the ground with bloody feet. In the best equipped corps a blanket sufficed for four men. They crossed the Dan on the 15th of February. This was the main portion of the army. Certain detachments were still scattered over the country, harassing the British in pursuit. They came up in time, however, the last of them crossing the river at dusk. As the last files ascended the northern bank of the Dan the British rushed into sight on the southern. The prey had escaped again. Greene had now led his little army more than two hundred miles through a perilous country, swarming with Tories, in the breaking up of winter, when the roads were soaked with incessant rains. He had contrived to elude the enemy, whose numbers were far superior to his own, leading him a wild-goose chase, away from the strongholds of his power. Unable to fight, the wily blacksmith conquered his foe by a series of masterly retreats. "Your retreat before Corwallis," Washington wrote him," is highly applauded by all ranks, and reflects much honor on your military abilities." From the day that he joined Morgan on the banks of the Catawba, Greene had never once undressed himself for sleep! Not deeming it advisable to pursue the Americans any further, Cornwallis broke up his camp on the Dan on the 18th of February, and wheeling about, marched direct to Hillsborough. In the meantime Greene had received several important accessions to his force, and feeling strong enough to justify the step, he crossed the Dan on the 23d with his whole army. A series of skirmishes, such as always take place when two armies are in the neighborhood of each other, from time to time enlivened the monotony of their progress. Cornwallis abandoned Hillsborough on the 26th, and threw himself across the Haw, taking post near Allemance Creek, one of its principal tributaries. Greene followed him, and crossing the Haw near its source, halted near Troublesome Creek. From this point his light troops continually hovered about the enemy, darting upon his foraging parties, cutting off his supplies and intelligence, beating up his quarters; in short, exhausting him by all sorts of annoyances. Cornwallis attempted to cut off Greene's detachments, but failing in his object, he took post at Bell's Mills, on Deep River. Greene's army now amounted to above four thousand men, which was one third more than that of the enemy. He accordingly advanced to Guilford Court House, taking post on the 14th of March, 1781, within twelve miles of the British. This was challeng ing distance, according to the usages of war, and Cornwallis prepared for action. On the morning of the 15th Greene drew up his army in battle array. The van of the enemy appeared about one o'clock, and was welcomed by two pieces of artillery, which had been placed in the road in advance of the first line of the Americans. He answered from an eminence over the head of his own columns. In the intervals of the fire Cornwallis pushed his sections across the defile, and displayed them under cover of an intervening wood. The American line, consisting of one thousand North Carolina militia, fired a scattered shot, and were seized with a panic. They fled in spite of the efforts of their officers, who threw themselves across their path, some darting through the wood, and others seeking shelter in the rear of the second line of Virginia militia, by whom they were received with hisses. The British rushed forward in pursuit, but were for a time checked by by cross fires from the flanking parties of Washington and Lee. The latter, however, were at last compelled to retreat, which they did in an orderly manner, firing calmly as they moved backward, only yielding before the pressure of the bayonet. In the meantime the British line were engaged with the American second line, who received them royally, militia though they were. They were capital marksmen, armed with excellent rifles, and every bullet told. Wide gaps were soon opened in the British files. The steady valor of the latter, aided by their invincible bayonets, prevailed, and the American right began to yield. The flanking party of Washington moved back, and took post on the right of the third line of Continentals. The British left now came up to them, confident of victory, but the Continentals, withholding their fire until the enemy were within a proper range, gave them a volley, and immediately followed it up by a bayonet charge, which sent them reeling back in confusion. Had the American cavalry been present, the British could not have recovered themselves; as it was, their general, who was grievously wounded, on Hobkirk's Hill. He encamped in order of battle, holding himself in constant expectation of an attack. On the morning of the 25th of April Rawdon approached. The American troops were at breakfast; Greene and his aids were indulging in the unusual luxury of a cup of coffee. The sound of fire-arms was heard in the distance, and the drums rolled near at hand; they rose, and were soon in battle array. The whole force of Greene only enabled Corn-him to form one line; behind this line he had marked his pieces. Assuming Greene to be without artillery, Rawdon brought none; his surprise may be imagined when that of Greene opened upon him. His men were confused and dismayed. Greene seized the moment of their greatest confusion, and ordered a charge, intending to close on their flanks right and left; but before his cavalry and infantry could make the necessary circuit, Rawdon saw the danger which awaited him, and changed his position, outflanking the Americans, and enfilading their wings; in short exposing them to the very peril from which he had just escaped. A momentary recoil followed on the part of the Americans; the fire of the British drew the fire of the American center, when their orders had been to reserve it. The fall of a number of their officers threw the Maryland regiments in confusion; a retreat ensued, and the field was lost. Greene determined to save his artillery, and just as the matrosses were quitting the drag-ropes he galloped up alone, and, throwing himself from his horse, seized