The citizens refused to provide quarters for the English troops, and declared, in public assembly, that quartering British soldiers in the State House and Faneuil Hall, as the English officers had done, was a still further and graver invasion of their rights.

We should have said that the day on which the Stamp Act went into operation, Nov. 1, 1765, was observed throughout the Colonies as a day of fasting and prayer. The day was ushered in by the tolling of bells, as if the funeral ceremonies of the king himself were to be performed. Ships displayed their colors at half-mast. Business was suspended, and halls and churches were opened for prayer and addresses. Washington's journal shows that he spent the day very much as he did his Sabbaths, in devout worship in the house of God, and religious exercises at home.

In Boston a solemn procession bore along the streets effigies of the men who were promoters of the Act, burying them with appropriate ceremonies. In New York City a similar procession carried the printed Act itself upon a pole, surmounted by a death's head, with a scroll bearing the inscription, "The Folly of England and Ruin of America." Lieutenant-Governor Colden, who had lent his influence to secure the Act, fearing violence, fled to the fort, and garrisoned it with marines from a ship of war. "The mob broke into his stable, drew out his chariot, put his effigy into it, paraded it through the streets to the Common (now the Park), where they hung it on a gallows. In the evening it was taken down, put again into the chariot, with the devil for a companion, and escorted back by torchlight to the bowling green, where the whole pageant, chariot and all, was burnt under the very guns of the fort."

The day on which the Boston Port Bill went into effect was also set apart as a day of fasting, and similar demonstrations were made throughout the Colonies.

It is necessary to turn aside at this point to speak of Washington's visit to Ohio in the interest of his officers and soldiers. It will be remembered that the Governor of Virginia pledged the Virginia troops led by Washington to the Ohio, two hundred thousand acres of the best land in that region. Years passed by, and this pledge was not redeemed. The British ministry opposed redeeming the pledge. But Washington did not forget the claim of his old associates in the hardships and perils of war. He took the matter in hand, and seized upon an opportune moment to carry out his purpose. He even performed a journey to the Ohio to select the best land possible for his deserving comrades. The opportune moment he chose for his journey is described as follows by Irving:

"The Six Nations, by a treaty in 1768, had ceded to the British Crown, in consideration of a sum of money, all the lands possessed by them south of the Ohio. Land offices would soon be opened for the sale of them. Squatters and speculators were already preparing to swarm in, set up their marks on the choicest spots, and establish what were called preemption rights. Washington determined at once to visit the lands thus ceded, affix his mark on such tracts as he should select, and apply for a grant from government, in behalf of the 'soldiers' claim.'"

This expedition was attended by considerable danger, as the Delawares, Shawnees, and Mingees considered that their rights were invaded by the action of the Six Nations. The appearance of white men upon their domains to claim lands was not at all agreeable to them.

In these circumstances Washington undertook the journey, accompanied by his old friend Dr. Craik, and servant, with two servants of his own. All were mounted, with an additional horse to carry the baggage.

They were twelve days on their way to Fort Pitt, where they took a large canoe to descend the Ohio as far as the Great Kanawha. Colonel Croghan, at the fort, engaged two Indians to conduct them thither, and John Nicholson as interpreter.

It was during this trip down the Ohio that Washington enjoyed rare sport. Such herds of deer upon the banks, and flocks of wild turkeys, and such numbers of ducks and geese upon the river, he had never seen before. The canoe was loaded with game.

It was on this trip, also, at the mouth of the Great Kanawha, that Washington met the old sachem "who lay in ambush on the banks of the Monongahela, and wrought such havoc in Braddock's army." The Indian chief came to honor Washington, accompanied with other warriors. After formal introduction, he addressed him thus, through Nicholson the interpreter:

"I am a chief, and the ruler over many tribes. My influence extends to the waters of the great lakes, and to the far blue mountains. I have travelled a long and weary path that I might see the young warrior of the great battle. It was on the day when the white man's blood mixed with the streams of our forest that I first beheld this chief; I called to my young men and said, "Mark yon tall and daring warrior? He is not of the red-coat tribe: he hath an Indian's wisdom, and his warriors fight as we do; himself is alone exposed. Quick, let your aim be certain and he dies." Our rifles were levelled, rifles which, but for him, knew not how to miss. 'Twas all in vain; a power mightier far than we shielded him from harm. He cannot die in battle. I am old, and soon shall be gathered to the great council-fire of my fathers, in the land of shades; but ere I go, there is a something bids me speak in the voice of prophecy. Listen! The Great Spirit protects that man, and guides his destinies. He will become the chief of nations, and a people yet unborn will hail him as the founder of a mighty empire!"

Washington successfully accomplished the object of his mission, and in the end his old companions in arms received their just dues. "Fifteen thousand acres were awarded to a field officer, nine thousand to a captain, six thousand to a subaltern, and so on." Stobo and Van Braam, who were with him at Great Meadows, received nine thousand acres apiece. They were in London at the time, and subsequently Washington purchased their claims through his London agent.

How perilous his journey was at the time may be inferred from the fact that soon after his return there was another Indian outbreak on the banks of the Great Kanawha, whither Washington went, and in the engagement Colonel Lewis and other Virginians lost their lives.

The Virginia Assembly was in session when the Boston Port Bill took effect, and the members voted to make the day one of fasting. They voted, also, at that session, to call a Congress of the Colonies. Other legislatures adopted a like measure; and the first American Congress convened in Philadelphia on the 5th of September, 1774. Washington was a member of this body, and took a leading part in addressing an able memorial to the King of Great Britain.

Patrick Henry was asked who was the first man in the American Congress at Philadelphia, and he answered:

"If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge of South Carolina is by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor."

The patriots felt the need of divine guidance in their deliberations, and elected Rev. Mr. Duché of Philadelphia, an Episcopal clergyman, chaplain of Congress. A few mornings thereafter, news came that the enemy was cannonading Boston. It so happened that the Psalter for that day included the following passages:

"Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with me. Fight against them that fight against me. Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for my help. Draw out also the spear, and stop the way of them that persecute me. Say unto my soul, I am thy salvation."

