ships.

On the 22d of August they appeared in sight of Barney, who immediately destroyed his vessels, and fell back to join General Winder. The president of the United States, General Armstrong, secretary of war, and several other heads of departments, visited the camp at Marlborough, and decided on retreating toward the capital. Expecting the enemy to advance to the east branch of the Potomac, preparations were made for its defence; but it was discovered on the 24th that they were approaching Bladensburg. General Stansbury with two thousand two hundred Baltimore militia, who was on his way to the camp, was ordered back to that point, and was soon joined by General Winder and the main body. The president and heads of departments were present when the battle commenced, but they soon left the field, to secure the important documents in their offices, and hastened to Washington.

The enemy met a spirited resistance, and had indeed a sharp contest to maintain, while crossing the bridge, where their column was swept by the cannon of Commodore Barney from the redoubts, and while pressing up the successive swells crossed by the road. The thick forest on both sides was penetrated with difficulty, even in face of the small force opposed to them. Before long, however, the militia broke and fled in disorder; Com. Barney was wounded and made prisoner, and the day was decided.

The British army lost no time in advancing to Washington, where they met with no serious opposition; and there they set fire to the capitol and other public buildings, mutilated some of the

The enemy evacuated Washington on the evening of August 25th, and retired to their fleet, having lost two hundred and forty-nine, killed, at Bladensburg, and suffered a total loss, as is said, of four hundred killed and wounded, and about five hundred prisoners and deserters.

Anecdotes of General Washington.— The following may be here introduced. First, an account of the appointment of Washington to the supreme command of the continental army, June 18, 1775— from a private journal, narrating a conversation with John Adams, senior:

"The army was assembled at Cambridge, Massachusetts, under General Ward, and congress was sitting at Philadelphia. Every day new applications in behalf of the army arrived. The country were urgent that congress should legalize the raising of the army; as they had what must be considered, and was in law considered, only a mob-a band of armed rebels. The country was placed in circumstances of peculiar difficulty and danger. The struggle had begun, and yet everything was without order. The great trial now seemed to be in this question, Who shall be the commander-in-chief? It was exceedingly important, and was felt to be the hinge on which the contest might turn for or against us. The southern and the middle states, warm and rapid in their zeal, were for the most part jealous of New England, because they felt that the real physical force was there. What then was to be done? All New England adored General Ward: he had been in the French war, and went out laden with laurels. He was a scholar and a statesman. Every qualification seemed to cluster in him; and it was confidently believed that the army could not receive any appointment over him. What then was to be done? Difficulties thickened at every step. The struggle was to be long and bloody. Without union, all was lost. The country, and the whole country, must come in. One pulsation must beat through all hearts. The cause

was one, and the army must be one. The members had talked, debated, considered, and guessed, and yet the decisive step had not been taken. At length Mr. Adams came to his conclusion. The means of resolving it were somewhat singular, and nearly as follows: he was walking one morning before Congress hall, apparently in deep thought, when his cousin Samuel Adams came up to him and said :—

"What is the topic with you this morning?'

"Oh, the army, the army,' he replied. 'I'm determined to go into the hall, this morning, and enter on a full detail of the state of the colonies, in order to show an absolute need of taking some decisive steps. My whole aim will be, to induce congress to appoint a day for adopting the army as the legal army of these united colonies of North America, and then to hint at my election of a commander-in-chief.'

"Well,' said Samuel Adams, 'I like that, cousin John; but on whom have you fixed as that commander?'

"I will tell you-George Washington, of Virginia, a member of this house.' "Oh,' replied Samuel Adams, quickly, that will never do-never.'

"It must do it shall do,' said John, ' and for these reasons: the southern and middle states are both to enter heartily in the cause, and their arguments are potent: they say that New England holds the physical power in her hands, and they fear the result. A New England army, a New England commander, with New England perseverance, all united, appal them. For this cause they hang back. Now, the only course is to allay their fears, and give them nothing to complain of; and this can be done in no other way but by appointing a southern chief over this force, and then all rush to the standard. The policy will blend us in one mass, and that mass will 'be resistless.'

"At this Samuel Adams seemed to be greatly moved. They talked over the preliminary circumstances, and John asked his cousin to second the motion. Mr. Adams went in, took the floor, and put forth all his strength in the delinea

tions he had prepared, all aiming at the adoption of the army. He was ready to own the army, appoint a commander, vote supplies, and proceed to business. After his speech had been finished, some objected, and some feared. His warmth increased with the occasion, and to all these doubts and hesitations he replied thus:

"Gentlemen, if this ingress will not adopt this army before ten moons have set, New England will adopt it, and she will undertake the struggle alone— yes, with a strong arm and a clean conscience, she will front the foe singlehanded.'

