Lafayette, on his way to board the Alliance, rode into the town of Fishkill-on-the-Hudson, and there fell ill of fever. He had been entertained by people all the way from Philadelphia to the camp on the Hudson, and these constant receptions, combined with chilly and wet weather, brought on malaria. The Marquis was very sick; Washington rode daily from his camp eight miles away to inquire about Lafayette’s condition, and insisted on his own physician taking charge of the patient. And when the young Frenchman recovered the commander-in-chief sent his physician on to Boston with him, and wrote him, “I am persuaded, my dear marquis, that there is no need of fresh proofs to convince you either of my affection for you personally or of the high opinion I entertain of your military talents and merit.”

The strongest affection bound these two men, so different in many respects, so alike in their love of liberty and honor. On board his ship in Boston Harbor Lafayette added a postscript to a letter to Washington. “The sails are just going to be hoisted, my dear general,” he said, “and I have but time to take my last leave of you.... Farewell. I hope your French friend will ever be dear to you; I hope I shall soon see you again, and tell you myself with what emotion I now leave the coast you inhabit and with what affection and respect I am forever, my dear general, your respectful and sincere friend, Lafayette.”

On January 11, 1779, the Alliance sailed for France, having had so much difficulty in making up its crew that a number of English prisoners and deserters had been pressed into service as sailors. This makeshift crew came very near to proving disastrous for the Marquis. An English law offered to pay the full value of any American ship to the crew that would bring it into an English port, and there were considerably more English prisoners and deserters in the crew of the Alliance than there were American and French sailors. The Alliance was approaching the French coast, having just weathered a storm, when a sailor ran into the cabin where the officers were sitting. He said that the prisoners and deserters who had been pressed into service had planned a mutiny, and that, taking him for an Irishman, they had offered him the command in case of success. A lookout was to give the signal “Sail ho!” and as the officers came on deck in a group they were to be shot down by cannon loaded with grape-shot and the ship sailed into an English port, where the mutineers would divide the profits. The loyal American sailor said that the signal would be given in about an hour.

Immediately the officers seized their swords, and, rushing on deck, called the Americans and Frenchmen together. The thirty-three mutineers, taken by surprise, were captured and clapped into irons, and the rest of the crew sailed the Alliance into the French harbor of Brest a week later.

Here Lafayette was welcomed with delight. The young fellow who had run away to sea in the Victory was returning like a hero in a war-ship of the new American republic. In triumph he landed at Brest, and as he hurried to Paris to see his family he was greeted by joyful crowds all along his route. He stopped at the royal palace of Versailles, and his old friend Marie Antoinette came out into the gardens to hear him tell his adventures. King Louis sent for him, and ordered him under arrest as a deserter, but with a twinkling eye declared that his prison should be his father-in-law’s great house in Paris, and his jailer his wife Adrienne. Then the King forgave him for running away to America, congratulated him, and, with his ministers, consulted the Marquis about affairs in the United States. Lafayette said, “I had the honor of being consulted by all the ministers and, what was a great deal better, of being kissed by all the women.”

The welcome he cared for the most was that from his wife, who had followed him in her thoughts all the time he had been in America, and had always sympathized with him and wished success for his plans. The Duke d’Ayen was delighted to see him and welcomed him to his house with open arms. Whenever the Marquis appeared on the street he was cheered by admiring throngs. The actors in the theatres put special words in their parts to honor Lafayette; poems were written about him; and the young man of twenty-one became the lion of Paris.

In a sense he represented the connecting link in the alliance that now united the two countries, and that alliance was in great favor with the people. He also stood for that ideal of “liberty” which was rapidly becoming the ruling thought of France. It would have been easy for him to rest on his laurels now, and feel that he had accomplished all that was needed of him.

But instead he used all this hero-worship to further his one aim—more help for the young republic across the sea. “In the midst of the whirl of excitement by which I was carried along,” he said, “I never lost sight of the revolution, the success of which still seemed to me to be extremely uncertain; accustomed as I was to seeing great purposes accomplished with slender means, I used to say to myself that the cost of a single fÊte would have equipped the army of the United States, and in order to provide clothes for them I would gladly have stripped the palace at Versailles.”

