as if it had been a regular and first-rate fortress. No want of material was now felt, for Laurens and Paine in Paris had induced the French to grant a subsidy, and to guarantee a loan from the Dutch of ten millions.

On the night of the 6th of October the French and Americans began casting up their first parallel within six hundred yards of Cornwallis's lines, and they worked with so much silence and expedition, that the besieged were said not to have known what they were about till they saw in the morning the trenches so far advanced as to cover the enemy. By the 9th of October their trenches and batteries were completed, and that afternoon they opened a tremendous fire on the town. For two days they kept up an incessant roar of heavy cannon, and with howitzers and mortars threw showers of shells into the place. Cornwallis replied to them with vigour, but he found many of his guns on the left silenced, and his works greatly damaged. These shells set fire to the Charon, a forty-four gun ship, posted, with some others, to defend the passage between York Town and Gloucester, and consumed it, with three large transports.

On the night of the 11th the enemy began their second parallel within three hundred yards of the lines. This work went on rapidly, for the whole army (nearly eighteen thousand in number), besides a swarm of seamen from the ships, and a vast crowd of slaves and country people, laboured at it. In its progress, for three days, Cornwallis committed much havoc amongst them by opening fresh embrasures for guns, and pouring an incessant shower upon them of balls and shells. Two redoubts on the left flank of the British more particularly annoyed them, and Washington determined to carry these by storm. To excite the more emulation, he committed execution of this escalade in one case to Americans, in the other to the French, but French officers headed both-La Fayette leading up one, the baron de Viominil the other. These redoubts had been hastily thrown up, and had but a mere handful of men in each, but they were so stoutly defended that more men were killed in gaining them than there were within them. Of course they were carried, and their guns then turned on York Town. The situation of lord Cornwallis was now growing desperate. Anxiously every day he was looking out for some intelligence of the promised relief. None came. To check the progress of the besiegers, who were fast silencing his guns and demolishing his works, he caused a sortie of three hundred and fifty men to be made, under the direction of lieutenant-colonel Abercrombie, before daybreak of the 16th, to destroy two of the batteries which, manned by French troops, were doing the most mischief. Abercrombie led on his men bravely, and was as bravely supported by major Lake. They drove the French from the guns, and spiked some of them, besides killing one hundred of the enemy, and, assailed by overwhelming numbers, regained their lines with very little loss. But the service done was of little consequence. The guns were so hastily spiked that they were soon made fit for use again, and lord Cornwallis himself states, that "before dark the enemy's whole parallel and batteries appeared to be nearly complete. At this time," he says, "we knew that there was no part of the whole front attacked in which we could show a single gun,

and our shells were nearly exhausted. I had therefore only to choose between preparing to surrender the next day, or endeavouring to get off with the greater part of the troops; and I determined to attempt the latter."

Having conceived this desperate scheme of endeavouring to escape, Cornwallis that night wrote to Sir Henry Clinton, in cypher, telling him not to risk fleet or army in the endeavour to rescue them. He was sure that something had prevented the fleet sailing at the time proposed, and he sought to steal away with the bulk of his army, leaving a small number to capitulate for the town. To add to his other misfortunes, sickness was raging in his camp, but he hoped, by attacking the French under De Choisi, before Gloucester, and cutting his way through them, to mount the majority of his men on the horses taken from the enemy or seized from the country people, and thus make a rapid flight across the river fords, through Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New York. The idea, with such troops of wellmounted cavalry at his heels, was a wild one, and there were other obstacles in the way. He must first ferry his troops across the river to Gloucester, and, as he had not vessels enough to carry all at once, he had sent over part of them, when a violent storm arose, and prevented the return of the boats. This was decisive. With his forces thus divided, he had scarcely soldiers enough to man the guns in York Town, and there was nothing left but to surrender.