The effect upon the Assembly was thrilling. John Adams wrote to his wife about it:

"You must remember this was the morning after we heard the horrible rumor of the cannonade of Boston. I never saw a greater effect upon an audience. It seemed as if Heaven had ordained that Psalm to be read on that morning.

"After this, Mr. Duché unexpectedly struck out into an extemporaneous prayer, which filled the bosom of every man present. Episcopalian as he is, Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with such fervor, such ardor, such earnestness and pathos, and in language so eloquent and sublime for America, for the Congress, for the Province of Massachusetts Bay, and especially for the town of Boston."

Most of the members stood during the prayer, but Washington was on his knees.

Lord Chatham was still alive, an old man, feeble and disabled, when that memorial was laid before Parliament, and he "crawled" from his sick room into that body to plead for the American cause. The old orator kindled with patriotic fervor as he rose to defend the cause of the oppressed, and he gave utterance to one of the most eloquent and impassioned appeals ever delivered in Parliament. Our space will allow but a brief extract from it:

"For God's sake then, my lords, let the way be instantly opened for reconciliation; I say instantly, or it will be too late forever. The Americans tell you—and remember it is the language of the whole continent—they tell you they will never submit to be taxed without their own consent. They insist on a repeal of your laws. They do not ask it as a favor: they claim it as a right; they demand it. And I tell you the acts must be repealed; they will be repealed: you cannot enforce them. But bare repeal will not satisfy this enlightened and spirited people. What! satisfy them by repealing a bit of paper? by repealing a piece of parchment? No! you must declare you have no right to tax them; then they may trust you, then they will confide in you. There are, my lords, three millions of Whigs in America. Three millions of Whigs, with arms in their hands, are a formidable body! There are, I trust, double that number of Whigs in England; and I hope the Whigs in both countries will join and make a common cause. They are united by the strongest ties of sentiment and interest, and will therefore, I hope, fly to support their brethren. In this most alarming and distracted state of our affairs, though borne down by a cruel disease, I have crawled to this house, my lords, to give you my best advice, which is, to beseech his Majesty that orders may instantly be despatched to General Gage to remove the troops from Boston; their presence is a source of perpetual irritation and suspicion to those people. How can they trust you with the bayonet at their breasts? They have all the reason in the world to believe that you mean their death or slavery. Let us then set to this business in earnest. There is no time to be lost: every moment is big with danger. Nay, while I am now speaking, the decisive blow may be struck, and millions involved in the dreadful consequences! The very first drop of blood that is drawn will make a wound perhaps never to be healed—a wound of such rancorous malignity, as will, in all probability, mortify the whole body, and hasten, both on England and America, that dissolution to which all nations are destined....

"My lord, if the ministers thus persevere in misadvising the king, he will be undone. He may, indeed, still wear his crown, but the American jewel out of it, it will not be worth the wearing."

Although Chatham was supported by Lord Camden, Lord Shelburne, and the Marquis of Rockingham, his motion was rejected by a large majority, and nearly seven thousand more troops were forwarded to Boston as soon as possible.

Mr. Weems states, what we should have mentioned before, that when England resolved to enforce the tax on tea, and sent a fleet of vessels loaded with the article to Boston, and other American ports, in order to test the matter, Lord Fairfax called upon Washington at his home.

"A letter from my agent," said Washington, "announces that several vessels with cargoes of gunpowder tea are about to set sail to this country. Parliament is determined to tax our tea."

"Why do you call it gunpowder tea?" asked Fairfax.

"Why, I am afraid, my lord," replied Washington, "it will prove inflammable, and produce an explosion that will shake both countries."

His prediction was fulfilled, showing that he took in the situation, with that sagacity for which he was renowned.

General Gage was in command of the royal forces in Boston. When the Port Bill went into operation, he removed the Legislature to Salem. But such was the indignation of the Colonists that, when the time of opening its session arrived, he did not dare to proceed thither. The members assembled, however, and, after waiting in vain for General Gage, they adjourned to Concord, where, immediately, the patriots began to collect arms, ammunition, and other supplies for war.

The military force of General Gage in Boston was increased to such an extent that he soon exhausted his supplies. For relief, he sent out small foraging parties secretly, to seize and appropriate whatever they could lay their hands upon. Hearing that there was a magazine of supplies at Concord, on the night of April 18, 1775, he sent out eight hundred picked men, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, to destroy it. By some means Dr. Warren of Boston learned of General Gage's intentions, and, by a previously concerted signal, gave the alarm. A light in the steeple of the Old North Church was the signal to certain patriots that the people must be called to arms.

A courier on horseback dashed away from Charlestown, at breakneck speed, to give the alarm to the sleeping inhabitants of villages between that place and Concord. At the top of his voice he cried, to startle the minute-men from their beds, "The regulars are coming!"

Certain leading patriots on the way must be aroused and told the story of their danger. So, with a furious pound upon their door, and the wild cry, "The regulars are coming!" the heroic patriots were routed from their beds.

At Lexington Mrs. Harrington, a brave and trusty heroine, heard the midnight cry, and she sprang from her bed, ran to the chamber door, and shouted to her son, who was a minute-man, "John, get up! The regulars are coming!"

By the time day-light began to dawn, the minute-men were in arms, and the whole region round about was fired with the courage and enthusiasm of men resolved to be free or die. When the British troops reached Lexington at five o'clock on the morning of April 19, they found a hundred minute-men drawn up in battle array. Major Pitcairn rode up to them, and shouted:

"Disperse, you rebels! Throw down your arms and disperse!"

His order was followed by a volley of musketry right into the faces of the Lexington soldiers, killing four and wounding several others. The minute-men dispersed, and the British troops hurried on to Concord. Here they met with an unexpectedly hot reception by several hundred minute-men, who had come through the darkness to defend their supplies and the town. Every hour their number increased by the accession of heroes, who came from even twenty miles away to meet the foe.

The British commander was forced to order a retreat, in which his army suffered even more than it did in the battle. The minute-men, from behind trees, houses, barns, and stone walls, picked off the red-coats, so that when the invaders reached Lexington, on their retreat, they were exhausted, depleted, and disheartened. But for the arrival of reinforcements under Lord Percy, the Yankees would have killed or captured Colonel Smith and all his force.

