with their scarlet uniforms, while groups of officers collected here and there betokened earnest consultation as to the best method of attack. Their progress was slow, for the fields were intersected with rough stone walls, which had to be pulled down to make way for the heavy artillery, that could with difficulty be got over the uneven ground. Besides, skirmishing parties took advantage of these walls and clumps of bushes to annoy the advance detachments of the British, and prevent them from clearing a path for the artillery. Slowly, however, and steadily the heavy columns. swept on, while Washington, no longer placing any reliance on the militia, awaited with much misgiving and apprehension the final shock.

At this critical juncture, Howe, paused in his march to carry Chatterton's Hill, on which M'Dougall had been placed with fifteen hundred men, assisted by Alexander Hamilton. This hill was separated from the main army by the Bronx, which flowed in front of the American lines. The stream however was fordable here, so that the brigade could easily· fall back on the main body. When the artillery got within range, Howe opened at once with twelve or fifteen pieces, whose echoes rolled like thunder along the heights, carrying consternation to the hearts of the militia. A ball having struck a soldier in the thigh, mangling him badly, the whole regiment turned and fled. Colonel Haslet could not induce his troops to drag forward the field pieces, so as to sweep the ascending columns. Only one was manned, and this so poorly that the colonel was compelled to seize the drag-ropes himself. As they were trundling it slowly to the front, one of the enemy's balls struck the carriage, scattering the shot in every direction and setting fire to a wad of tow. In an instant the piece was abandoned in terror. Only one man had the courage to remain and tread out the fire and collect the shot. By dint of great exertion the colonel was able to fire a couple of shots, when the men ran away,

dragging their single cannon after them. Hamilton, however, with two guns in battery, coolly swept the slope, car rying away whole platoons that attempted to ascend. But the militia most of them soon disappeared, leaving M'Dougall with only six hundred to sustain the unequal conflict. This he did for an hour, and then slowly and in good order, carrying his artillery and baggage with him, retreated across the Bronx and took post within the lines. The whole British force, thirteen thousand strong, now drew up within long cannon shot of the American works, and an immediate assault was expected. All night long the soldiers stood to their arms, awaiting the order to advance. At length the long wished for October morning dawned, when Howe with his glass examined critically the American intrenchments. They seemed so formidable and the position so admirably chosen, that he concluded to defer the attack till the arrival of Lord Percy, already on his way with reinforcements. Providence here interfered again for the salvation of the American army. Those formidable breastworks, which reminded Lord Howe of Bunker Hill and Dorchester Heights, were the merest sham, being composed of nothing but corn stalks covered with sods and a little loose earth, which his artillery would have scattered like a bank of autumnal foliage. Had he advanced directly on them, instead of stopping to carry the really strong position of Chatterton's Hill, he would without doubt have defeated the American army. Instead of this he had brought on only a partial battle, with the loss of some three or four hundred on either side.

At length, on the evening of the 30th, Lord Percy arrived with four battalions, and Howe resolved to storm the American works early in the morning. Washington, apprised of the arrival of this heavy reinforcement, determined at once to abandon his position and retire farther toward the Highlands. But a heavy storm of wind and rain set in that

night and continued all next day and evening, suspending the operations of both armies. Anticipating the necessity of a further retreat, Washington had cast up intrenchments upon the heights of North Castle, near the Croton river, and on the night of the 31st, while the English host was wrapt in slumber, and the fragmentary clouds were sweeping darkly over the Highlands, through which the north-west wind rushed with the roar of the sea, cautiously led his untrained bands out of the encampment. Some one had set fire to the village of White Plains, and while the flames, fanned by the fierce blast, wrapped the dwellings and church, and shed a lurid light over the landscape, Washington was rapidly defiling over the broken country, and by morning was snug in his new position, which looked down a hundred feet on the Bronx below.

