Washington saw the danger to which these brave fellows were exposed, though they could not. Stationed on a hill within the lines, he commanded, with his telescope, a view of the whole field, and saw the enemy’s reserve, under Cornwallis, marching down by a cross-road to get in their rear, and thus place them between two fires. With breathless anxiety he watched the result. The sound of Sir Henry Clinton’s cannon apprised Stirling that the enemy was between him and the lines. General Grant, too, aware that the time had come for earnest action, was closing up, and had already taken Colonel Atlee prisoner. His lordship now thought to effect a circuitous retreat to the lines, by crossing the creek which empties into Gowanus Cove, near what was called the Yellow Mills. There was a bridge and mill-dam, and the creek might be forded at low water, but no time was to be lost, for the tide was rising. Leaving part of his men to keep face toward General Grant, Stirling advanced with the rest to pass the creek, but was suddenly checked by the appearance of Cornwallis and his grenadiers. Washington, and some of his officers on the hill, who watched every movement, had supposed that Stirling and his troops, finding the case desperate, would surrender in a body, without firing. On the contrary, his lordship boldly attacked Cornwallis with half of Smallwood’s battalion, while the rest of his troops retreated across the creek. Washington wrung his hands in agony at the sight. “Good God!” cried he, “what brave fellows I must this day lose!”[97] It was, indeed, a desperate fight; and now Smallwood’s _macaronis_ showed their game spirit. They were repeatedly broken, but as often rallied, and renewed the fight. “We were on the point of driving Lord Cornwallis from his station,” writes Lord Stirling, “but large reinforcements arriving, rendered it impossible to do more than provide for safety.” “Being thus surrounded, and no probability of a reinforcement,” writes a Maryland officer, “his lordship ordered me to retreat with the remaining part of our men, and force our way to our camp. We soon fell in with a party of the enemy, who clubbed their firelocks, and waved their hats to us as if they meant to surrender as prisoners; but on our advancing within sixty yards, they presented their pieces and fired, which we returned with so much warmth that they soon quitted their post, and retired to a large body that was lying in ambuscade.”[98]