material of war to New York by water, while the troops commenced their march through New Jersey. The cold of winter had given place to the heat of summer.

Washington followed closely in the rear of the foe, watching for a chance to strike. The 28th of June, 1788, was a day of intense heat. Not a breath of air was stirring, while an unclouded sun poured down its blistering rays upon pursuers and pursued. The British troops were at Monmouth. The march of one more day would so unite them with the army in New York, that they would be safe from attack. Washington ordered an assault. Gen. Lee, with five thousand men, was in the advance. Washington sent orders to him immediately to commence the onset, with the assurance that he would hasten to his support. As Washington was pressing eagerly forward, to his inexpressible chagrin he met Gen. Lee at the head of his troops, in full retreat. It is said that Washington, with great vehemence of manner and utterance, cried out, "Gen. Lee, what means this ill-timed prudence?" The retreating general threw back the angry retort, "I know of no man blessed with a larger portion of that rascally virtue than your Excellency."

It was no time for altercation. Washington turned to the men. They greeted him with cheers. At his command, they wheeled about, and charged the enemy. A sanguinary battle ensued, and the English were driven from the field. Night closed the scene. The colonists slept upon their arms, prepared to renew the battle in the morning. Washington, wrapping his cloak around him, threw himself upon the grass, and slept in the midst of his soldiers. When the morning dawned, no foe was to be seen. The British had retreated in the night to the Heights of Middletown. They left three hundred of their dead behind them. The Americans lost but sixty-nine. The British also lost one hundred in prisoners, and over six hundred had deserted from their ranks since they left Philadelphia. The English common soldiers had but little heart to fight against their brothers who were strug gling for independence. At Middletown, the British embarked on board their ships, and were conveyed to New York.

They had now inhumanly summoned the Indians to their aid. The tomahawk and the scalping-knife were mercilessly employed. Towns, villages, farm-houses, were burned, and their inhabitantsmen, women, and children were massacred by savages, inspired

with the fury of demons. The British ministry encouraged these atrocities. They said that rebellious America must be punished into submission; and that, in inflicting this punishment, it was right to make use of all the instruments which God and Nature had placed in their hands.

But it must not be forgotten that there were many noble Englishmen who espoused our cause. Some of the ablest men in both the House of Commons and the House of Lords, and thousands throughout England, were in cordial sympathy with the colonists struggling for their rights. Instead of adopting the execra ble sentiment, "Our country, right or wrong," they acted upon that noble maxim, "Our country, — when right, to be kept right; when wrong, to be put right." Of these men, some pleaded for us at home, some aided us with their money and counsel, and some entered our ranks as officers and soldiers. Lord Chatham, in tones which echoed throughout the civilized world, exclaimed in the House of Lords, and at the very foot of the throne, "Were I an American, as I am an Englishman, I would never lay down my arms, - never, never, NEVER!”

Another cold and cheerless winter came; and the American army went into winter-quarters mainly at West Point, on the Hudson. The British remained within their lines at New York. They sent agents, however, to the Six Nations of Indians, to arm them against our defenceless frontier. These fierce savages, accompanied by Tory bands, perpetrated horrors too awful for recital. The massacres of Cherry Valley and of Wyoming were among the most awful of the tragedies which have ever been wit nessed on this globe. The narrative of these fiendish deeds sent a thrill of horror through England as well as America. Four thousand men were sent by Washington into the wilderness, to arrest, if possible, these massacres. The savages, and their still more guilty allies, were driven to Niagara, where they were received into an English fortress.

The summer campaign opened with an indiscriminate devastation and plunder, pursued vigorously by the English. "A war of this sort," said Lord George Germain, "will probably induce the rebellious provinces to return to their allegiance." The British now concentrated their forces for an attack upon West Point, and to get the control of the upper waters of the Hudson. Washington detected and thwarted their plan. Gen. Clinton, who was

then in command of the British forces, exasperated by this discomfiture, commenced a more vigorous prosecution of a system of violence and plunder upon the defenceless towns and farmhouses of the Americans who were unprotected. The sky was reddened with wanton conflagration. Women and children were driven houseless into the fields. The flourishing towns of Fairfield and Norwalk, in Connecticut, were reduced to ashes.

While the enemy was thus ravaging that defenceless State, Washington planned an expedition against Stony Point, on the Hudson, which was held by the British. Gen. Wayne conducted the enterprise, on the night of the 15th of July, with great gal lantry and success. Sixty-three of the British were killed, five hundred and forty-three were taken prisoners, and all the military stores of the fortress captured. During this summer campaign, the American army was never sufficiently strong to take the offensive. It was, however, incessantly employed striking blows upon the English wherever the eagle eye of Washington could discern an exposed spot.

