ing war-frigate for a large merchantman. Finding his mistake, he tacked ship; and "The Providence"" showed her heels." The chase continued for four hours; and the stranger gained so rapidly as to get within musket-shot; when, to the astonishment of the British commander, just as he was sure of his prize, she edged away, tacked, filled all her sails, and bore directly down on her antagonist. Passing within pistol-shot, she sailed away before the wind; and, before the commander of "The Salisbury" had fairly recovered from his surprise, "The Providence" was out of reach.

"The Providence" was a lively little craft. She led off "The Milford," thirty-two guns, for hours, just keeping out of reach of harm; while "The Milford" kept up a roaring fire for the whole time, without giving "The Providence" a single shot. She glided about like the spirit of the sea, gathering up her prizes as if by magic.

Independence was now declared, and we had war in earnest, on the ocean as well as on the land.

"The Andrea Doria," Capt. Biddle, even outdid "The Providence" in the number of her exploits and captures.

In the mean time, Boston had been evacuated; but, as no notice of the fact could reach the British ships at sea, some thirty sail fell into our hands.

The Connecticut brig "Defence" leaving Plymouth on the 17th of June, 1776, Capt. Harding soon heard the noise of an engagement. Crowding sail for the scene, he came up with four light American schooners, which had been engaged with two British transports, using metal too heavy for them.

Capt. Harding made his arrangements for battle, and moving boldly in between the transports, "within pistolshot," called out to the enemy to "strike." "Ay, ay, I'll strike!" responded a voice from the largest vessel; and a terrific broadside instantly followed. The action was very severe, and lasted for an hour, when both British transports struck, and "The Defence" led away her prizes, containing nearly

two hundred British soldiers, with Lieut.-Col Campbell, commander of the regiment. She had eight men wounded; while the transports, besides many wounded, lost eighteen killed, including Major Menzies, who gave the defiant answer to the challenge of Capt. Harding. The next morning, "The Defence," notwithstanding she had suffered a good deal aloft, made sail, and, discovering a stranger, overhauled and captured her. She proved to be another transport with more than a hundred British soldiers; and these, with those taken by "The Doria," raised the number of prisoners from one of the best corps of the British army to about five hundred

men.

We now see the brave Capt. Wickes with his extemporized squadron sailing entirely around Ireland, and sweeping the seas of every craft not too heavy for him to engage; and then mournfully watch the gallant little "Lexington," as, at the close of a second hotly-contested engagement, she strikes her flag to the English "Alert;" and then see "The Reprisal," foundering upon the banks of Newfoundland, and the gallant Wickes, with every man on board but the cook, perishing in the water.

Presently Capt. Gustavus Conyngham appears amid the strife. He is in "The Surprise ;" and on the 7th of March, 1777, he dashes up to the Harwich packet "Prince of Orange," and captures her so suddenly, that he walks quietly down into her cabin, and salutes her commander and his passengers at breakfast. The captain, by this little transaction, became involved in a French intrigue, and was imprisoned, his cutter seized, and his prizes were released. English confidence in France was thus, for the time being, restored; and, with perfect assurance, vessels were sent to Dunkirk to convey Capt. Conyngham and his men to England to be "tried as pirates."

American enterprise had, however, forestalled this action. Another cutter was promptly purchased at Dunkirk. Capt. Conyngham and his people were ingeniously released; and,

on the 18th of July, they were out on the water in "The Revenge," a name terribly prophetic. She took prizes every day, many of which were soon placed to our credit on our account with Spain. Having suffered from a gale, artfully disguised, she slipped into an English port, and refitted, took in supplies in Ireland, made a cruise of unprecedented success among the English shipping, refitted in Ferrol, and sailed for home.

These daring movements in British waters made a sensation. Mr. Deane, writing to Robert Morris, says that the cruise of Capt. Wickes "effectually alarmed England, prevented the great fair at Chester, occasioned insurance to rise, and even deterred the English merchants from shipping goods in English bottoms at any rate; so that, in a few weeks, forty sail of French ships were loaded in the Thames with freight,- -an instance never before known." In the same letter, with regard to the exploits of Conyngham, he says, "In a word, Conyngham, by his first and second bold expeditions, is become the terror of all the eastern coast of England and Scotland, and is more dreaded than Thurot was in the late war."

