Airey. The sudden cry of " to arms," the shrill blast of the bugle and roll of drums showed that Washington had pounced upon them unawares. The pickets being reinforced, made a stand, till Sullivan, with the main body, advancing, drove them back. He then left the road and began to cross the fields. But being compelled to fling down every fence as he advanced, which also furnished a rallying point to the enemy, his progress was slow.

He, however, kept steadily on, and at length came up with the left wing of the enemy, drawn up in order of battle, and a close and murderous conflict commenced. Washington all this time was moving along the main road with the rear of the army. Hearing the heavy firing in advance, he knew that Sullivan was warmly engaged. As it continued without any cessation, he became anxious, for he knew that the troops had only about fifty rounds of ammunition, and turning to Colonel Pickering, he exclaimed, "I am afraid General Sullivan is throwing away his ammunition; ride forward and tell him to preserve it." Pickering dashed off on a gallop, and delivered his message. "Shoulder arms," passed along the American line-" Forward, march,' followed, and the whole line, with shouldered pieces, moved steadily up to the enemy, who, struck with astonishment, recoiled. Wayne, with his division, kept on his terrible way, bearing down all opposition. The fog was so thick that the opposing lines could not see each other till within a few rods, and hence fired at each other's volleys, and charged where the last blaze was seen. Wayne, carried away by his eagerness and daring, was riding gallantly at the head of his column when he was struck in the foot by a ball-a second grazed his hand, a third and fourth pierced his horse, and he sunk to the earth. Springing to his feet, he shouted, "Forward," and sweeping the field before him, carried confusion into the whole British army, so that it threatened momentarily to break and fly. But Colonel

Musgrave, commanding the British centre, threw himself with a body of men into a large stone building, called Chew's house, and having barricaded the lower story, opened a destructive fire of musketry from the upper windows. Here, while the battle was roaring further and further away in the gloom, Washington, with several of his officers, halted to consult on the best course to be pursued.

Grouped together in front of an old stone building that loomed dimly through the mist, they let the precious moments pass, while they discussed the propriety of pushing on without first reducing Chew's house. Knox loudly insisted on halting the army till the house could be summoned to surrender. The younger officers opposed this course as ruinous. "It is unmilitary," exclaimed Knox, "to leave a castle in our rear." "What," replied Hamilton and Reed, "call this a castle, and lose the happy moment!" Hamilton and Lee and Pickering earnestly, almost fiercely insisted on pushing rapidly forward. "Leave a regiment here," said they, "to take care of them, and this will be all-sufficient." Knox, however, whose opinion had great weight with Washington, prevailed, and Lieutenant Smith, of Virginia, was sent forward with a flag. The enemy paid no attention to it, but continued to fire, and Smith, struck down by a musketball, was borne, mortally wounded, to the rear. A brisk cannonade was then opened on the building, but the pieces being only six pounders, they could produce no effect. Wayne's division, which till this moment had carried everything before it, hearing the heavy firing in the rear, supposed very naturally that they had been cut off by the enemy, and immediately fell back. This uncovered Sullivan s left, that was pressing on nearly abreast. The British, who had begun to look about for a safe retreat, no sooner saw themselves relieved from the presence of Wayne's division, than they wheeled on the flank of Sullivan's. About this time also, the distant firing of Greene, which had been

very heavy and constant, suddenly ceased, for want of ammunition. Being compelled to countermarch his division, as he found the enemy so differently posted from what he had been told, he was unable to commence his attack till long after the appointed time. Armstrong had come in sight of the enemy and halted, apparently engrossed in listening to the tremendous explosions that burst on every side from the dense fog. Still a portion of Sullivan's left wing kept on through the forsaken encampments, and past the deserted tents, driving the enemy for two miles before them, and finally drew up within some six hundred yards of a large body rapidly forming in a lane, though scarcely visible from the dense fog. Colonel Matthews, from Greene's livision, here got entangled amid the houses, and before he could escape was attacked on three sides at once, by three times his number. Thus encompassed, he stood and fought like a lion, charging at the head of his troops with a desperation and valor that astonished friends and foes, till nearly his whole command was killed or wounded, when he and a hundred men surrendered themselves prisoners. This, together with the failure of ammunition, completed the disaster the cry arose on all sides that the enemy was surrounding them, and the whole army recoiled in disorder to Chew's house, and past it. The assailed at once became the assailants, and charging on the broken ranks with loud shouts, drove them back over the dead and dying. The scene now became one of indescribable confusion. Officers galloped around the broken squads, in the vain effort to rally them, while Washington, fully aroused to the extent of the danger which threatened him, spurred among the fugitives, and by his personal daring, and apparently reckless exposure of life, held a portion of the troops to the shock. His voice sounded over the din of battle, and his form glanced like a meteor through the smoke and fog that enveloped the field. Catching a glimpse of him sitting in the