Accordingly, on the morning of the 17th, he sent a flag of truce to Washington, proposing a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four hours, in order that commissioners might meet and settle the terms of surrender. Washington replied that he was anxious to spare the further effusion of blood; but that, under the circumstances, he could not grant more than two hours for lord Cornwallis to decide on his proposals, at the end of which time, if these were not received, the firing would recommence. At half-past four lord Cornwallis wrote that the time was too short to settle all conditions, but he submitted the following:-that the garrisons of York Town and Gloucester should be prisoners of war, with the customary honours; that they should all be sent home under engagement not to serve against the Americans or their allies during the remainder of the war; and that the officers should, as usual, retain their side-arms, and the private property of both officers and soldiers, as well as of all private persons, should be respected; moreover, that all individuals in civil capacities connected with the British should be exempt from punishment on that account. On the morning of the 18th, Washington replied that the article respecting the sending of the British prisoners home could not be complied with; they must be sent to certain places in Virginia, Maryland, or Pennsylvania during the war, except the general staff, or other officers not left with the troops, who might go to New York or home on parole. He added, as if in mockery, that the prisoners would receive that benevolent treatment which was invariably observed by the Americans. The thoughts of Cornwallis must have reverted to the treatment of British prisoners in New England, New York, and other places, and whilst be was stipulating for the sending home of the troops surrendered, he could not forget that the stipulation for the soldiers of Burgoyne had been utterly disregarded by the congress, and that these

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Washington also declared the article regarding the civilians inadmissible, as they must be left to the civil power. As it was useless to stand out for the transfer of the prisoners home, which congress would probably set aside as coolly as they had done in the case of Burgoyne's treaty, lord Cornwallis gave that up, but made another effort to preserve the royalists from the vengeance of their countrymen. He claimed, as a compensation for surrendering Gloucester in its present uninjured state, the privilege of sending the Bonetta sloop of war to New York with dispatches to Sir Henry Clinton, the vessel to pass out unsearched and to carry as many soldiers as he should think fit to send. This, to save time (for the Americans were still afraid that the English fleet might arrive and snatch their prey from them) was assented to, and thus lord Cornwallis was enabled to ship as soldiers the most obnoxious of the royalists in the place. The vessel was to be returned.

On these conditions the surrender was arranged, and the articles of surrender were signed by the respective generals on the morning of the 19th of October. There was one article in the capitulation which would appear superfluous without an explanation. It was, that "any property, obviously belonging to the inhabitants of these states, found in the possession of the garrison, shall be subject to be reclaimed." But the "property" in question meant the blacks who had escaped from their masters in Virginia, and taken refuge with the English. Washington was not so confirmed in the persuasion of his countrymen of the present day, who regard slavery as a divine institution, as to venture to reclaim these slaves in any less ambiguous language. It was, moreover, decided that the soldiers and all their artillery, arms, money, shot, and stores should be surrendered to the Americans; the ships and seamen to the French.

At two o'clock, therefore, on the morning of the 19th of October, the York Town troops marched out with their drums beating, their muskets shouldered, and their colours cased, and piled their arms. The number of those who remained effective now amounted only to four thousand; the rest, making up the total number to about six thousand, were lying sick or wounded. General Lincoln, who had been so lately a prisoner to the English, was appointed to receive them, and the British prisoners had to march through two lines of the allied army, upwards of a mile in length, the Americans on the right, and the French on the left. Washington, with his usual magnanimity, did all he could to diminish the humiliation of the captive garrison. He ordered all mere spectators to absent themselves. Yet, to pass through such an avenue of exulting enemies was mortification enough for Englishmen, who had beaten their enemies whenever they had found them, even when only one-half of their number themselves, but had now been left to be overwhelmed by a perfect horde. The different feelings with which the English regarded the French and Americans was remarked by the abbé Robin, who was present. The English officers, as they passed along the enemy's lines, courteously saluted every French officer-a compliment which they withheld from every American one, even the highest. The French, in fact, in all their transac

On this occasion, where they were in the immediate presence and power of Washington, their behaviour was better; but even then the superior tone of the French was strikingly obvious. Lord Cornwallis, writing to Sir Henry Clinton, said, "The treatment, in general, that we have received from the enemy since our surrender has been perfectly good and proper; but the kindness and attention that have been shown us by the French officers in particular their delicate sensibility of our situation-their generous and pressing offer of money, both public and private, to any amount has really gone beyond what I can possibly describe, and will, I hope, make an impression on the breast of every English officer, whenever the fortune of war should put any of them into our power."