Notwithstanding Colonel Smith was reinforced by "sixteen companies of foot, a corps of marines, and two pieces of artillery," the retreat was continued. All the way from Lexington to Boston, minute-men, who lived remote from the route, and heard the startling news too late to hurry to Concord, annoyed the retreating army by pouring the contents of their muskets into their ranks from covert places where they concealed themselves for bloody work. When the British reached Charlestown, they had sustained a loss of sixty-five killed, one hundred and eighty wounded, and twenty-eight prisoners. The Americans lost fifty killed and thirty-four wounded.

That was the opening of the Revolutionary War, in which independence was achieved. On that nineteenth day of April, 1775, was fired the first gun which, John Adams said, "was heard around the world." From that moment Americans armed themselves, and an army of defence was hastily rallied at Cambridge. The Assembly of Massachusetts was in session at the time, and voted to raise thirteen thousand men in the Colony, and ask the other New England Colonies to increase the number to thirty thousand. There was scarcely any need of such action by the Legislature, however, for the patriotism of the people was unbounded. The Concord fight obliterated the last vestige of apathy, and drew forth a spirit of heroism before unknown. From every quarter men rushed to arms voluntarily, ready to sacrifice even life in the common cause. As an example of the unparalleled devotion to the country, Israel Putnam of Connecticut was ploughing in the field when the news of the Concord fight reached him. Without stopping to go to his house, he jumped upon the back of his horse, instructed his son to carry the intelligence to his mother, and galloped away to join the troops at Cambridge. With such courage and patriotism Americans rallied for the defense of the country, coming even from the most distant hamlets of New England.

The second American Congress met in Philadelphia about four weeks after the battle of Concord. Washington was in his seat promptly, wrought up to the highest pitch of determination in the cause of liberty. He had just come from a convention in Virginia, in which Patrick Henry stirred the hearts of all true patriots by one of his indescribable harangues for the American cause, in which he closed with the memorable words:

"We must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!"

In that deep and solemn conviction Washington met his associates in the second Congress at Philadelphia. What were his opinions regarding the situation at that time may be learned from his familiar conversation with John Adams:

"The decisive blow is struck," remarked Adams; "the Concord fight has made our duty plain."

"It could not possibly be made plainer," replied Washington, "and the Concord fight must convince our oppressors that Americans will never yield to their domination."

"You are right in that view, Colonel Washington; the spirit of hostility to tyranny is grander than I dreamed of. It augurs well for the future."

"There is no alternative left to the Colonies," continued Washington; "the army of Great Britain has deliberately attacked us. The work of this Congress should be to create an army, and provide for defence."

"In the most liberal manner, too, for that only is patriotic," added Adams. "When Parliament resorts to belligerent measures against the remonstrances of Chatham, Burke, Barré, Pitt, and other worthies, we are justified in putting the worst construction upon their intentions."

"Nothing can be more obvious," responded Washington. "And the British troops must be expelled from Boston by force, or our American Colonies are reduced to a condition of vassalage. The army that precipitated the attack at Concord must be paid for the effrontery, or we are slaves."

"Without appealing again to the king?"

"Yes, without appealing again to his Majesty. Our appeals have been spurned. Our entreaties have been interpreted as the pleas of cowardice. Our patience has been regarded as pusillanimity. Because British oppression has been met by respectful remonstrance instead of indignant denunciation, it has appealed to arms; and that appeal must be promptly met by warlike preparations and the challenge to battle."

The second American Congress did send another appeal to the king, though not with the vote of Washington. It was an able, patriotic paper, setting forth the grievances of the Colonists in language that would have moved the hearts of friends to pity. At the same time, however, the members voted to put the Colonies upon a war basis. Many independent military companies had been organized in the Colonies within a few months; and these, by vote, were constituted the Continental Army, in connection with others to be raised. Three millions of dollars were appropriated for supplying arms and stores, and five hundred dollars a month for the salary of a commander-in-chief, to be elected.

The provincial army around Boston was gathered entirely from the New England Colonies, and was wholly without organization or discipline, a motley multitude of men, who left their homes and rushed to camp upon the impulse of patriotic sentiments. John Adams moved that Congress adopt that army, provide for its support, and elect for it a suitable commander. His speech on the occasion pointed so plainly to Washington as the man of all others for commander-in-chief, that the latter gentleman rose from his seat and left the hall. On the following day Washington was unanimously elected commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, a very unexpected honor to him.

With much diffidence, and his usual modesty, he arose in his seat to accept the appointment, and said:

"Though I am truly sensible of the high honor done me in this appointment, yet I feel great distress, from a consciousness that my abilities and military experience may not be equal to the extensive and important trust. However, as the Congress desire it, I will enter upon the momentous duty, and exert every power I possess in their service, and for the support of the glorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cordial thanks for this distinguished testimony of their approbation.

"But lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavorable to my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in the room that I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with.

"As to pay, sir, I beg leave to assure the Congress, that, as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any profit from it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses; these, I doubt not, they will discharge, and that is all I desire."

His acceptance was received with enthusiastic applause, followed by a resolution, declaring that "they would maintain and assist him and adhere to him with their lives and fortunes in the same cause."

The same Congress appointed Artemas Ward, Charles Lee, Philip Schuyler, and Israel Putnam major-generals; and Seth Pomeroy, Richard Montgomery, David Wooster, William Heath, Joseph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan, and Nathaniel Greene brigadier-generals. Horatio Gates was appointed adjutant-general. These appointments were made with Washington's acquiescence, if not at his suggestion.

John Adams wrote to a friend: "There is something charming to me in the conduct of Washington; a gentleman of the first fortunes on the continent, leaving his delicious retirement, his family and friends, sacrificing his ease, and hazarding all in the cause of his country. His views are noble and disinterested. He declared, when he accepted the mighty trust, that he would lay before us an exact account of his expenses, and not accept a shilling pay."


XVII.
IN THE SIEGE OF BOSTON.

"There is no time to lose," remarked Adams to Washington. "Letters to me from Generals Warren and Ward insist that the undisciplined army cannot be kept together much longer without the aid of Congress; and Congress has done the best thing it could for the army in appointing you to its command."