With this desire to help the United States ever in his thoughts he went to see Benjamin Franklin, and with Franklin and the American sea-captain John Paul Jones he planned an expedition against England in which he should lead the land forces and Paul Jones command the fleet. While they were arranging this the French government suggested a greater plan. Spain was to unite with France in defense of America. Details were being worked out when John Paul Jones embarked in his ship, the Bon Homme Richard, and had his famous sea-fight with the Serapis. But the Spanish government delayed and at last the French gave up the idea of a joint attack on England.

Meantime Lafayette joined the French army again and was commissioned a colonel of the King’s Dragoons. While he was waiting at Havre he was presented by Franklin’s grandson with the sword that the Congress of the United States had ordered should be given to him. It was a beautiful sword; the handle was of gold, exquisitely wrought, and decorated, as well as the blade, with figures emblematical of Lafayette’s career in America, with his coat of arms and his motto, “Cur non?”

And while he waited he was always impatient to be of help to his friends across the Atlantic. To Washington he wrote, “However happy I find myself in France, however well treated by my country and my king, I am so accustomed to being near to you, I am bound to you, to America, to my companions in arms by such an affection, that the moment when I sail for your country will be among the happiest and most wished for of my life.”

His great work during that year he spent in France was the winning of a French army, under the Count de Rochambeau, to fight by the side of the Americans. There was opposition to this at first, for neither Louis XVI. nor Marie Antoinette nor the royal princes who surrounded them cared to encourage the spirit of liberty too far. But the people, backed by their hero, Lafayette, demanded it, and at last their persistency won the day. The government of France decided to send an army, commanded by Rochambeau, lieutenant-general of the royal forces, with a fleet of warships and transports and six thousand soldiers, to the aid of America.

Lafayette was sent ahead to carry the welcome news to Washington and Congress, and to let them know that there would be no more of the jealousies and disputes that had hindered the success of the French and Americans in the field before. For Lafayette had arranged that the French troops should be under Washington’s orders, that they should accept the leadership of the American officers on the latter’s own ground, and that officers of the United States should be recognized as having equal rank with those of France. This harmony that Lafayette secured had a great deal to do with the final successful outcome of the American Revolution.

He sailed on the French frigate Hermione, and reached Boston on April 28, 1780. The people of Boston escorted him with cheers to the house of Governor John Hancock on Beacon Hill. This was the same John Hancock who had once turned Lafayette over to Gouverneur Morris with scarcely a word of welcome, but he greeted him differently now. Instead of being an adventurous foreign recruit the Marquis was a major-general in the American army and the official representative of the court of France.

From Boston he went to Morristown, where Washington had his headquarters, and there the two friends discussed the situation. Lafayette told of the coming of the French fleet and army, which brought the greatest joy to the commander-in-chief, because he could only speak of the hardships his soldiers had borne during the winter, the difficulty of securing recruits, and the general discouragement of the country. Greatly cheered himself, he sent Lafayette to Philadelphia to make his report to Congress, and set himself to the work of rousing his army and the people to welcome the men from France.

In Philadelphia Lafayette received the thanks of Congress for his services in Europe, and then busied himself with the equipment of the army. Washington’s troops certainly needed some attention. Half-fed and half-clothed, with only four thousand out of six thousand soldiers fit for duty, they presented so sorry an appearance that Lafayette said to the president of Congress, “though I have been directed to furnish the French court and the French generals with early and minute intelligence, I confess that pride has stopped my pen and, notwithstanding past promises, I have avoided entering into any details till our army is put in a better and more decent situation.”

But Washington roused Congress and the country, and by the time the French fleet arrived the American army was in much better condition.

On July 10, 1780, the Count de Rochambeau, with the French army, reached Newport, and the French commander, informing Washington of his arrival, declared, as his government had instructed him, “We are now, sir, under your command.”