But even "the perfectly good and proper" conduct of the Americans did not extend to the women and children of the English army who were left in York Town. These, who, especially under the circumstances, would in generous minds have excited peculiar sympathy and forbearance, were treated with the greatest harshness and rudeness by them. Abbé Robin, in his "Voyage en Amerique," p. 141, describes the sufferings of the English left in York Town from the Americans. He says, "I saw the lady of an English colonel come with tears to implore our officers to give her a guard to protect herself and children from the violence of the American soldiery."

About five hundred men were reported as killed and wounded in this affair of York Town on each side. Cornwallis's large train of artillery, which included many fine brass guns, his arms, ammunition, military and other stores, were a valuable prize for the Americans; as for the French, they got only one frigate, two sloops of war, and a few transports.

The exultation which the news of the capture of Cornwallis's army spread throughout America may be imagined. The Americans are as famous for boasting as the Gascons themselves, and they gave full scope to this characteristic on this occasion. It was the very first triumph which, by the help of the French, they had achieved, and the congress, in particular, seemed beside itself. It spent its time for a considerable period in nothing but voting thanks, and planning monuments to eternalise the event. Thanks were voted to Washington, to Rochambeau, to La Fayette, who was also made a field-marshal of France by his own king for his share in this transaction; thanks, too, were voted to De Grasse, and all officers, naval and military, and especially to the corps of artillery and engineers. A column was voted to be erected at York Town in commemoration of the event, to be decorated with the arms of France and America, and an inscription detailing the surrender of lord Cornwallis. They also decreed a procession of congress to

the Dutch Lutheran church, to return thanks to Divine Providence for this signal intervention in their favour, and finally they ordered a general thanksgiving on the 13th of December.

On the English side, of course, there was much mutual

accusation and recrimination. Lord Cornwallis blamed Şir

Henry Clinton, and Sir Henry blamed lord Cornwallis, for having ventured into Virginia with so small a force. But, first and foremost, it is clear that the British government was the great cause of this, as of every failure, by its marvellous neglect of supplying a proper fleet and army from the magnificent resources granted at home. Next, the blame must rest on Sir Henry Clinton, who, well aware of the urgent nature of the circumstances, and of the fatal consequences of the capture of Cornwallis's army, put forth so little energy to prevent it. He promised to embark his troops on the 5th of October, and this was not effected till the 19th, the very day on which Cornwallis was compelled to capitulate. But here, again, as is always the case in these failures, he shifted the blame to admiral Graves, and the fleet, which could not be got ready. In short, the same moral and intellectual paralysis weighed on our commanders, which so peculiarly distinguished them through the whole of this war. The only one who appears to have conducted himself with any energy, and who, with a proper force, would have triumphed, was lord Cornwallis. Clinton himself had accompanied the troops in the fleet of admiral Graves; but, on arriving at the Cape of Virginia, rumours reached them of the surrender. They proceeded, however, to the mouth of the Chesapeake, but had no inclination for attacking De Grasse, and so returned again to New York. Had they been in time, they could, according to Sir Henry Clinton's own account, and that founded on the unanimous opinion of the naval officers, have brought off the army from York Town in spite of the French fleet.