"I shall lose no time in preparations to take command of the army," replied Washington. "I shall repair to Cambridge at once."

"Without returning to Mount Vernon?"

"Yes; that would consume too much time. Much as I should enjoy a visit home, I must forego the pleasure, and hasten to my command."

"A sacrifice, truly," remarked Adams.

"And one that both my wife and mother will appreciate," added Washington, "although the disappointment will be so great to them. Our country first, for the sake of our homes."

"True, very true; and it is a terrible necessity that makes it true," continued Adams. "War is serious business, and under its direful necessities you may never see your loved Mount Vernon again."

"No one can be more sensible of that than myself, but personal pleasure must yield to the demands of patriotism in such a crisis as this. Duty is the watchword now."

Without consuming time for more than the most hasty preparation, Washington started for Massachusetts, after penning the following tender letter to his wife. The epistle shows so much of his noble character that our narrative would be incomplete without it:

Philadelphia, June 18, 1775.

My Dearest,—I am now set down to write you on a subject which fills me with inexpressible concern; and this concern is greatly aggravated and increased when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you. It has been determined in Congress that the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it.

You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home than I have the most distant prospect of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good purpose. You might, and I suppose did, perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment without exposing my character to such censures as would have reflected dishonor upon myself and given pain to my friends. This I am sure could not, and ought not, to be pleasing to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, therefore, confidently on that Providence which has heretofore preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I shall return safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or the danger of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel from being left alone. I therefore beg that you will summon your whole fortitude, and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing will give me so much sincere satisfaction as to hear this, and to hear it from your own pen. My earnest and ardent desire is, that you would pursue any plan that is most likely to produce content and a tolerable degree of tranquility; and it must add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear that you are dissatisfied or complaining at what I really could not avoid.

As life is always uncertain, and common prudence dictates to every man the necessity of settling his temporal concerns while it is in his power, and while the mind is calm and undisturbed, I have, since I came to this place (for I had not time to do it before I left home), got Colonel Pendleton to draft a will for me, by the directions I gave him, which will I now enclose. The provisions made for you in case of my death will, I hope, be agreeable. I shall add nothing more, as I have several letters to write, but to desire that you will remember me to your friends, and to assure you that I am, with the most unfeigned regard, my dear Patsy,

Your affectionate husband.

The preparation of his will is expressive of his thoughts and feelings at the time, and it magnifies, also, the sacrifice he was making for his country.

It will be noticed that the letter to his wife is dated June 18, the day after the battle of Bunker Hill. He knew nothing of that battle, of course; and the fact shows all the more how rapidly public affairs were hastening to a crisis.

It was the 23d of June when he left Philadelphia, and just before leaving he addressed another brief letter to his wife, that furnishes a key to his heart:

Philadelphia, June 23, 1775.

My Dearest,—As I am within a few minutes of leaving this city, I could not think of departing from it without dropping you a line, especially as I do not know whether it will be in my power to write again until I get to the camp at Boston. I go fully trusting in that Providence which has been more bountiful to me than I deserve, and in full confidence of a happy meeting with you in the fall. I have not time to add more, as I am surrounded by company to take leave of me. I retain an unalterable affection for you, which neither time nor distance can change. My best love to Jack and Nelly, and regards to the rest of the family, concludes me, with the utmost sincerity,

Your entire
Geo. Washington.

Two thousand troops had gathered in Philadelphia, and he reviewed them before leaving. The whole two thousand escorted him out of the city, and a company of light-horse escorted him to New York, together with Generals Lee and Schuyler.

Twenty miles from Philadelphia he was met by a courier on horseback, bringing particulars of the battle of Bunker Hill.

"How many Americans were engaged in it?" Washington inquired.

"About twelve hundred only."

"Who led them?"

"General Prescott."

"How many were killed?"

"About four hundred and fifty were killed and wounded. The British lost more than half of their men."

"What officers fell?"

"The brave General Warren was one."

"Did the men fight well?"

"Never braver men met a foe."

"Then the liberties of our country are safe," added Washington.

As grand a welcome as could possibly be given, without the burning of powder, was tendered by the Provincial Assembly of New York and New Jersey. They could burn no powder because the Colony possessed but four barrels, having forwarded a thousand barrels to Cambridge for the use of the army.

Washington left General Schuyler in command at New York and hastened forward to Cambridge, for at New York he received a more detailed account of the battle of Bunker Hill. This information caused him to hasten his journey; and he reached Watertown, where the Legislature was sitting, on the second day of July. That body gave him an enthusiastic welcome, and presented a lengthy address to him, in which they spread out the deplorable condition of the army, pledging their prompt aid in its organization and discipline.

On the third day of July he was escorted by an imposing cavalcade to Cambridge, four miles distant, to take immediate command of the army. Notwithstanding the scarcity of powder, his arrival was announced by salvos of artillery; and the sight of him, in his splendid bearing, drew from the admiring thousands the heartiest cheers. The general of whom they had heard so much even more than met their expectations, and their joy knew no bounds.

Washington wheeled his noble charger under the shadow of the "Great Elm," where he formally took command of the Continental Army, thereby making the tree historic to this day. He was forty-three years of age at that time.

Mrs. John Adams was in Cambridge when Washington arrived, and she wrote of him as follows:

"Dignity, ease, and complacency, the gentleman and the soldier look, agreeably blended in him. Modesty marks every line and feature of his face. These lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me:

"'Mark his majestic fabric! He's a temple
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine;
His soul's the deity that lodges there,
Nor is the pile unworthy of the God.'"

Washington found General Artemas Ward in command, who informed him that, "We have fourteen thousand five hundred men, including the sick."

"How many troops of the king hold Boston?" Washington inquired.

"About eleven thousand of the best disciplined troops that England could send over."

"And how many inhabitants of Boston are there in the city now?"

"Seventeen thousand; and it is said that they are treated as rebels, except the Tories, who support the cause of the Crown. General Gage is in command, and Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne arrived with their last reinforcements."

"Gage was with me twenty years ago in the expedition against Duquesne," said Washington. "Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne are the best generals the king can send, I suppose."

"I judge so. At any rate this army is a mob compared to the royal army in Boston. Very few of them were ever in the service before. They know nothing about order and discipline, and care as little."