"This had the desired effect. They saw New England was neither playing nor to be played with, and they agreed to appoint a day. A day was fixed: it came: Mr. Adams went in, took the floor, urged the measure, and after some debate it passed.

"The next thing was to get a commander for this army, with supplies, &c. All looked to Mr. Adams on the occasion, and he was ready. He then took the floor, and went into a minute delineation of the character of General Ward, bestowing on him the encomiums which then belonged to no one else. At the end of the eulogy, he said: 'But this is not the man I have chosen.' He then went into the delineation of the character of a commander-in-chief, such as was required by the peculiar situation of the colonies at that juncture. And after he had presented the qualifications in his strongest language, and given the reasons for the nomination he was about to make, he said :—

"Gentlemen, I know these qualifications are high, but we all know they are needful, at this crisis, in this chief. Does any one say they are not to be obtained in this country? In reply, I have to say they are; they reside in one of our own body, and he is the person whom I now nominate-GEORGE WASHINGTON, or Virginia.'

"Washington, who sat on Mr. Adams' right hand, was looking him intently in the face, to watch the name he was about to announce, and, not expecting it would be his, sprang from his seat the

minute he heard it, and rushed into an adjoining room. Mr. Adams had asked his cousin Samuel to ask for an adjournment as soon as the nomination was made, in order to give the members time to deliberate and the result is before the world.

“I asked Mr. Adams, among other questions, the following:

"Did you ever doubt of the success of the conflict?'

"No, no,' said he, not for a moment. I expected to be hung and quartered, if I was caught; but no matter for that-my country would be free; I knew George the Third could not forge chains long enough and strong enough to reach around these United States." " In the early days of the republic, it was customary for the president to meet the two houses of congress, on their assembling, and make them a speech, instead of sending in a formal, carefully-written message as now. Various reasons conspired to bring about the change-reasons of convenience which will occur on reflection to every mind, and which it is needless now to specify. We allude to the matter as necessary to a better understanding of the extract below. This extract is taken from a long and very interesting communication in the National Intelligencer, the anniversary of Washington's birthday. The writer describes Washington as he saw him at the opening of congress in Philadelphia.

"I stood on a stone platform, before the door of the hall, elevated by a few steps from the pavement, when the carriage of the president drew up. It was white, or rather of a light cream-color, painted on the panels with beautiful groups, by Cipriani, representing the four seasons. The horses, according to my recollection, were white, in unison with the carriage. As he alighted, and, ascending the steps, paused upon the platform, looking over his shoulder, in an attitude that would have furnished an admirable subject for the pencil, he was preceded by two gentlemen bearing long white wands, who kept back the crowd that pressed on every side to get a nearer view. At that moment

I stood so near I might have touched his clothes; but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. I was penetrated with a veneration, amounting to the deepest awe. Nor was this the feeling of a schoolboy only; it pervaded, I believe, every human being that approached Washington; and I have been told, that, even in his social and convivial hours, this feeling in those who were honored to share them, never suffered intermission. I saw him a hundred times afterward, but never with any other than that same feeling.

"The Almighty, who raised up for our hour of need a man so peculiarly prepared for its whole dread responsibility, seems to have put an impress of sacredness upon his own instrument. The first sight of the man struck the heart with involuntary homage, and prepared everything around him to obey. When he addressed himself to speak,' there was an unconscious suspension of the breath, while every eye was raised in expectation. At the time I speak of, he stood in profound silence, and had that statue-like air which mental greatness alone can bestow. As he turned to enter the building, and was ascending the staircase leading to the congressional hall, I glided in, unperceived, almost under cover of the skirts of his dress, and entered instantly after him into the lobby of the house, which was of course in session to receive him. On either hand, from the entrance, stood a large cast-iron stove; and, resolved to secure the unhoped-for privilege I had so unexpectedly obtained, I clambered, boylike, on this stove-fortunately then not much heated-and, from that favorable elevation, enjoyed for the first time (what I have since so many thousands of times witnessed with comparative indifference) an uninterrupted view of the American congress in full session, every member in his place. Shall I be pardoned for saying its aspect was very different from what we now witness? There was an air of decorum, of composure, of reflection, of gentlemanly and polished dignity, which has fled, or lingers with here and there a 'relic of the olden time.'

"The house seemed then as

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