The winter of 1779 set in early, and with unusual severity. The American army was in such a starving condition, that Washington was compelled to make the utmost exertions to save his wasting band from annihilation. Incited by his urgent appeals, the colonies made new efforts to augment their forces for a more vigorous campaign in the spring. Cheering intelligence arrived that a land and naval force might soon be expected from our generous friends the French.

In July, twelve vessels of war arrived from France, with arms, ammunition, and five thousand soldiers. This squadron was, however, immediately blockaded in Newport by a stronger British fleet; and another expedition, which was about to sail from Brest, in France, was effectually shut up in that port. The war still raged in detachments, widely spread; and conflagration, blood, and misery deluged our unhappy land.

These long years of war and woe filled many even of the most sanguine hearts with despair. Not a few true patriots deemed it madness for the colonies, impoverished as they now were, any longer to contend against the richest and most powerful monarchy upon the globe. Gen. Arnold, who was at this time in command at West Point, saw no hope for his country. Believing the ship to be sinking, he ingloriously sought to take care of himself. He

turned traitor, and offered to sell his fortress to the English. The treason was detected: but the traitor escaped; and the lamented André, who had been lured into the position of a spy, became the necessary victim of Arnold's crime.

Lord Cornwallis was now, with a well-provided army and an assisting navy, overrunning the two Carolinas. Gen. Greene was sent, with all the force which Washington could spare, to watch and harass the invaders, and to furnish the inhabitants with all the protection in his power. Lafayette was in the vicinity of New York, with his eagle eye fixed upon the foe, ready to pounce upon any detachment which presented the slightest exposure. Washington was everywhere, with patriotism which never flagged, with hope which never failed, cheering the army, animating the inhabitants, rousing Congress, and guiding with his well-balanced mind both military and civil legislation. Thus the dreary summer of 1780 lingered away in our war-scathed land.

Again our heroic little army went into winter-quarters, mainly on the banks of the Hudson. As the spring of 1781 opened, the war was renewed. The British directed their chief attention to the South, which was far weaker than the North. Richmond, in Virginia, was laid in ashes; and a general system of devastation and plunder prevailed. The enemy ascended the Chesapeake and the Potomac with armed vessels. They landed at Mount Vernon. The manager of the estate, to save the mansion from pillage and flames, furnished the legalized robbers with abundance of supplies. Washington was much displeased. He wrote to his agent,

"It would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have heard, that, in consequence of your non-compliance with their request, they had burned my house, and laid the plantation in ruins. You ought to have considered yourself as my representative, and should have reflected on the bad example of communicating with the enemy, and making a voluntary offer of refreshments to them, with a view to prevent a conflagration."

The prospects of the country were still very dark. On the 1st of May, 1781, Washington wrote, "Instead of magazines filled with provisions, we have a scanty pittance scattered here and there in the different States. Instead of arsenals well supplied, they are poorly provided, and the workmen all leaving. Instead of having field-equipage in readiness, the quartermaster-general is but now applying to the several States to supply these things.

Instead of having the regiments completed, scarce any State has, at this hour, an eighth part of its quota in the field; and there is little prospect of their ever getting more than half. In a word, instead of having every thing in readiness to take the field, we have nothing. Instead of having the prospect of a glorious offensive campaign, we have a gloomy and bewildering defensive one, unless we should receive a powerful aid of ships, land-troops, and money, from our generous allies."

The army had in fact, about this time, dwindled away to three thousand; and the paper-money issued by Congress, with which the troops were paid, had become almost entirely valueless. Lord Cornwallis was now at Yorktown, in Virginia, but a few miles from Chesapeake Bay. There was no force in his vicinity seriously to annoy him. Washington resolved, in conjunction with our allies from France, to make a bold movement for his capture. He succeeded in deceiving the English into the belief that he was making great preparations for the siege of New York. Thus they were prevented from rendering any aid to Yorktown.

By rapid marches, Washington hastened to encircle the foe. Early in September, Lord Cornwallis, as he arose one morning, was amazed to see, in the rays of the morning sun, the heights around him gleaming with the bayonets and the batteries of the Americans. At about the same hour, the French fleet appeared, in invincible strength, before the harbor. Cornwallis was caught. There was no escape; there was no retreat. Neither by land nor by sea could he obtain any supplies. Shot and shell soon began to fall thickly into his despairing lines. Famine stared him in the face. After a few days of hopeless conflict, on the 19th of October, 1781, he was compelled to surrender. Seven thousand British veterans laid down their arms to the victors. One hundred and sixty pieces of cannon, with corresponding military stores, graced the triumph. Without the assistance of our generous allies the French, we could not have gained this victory. Let not our gratitude be stinted or cold.

When the British soldiers were marching from their intrenchments to lay down their arms, Washington thus addressed his troops: "My brave fellows, let no sensation of satisfaction for the triumphs you have gained induce you to insult your fallen enemy. Let no shouting, no clamorous huzzaing, increase their mortification. Posterity will huzza for us.”