"They must learn both as quickly as possible," responded Washington. "An army without discipline can be little more than a mob. My first step will be to bring the army under rigid military discipline."

Washington, accompanied by General Lee, took immediate measures to acquaint himself with the condition of the army, and in an incredibly short time had it distributed thus: The right wing was stationed on the heights of Roxbury, under the command of Major-General Ward; the left wing was stationed on Winter and Prospect Hills, in what is now the city of Somerville, under command of Major-General Lee; while the centre, under Major-General Putnam, occupied Cambridge. The army was thus distributed over a line of some twelve miles in length.

The army was destitute of clothing, ammunition, and nearly everything for its comfort. The mass of them were dressed as they were clad when they left their farms and work-shops, a dirty, ragged collection of armed men, though resolute and brave. Their cry against the king's troops in Boston was:

"Shut them up! Starve them out! Drive them into their ships, and send their ships out to sea!"

To add to the disheartening situation, Charlestown lay in ashes, having been set on fire by the enemy's shells at the battle of Bunker Hill; there were no well-constructed works throughout the whole line of fortifications; insubordination was popular among the troops, who called it independence; and still worse, jealousies prevailed among the troops of different Colonies.

The larger part of the army, nearly ten thousand, belonged to Massachusetts, and they were in the worst plight of all. Washington made the following magnanimous apology for them:

"This unhappy and devoted province has been so long in a state of anarchy, and the yoke has been laid so heavily on it, that great allowances are to be made for troops raised under such circumstances. The deficiency of members, discipline, and stores can only lead to this conclusion: that their spirit has exceeded their strength."

A British officer wrote home:

"The rebel army are in so wretched a condition as to clothing and accoutrements, that I believe no nation ever saw such a set of tatterdemalions. There are few coats among them but what are out at elbows, and in a whole regiment there is scarce a whole pair of breeches."

Nevertheless, the material for an army in such a crisis was good. The famous General Nathaniel Greene of Rhode Island organized three regiments in that province after the Concord fight, and he was there with his men, "the best disciplined and appointed troops in the army." Connecticut also raised a respectable force, and put them under the command of General Israel Putnam, who left his plough in the furrow, and galloped off to Boston; and they were there. The brave Colonel Stark of New Hampshire, with his "Green Mountain boys," was there also. Other officers of ability were doing all they could with an undisciplined army, while the rank and file were eager to drive the foe out of Boston. A leader like Washington was needed to organize and manipulate this rough mass of material. A chief like him, too, was indispensable to elevate their moral condition; for drunkenness, revelry, lewdness, profanity, gambling, not to mention other evils, abounded.

The following was Washington's first order to the army:

"The Continental Congress having now taken all the troops of the several Colonies which have been raised, or which may be hereafter raised, for the support and defence of the liberties of America, into their pay and service, they are now the troops of the United Provinces of North America; and it is hoped that all distinctions of Colonies will be laid aside, so that one and the same spirit may animate the whole, and the only contest be, who shall render, on this great and trying occasion, the most essential service to the great and common cause in which we are all engaged. It is required and expected that exact discipline be observed, and due subordination prevail, through the whole army, as a failure in these most essential points must necessarily produce extreme hazard, disorder, and confusion, and end in shameful disappointment and disgrace. The general most earnestly requires and expects a due observance of those articles of war established for the government of the army, which forbid profane cursing, swearing, and drunkenness. And in like manner he requires and expects of all officers and soldiers, not engaged on actual duty, a punctual attendance on divine service, to implore the blessing of Heaven upon the means used for our safety and defence."

Rev. William Emerson was a chaplain in the army, and he wrote as follows of the wonderful change Washington wrought in a short time:

"There is great overturning in the camp as to order and regularity. New lords, new laws. The Generals Washington and Lee are upon the lines every day. New orders from his Excellency are read to the respective regiments every morning after prayers. The strictest government is taking place, and great distinction is made between officers and soldiers.

"Every one is made to know his place and keep in it, or be tied up and receive thirty or forty lashes, according to his crime. Thousands are at work every day from four to eleven o'clock in the morning. It is surprising how much work has been done. The lines are extended almost from Cambridge to Mystic River, so that very soon it will be morally impossible for the enemy to get between the works, except in one place, which is supposed to be left purposely unfortified to entice the enemy out of their fortresses."

"The British army in Boston understand their business," remarked Washington to his secretary, Mr. Reed. "Their works are thoroughly constructed, and they seem to be provided with every thing that war requires." At that time he had reconnoitered until he had acquired quite a thorough knowledge of their defences.

"King George would not be likely to send over others," answered Reed. "He is too anxious to awe his rebellious subjects into submission to pursue another course."

"Well, they are in close quarters now," continued Washington, "although, if they understood our weakness, they might fight their way out, and annihilate the American army. I have just discovered that all the powder in the camp will not furnish the soldiers nine cartridges apiece."

"No more?" exclaimed Reed. "You surprise me!"

"You cannot be more surprised than I am. It is a fearful condition for this army to be in."

"How can it be so?" added Reed, still more surprised. "According to that, powder is scarcer than clothing."

"It is true, if my investigation does not mislead," responded Washington. "No army was ever in a condition so deplorable; and I would not dare to let my soldiers know the actual state of things, lest they become demoralized."

"Fortunate for us that so far they are in blissful ignorance of our condition," said Reed; "but this state of affairs must not be suffered to continue."

"Certainly not; I shall take immediate measures to remedy the evil."

And he did. Agents were sent in different directions to procure ammunition. A vessel was sent to the Bermudas for this purpose. Expeditions to capture British forts in this country and Canada were set on foot. The manufacture of powder was recommended by Congress.

At that time, the transportation of supplies for an army was a slow and tedious work. There were no railroads, and the facilities for transportation by horses and cattle were far inferior to those of the present day. For example, a little later, Henry Knox, who was a thriving book-seller in Boston when the British took possession of the city, and who fought bravely at Bunker Hill, was sent to Ticonderoga and Crown Point, which the Americans had captured, to bring such artillery and ordnance stores as could be spared. He was instructed, also, to proceed to St. John and Montreal, both of which had just been captured by American expeditions under Benedict Arnold and Ethan Allen, Generals Schuyler and Montgomery. It was in the depth of winter when Knox returned with over fifty cannon, mortars, and howitzers, and a quantity of lead and flints, loaded upon forty sleds, drawn by eighty yoke of cattle. Washington procured for Knox the commission of colonel soon after he undertook the enterprise.

