A dragoon named John Buckout, from Philipse Manor, was closely followed up by one of the Seventeenth, and repeatedly called upon to surrender. By dint of spurring, the fugitive was just able to keep out of reach of his pursuer's sabre. The red-coat finding that he could not reach his quarry with the sword, drew a pistol and discharged it at Buckout's head. The ball perforated his cap, grazing the scalp on one side of his

CAPTURE OF POUNDRIDGE 41

head, but doing no farther injury. "There," cried out the King's trooper, "you d...d rebel, a little more, and I should have blown your brains out." "Yes," replied Buck-out, turning round in the saddle, and calling out to the extent of his lungs; "Yes, but you are a bad shot: a little more and you wouldn't have touched me." Buckout continued to urge his steed forward, and escaped without additional hurt. Jared Hoyt of Stamford, another private, was fiercely pressed by one of the Legionary officers, who finding curses and calls for submission of no avail, got within striking distance, and then with his utmost might, aimed a blow at the head of the retreating horseman. The stroke was in part parried by Hoyt, who held his sword at guard, over his head. The blow how-ever, had sufficient force left to cut through the horse-hair with which his helmet was ornamented. In the irritation of the moment he checked the speed of his horse and at the same instant, without giving his adversary time to recover, gave him a back-handed sword-stroke which passed through his mouth; cutting him nearly from ear to ear, and putting an effectual period to his vociferation. The enemy's trumpets now sounded the recall. When the chase was discontinued, the militia began to re-assemble, and taking advantage of trees and fences, fired upon the royal horsemen whenever opportunity offered.