by the vigilance of Greene; who threw himself in their front, and, after an obstinate conflict, drove them back, with considerable slaughter. He, also, from a well chosen and commanding position, directed, from his cannon, with great effect, an enfilading fire, against a party of the British, who were menacing the left.'

General Pigot, with a division of about six thousand British troops, had been, for some time, in possession of Newport, in the state of Rhode Island.

"The arrival of the French fleet, afforded a favourable opportunity, for operating against that post, both by sea and land; the only mode, in which it could be assailed, with any reasonable prospect of success.

'An expedition of the combined forces, for its reduction, was accordingly concerted; to be under the command of general Sullivan. General Greene, being a native of Rhode Island, and of high popularity and influence, in that state, it was deemed important, that he should be present, as second in command. He received orders, therefore, to proceed, at the head of a detachment of continental troops, and join general Sullivan, in the projected enterprise. 'A duty more consonant to his spirit, or more peculiarly gratifying to the feelings of his heart, could not have been assigned him. 'His return to his native state, to liberate, from military domination and rapacity, the soil his infant feet had trodden, and the patrons, friends, and associates of his youth, was hailed, by the inhabitants, with general and lively demonstrations of joy. With an alacrity and promptitude, unprecedented, in the place, the militia of the state, with several companies from that of Massachusetts, crowded to his standard, anxious to receive his commands, and signalize, in his presence, their patriotism and valour. Hope beamed from every countenance, and a confidence was enkindled in every bosom, that the hour of vengeance, on their haughty and tyrannical invaders, was at hand. In that particular section of the country, and at that moment of enthusiasm, and laudable pride, the name of Greene, was scarcely inferior to that of Washington. Although but second, or rather, third in rank, count d'Estaing being equal in command with general Sullivan, every eye was fixed on him, as the soul and tutelary genius of the enterprise. Even leading members of the society of Friends, who had very reluctantly excluded him from their communion, did not hesitate to express their sincere satisfaction, at the elevation he had attained, in the confidence of his country. They often visited him, at his quarters, partook of his hospitality, and conversed with him freely, on public affairs.

Nor did their kindness and attention, terminate in the mere exterior of social intercourse. Through the liberality of their spirit, his table was, oftentimes, very bounteously supplied, with the choicest viands, fruits, and wines, that their farms, orchards, and cellars afforded. One of these plain gentlemen, being asked, in jest, by a young officer, how he, an advocate of peace, could reconcile

it to his conscience, to keep so much company with general Greene, whose profession was war? promptly replied, " Friend, it is not a suit of uniform, that can either make, or spoil a man. True, I do not approve of this many-coloured apparel (pointing to the officer's dress;) but, whatever may be the form or colour of his coat, Nathaniel Greene still retains the same sound head, and virtuous heart, that gained him the love and esteem of our society. As I believe it would be in vain, for me, to endeavour to persuade him to relinquish his present dress and mode of life, I have no other way to partake of his society, but to visit him, as he is; and that is a satisfaction, I am unwilling to resign."

Another gentleman, a member of high standing, in the same society, was heard to declare, that, with the exception of his having adopted the profession of arms, his "neighbour, Nathaniel Greene, was one of the most correct, and unoffending men, he had ever known. It is true," continued he, "that he had, always, a disposition, to influence others, and make them think, and act with him; but this he never attempted, by unfair means: he did it, by convincing them, that they were wrong and he was right; and this was his custom, when he was a very young man."

'These testimonials are the more valuable, because they relate to private worth; and are furnished by men, under no temptation to deceive, who had long and familiarly known the subject of them.

'The French admiral showing a strong disposition to an abandonment of his part of the combined operations, against the enemy, general Greene, by order of general Sullivan, repaired on board his flag ship, to confer with him, and, if necessary, to remonstrate, on the subject. This he did, with great earnestness, pertinency and force; but without the effect, which the validity of his arguments was calculated to produce.'