Plans had to be laid, arrangements made for the union of the French and American armies, and much time was taken up in military discussions. One of Lafayette’s pet schemes was broached again, the invasion of Canada by the joint forces, and the details of this invasion were entrusted to General Benedict Arnold, who was to be in command. On September twentieth Washington, with Lafayette and General Knox, met the Count de Rochambeau and Admiral de Terney, who commanded the French fleet, and final arrangements were made. But at this very moment events were taking place which were to frustrate the scheme.

For at the very moment when Washington and Rochambeau were in conference at Hartford Benedict Arnold and Major John AndrÉ, of the British army, were holding a secret meeting, the object of which was to give Washington’s plans to the enemy. It so happened that Washington, when he left Hartford with Knox and Lafayette, took a roundabout road in order to show the Marquis the fortifications which had been built at West Point in his absence. On the morning of September twenty-fourth the party of American officers arrived within a mile of the Robinson house, where Mrs. Benedict Arnold was expecting them at breakfast.

Washington, absorbed in his work, was about to ride on when Lafayette reminded him of Mrs. Arnold’s invitation. The commander-in-chief laughed. “Ah, Marquis,” he said, “you young men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold. I see you are eager to be with her as soon as possible. Go and breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait for me. I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of the river, but will be with her shortly.”

Lafayette and Knox, however, preferred to ride on with the General, and the message was sent to the Robinson house by Colonel Hamilton and Major McHenry. Mrs. Arnold, who had lately joined her husband there with her baby, welcomed her guests and entertained them at breakfast. It was a trying situation for her husband, for it happened that that was the very day on which he was to make his final arrangements with the British.

While they sat at the breakfast-table a messenger galloped up to the door with a letter for Arnold. He opened it and read that AndrÉ had been captured, and the secret papers found upon him had been sent to Washington. Arnold rose from the table and beckoned his wife to follow him to her room. There he told her that he was a ruined man and must fly for his life. Leaving her fainting on the floor, he left the house, mounted the messenger’s horse, and dashed down to the river through a ravine. There he boarded his boat, and was rowed rapidly down the river to the English ship The Vulture.

Almost immediately after Arnold’s hurried departure Washington, Lafayette, and Knox reached the Robinson house. The commander supposed that Arnold had gone to West Point to prepare for his reception, and, having eaten a hasty breakfast, Washington and his companions crossed the river. No salute, however, was fired at their approach, and Colonel Lamb, the officer in command, came and apologized, saying that he had received no information of Washington’s visit.

“Is not General Arnold here?” Washington inquired.

“No, sir,” said Lamb. “He has not been here for two days, nor have I heard from him in that time.”

Somewhat surprised, but still unsuspicious, Washington and the others spent the morning examining the works.

As they rode back to the Robinson house about noon they were met by Colonel Hamilton, who took Washington aside, and handed him the secret papers that had been found on AndrÉ. At once the whole plot was clear. Washington sent Hamilton immediately to arrest Arnold, but the Colonel found that the man had already flown. Then the commander-in-chief told the news to Lafayette and Knox, and, saying how much he had always trusted General Arnold, added, “Whom can we trust now?”

It was Lafayette who later tried to comfort Mrs. Arnold, when the full realization of her husband’s disgrace almost drove her to despair. And he sat with the other general officers at a court-martial in the headquarters at Tappan on the Hudson when John AndrÉ, adjutant-general of the British army, after a fair trial, was convicted of being a spy and was sentenced to be hung. But Lafayette was a very generous judge, and wrote of AndrÉ later, “He was a very interesting man; he conducted himself in a manner so frank, so noble, and so delicate, that I cannot help feeling for him an infinite pity.”

The treason of Benedict Arnold prevented the invasion of Canada, and Lafayette saw no active service for some time. He spent the autumn in camp on the Hudson and in New Jersey, and part of the winter in Philadelphia. A number of French officers had gathered here, and they, used to the gayeties of the most brilliant court in Europe, added much to the amusements of the American capital. Every one liked the French guests, and the foreign officers, on their part, liked and admired their new allies. Sometimes the self-denying seriousness of the Americans, which was an element of their national strength, amused and surprised the gayer Frenchmen. One of the latter, the Marquis de Chastellux, told a story about Philadelphia in his volume of “Travels.” He said that at balls in Philadelphia it was the custom to have a Continental officer as the master of ceremonies, and that at one party he attended that position was held by a Colonel Mitchell, who showed the same devotion to duty in the ballroom that he showed on the field of battle. This Colonel saw a young girl so busily talking that she could pay little attention to the figures of the quadrille, so he marched up to her and said to her severely, “Take care what you are doing; do you suppose you are there for your pleasure?”

