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 ev edition against Stony Point, on the Hudson, which was held by the British. Gen. Wayne conducted the enterprise, on the ni of the 15th of July, with great gallantry 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.

cans.

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 AmeriAt 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."

This glorious capture roused hope and vigor all over the country. The British cabinet became disheartened by our indomitable perseverance. The darkness of the long night was passing away. The day after the capitulation, Washington devoutly issued the following order to the army:

"Divine service is to be performed to-morrow in the several brigades and divisions. The commander-in-chief earnestly recommends that the troops not on duty should universally attend, with that seriousness of deportment, and gratitude of heart, which the recognition of such reiterated and astonishing interpositions of Providence demands of us."

The joyful tidings reached Philadelphia at midnight. A watchman traversed the streets, shouting at intervals, "Past twelve o'clock, and a pleasant morning. Cornwallis is taken!"

These words rang upon the ear almost like the trump which wakes the dead. Candles were lighted; windows thrown up; figures in night-robes and night-caps bent eagerly out to catch the thrilling sound; shouts were raised; citizens rushed into the streets, half clad, - they wept; they laughed. The news flew upon the wings of the wind, nobody can tell how; and the shout of an enfranchised people rose, like a roar of thunder, from our whole land. With France for an ally, and with such a victory, the question was now settled, and forever, that republican America would never again yield to the aristocratic government of England.

Though the fury of the storm was over, the billows of war had not yet subsided. Washington, late in November, 1781, again retired to winter-quarters. He urged Congress to make preparations for the vigorous prosecution of the war in the spring, as the most effectual means of securing a speedy and an honorable peace. The conviction was now so general that the war was nearly at an end, that with difficulty ten thousand men were marshalled in the The army, disheartened by the apparent inefficiency of Congress, for Congress had really but very little power, being then only a collection of delegates from independent States, very emphatically expressed the wish that Washington would assume the supreme command of the government, and organize the country into a constitutional kingdom, with himself at the head.

camp.

But Washington was a republican. He believed that the people of this country, trained in the science of legislation, religious in their habits, and intelligent, were abundantly capable of gov

erning themselves. almost indignantly.

He repelled the suggestion promptly, and

Early in May, the British cabinet opened negotiations for peace. Hostilities were, by each party, tacitly laid aside. Negotiations were protracted in Paris during the summer and the ensuing winter. Washington had established his headquarters at Newburg, on the Hudson, and was busy in consolidating the interests of our divided and distracted country. A government of republican liberty, and yet of efficiency, was to be organizad; and its construction required the highest energies of every thinking mind.

It was also necessary to keep the army ever ready for battle; for a new conflict might, at any moment, break out. Thus the summer and winter of 1782 passed away.

The snow was still lingering in the laps of the Highlands when the joyful tidings arrived that a treaty of peace had been signed at Paris. The intelligence was communicated to the American army on the 19th of April, 1783,-just eight years from the day when the conflict was commenced on the common at Lexington. England had, for eight years, deluged this land with blood and woe. Thousands had perished on the gory field of battle; thousands had been beggared; thousands had been made widows and orphans, and doomed to a life-long wretchedness. It was the fearful price which America paid for independence.

Late in November, the British evacuated New York, entered their ships, and sailed for their distant island. Washington, marching from West Point, entered the city as our vanquished foes departed. It was a joyful day, and no untoward incident marred its festivities. America was free and independent. Washington was the savior of his country.

And now the day arrived when Washington was to take leave of his companions in arms, tó retire to his beloved retreat at Mount Vernon. The affecting interview took place on the 4th of December. Washington, with a flushed cheek and a swimming eye, entered the room where the principal officers of his army were assembled. His voice trembled with emotion as he said,

"With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will come and take me by the hand."