The French fleet having, at length, disappeared, and the American forces being left, in a critical situation, to contend, with the enemy, single handed, the utmost policy and skill, on the part of the general officers, became requisite to save the army from ruin.'

'After a severe action, in which the American forces manifested the utmost firmness, and fought with great effect, general Greene, predicting that a large reinforcement of the enemy, from New York, must be near at hand, advised the commander in chief of the station, to retreat from the island, without further delay.

'Providentially the advice was followed. General Greene signalized himself, by his skill, activity, and judgment, in conducting the retreat, which was but just effected, when the anticipated reinforcement, actually appeared. Had this movement, which took place, chiefly, in the night, been delayed but a few hours, the capture, or destruction of the army of Sullivan would have been inevitable.'

In the melancholy catastrophe of Andre's tragedy Greene bore also an important part. When Andre's request to be shot, instead of being hanged, was before the council of officers, his reasoning on the subject, is thus given by his biographer; "" Andre," said

he," is either a spy, or an innocent man. If the latter, to execute him, in any way, will be murder: if the former, the mode of his death is prescribed by law, and you have no right to alter it. Nor is this all. At the present alarming crisis of our affairs, the public safety calls for a solemn and impressive example. Nothing can satisfy it, short of the execution of the prisoner, as a common spy; a character, of which his own confession has clearly convicted him. Beware how you suffer your feelings to triumph over your judg ment. Indulgence to one, may be death to thousands. Through mistaken sensibility, humanity may be wounded, and the cause of freedom sustain an injury you cannot remedy.

"Besides, if you shoot the prisoner, instead of hanging him, you will excite suspicions, which you will be unable to allay. Notwithstanding all your efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public compassion, and the belief will become general, that, in the case of major Andre, there were exculpatory circumstances, entitling him to lenity, beyond what he received-perhaps entitling him to pardon. Hang him, therefore, or set him free."

'This reasoning being considered conclusive, the prisoner suffered as a common spy.'

At this period of the war, the British arms had been particularly successful in the Carolinas and Georgia, and their almost entire occupation of these states, threatened the American confederacy with a fatal dismemberment. General Gates, fresh from his conquests in the north, and with his newly acquired glory still undimmed, was sent thither to repair by the potency of his genius and the magic of his name, the misfortunes which had befallen the cause of the revolution. The battle of Cambden, it is well recollected, destroyed all the fondly cherished anticipations of his success; and, it became necessary, as Washington could not be spared from the north, to send an officer that was next to him in the estimation of the country. The selection of general Greene spake audibly the public sentiment on the subject of his qualifications; and public expectation was not disappointed.

That part of the volume which treats of his exploits in the southern states, of the vast difficulties which he overcame, and the immense disadvantages under which he laboured so successfully, has necessarily, so much general history interwoven with the personal biography, that it is less easy to give an abstract from it. The battles at the Cowpens, Guilford Court-house, Cambden, Ninety Six, Eutaw, &c., are, indeed, described chiefly by quotation from general Lee's Memoirs.' Greene's activity and able captainship displayed in opposition to the distinguished talents of lord Cornwallis, Tarleton, and lord Rawdon, are well known, and procured him at the time a compliment as lofty, as was ever paid to the commander of an army.

""Other generals," said the chevalier Luzerne, to a gentleman of high standing, who now resides in the city of Philadelphia, "subdue their enemy by the means with which their country, or

He

their sovereign furnishes them. But general Greene appears to subdue his enemy by his own means. He commenced his campaign, without either an army, provisions, or military stores. has asked for nothing since, and yet scarcely a post arrives from the south, that does not bring intelligence of some new advantage he has gained over the foe. He conquers, by magic. History furnishes no parallel to this."

As an episode to the story of the bloody conflict at Eutaw Springs, we are presented with the following interesting relation. 'Two young officers bearing the same rank met in personal combat. The American perceiving that the Briton had a decided superiority, in the use of the sabre, and being himself of great activity, and personal strength almost gigantic, closed with his adversary and made him his prisoner.

