this purpose, he excused them from certain kinds of work on Sundays, that they might go to church; and adds: "The General is sorry to be informed that the foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and swearing- a vice heretofore little known in an American army—is growing into fashion. . .

It is a vice so mean and low, without any temptation, that every man of sense and character detests and despises it."

At last, towards the end of August, the enemy began to land on Long Island. Hessian and British regiments were plainly seen, the noise of cannon was occasionally heard, and puffs of smoke curled up over the thick woods. The British, however, were very leisurely in their movements; and, for some time, Washington could not decide whether they would attack the works on Long Island while the ships sailed up to the city, or would combine their forces on one enterprise. Gen. Greene commanded the troops on Long Island, distant about a mile from the village of Brooklyn; but, unfortunately, his severe illness made it necessary to send over Gen. Putnam almost at the last moment. This was a great disadvantage, as he could not make himself familiar with the ground.

On the night of the 26th of August, the British marched from their landing-place; and, at daybreak the next morning, the battle of Long Island began. The attacking army marched in three divisions; and the Americans had unhappily left an unguarded road, by which one body was enabled to come up and surround those Americans who were engaged with another division of the enemy. The American generals did not penetrate at all the British plan: they therefore sent out what they considered a sufficient force to meet two attacks; but, when the poor fellows attempted to retreat to the lines, a third supply of fresh British troops cut them to pieces. The young Americans fought bravely, and even desperately; but the Hessians showed no mercy, and despatched them with the bayonet when they were too near for firing.

This was hardly a regular battle; for the three 'British generals attacked in different places, and then waited until they could join each other successfully; so that there were long pauses in the fighting.

At dawn, the roar of cannon had aroused the city of New York. As soon as Gen. Washington found that the wind was against the ships, and that there would be no attempt on the city, he hurried over to

the scene of action.

Taking his station on a high hill, his telescope soon showed him the mistakes of his officers, and their ignorance of the enemy's numbers. The ground was so wooded, that the plan of attack could not be perceived by any one fighting. It was too late to change the orders. He could only watch the defeat; and, when the gallant Marylanders were shut in between two British columns, Washington wrung his hands in agony at the sight. "Good God!" cried he, "what brave fellows I must this day lose?" As soon as those who accomplished their retreat were within the lines, Washington prepared for an immediate assault from the enemy; but the British commander preferred to spare life, and trust to time for giving him the place.

Among the various causes of this day's defeat were the enemy's greater numbers; the illness of Gen. Greene; the long uncertainty in which the Commander-in-chief was kept; and, last and chiefly, that unguarded road. The despised Connecticut horsemen might have scoured the country, and brought such news of the enemy's motions as would have saved the lives of the brave Southerners who laughed at them.

The night after the battle was a dismal one. The

wounded suffered, as they always must at such times. There were few tents; and the weary, dispirited troops must watch, and be prepared; for their strong enemy was not a mile off. Washington went the rounds at four o'clock in the morning, to see that all was right, and to cheer the men, though anxious enough himself.

The next day no attack was made, and fresh American troops arrived from the upper end of Manhattan Island; but, during the morning, the motions of the ships were so alarming, that, lest the army should be surrounded, Washington, with his council of officers, decided to take his troops back to New York that very night.

Imagine how many boats would be needed to carry over nine thousand men, heavy guns, horses, provisions, powder and shot, and all the necessities of an army. Then, too, all orders must be given secretly; and there must not be noise enough to alarm the enemy, who were within hearing. The soldiers were only told to be ready for a night attack; which seemed strange to them, tired as they were, and with their guns wet with fog and rain.

In the evening, the retreat began. Gen. Washington went directly to the ferry, and there super

intended all the embarkation. In the dead of night, while the Americans were moving as silently as possible, a cannon went off with a tremendous roar! The Americans could not stop to ascertain the cause; but it did not disturb the British. Fortunately, there was a thick fog, so that the enemy could not see what was going on; and Gen. Mifflin was left with a few troops to keep guard and station sentinels, just as if the army were within the lines. An aid brought him Washington's order to call in his men, and join him at the landing. It was a blunder on the part of the aid. There was some confusion at the ferry in getting off those troops which had already arrived there; and Washington saw, with horror, Gen. Mifflin and his men appear too soon. He hastily explained to Mifflin that it was a mistake, and that they must turn back, for fear of ruining the whole plan.

That handful of men did turn back, at the risk of meeting the enemy, when they must have been destroyed. How unwillingly they must have left their fellow-soldiers on the shore! They found the works still empty, took their places again, and waited till they were sent for. When, at last, they crossed,

their Commander-in-chief followed them.