An accident at length arrested this melancholy carnage. One of the British columns, in a hurried advance, lost their way, and became bewildered in the neighboring forest. When, after a time, they emerged upon the open country, a heavy fire was perceived close in front, as they thought, from the French intrenchments. With unhappy promptitude, they poured a deadly volley upon the supposed enemy; but when a breeze from the lake lifted the curtain of the smoke from the bloody scene, they saw that their shot had fallen with fatal precision among the red coats of their countrymen. Then indeed hesitation, confusion, and panic arose in the English ranks; their desperate courage had proved vain; a frightful loss had fallen upon their best and bravest; most of their officers were struck down; the bewildered general gave them no orders, sent them no aid; their strength was exhausted by repeated efforts under the fiery sun; and still, from behind the inaccessible breast-work, the French, steady and almost unharmed, poured a rolling fire upon their defenseless masses. The painful tale must now be told: the English Infantry turned and fled. The disorder in a few minutes became irretrievable; those who had been foremost in the fierce assault were soon the first in the disgraceful flight. Highlanders and Provincials, Rangers and Grenadiers, scarce looked behind them in their terror, nor saw that no man pursued. In this hour of greatest need, General Abercromby remained at the saw-mills, nearly two miles from the field of battle.[133] When the fugitives found that the French did not venture to press upon their rear, they in some measure rallied upon a few still unbroken battalions that were posted around the position occupied by the general. Scarcely, however, had any thing of confidence been restored, when an unaccountable command[134] from Abercromby, to retreat to the landing-place, renewed the panic. The soldiers instantly concluded that they were to embark with every speed to escape the pursuit of the victorious enemy, and, breaking from all order and control, crowded toward the boats. Happily, the brave Bradstreet still held together a small force, like himself, unshaken by this groundless terror: with prompt decision, he threw himself before the landing place, and would not suffer a man to embark. To this gallant officer may be attributed the preservation of Abercromby's army: had the disordered masses been allowed to crowd into the boats, thousands must have perished in the waters of the lake. By this wise and spirited step, regularity was in a little time again restored, and the troops held their ground for the night.