Washington's headquarters were established at the Cragie House, a spacious building, favorably situated for the commander-in-chief. For many years it was owned by Professor Longfellow the poet, who died there some years since.

Order, sobriety, and religion regulated his headquarters. Morning and evening prayers were scrupulously maintained, and the whole appearance of the place indicated that the renowned occupant was a Christian.

Washington required the chaplains of all his regiments to conduct prayers morning and evening, and religious services on the Sabbath. The officers were required to see that their men attended all these services, since they were observed "for their good."

Early in the siege of Boston, when he felt that "if success ever crowns the American cause, it will be because an All-wise Providence controls the affairs of men," Washington advised the appointment of a day of fasting and prayer, to intercede for the blessing of God upon the little army at Cambridge. Congress appointed the day, and the commander-in-chief required its observance throughout the army. Religious services were held, all business suspended, and the day was made as quiet and religious as Sunday.

One of the earliest arrivals at the camp in Cambridge, after Washington took command, was from Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, fourteen hundred sharp-shooters, as we should call them now. They were tall, stalwart men, dressed in fringed hunting shirts and round caps. They were received in camp with the wildest demonstrations of joy. A few weeks later a long, lumbering train of wagons, laden with military stores captured on the sea, came into camp. Washington had been forced to send out cruisers, by the action of General Gage in arming vessels to capture supplies along the American coast. One of his cruisers captured a brigantine ladened with munitions of war,—two thousand stand of arms, one hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round shot, and thirty-two tons musket balls,—which were taken into Cape Ann, and transported from thence on wagons to Cambridge.

In this way, as well as by the action of Congress and the Provincial Legislatures, the army of Washington was strengthened and equipped. The British were so thoroughly entrenched in Boston, and their army so well disciplined and powerful, that it would have been foolhardy for Washington to attack them; besides, an attack would have resulted in burning the city and sacrificing the lives of many friends who lived there.

"British officers must understand that men fighting for their country are patriots, and not malefactors," remarked Washington to Mr. Reed, his secretary. "Cruelty to prisoners anyway is contrary to all the rules of civilized warfare."

"Well, we are 'rebels,' you know," replied Reed sarcastically, "and General Gage thinks that 'rebels' have no claim upon his clemency."

"Cruelty to prisoners is not confined to General Gage," responded Washington. "There is no doubt that the king holds Allen [Ethan] in irons, and his fellow-captives, which is treating prisoners of war as savages do."

Ethan Allen was the famous patriot who led two hundred and thirty men against Fort Ticonderoga, and captured it in May, 1775. He surprised the commander, and demanded an immediate surrender.

"By whose authority do you make this demand?" inquired the officer in charge.

"In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!" shouted Allen.

He was captured by General Prescott in Canada.

"Were the king's forces in Boston to sally forth and conquer our army, the rules of civilized warfare would be of no account to them, I am thinking;" suggested Mr. Reed. "It behooves us to keep out of their clutches, or die in the attempt."

The cruelty of British officers to prisoners was the subject of frequent discussion between Washington and his advisers, and finally he wrote to General Gage as follows:

"I understand that the officers engaged in the cause of liberty and their country, who, by the fortune of war have fallen into your hands, have been thrown indiscriminately into a common jail, appropriated to felons; that no consideration has been had for those of the most respectable rank, when languishing with wounds and sickness, and that some have been amputated in this unworthy situation.... The obligations arising from the rights of humanity and claims of rank are universally binding and extensive, except in case of retaliation. These, I should have hoped, would have dictated a more tender treatment of those individuals whom chance or war had put in your power.... My duty now makes it necessary to apprise you that, for the future, I shall regulate all my conduct towards those gentlemen who are, or may be, in our possession, exactly by the rule you shall observe toward those of ours now in your custody.

"If severity and hardships mark the line of your conduct, painful as it may be to me, your prisoners will feel its effects. But if kindness and humanity are shown to us, I shall with pleasure consider those in our hands only as unfortunate, and they shall receive from me that treatment to which the unfortunate are ever entitled."

The reply of General Gage was characteristic of a conceited, ambitious, and domineering officer of the king, and Washington closed his reply to it with these words:

"I shall now, sir, close my correspondence with you, perhaps forever. If your officers, our prisoners, receive a treatment from me different from that which I wished to show them, they and you will remember the occasion of it."

Subsequently, Washington ordered British officers at Watertown and Cape Ann, who were at large on parole, to be confined in the jail at Northampton, explaining to them that it was not agreeable to his feelings of humanity, but according to the treatment of Americans whom the officers of the crown held as prisoners. But he could not tolerate even this mild form of retaliation, and therefore in a short time he revoked the order, and the prisoners were at large again.

"I was never more distressed in mind than I am now," remarked Washington to a member of his staff.

"Why so?"

"Within a few days this army will be reduced to less than ten thousand men by the expiration of enlistments," answered Washington; "and when we can ever attack Boston is a problem. For six months I have been waiting for powder, fire-arms, recruits, and what-not; and here we are with the 1st of January, 1776, right upon us, when several thousand soldiers will leave."

"A very discouraging fact indeed," answered the staff officer; "and how will you fill the breach created by their going?"

"That is what troubles me. We shall be forced to require soldiers whose term of enlistment expires, to leave their muskets, allowing them fair compensation for the same. And to encourage their successors to bring arms, we must charge each one of them who fails to bring his gun one dollar for the use of the one we provide."

"A novel way of recruiting and supplying an army, truly," said the staff officer.

"The only way left to us," remarked Washington.

"Yes; and I suppose that any way is better than none."

