The doctor, who was then less reduced than myself, ran and got behind a hill, and shot one down, which stopped the remainder. We crawled up to the dead one, and shot from him as many as twelve or fourteen times among the gang; when they removed out of sight. then proceeded to butcher the one we had shot; and after procuring each of us a load of the meat, we marched for the camp, the smoke of which was in view. We arrived at the camp to the great joy of our brave lads, who immediately feasted sumptuously: after our repast, I sent for the lad who had presumed to speak discontentedly in the course of the day, and addressed him to the following effect: Brown, you this day presumed to make use of language which was seditious and mutinous; I then passed it over, pitying your situation, and attributing it to your distress, rather than your inclination, to sow discontent amongst the party. Had I reserved provisions for ourselves, whilst you were starving; had we been marching along light and at our ease, whilst you were weighed down with your burden; then you would have had some pretext for your observations; but when we were equally hungry, emaciated, and charged with burdens, which I believe my natural strength is less able to bear than any man's in the party; when we were always foremost in breaking the road, reconnoitering and the fatigues of the chase; it was the height of ingratitude in you, to let an expression escape which was indicative of discontent; your ready compliance and firm perseverance I had reason to expect; as the leader of men and my companions, in miseries and dangers. But your duty as a soldier called on your obedience to your officer, and a prohibition of such language, which for this time I will pardon; but I assure you, should it ever be repeated, by instant death, I will revenge your ingratitude and punish your disobedience. I take this opportunity likewise to assure you, soldiers generally, of my thanks for obedience, perseverance and ready contempt of every danger, which you have generally evinced; I assure you nothing shall be wanting on my part, to procure you the rewards of our government and the gratitude of your countrymen." Pike's Expeditions.

Death of General Montgomery.

An extract from Henry's account of the hardships and sufferings of that band of heroes, who traversed the wilderness in the campaign against Quebec, in 1775.

GENERAL MONTGOMERY had marched at the precise time stipulated, and had arrived at his destined point of attack, nearly about the time we attacked the first barrier. He was not one that would loiter. Colonel Campbell, of the New York troops, a large, good looking-man, who was second in command of that party, and was deemed a veteran, accompanied the army to the assault: his station was rearward; general Montgomery, with his aids. were at the point of the column.

It is impossible to give you a fair and complete idea, of the nature and situation of the place, solely with the pen-the pencil is required. As by the special permission of government, obtained by the good offices of captain Prentiss, in the summer following, Boyd, a few others, and myself, reviewed the causes of our disaster; it is therefore in my power, so far as my abilities will permit, to give you a tolerable notion of the spot. Cape Diamond nearly resembles the great jutting rock which is in the narrows at Hunter's falls, on the Susquehanna. The rock, at the latter place, shoots out as steeply, as that at Quebec, but by no means forms so great an angle, on the margin of the river, but is more craggy. There is a stronger and more obvious difference in the comparison. When you surmount the hill at St. Charles, or the St. Lawrence side, which, to the eye are equally high and steep, you find yourself on Abraham's plains, and upon an extensive champaign country. The bird's eye view round Quebec, bears a striking conformity to the sites of Northumberland and Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania; but the former is on a more gigantic scale, and each of the latter wants the steepness and cragginess of the back ground, and a depth of rivers, this detail is to instruct you in the geographical situation of Quebec, and for the sole purpose of explaining the manner of general Montgomery's death, and the reasons of our failure. From Wolfe's cove, there is a good beach, down to, and around

Cape Diamond." The bulwarks of the city came to the edge of the hill, above that place. Thence down the side of the precipice, slantingly to the brink of