the ropes with his own hands. Some of his men now rushed up to help him, holding their guns in one hand, while with the other they dragged off the ponderous pieces. A band of British cavalry attempted to stop them; they dropped the ropes long enough to fire, and then resumed their progress. Again and again the cavalry returned to the charge, but only to be foiled and driven back by the sharp fire of these extempore artillerists. But now the British infantry had come up, and their marksmen, scattered among the trees, began to pick off the Americans in turn. Out of forty-five of the latter, soon only fourteen remained; at last they were all slain, or taken prisoners. The artillery now seemed lost, but at this moment Colonel Washington charged down the road with his cavalry and put the enemy to flight. Greene saved his beloved can could but just draw them off, and wait for Greene's next movement was against Camden, then in the possession of Lord Rawdon. He hoped to surprise him, but the runners of the Tories had preceded the American army, bearing the news of Cornwallis's retrograde movement; this, and a delay of several days at the Pee Dee, occasioned by a want of boats for crossing, enabled Rawdon to strengthen himself. Having no battering cannon with which to reduce the place, Greene pitched his tents non, and continued the retreat. On the 7th of September Greene reached the Congaree, seven miles from the Eutaw Springs. Here he effected a junction with his detachments, and made his preparations for battle. His baggage, tents, and everything that might delay or embarrass him had been left behind. With the exception of the tumbrils, the artillery, and two wagons containing hospital stores and rum, he had no wheeled vehicles with him. His force consisted of about two thousand men ; the British outnumbered him some three hundred, or more. The American army moved from its bivouac about four in the morning. A couple of deserters carried the intelligence to Stuart, the British commander, who sent out a detachment of infantry and horse to bring in his foragers. This detachment was driven back. In the meantime Stuart had made his preparations for defense. His advance retired before the American front line, a body of stalwart militia, commanded by Pickens and Marion. When the latter drew near the British army, which opened to let the advance pass to the rear, they halted, and wheeling their field pieces forward, commenced the battle. Volleys of musketry were poured into them from the British line, but the sharp ring of their unerring rifles told upon the ranks of the enemy. Ere long their artillery was demolished; but they still continued to fight, receiving the fire of a line more than twice the number of their own. They delivered seventeen rounds, when a forward movement of the British compelled them to fall back. Three battalions of North Carolinans were ordered to their support. Stuart ordered up the infantry of his reserve, and the conflict commenced anew. The whole strength of the British army was now engaged in the mêlée; the greater part of the American second line, with all their reserve and cavalry, were fresh and ready for action. The American center yielded, and the British, thinking the victory won, rushed upon them, shouting and disorderly. This was the moment for which Greene had been waiting, and he ordered the field to be swept by his bayonets. The Maryland and Virginia regiments rushed forward with trailing arms, reserving their fire till within forty yards This detachment of the enemy was at last routed by the Delaware infantry. The whole British line now fled before the bayonets of the Americans. The latter chased them to their encampment, taking prisoners at every step. Behind the British tents stood a two-story brick house, whose windows commanded all the space around. It was strong enough to resist the fire of infantry. A garden in the rear, inclosed by a picket fence, increased its facilities for defense. To this garden and house the fugitives ran, the foremost of the Americans at their heels. A struggle took place at the door, which was shut in the face of some of the British officers, who were thus made prisoners. Those who gained the house, however, soon revenged their loss with their rifles; they kept further pursuit at bay. Only the foremost and orderly part of the American army took part in this struggle. The remainder, a large majority, stopped rather long in the tents of the enemy, tempted by a liberal supply of old rum. Their officers strove to extricate them, passing from tent to tent, running the gauntlet of the garrison in the house, but all in vain. | of the enemy. The Virginians poured in a destructive volley, and pressed forward to finish the work with cold steel. They were seconded by the infantry of Lee, who delivered a heavy enfilading fire, and followed it up with a charge of bayonets. The British left were thrown into disorder. The Maryland regiment now threw in their fire, and the center and right were seized with a panic. The whole line of the enemy gave way and fled; some of them never stopped until they reached the gates of Charleston. The Americans pursued them to their camp. The extreme right of the British still maintained its ground, protected, in some degree, by a body of three hundred picked troops, under cover of the thickets which bordered the Eutaw. Greene ordered his cavalry to fall upon the enemy in the garden, and his artillery to batter the house. The latter took their guns, which had been dismounted at an early stage of the battle, and a couple of six pounders which the British had abandoned, and attempted to carry out his orders. They ran their pieces too near, and were swept down by a destructive storm of bullets from the house. The guns were left unmanned. The infantry charged, but failed to clear the garden. They recoiled, repulsed and broken. Greene drew off his forces, and rallied in the cover of the woods, leaving his drunken soldiers in the tents to the tender mercies of the enemy's bayonets. The British commander had gained a dubious victory, but he was too