Against such marksmen as these there was to be no work with the bayonet, for the assaulting column literally fell as falls the grass under the keen scythe.

The survivors retired, however, only to join a fresh attack which was rallied and led by Pakenham himself.
He died with his men, but once more British pluck attempted the impossible, and the Highland brigade was chosen to lead this forlorn hope.

That night the pipers wailed _Lochaber no more_ for the mangled dead of the MacGregors, the MacLeans, and the MacDonalds who lay in windrows with their faces to the foe.

This was no Bladensburg holiday, and the despised Americans were paying off many an old score.

Two thousand of the flower of Britain's armies were killed or wounded in the few minutes during which the two assaults were so rashly attempted in parade formation.