Glancing back a little, we find Capt. Mugford in "The Franklin" capturing "The Hope," with "fifteen hundred barrels of powder and a large quantity of intrenching tools, guncarriages, and other stores," and taking his valuable prize into Boston" in sight of the British squadron." Then Capt. Robinson, in "The Sachem," fell in " with an English letter of marque, a Jamaica-man, and captured her after a sharp action;" and, as a reward for his bravery, he was made commander of the fine historic vessel "The Andrea Doria." She was a mischievous craft, and was so well known to the British navy, that "The Racehorse," twelve guns, Lieut. Jones, was sent out expressly to capture her. Off Porto Rico, Capt. Robinson saw the stranger bearing down upon him, and had hardly time to prepare for action before he received her broadside. A very sharp contest of nearly two hours fol

lowed, when the Englishman found herself fearfully crippled, her commander and a large number of her men being slain ; and she struck her colors to "The Andrea Doria." Capt. Robinson came safely and proudly into Philadelphia, leading as a prize "The Racehorse," sent defiantly out to capture him. The British could never have the satisfaction of making "good and lawful prize" of "The Andrea Doria." She had done her work, and was burnt by American orders, "when the evacuation of Fort Mifflin gave the British the command of the Delaware," into which they went, to be driven out after a terrible contest with galleys claiming those waters as their home.

We have now followed the young and rising American navy far enough to see, that, in the hands of Providence, our experimental people found themselves as much at home in war on the sea as on the land; that the American marines were a powerful arm of the Revolutionary service; and that the proud reliance of England on her naval strength was utterly vain against a power that could simultaneously create a navy, and command victories on an element for which the feeble colonists were supposed to be wholly unprepared. Here, on the sea as on the land, we see that "the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong;" but "God is the Judge. He putteth down one, and setteth up another." Let us now turn again to the land.

CORNWALLIS AND YORKTOWN.

Early in April, 1780, Lord Cornwallis appeared in command of the British army in the South. He was a fearless commander, and evidently indulged a feeling of contempt for American rebels. He sought for our little suffering army with the eagerness of a conqueror. He met them under command of Gates, near Camden, S.C., attacked them with impetuosity, and swept them from the field. Gates and Caswell were borne away by the flying volunteers; and

De Kalb, who stood firmly with his small band of continen

tals, fell, mortally wounded.

His men, taken in flank,
The army of Freedom left

broke, and fled for their lives. nine hundred dead on the field, and as many prisoners in the hands of the British. The track of their retreat, strewn with arms, knapsacks, and broken wagons, indicated a crushing defeat. Some three or four days after, Gates, the hero of Saratoga, found himself eighty miles from the scene of his disaster, at Charlotte, N.C., with only two hundred men. Would not this end the war in the South?

In the mean time, the daring Sumter had dashed into a convoy on its way to Cornwallis from the South, and captured it with two hundred prisoners; but Tarleton, a foe by whom he was well matched, moving with great celerity, rushed into his camp while his tired men in fancied security sought rest and refreshment, recaptured the British stores, released their prisoners, killed a hundred and fifty men, and took three hundred prisoners. The news of this disaster met Gates at Charlotte. What now was to prevent the abandonment of the struggle in complete despair? There was no American army worth the name in either of the Carolinas. Gates, stripped of his laurels, and fleeing from the foe he dared not meet, was, by order of Congress and appointment of Washington, superseded by Greene.

Cornwallis renewed his supplies, and, as a warning to others, hung a few Americans who had before, in their extremity, accepted British protection; then moved on with the spirit of a conqueror.

Marion, the bold partisan leader, came out from the swamps of the Pedee, and, dashing about amongst the Tories of the North-west district, made them very uncomfortable.

Sumter, though vanquished, was not yet dead. Gathering his scattered forces around him, and uniting them with a few from over the mountains, he soon showed that an heroic life survived the calamities of defeat.

Cornwallis moved on North to find a foe if he could, and