crippled to venture beyond the cover of the house. It was like most of the victories of the British over Greene, of no use to them. thousand guineas, and North Carolina twenty-four thousand acres of land. Congress subsequently gave him a testimonial in the shape of two pieces of field ordnance, which he had captured from the British; and ordered the substance of their complimentary resolution to be engraved upon them. After the evacuation of Charleston, but before the declaration of peace, a misunderstanding between Greene and the civil authorities in the matter of contracting for the necessities of the army, which was not yet disbanded, involved the former in serious pecuniary difficulties, which embittered the last days of his life. He carried his family to South Carolina, but being compelled to sell his lands in that state to satisfy the creditors of the contractor for whom he had been security, he removed to the estate which had been presented to him by the Legislature of Georgia. This was in the spring of 1785. He soon settled down in his new residence, and gave himself up to the delights of a farmer's life. Instead of writing of marches and countermarches, victories and defeats, his letters were fall of his grounds and garden. My garden is delightful," he writes in one of his rural epistles. "The fruit trees and shrubs form a pleasing variety. We have green peas almost fit to eat, and as fine lettuce as you ever saw. The mocking-birds surround us evening and morning. We have in the same orchard apples, pears, peaches, apricots, nectarines, plums of various kinds, figs, pomegranates, and oranges. And we have strawberries which measure three inches round." The extract is of no great consequence, perhaps, but it is pleas The battle of Eutaw was in reality the downfall of their power in the South, though they still continued to hold Charleston, and kept up a show of strength in other places. From time to time skirmishes came off between them and the forces of Greene, Marion, and other American officers, but none of much importance. A little more than a month after the bloody conflict at Eutaw Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown; and in December of the following year Charleston was evacuated. As the British marched out of the city the Americans marched in, headed by Mad Anthony and a band of infantry and cavalry. After Wayne's troops came a stately cavalcade, consisting of Greene, the governor and his suite, and the principal municipal and state authorities. The reader will be kind enough to imagine the denselycrowded streets, and the handkerchiefs waving at the windows; the tramp of the soldiers, the shining guns and flags; the triumphal music, the shouts, the happy tears. Before the evacuation of Charleston the Legislature assembled at Jack sonborough, and the governor in his opening address passed a high eulogium on Greene. He congratulated the rep-ant to read for all that. It shows us that resentative body on the pleasing change a great man like Greene was not above of affairs, whch had been effected, un- being interested in small things. (No der the blessing of God, by "the wis- great man, by the way, ever is.) Like dom, prudence, address, and bravery of Falstaff, when his end was near, he the great and gallant General Greene," babbled o' green fields." He died on and the intrepidity of the officers and men the 19th of June, 1786, from overheating under his command." The Senate de- himself in the rice-field of a friend, and clared itself impressed with a high sense was buried in Savannah. His body was of his eminent services, and unanimously placed in an obscure vault, the locality of voted him their thanks for his distin- which was soon lost. No matter how guished zeal and generalship. The House much his country may wish it, there can expressed itself similarly, and showed its be no monument raised above his bones. gratitude in a more substantial manner by He sleeps in an unknown sepulcher. originating a bill "for vesting in General Nathaniel Greene, in consideration of his important services, the sum of ten thousand guineas." Georgia voted him five 66 The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour. The paths of glory lead but to the grave. water pure and clear as crystal. Among the primeval forest trees, which form a dense hedge around its borders, are glorious specimens of the dark hemlock and stately pine. A more utterly solitary spot is not often found; the foot of man rarely treads its precincts. Huge trunks of trees have fallen in all directions, and now appear in various stages of decay. The moss of ages has crept over the forest. Here nature reigns in a primitive solitude, disturbed only by an occasional sportsman in pursuit of game. Few portions of the Adirondack present a scene more thoroughly wild. High towering above its compeers, upon a bold point jutting out into the lake, stands a majestic pine, its outline darkly penciled against the sky. There is a something mysterious and weird-like in this lofty monarch of the lake. Widely stretch its branches; it receives neither shelter nor protection PICTURESQUE VIEWS IN CONNECTICUT. F a confident MAR up among the hills of Litchfield | from its neighbors, but boldly lifts itself its strength to defy alone the storm and tempest's breath. And thus it doubtless stood when the elastic steps of the red man was becoming less and less frequent upon the borders of the lake, and at last gave place to the tread of his subduer. This wild scene, of which I have endeavored to give a pen as well as pencil picture, is known as Dolphin Pond. Aside from its sequestered and impressive beauty, it possesses a degree of interest as the source of the Naugatuck. This stream, boisterous and frolick some as is its after course, assumes in its infancy a sober mood. Leaving its secluded birth-place, to commence its wanderings, lazily it starts upon its course; perhaps apprised that in youth as well as maturity it has Herculean tasks to perform; but soon changes its mind, and begins its characteristic sports and gambols. Dolphin Pond is situated in the town |