Washington wrote to a friend on the 4th of January:

"It is easier to conceive than to describe the situation of my mind for some time past and my feelings under our present circumstances. Search the volume of history through, and I much question whether a case similar to ours can be found; namely, to maintain a post against the power of the British troops for six months together without powder, and then to have one army disbanded and another raised within the same distance (musket shot) of a reinforced enemy.... For two months past I have scarcely emerged from one difficulty before I have been plunged into another. How it will end, God, in His great goodness, will direct. I am thankful for His protection to this time."

A few days later he wrote:

"The reflection of my situation and that of this army produces many an unhappy hour, when all around me are wrapped in sleep. Few people know the predicament we are in on a thousand accounts; fewer still will believe, if any disaster happens to these lines, from what cause it flows. I have often thought how much happier I should have been, if, instead of accepting the command under such circumstances, I had taken my musket on my shoulder and entered the ranks; or, if I could have justified the measure to posterity and my own conscience, had retired to the back country and lived in a wigwam."

Still, through his tact and indomitable perseverance, Washington found his army in a condition to attack Boston in March. He had vainly tried to induce the British troops to leave their comfortable quarters and come out to battle. He had so effectually cut off their supplies by his determined siege that the British Government was compelled to send supplies from home. But now he felt that the time for action had come. He called a council of war.

"Our situation compels action of some kind to save ourselves, even at great risk," he said to his advisers. "There is a cloud over the public mind, and there is danger on the north and on the south. Montgomery has fallen before Quebec, and our little army in Canada is depleted and broken. Tryon and the Tories are plotting mischief in New York, and Dunmore in Virginia. Clinton, too, is making depredations along the coast."

"And what do you propose?" inquired one.

"To attack Boston."

"And take the risk?"

"Yes; and take the risk, which will prove less, I believe, that the risk incurred by continual inaction."

"Do you propose an immediate movement?"

"On the 4th of March, the anniversary of the 'Boston Massacre.' It is a good time to avenge that wrong."

On the 4th of March, 1775, the British troops, who were often insolent and overbearing to the citizens of Boston, were attacked and stoned by indignant parties. A brief contest followed, in which four Americans were killed and several wounded. This was called the "Boston Massacre."

"I hope that your movement will be successful, but it is a hazardous one," suggested one of the council. "An attack all along the line?"

"By no means," answered Washington. "The project is hazardous indeed, but that is inevitable. On the night of March 3 I propose to take possession of Dorchester Heights, throw up breastworks, and by the time the enemy can see the Heights in the morning, be prepared to hold the position."

"And if the whole British army attack us, what then?"

"General Putnam shall have a force of four thousand men on the opposite side of the town, in two divisions, under Generals Sullivan and Greene. At a given signal from Roxbury, they shall embark at the mouth of Charles River, cross under cover of three floating batteries, land in two places in Boston, secure its strong posts, force the gates and works at the neck, and let in the Roxbury troops. This, in case they make a determined attempt to dislodge us."

Washington waited for a reply. The bold plan somewhat perplexed his advisers at first, and there was silence for a moment. At length one spoke, and then another, and still another, until every objection was canvassed. The plan was finally adopted, but kept a profound secret with the officers who were to conduct the enterprise.

We cannot dwell upon details. Agreeable to Washington's arrangement, when the expedition with tools, arms, supplies, and other necessaries was ready to move on the evening of March 3, a terrible cannonading of the British by the American army, at two different points, commenced, under the cover of which our troops reached Dorchester Heights without attracting the attention of the enemy. The reader may judge of the cannonading by the words of Mrs. John Adams, who wrote to her husband thus:

"I have just returned from Penn's Hill, where I have been sitting to hear the amazing roar of cannon, and from whence I could see every shell that was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the grandest in nature, and is of the true species of the sublime. It is now an incessant roar.

"I went to bed about twelve, and rose again a little after one. I could no more sleep than if I had been in the engagement; the rattling of the windows, the jar of the house, the continual roar of twenty-four pounders, and the bursting of shells, give us such ideas, and realize a scene to us of which we could scarcely form any conception. I hope to give you joy of Boston, even if it is in ruins, before I send this away."

What the British beheld on the morning of March 4, to their surprise and alarm, is best told in the words of one of their officers.

"This morning at daybreak we discovered two redoubts on Dorchester Point, and two smaller ones on their flanks. They were all raised during last night, with an expedition equal to that of 'the genii' belonging to Alladin's wonderful lamp. From these hills they command the whole town, so that we must drive them from their post or desert the place."

The British general, Howe, exclaimed:

"The rebels have done more work in one night than my whole army would have done in a month."

General Howe had superseded General Gage some time before this exploit.

Quickly as possible, General Howe began to bombard the new fortifications on Dorchester Heights. All through the day he cannonaded the little American army, and, under the cover of the bombardment, prepared to land twenty-five hundred picked men at night, and carry the Heights by storm. His guns did little damage, however, through the day. Washington was present in person, encouraging the soldiers, and directing them in strengthening the fortifications.

Under the darkness of night General Howe sent twenty-five hundred of his best soldiers, in transports, to capture the "rebel works." But a furious northeast storm arose, and beat upon them with such violence that it was impossible to land. They were compelled to postpone the attack until the next night. But the storm continued, and even increased. The wind blew a gale and the rain descended in torrents all through the following day and night, shutting up the enemy within their own quarters, and allowing the Americans time to multiply their works and render them impregnable.

When the storm ceased, an English officer declared that the Americans were invincible in their strong position. That General Howe was of the same opinion is evident from the fact that he decided to evacuate Boston.

Had General Howe been able to land his troops on the first night, as he planned, there is little doubt that Washington would have been driven from the Heights as the Americans were driven from Bunker Hill, so that the intervention of the storm seemed peculiarly providential. When Washington issued his order, months before, for the strict observance of the Sabbath and daily religious service by the army, General Lee, who was a godless scoffer, remarked, derisively, "God is on the side of the heaviest battalions."

But in this case the storm favored the weakest battalions.

General Howe conferred with the authorities of Boston, and promised to evacuate the city without inflicting harm upon it if the Americans would not attack him. Otherwise he would commit the city to the flames, and leave under cover of the mighty conflagration. Washington wrote to him:

"If you will evacuate the city without plundering or doing any harm, I will not open fire upon you. But if you make any attempt to plunder, or if the torch is applied to a single building, I will open upon you the most deadly bombardment."