The surrender of Cornwallis's army was, in fact, the determining point of the war. Nothing after this did or could prevent the ultimate issue in favour of the independence of America; but the contest was yet destined for a considerable time to drag its slow and insignificant length along. The news of this decisive event reached London on the 25th of November. It seemed to come upon the ministers as a thunder-clap; though it is difficult to imagine, with such a miserable amount of force in the American states, what else they could expect. Lord North walked about the room, exclaiming, "Oh, God! it is all over!" The king received the communication with more firmness. In Paris great was the exultation. Franklin, who was there, and who, only three days before, had written to governor Pownall that he never expected to see "this accursed war" finished in his time, now wrote to John Adams, at the Hague :—“I congratulate you on this glorious news. The infant Hercules, in his cradle, has now strangled his second serpent;" and so delighted was he with his conceit of the serpent, that he afterwards had a medal cast embodying it.

Whilst Cornwallis had been contending with the combined army of France and America on the Chesapeake, lord Rawdon had been engaged with equal activity against general Greene and his coadjutors, in South Carolina. Towards the end of April, he had gone in search of Greene, who was encamped behind Twenty-five-mile Creek. Greene retreated on his approach; but in May, that general detached a part of his force to lay siege to Fort Augusta, in Upper Georgia, and marched himself to attack the Fort of Ninety-six. The fort of Augusta, having but a small

garrison, very little artillery, and no shells, was, after a brave resistance, compelled to surrender; but Greene himself met with a different reception at Ninety-six. There, lieutenant-colonel Cruger made repeated and despe rate sallies, killing many of Greene's men. The siege was continued from the middle of May till the 8th of June, when the weather was becoming intensely hot. Colonel Lee then arrived with the British prisoners who had surrendered at Fort Augusta, and paraded them before the fort with martial music, and a British banner reversed. This insult, which was intended to lower the spirit of the English garrison, only roused it to more determination. The following night, the garrison made another sally, killed many men, and scattered more, and returned with little loss within their defences. Lord Rawdon was now marching rapidly to their relief, spite of the heat, and Greene again decamped. Lord Rawdon arrived on the 21st of June, and went in pursuit of Greene as far as the river Ennora; but the American general was too nimble for him. Lord Rawdon then abandoned the fort of Ninety-six, as too remote from head-quarters to be maintained to any purpose, and sent off part of his army to convey the royalist inhabitants to his camp at Monk's Corner. Greene, hearing that he had divided his army, wheeled about once more; but, finding the army united again, retreated into the hills of Santee. One division of his army, under Sumter, Marion, and Lee, attacked Monk's Corner, but were defeated, and both sides then ceased operations on account of the summer heats. Lord Rawdon, whose health was much impaired by his exertions in this climate, took his leave for Europe, but was captured by De Grasse's fleet, and remained a prisoner on the Chesapeake, where he was at the surrender of York Town.

Just as lord Rawdon was leaving, a circumstance occurred which roused intensely the indignation of the Americans. A colonel Hayne, who had sworn allegiance to the British arms, went over again to the enemy, and was taken, not only in arms, but with a colonel Williamson, of the royal militia, in his hands. According to the regular rules of war, he was thereupon condemned by a court-martial to be hanged. Much interest was made by the inhabitants of Charlestown, both royalist and republican, to save him. The ladies of Charlestown presented a petition on his behalf, and the prisoner's children, with some of his relations, entreated for his life. But it was deemed necessary to make an example of one of these frequent turncoats, who were very ready to accept British protection, and swear allegiance when it was convenient, and, on the first opportunity, turned round and fought against us. By the strict rules of war, he might have been hanged up instanter with out any court-martial at all. But as soon as general Greene heard of the execution, he issued a proclamation in most violent terms, denouncing it as an atrocious murder and "inhuman insult," and threatening the most extensive retaliation. Everywhere the Americans cried out loudly in the same strain, in the face of the treatment of André, who was seized and hanged when travelling under protection of a pass from one of their own generals, in face of the recent massacre in cold blood of two hundred American royalists whom they met in arms, and in face of the proclamation