H

the river, there was a stockade of strong posts, fifteen or twenty feet high, knit together by a stout railing, at bottom and top with pins. This was no mean defence, and was at the distance of one hundred yards from the point of the rock. Within this palisade, and at a few yards from the very point itself, there was a like palisade, though it did not run so high up the hill. Again, within Cape Diamond, and probably at a distance of fifty yards, there stood a block house, which seemed to take up the space between the foot of the hill, and the precipitous bank of the river, leaving a cart way, or passage, on each side of it. A block-house, if well constructed, is an admirable method of defence, which, in the process of the war, to our cost, was fully experienced. In the instance now before us, (though the house was not built upon the most approved principles,) yet it was a formidable object. It was a square of perhaps forty or fifty feet. The large logs neatly squared, were tightly bound together by dove-tail work. If I am not much mistaken, the lower story contained loop-holes for musquetry, so narrow, that those within could not be harmed from without. The upper story had four or more port-holes for cannon of a large callibre. These guns were charged with grape or cannister shot, and were pointed with exactness towards the avenue, at Cape Diamond. The hero Montgomery came. The drowsy or drunken guard did not hear the sawing of the posts of the first palisade. Here, if not very erroneous, four posts were sawed and thrown aside, so as to admit four men abreast. The column entered with a manly fortitude. Montgomery, accompanied by his aids, M'Pherson and Cheeseman, advanced in front. Arriving at the second palisade, the general, with his own hands, sawed down two of the pickets, in such a manner as to admit two men abreast. These sawed pickets were close under the hill, and but a few yards from the very point of the rock, out of the view and fire of the enemy, from the block-house. Until our troops advanced to the point, no harm could ensue, but by stones thrown from above. Even now, there had been but an imperfect discovery of the advancing of an enemy, and that only by the intoxicated guard. The guard fled; the general advanced a few paces. A drunken sailor returned to his gun, swearing he would not forsake it while undischarged. This fact is related

from the testimony of the guard on the morning of our capture, some of those sailors being our guard. Applying the match, this single discharge deprived us of our excellent commander.

Examining the spot, the officer who escorted us, professing to be one of those who first came to the place, after the death of the general, shewed the position in which the general's body was found. It lay two paces from the brink of the river, on the back; the arms extended -Cheesman lay on the left, and M'Pherson on the right, in a triangular position. Two other brave men lay near them. The ground above described was visited by an inquisitive eye; so that you may rely, with some implicitness, on the truth of the picture. As all danger from without had vanished, the government had not only permitted the mutilated palisades to remain, without reviewing the enclosure, but the very sticks, sawed by the hand of our commander, still lay strewed about the spot.

Surrender of Lord Cornwallis.

AT two o'clock in the evening, the British army, led by general O'Hara, marched out of its lines, with colors cased, and drums beating a British march.

The author was present at this ceremony; and certainly no spectacle could be more impressive than the one now exhibited. Valient troops yielding up their arms after fighting in defence of a cause dear to them (because the cause of their country) under a leader, who, throughout the war, in every grade and in every situation to which he had been called, appeared the Hector of his host. Battle after battle had he fought; climate after climate had he endured; towns had yielded to his mandate; posts were abandoned at his approach; armies were conquered by his prowess; one nearly exterminated, another chased from the confines of South Carolina, beyond the Dan, into Virginia. And a third severely chas tised in that state on the shores of James river. But here, even he, in the midst of his splendid career, found his conqueror.

The road through which they marched was lined with spectators, French and American. On one side the commander in chief surrounded by his suite, and the American staff, took his station; on the other side, opposite to him, was the count Rochambeau, in like manner attended. The captive army approached, moving slowly in column, with grace and precision. Universal silence was observed amidst the vast concourse, and the utmost decency prevailed: exhibiting in demeanor an awful sense of the vicissitudes of human life, mingled with commiseration for the unhappy. The head of the column approached the commander in chief-O'Hara, mistaking the circle, turned to that on his left, for the purpose of paying his respects to the commander in chief, and requesting further orders: when quickly discovering his error, with much embarrassment in his countenance, he flew across the road, and advancing up to Washington, asked pardon for his mistake, apologized for the absence of lord Cornwallis, and begged to know his further pleagure. The general, feeling his embarrassment, relieved it by referring him with much politeness to general Lincoln, for his government. Returning to the head of the column, it again moved, under the guidance of Lincoln, to the field selected for the conclusion of the ceremony.

Every eye was turned, searching for the British commander in chief, anxious to look at that man, heretofore so much the object of their dread. All were disappointed. Cornwallis held himself back from the humiliating scene: obeying sensations which his great character ought to have stifled. He had been unfortunate, not from any false step or deficiency of exertion on his part, but from the infatuated policy of his superior, and the united force of his enemy, brought to bear upon him alone. There was nothing with which he could reproach himself; there was nothing with which he could reproach his brave and faithful army: why not then appear at its head in the day of misfortune, as he had always done in the day of triumph? The British general, in this instance, deviated from his usual line of conduct, dimming the splendour of his long and brilliant career.

Lee's Memoirs of the Southern War.