Under these circumstances the men turned to their commander for instructions. Unfortunately, Major Woolsey was a fallen star amid that glorious galaxy to which we look back with such pride—he was that pitiable object at which women blush—a _coward in epaulettes_! Where was he in the emergency which ought to have called forth all his powers? "Among the women and children in a house of the fort!" says the historian, but the narrator does not inform us whether or not the Major absolutely begged the shelter of their skirts! And, "when driven out by the ridicule of his associates, he crawled around the intrenchments upon his hands and knees." There was one way in which this incident was of service to the troops who awaited the orders of their commander. The Major's cowardice was so utterly ridiculous that the jeers and laughter it called forth restored courage to the men, who had been so suddenly surprised as to be at first disheartened. Among those who shook with mingled wrath and laughter at sight of the impotence of their leader was Murphy. At the first note of danger he had sprung to the ramparts, his unerring rifle in hand, his bright eye flashing fire. _He_ should have been in the Major's place. It is men like him who electrify their comrades with the thrilling enthusiasm and reliance of their own courage—men who know not fear, who think nothing of themselves and all of their cause—cool, prompt, ready for any emergency. _He_ should have been the leader: but he was only a militiaman, whose term of service had expired at that, and who was "fighting on his own account." But he could not brook the disgrace of such leadership; when the commander of the fort went creeping about on his hands, the militiaman felt that it was time to take the reins in his own grasp, and he did it. Implicit obedience from the soldier to the officer is a necessity; but there are exceptions to all rules, and this was one of them; to be mutinous then was to be true to duty and to honor. Deeming the fort their own, the enemy sent out an officer with a flag of truce. As soon as he came in sight, the relieved Major got off his knees, commanding his men to cease all firing. Now it was that this justifiable mutiny ensued. Murphy, from his position on the ramparts, answered to the flag, warning it away, threatening in event of its closer approach to _fire upon it_. This remarkable assumption of authority confounded all within the fort. He was ordered by the officers of the regular troops to forbear, but the militiamen, whose hero he was, cheered him, and swore he should have his way. Thus supported, as soon as the flag of truce came within range, he fired purposely missing the messenger who bore it, when the flag quickly retired. This "outrage" at once closed all avenues to a peaceful surrender. The enemy's artillery opened upon the fort. A continual fusillade was kept up by the mortars, the grasshopper, and the rifles of the Indians, fortunately with little effect.