fords above him, received the following note from Lieutenant-Colonel Ross:

"Great Valley Road, 11 o'clock, A. M.

DEAR GENERAL,-A large body of the enemy, from every account five thousand, with sixteen or eighteen field-pieces, marched along this road just now. This road leads to Taylor's Ferry, and Jeffrey's Ferry on the Brandywine, and to the Great Valley at the sign of the Ship, on the Lancaster Road to Philadelphia. There is also a road from the Brandywine to Chester, by Dilworthstown. We are close in their rear with about seventy men. Captain Simpson lay in ambush with twenty men, and gave them three rounds within a small distance, in which two of his men were wounded, one mortally, I believe. General Howe is with this party, as Joseph Galloway is here known by the inhabitants, with whom he spoke and told them that General Howe was with him. Yours, JAMES ROSS, Lieutenant-Colonel.

Here was accurate information from a responsible officer, and every road designated by him should have been secured beyond the Brandywine. Ross had seen the army, nay, fired into it, and was steadily following it in its rapid march up the river. Its destination was apparent to the most casual observer, and how, after such information, Sullivan could allow himself to be surprised by an army of five thousand men, dragging a heavy train of artillery after them baffles all explanation.

Washington immediately penetrated Howe's design, and resolved to defeat it by sending Sullivan to occupy him, while he, with the rest of the army, would cross over, and falling on Knyphausen in rear and front at the same time, crush him before the other division could arrive. This daring resolution was the inspiration of true genius, and had it been carried into effect, Brandywine would doubtles have been another Saratoga to the British. He issued his orders

at once, and riding along the lines to animate the troops, was received with loud huzzas; and "long live Washington," rolled over the field. General Greene was ordered to lead the advance, and crossing above Knyphausen assail him in Yank and rear. In a few minutes the field was alive with the marching columns. At this critical moment another nid came galloping in from Sullivan, who reported no enemy around the forks of the Brandywine. This was a fatal mistake, and Washington immediately reversed his orders, and the army again took up its former position. It was now high noon, and Knyphausen having received dispatches fron Cornwallis announcing that the river was won, opened on the Americans with a tremendous discharge of artillery and musketry, so as still more to confirm the delusion under which he saw Washington was evidently laboring.

In the meantime Cornwallis had formed his troops on the banks of the stream, and was coming rapidly down on Sullivan's flank.

A Squire Cheney, reconnoitering on his own responsibility the movements of the enemy, suddenly came upon the advance as he was ascending a hill. He immediately wheeled his horse, a fleet, high-spirited animal, and dashed away toward head-quarters. Shots were fired at him, but he escaped and reached the American army in safety. To his startling declaration that the main body of the enemy was on his own side of the stream, and coming rapidly down upon him, Washington replied that it was impossible, for he had just received contrary information. "You are mistaken General, my life for it you are mistaken," exclaimed Cheney, and carried away by the great peril that threatened the Americans, added, "By h-ll it is so; put me under guard until you find my story true," and, stooping down, he drew a rough draft of the road in the sand. In a few moments a hurried note from Sullivan confirmed the disastrous tidings. The enemy were only two miles from the Birmingham

Meeting-House, which was but three miles from Chads' Ford. Washington saw at once the fatal error into which he had been beguiled by the false information of Sullivan, and saw, too, that in all human probability the day was lost. Suddenly calling to his side his aids, he asked if there was any one near acquainted with the country, who could guide him by the shortest route to Birmingham Meeting-House. An elderly man named Brown, living in the vicinity, was instantly seized and asked to act as guide. He began to make excuses, when one of Washington's aids, mounted on a splendid charger, leaped to the ground and told the old man to mount at once, and conduct the General by the shortest, quickest route to the meeting-house, or he would run him through with his sword. Alarmed by the threat, Brown mounted and pushed straight across the country, his high-bred animal taking the fences in his course like a hunter. Washington with his suite pressed after, and though the old man seemed to fly over the fields and fences, the head of Washington's horse constantly lapped the flank of the animal he rode, and there rung continually in his ears from the excited, anxious chieftain by his side, "Push along old man; push along old man." The fate of his army was trembling in the balance, and no fleetness could equal his burning impatience to be at the point where it was so soon to be decided, for already the loud roar of cannon and rattle of musketry ahead, told him that the shock had come. The tremendous cannonading at Chads' Ford, blending in with that around Birmingham Meeting-House, needed no additional confirmation of the deep disaster that had overtaken him. As he approached the scene of conflict the balls fell so thick around him that the old man stole away. His absence was unnoticed, for his services were no longer needed; the roar of battle and shouts of men were a sufficient guide. When Washington first set out he had ordered Greene to advance with his division, as fast as possible, to