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It would be easy enough work for the next day; they would "bag the fox in the morning," when the tired troops had had a good night's rest.

It was an anxious hour for Washington. The situation was desperate; as he watched the camp-fires burning on either side of the narrow stream which formed such a slight barrier between the hostile troops, it seemed well-nigh hopeless. What remained for to-morrow but a wholesale slaughter of his army, the capture or death of himself, the loss of America's independence?

Then came a flash of genius-one of those inspirations which come in the darkest hours of need. A short space of earnest thought on his own part, a council of officers called, and it was decided that by a circuitous road the troops should set out in the direction of Princetown that night. Washington felt sure, from the strength of the forces with Cornwallis, that not many could be left at Princetown, and a bold push for that place might save them.

The British troops slept. The last things they saw were the American camp-fires burning brightly, and by their light they could see the figures of the guard and sentries standing near the bridges and fords; the last thing they heard was the sound of the American hammers working at the defences for the next day's encounter: but the baggage and the main part of the army were already "stealing with Quaker-like silence over what was called the Quaker Road." When the morning came, guards and sentries were gone, the campfires were smouldering out, the sound of the stream was all that was to be heard, and the Americans were miles away.

Washington found more troops than he had expected in the neighbourhood of Princetown. The 17th, under Colonel Mawhood, cut its way through the American ranks, and

joined Lord Cornwallis; the 40th and 55th were repulsed by Washington, and driven back upon Brunswick, leaving 100 dead and 300 prisoners. Washington was in the thickest of the fight, making his men very fearful for his safety by his boldness. An officer wrote of him a few days after, "Our army love their general very much, but they have one thing against him, which is the little care he takes of himself in action."

He did not go to Princetown, as he intended, but fell back first on Pluckamin, and then on Morristown. "This position among the hills was not easy of access, yet well provided with supplies. Thence sending out detachments, he overran and reduced nearly the whole of the Jerseys."

Thus for the time Philadelphia was saved, and the Jerseys, which had shown a tendency to join the Royalist cause, and to receive the British in their province with friendliness, now joined the conquering side. All through the country red rags had been tied on the doors as a sign of attachment to the Royalist cause. When the American troops passed along the roads they found the inhabitants busily engaged in pulling off the red rags, and were received with enthusiasm and kindness. Of all his Jersey possessions, Sir William now only preserved Amboy and Brunswick; but he did not seem to mind this, and rested on his arms at New York for several months. This brought the first campaign to an end.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE two armies were at rest during the winter. General Howe occupied quarters at New York; Washington remained at Morristown. A few skirmishes were all that

occurred. But the late successes of the commander had renewed the confidence of Congress, and they gave him larger powers than he had had before. A vote was passed, December 27, 1776, to the effect that Congress "having maturely considered the present crisis, and having perfect reliance on the wisdom, vigour, and uprightness of General Washington, do hereby resolve

"That General Washington shall be, and he is hereby vested with full, ample, and complete powers to raise and collect together, in the most speedy and effectual manner, from any or all of the United States, sixteen battalions of infantry, in addition to those already voted by Congress," &c.

In this work Washington was steadily engaged through the long months of winter. He had many applications from foreigners for employment in the cause of American independence; amongst others, a Pole of high birth, Thaddeus Kosciusko, came to the general. He had left his own country in deep grief, and had brought a letter of introduction from Dr. Franklin to Washington.

"What do you seek here?" said the commander-in-chief. "To fight for American independence."

"What can you do?"

"Try me."

Washington made him his aide-de-camp, and he was afterwards raised to the rank of colonel in the Engineers, and did much valuable service for America. The Marquis de La Fayette was another who joined the American cause. His name became as well known throughout the United States as it was afterwards in the history of the French Revolution. Hearing by chance, at a dinner-party in Metz, an English duke speaking of the American "revolt" and the Declaration of Independence, the thought came into his mind that he would go out to the States and offer himself to Washington's army, which he considered was proving devotion to a just and noble cause. He left his young wife, to whom he had only just been married, and sailing at once. for America, made application to Congress for employment, saying in his note, "After my sacrifices, I have the right to ask favours: one is, to serve at my own expense; the other, to commence by serving as a volunteer." Congress gave him the rank of major-general in the army of the United States.

Washington met him at a public dinner in Philadelphia, and seems to have been much struck with the young marquis, who was then only twenty years of age, and had shown such a strong zeal for the cause of independence. A warm friendship commenced between them, which continued throughout their lives; but many in the American army were jealous of the rank which was conferred on the young Frenchman, and the preference which the commander-inchief showed for him.

Meanwhile in England a variety of opinions were held as to the war. On May 30, 1777, Lord Chatham came from his sick room, "still swathed in flannels," to move an address to the Crown, lamenting the unnatural war against

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the British colonies in America, and beseeching "his Majesty to take the most speedy measures for arresting it, upon the only just and solid foundation, namely, the removal of accumulated grievances." "You cannot conquer the Americans!" he cried. "You talk of your powerful forces to disperse their army; why" (and here he raised and showed the support to his gouty limbs) "I might as well talk of driving them before me with this crutch.

You have ransacked every corner of Lower Saxony; but 40,000 German boors can never conquer ten times the number of British freemen. They may ravage-they cannot conquer.' You have been three years teaching them the art of war, and they are apt scholars. What you have sent are too many to make peace, too few to make war. If you did conquer them, what then? You cannot make them respect you. You have said to America, 'Lay down your arms;' and she has given you the Spartan answer, 'Come and take them.' My proposal," he went on, "is specific-the redress of all their grievances, and the right to dispose of their own money. This is to be done instantaneously. I will get out of my bed to move it on Monday." He then proceeded to show how inexpedient it would be on the part of England to allow a treaty of alliance to be signed between America and France, without an effort at reconciliation. "We are the aggressors," he said. "We have invaded them. We have invaded them as much as the Spanish Armada invaded England. Mercy cannot do harm; it will seat the king where he ought to be -throned in the hearts of his people."

Perhaps that eloquence came too late; certainly it was exerted in vain.

Washington, during the spring, had received large rein

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