, the British cavalry plunged forward, and the hope of staying the panic was gone forever. The devoted Continentals--Maryland and Delaware troops, all trained soldiers--bore the brunt of the action. De Kalb was at their head, for Gates had ridden away to the rear in the desperate hope of rallying the militia; the artillery was in the hands of the enemy, and the regulars who continued to stand fast numbered but nine hundred, as opposed to two thousand of the best troops in the British service.