Howe promised: yet such was the disposition of the British soldiers to acts of violence, that he was obliged to issue an order that soldiers found plundering should be hanged on the spot; and he had an officer, with a company of soldiers and a hangman, march through the streets, ready to execute his order.

It was not, however, until the 17th of March that the embarkation of the British army commenced. About twelve thousand soldiers and refugees embarked in seventy-eight vessels. The refugees were Americans who favored the British cause (called Tories), and they did not dare to remain in this country. Washington wrote about these refugees:

"By all accounts there never existed a more miserable set of beings than those wretched creatures now are. Taught to believe that the power of Great Britain was superior to all opposition, and that foreign aid was at hand, they were even higher and more insulting in their opposition than the regulars. When the order was issued, therefore, for embarking the troops in Boston, no electric shock, no sudden clap of thunder, in a word, the last trump, could not have struck them with greater consternation. They were at their wits' end; chose to commit themselves, in the manner I have above described, to the mercy of the waves at a tempestuous season, rather than meet their offended countrymen."

With exceeding joy Washington beheld the "precipitate retreat" of the British army from Boston, but fired not a gun. One of General Howe's officers wrote afterwards:

"It was lucky for the inhabitants now left in Boston that they did not, for I am informed that everything was prepared to set the town in a blaze had they fired one cannon."

We have intentionally passed over several incidents, with the rehearsal of which we will bring this chapter to a close.

When Washington assumed the command of the American army, he left his Mount Vernon estate in charge of Mr. Lund Washington, continuing to direct its management by correspondence. He expected to return to his home in the autumn, and so encouraged his wife to believe. But in this he was sorely disappointed. His thoughtful and benevolent character appears in one of his early letters to his agent:

"Let the hospitality of the house with respect to the poor be kept up. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this kind of people should be in want of corn, supply their necessaries, provided it does not encourage them to idleness; and I have no objection to your giving my money in charity to the amount of forty or fifty pounds a year, when you think it is well bestowed. What I mean by having no objection is, that it is my desire that it should be done."

Many Americans feared that the enemy might send a war vessel up the Potomac and destroy the Mount Vernon residence and capture Mrs. Washington. She was earnestly advised to leave, and repair to a place of safety beyond the Blue Ridge. But Washington sent for her to come to him at Cambridge.

She was four weeks travelling from Mount Vernon to Cambridge. She performed the journey in her own carriage, a chariot drawn by four fine horses, with black postilions in scarlet and white liveries. This was an English style of equipage, and the public sentiment of that day demanded that the commander-in-chief should adopt it. She was accompanied by her son, and was escorted from place to place by guards of honor. Her arrival in Cambridge was the signal for great rejoicing. The army received her with the honors due to her illustrious husband.

She immediately took charge of Washington's headquarters, and soon became as popular in the domestic and social circle as her husband was in camp and field. It was at Cambridge that she was first called "Lady Washington."

As an illustration of Washington's rigid discipline, an incident is related of his manner of suppressing a disturbance. It was during the winter he was besieging Boston.

A party of Virginia riflemen met a party of Marblehead fishermen. The dress of the fishermen was as singular to the riflemen as that of the riflemen was to the fishermen, and they began to banter each other. Snow-balls soon began to fly back and forth, and finally hard blows were interchanged. A melee occurred, in which a thousand soldiers participated.

Hearing of the disturbance, Washington hastened to the scene, and, leaping from his horse, he seized two burly Virginians by the neck, and held them out at arm's length, at the same time administering a rebuke in words that scattered the combatants as suddenly as a cannonade would have done.

The British army committed many depredations in Boston during the year they held possession of it. They tore out the pulpit and pews of the Old South Church, and converted it into a riding-school for General Burgoyne's light-horse regiment. They took down the North Church and used it for fuel. They used up about three hundred wooden houses in the same way.

In the winter a theatre was established for the entertainment of the British soldiers. At one time a British officer wrote a farce entitled, "The Blockade of Boston," to be played on a given evening. It was a burlesque upon Washington and the American army. It represented the commander-in-chief of the American army as an awkward lout, equipped with a huge wig, and a long, rusty sword, attended by a country booby as orderly sergeant, in a rustic garb, with an old fire-lock seven or eight feet long.

The theatre was filled to overflowing on the night the farce was announced. It happened that, on the same night, General Putnam sent a party of two hundred men to surprise and capture a British guard stationed at Charlestown. His daring exploit was successful, though his men were fired upon by the garrison of the fort. The thunder of artillery caused a British officer to believe that the Yankees were in motion, and he rushed into the theatre, crying, "The Yankees are attacking Bunker Hill!"

At first the audience supposed that this announcement was part of the play. But General Howe, who was present, undeceived them by calling out, "Officers, to your alarm posts!"

The farce turned out to be tragedy, and the curtain fell upon the scene. The audience scattered like a flock of sheep.

The failure of the British to hold Boston was extremely mortifying to General Howe and the English Government. When the king's regiments first took possession of the city, one of the officers wrote home:

"Whenever it comes to blows, he that can run the fastest will think himself well off, believe me. Any two regiments here ought to be decimated if they did not beat in the field the whole force of the Massachusetts Province."

General Gage said to the king, before leaving England to take command of the forces in Boston, "The Americans will be lions so long as the English are lambs. Give me five regiments and I will keep Boston quiet."

When General Burgoyne was sailing into Boston Harbor to join his king's army, and his attention was called to the fact that a few thousand undisciplined "rebels" were besieging a town garrisoned by five or six thousand British regulars, he exclaimed in derision:

"What! ten thousand peasants keep five thousand king's troops shut up? Well, let us get in and we'll soon find elbow-room."

He failed to find "elbow room" until he put out to sea.

To be driven out of Boston, when such a result was considered impossible by the foe, was doubly humiliating to the sons of Great Britain. It was proportionably glorious to American patriots, and they took possession of the city with exultation and devout thanksgivings to God.

Congress unanimously adopted a eulogistic resolution, rehearsing the valor and achievements of the commander-in-chief, and ordered a gold medal, with appropriate inscription, to be struck off, and presented to him as a token of the country's gratitude.