Naturally the Marquis de Chastellux and his friends, fresh from the world of Marie Antoinette, where pleasure was always the first aim, had many a laugh at the people of this new world. But with the laugh there always went respect and admiration.

So Lafayette passed the time until the campaign of 1781 opened. He wrote often to his wife, and sent her a long letter by his friend Colonel Laurens, when the latter went on a mission to the court of France. Another child had been born to the Marquis and Adrienne, a son, who was given the name of George Washington. “Embrace our children,” wrote Lafayette, “thousands of times for me. Although a vagabond, their father is none the less tender, less constantly thoughtful of them, less happy to hear from them. My heart perceives, as in a delicious perspective, the moment when my dear children will be presented to me by you, and when we can kiss and caress them together. Do you think that Anastasie will recognize me?” And, as he could never write without thinking of the brave army he commanded, he added, “Only citizens could support the nakedness, the hunger, the labors, and the absolute lack of pay which constitute the conditions of our soldiers, the most enduring and the most patient, I believe, of any in the world.”

In January, 1781, word came to Washington’s headquarters that General Benedict Arnold had landed in Virginia with a good-sized army, was laying waste the country, and had already destroyed the valuable stores collected at Richmond. If Arnold’s campaign should succeed the result would be to place all the Southern States in the hands of the enemy. Let him defeat the few American troops in Virginia and he could march to join the English General Cornwallis, who was pressing General Greene very hard in the Carolinas.

Indeed Cornwallis already appeared to hold the south in his grasp. He had beaten the small contingents of American troops in that country, and at the battle of Camden, in South Carolina, Lafayette’s old companion, the Baron de Kalb, had fallen in battle. It was of the utmost importance, therefore, to defeat or capture Arnold, who had been rewarded for his treason by being made a general in the British army, and Washington at once planned to send a detachment from his main army against Arnold by land, and a naval force to Chesapeake Bay to cut off his escape by sea. The French admiral ordered a ship-of-the-line and two frigates to the Chesapeake, and Washington placed twelve hundred light infantry under Lafayette with instructions to aid the fleet. This command, of the greatest importance, showed the confidence and trust that the commander-in-chief felt in the military ability of the Frenchman.

Lafayette marched rapidly south and reached the Head of the Elk on March second, three days earlier than had been expected. Here he embarked his troops on small boats and descended to Annapolis. Seeing no signs of the French squadron, he concluded that they had been delayed by adverse winds, and, leaving his army at Annapolis, he went with a few officers to consult with Baron Steuben and seek his aid. He secured some companies of militia at Williamsburg, near the York River, and proceeded to the camp of General Muhlenberg, near Suffolk, to have a look at Benedict Arnold’s defenses at Portsmouth.

Meantime a large fleet appeared in Chesapeake Bay. Lafayette, and Arnold also, thought that this must be the French squadron, but the American commander soon received word that the ships were English. It turned out that the first French squadron had found there was too little water in the bay for them, and had sailed back to Newport, while a second squadron had been driven off by the English. The result was that General Arnold’s forces were relieved from danger, and the enemy reinforced by two new regiments under General Phillips, who now took command of all the English armies in Virginia.

Washington’s orders to Lafayette had been that he was to try to capture Arnold, and that if the French fleet should be defeated he should march his men back to headquarters without further risk. So he now sent his militia to Williamsburg and forwarded orders to Annapolis to have the troops prepared for immediate departure. When he reached Annapolis he found there were great difficulties in the way of transporting his men to Elk. There were very few horses or wagons or small boats for crossing the ferries, and the port was blocked by English ships. He had resort to a clever stratagem. He put two eighteen-pounders on a small sloop, which, with another ship under Commodore Nicholson, sailed out toward the enemy vessels, firing their guns as if about to attack. The two English ships on guard withdrew a considerable distance down the bay, and then Lafayette embarked his troops on his own boats and got them out of the harbor and up the bay to Elk. They reached there safely during the night, followed by Lafayette and Nicholson in the sloop.