"Gentlemanly, generous, and high minded, this event, added to a personal resemblance which they were observed to bear to each other, produced between these two youthful warriors an intimacy, which increased in a short time, to a mutual attachment.

'Not long after the action, the American officer returning home, on furlough, to settle some private business, obtained permission for his friend to accompany him.

'Travelling without any attendants or guard, they were both armed and well mounted. Part of their route lay through a settlement highly disaffected to the American cause.

"When in the midst of this, having, in consequence of a shower of rain, thrown around them their cloaks, which concealed their uniforms, they were suddenly encountered by a detachment of tories. 'The young American, determined to die rather than become a prisoner, especially to men whom he held in abhorrence for disloyalty to their country, and the generous Briton resolved not to survive one by whom he had been distinguished and treated so kindly, they both together, with great spirit and self-possession, charged the royalists, having first made signals in their rear, as if directing others to follow them; and thus, without injury on either side, had the address and good fortune to put the party to flight.

Arriving in safety at their place of destination, what was their surprise and augmented satisfaction, on finding, from some questions proposed by the American officer's father, that they were first cousins!

'With increasing delight the young Briton passed several weeks in the family of his kinsman, where the writer of this narrative saw him daily, and often listened, with the rapture of a child, to the checkered story of his military adventures.

'To heighten the occurrence, and render it more romantic, the American officer had a sister, beautiful and accomplished, whose heart soon felt for the gallant stranger, more than the affection due to a cousin. The attachment was mutual.

'But here the adventure assumes a tragical cast. The youthful foreigner, being exchanged, was summoned to return to his regi

ment. The message was fatal to his peace. But military honour demanded the sacrifice; and the lady, generous and high minded as himself, would not be instrumental in dimming his laurels.

The parting scene was a high-wrought picture of tenderness and sorrow. On taking leave, the parties mutually bound themselves, by a solemn promise, to remain single a certain number of years, in the hope that an arrangement contemplated might again bring them together. A few weeks afterwards, the lady expired under an attack of small pox. The fate of the officer we never learnt.'

The closing campaign, although less fruitful in field service, was not without its difficulties of the most trying kind. The army suffered under every privation.

'Greene's own letters, at this period, present a forcible picture of the deplorable condition, to which the army was reduced, and the infinite difficulties he had to encounter in keeping the field. "I would order," says he, to the secretary at war, 66 the returns you require, but we really have not paper enough to make them out; not having had, for months past, even paper to make provision returns, or to record the necessary returns of the army."

"Again-"Since we have been in the lower country, through the difficulty of transportation, we have been four weeks without ammunition, while there was plenty of this article in Charlotte. We lay within a few miles of the enemy with not six rounds a man. Had they got knowledge and availed themselves of our situation, they might have ruined us."

"You can have little idea of the confusion and disorder, which prevail among the southern states. Our difficulties are so numerous, and our wants so pressing, that I have not a moment's relief from the most painful anxieties."

"A great part of our troops are in a deplorable situation for want of clothing. We have three hundred men without arms; and more than a thousand so naked, that they can be put on duty only in cases of a desperate nature. We have been all winter in want of arms and clothing. The subsistence of the army is wretched, and we are without rum or any other kind of spirits."

'Superadded to the deep anxieties he felt on account of the suffering condition of his army, general Greene experienced solicitudes exceedingly painful, from considerations of a personal nature.

"I was well informed," said he, in a letter to the secretary at war, "that you had let in some prejudices to my disadvantage; such as my being more influenced by men than measures; and that, in the field, I had neither activity nor enterprise. However mortifying these things were, my pride would not suffer me to undeceive you; and such was my situation, at the time, that it would have been difficult, if not impossible, had I attempted it. My military conduct must speak for itself. I have only to observe, that I have not been at liberty to follow my own genius, until lately; and here I have had more embarrassment, than it is proper to disclose to