After a careful examination of the new position occupied by Washington, Howe concluded not to attack him, but return to New York and push his operations in another quarter. During Washington's retreat Fort Washington had been left far in the rear, and was now completely cut off from the main army. Colonel Magaw commanded here, and began to make the best preparations in his power for defense. Washington considering the fort no longer tenable urged the necessity of evacuating it at once. But in a full council of war it was decided best to defend the place, and although Washington as commander-in-chief had power to overrule this decision, he was unwilling to incur the responsibility of doing so, especially as future results, whatever they might be, could in no way prove that he had acted discreetly. Had things been reversed, and he been in favor of holding the fort, and when the council opposed it, overruled their decision, then the fate of the fort would have shown whether his judgment was correct or not. Greene, in whom he had great confidence, was placed in command of the troops in that quarter, and he unhesita

tingly declared that the fort could and should be held. Washington therefore left the whole matter discretionary with him, though clearly expressing his opinion about it.

In the meantime, while the British army were closing around this place, Washington saw that after its fall the next move would in all probability be against New Jersey, and, if successful, end in an attack on Philadelphia. He therefore ordered five thousand men to assemble at Hackensack, to be under his immediate command, while he sepa rated the other portion of the army into two divisions-one under Heath to occupy both sides of the river in the Highlands and defend its passes--the other, four thousand strong, under Lee, to keep the camp near White Plains, and to act as circumstances might demand. Washington having visited the posts in the Highlands, hastened to Hackensack, where his troops, after a circuitous march of sixty miles, had assembled. Filled with anxiety for the fate of the garrison in Fort Washington, he hurried back to Fort Lee nearly opposite on the Jersey shore, to ascertain how matters stood. It was late at night when he arrived, but leaping into a boat he ordered the rowers to pull him across to the American works. When part way over he met a boat containing Putnam and Greene returning, who reported the garrison in high spirits and fully able to defend the fort. Washington, though still unconvinced, returned with them. The next morning the British under Knyphausen, Lord Percy, Colonels Rall and Stirling, advanced against the fort on three different sides at once, and though Raulings and Cadwallader fought like lions, yet the overpowering numbers of the enemy broke down all resistance, and their ascending shouts, and the steadily advancing volleys, soon showed that the day was lost to the Americans. Washington, from Fort Lee, surrounded by his officers and with Tom Paine by his side, stood and watched through his glass the swiftly marching columns. To the eager inquiries of how the battle was

going he only turned gloomily away, and requesting Greene and Putnam to accompany him, leaped into a boat and crossing over ascended the heights to Morris' house, where with painful apprehension he scanned more narrowly the movements of the enemy. While watching Cadwallader slowly retreating along the road nearest the Hudson, fighting desperately as he retired, he saw Col. Stirling advancing swiftly across where One Hundred and Fifty-Fifth street now is, to assail him in flank. Knowing that the troops would soon be all driven within the ramparts of the fort, and the whole surrounding country in possession of the British, he hastened to his boat and recrossed to Fort Lee. In fifteen minutes after he and Greene and Putnam had left Morris' house the British troops were pouring into it. Arriving at Fort Lee he dispatched a messenger to Magaw, promising if he would hold out till night he would bring him and the garrison off. The promise came too late, the British troops were already inundating the outer works, and further resistance could end only in a massacre. To Howe's second summons to surrender, therefore, Magaw hauled down his flag. Washington from morning till noon had gazed with a palpitating heart on that height, and whenever the wind for a moment swept away the smoke that curtained it in, and revealed the flag of freedom still flying, hope would revive in spite of the dark aspect affairs were assuming. But at length as the firing ceased he with an exclamation of anguish saw that banner come down, and the British colors go up in its place. The incessant volleys and explosions of artillery had died away, and in their place loud hurras of the victorious enemy rung over the water. Although only about fifty had been killed, nearly three thousand were taken prisoners. This was the severest blow that had yet fallen on the American army, and crushed for a time the hopes of the country. Lee, when he heard of it, wrote to Washington-"Oh general! why would you be