When Washington heard of General Phillips’ arrival in Virginia his anxiety was great. The situation in the south was extremely perilous. General Greene was having all he could do to oppose Lord Cornwallis in North Carolina. Unless strong opposition could be brought against Phillips the latter could quickly overrun Virginia and unite with Cornwallis. In this predicament the commander-in-chief determined to put the defense of Virginia in the hands of Lafayette.

Lafayette heard of this new appointment as soon as he reached Elk. The task was a great one. His men lacked proper equipment and even necessary clothing, and they were much disheartened by the unsuccessful campaign in the south. He borrowed ten thousand dollars from the merchants of Baltimore on his personal security and bought his army food and supplies. Then he told his men that his business was to fight an enemy greatly superior in numbers, through difficulties of every sort, and that any soldier who was unwilling to accompany him might avoid the penalties of desertion by applying for a pass to the North. His men, placed on their mettle, stood by him cheerfully. Immediately Lafayette marched on Richmond, reaching that place a day ahead of General Phillips. And General Phillips was so much impressed by Lafayette’s show of strength that he gave up his intention of seizing Richmond and retreated down the James River.

Cornwallis heard of this, and, vowing that he would defeat “that boy Lafayette,” as he called the Marquis, stopped his campaign against Greene in North Carolina and determined that he would himself take command in Virginia. Cornwallis, a major-general and an officer of great experience, expected an easy task when he sent word to Phillips to await his arrival at the town of Petersburg.

When he heard that Cornwallis was moving north and that Phillips was on the march Lafayette guessed that they intended to join forces, and hurried toward Petersburg to prevent it. Phillips, however, was nearer to that town and reached it before Lafayette, who was obliged to fall back on Richmond, but who sent out Colonel Gimat, with artillery, to keep the enemy busy.

On May thirteenth General Phillips died at Petersburg. It was before this general’s guns that Lafayette’s father had fallen at the battle of Hastenbeck. Benedict Arnold was second in command, and on taking Phillips’ place he sent a letter to Lafayette under a flag of truce. When the latter learned the name of the writer he at once informed the men who brought Arnold’s communication that while he would be glad to treat with any other English officer he could not read a message from this one. This placed General Arnold in a difficult position and was resented by a threat to send all American prisoners to the West Indies. But when the people heard of it they were delighted, and Washington wrote to the Marquis, “Your conduct upon every occasion meets my approbation, but in none more than in your refusing to hold a correspondence with Arnold.”

On May 24, 1781, Cornwallis, having joined his army to that of Arnold at Petersburg and having rested his men, marched out with his whole force to attack Lafayette at Richmond. At Byrd’s Plantation, where the British commander had his quarters, he wrote of his opponent, “The boy cannot escape me.”

Lafayette, on his part, knew that his enemy had a fine fighting force, and that he must be wary to avoid him. The Marquis said, “Lord Cornwallis marches with amazing celerity. But I have done everything I could, without arms or men, at least to impede him by local embarrassments.”

And he did embarrass the Earl. He led him a dance through the country about Richmond, he retreated across the Chickahominy River to Fredericksburg, time and again he just escaped the swiftly pursuing British. He knew he could not venture on fighting without the aid of more troops, and he kept up his retreat until he was joined by General Wayne with Pennsylvania soldiers on June tenth. Then he planned to take the offensive, and rapidly crossed the Rapidan River in the direction of Cornwallis.

Cornwallis would have liked a direct battle with the Americans, but again Lafayette proved wary. While the British army blocked the road to Albemarle, Lafayette discovered an old unused road and under cover of night marched his men along it and took up a strong position before the town. There militia joined him from the neighboring mountains, and he was able to show so strong a front that the British commander did not dare to attack him. In his turn Cornwallis retreated, first to Richmond and then to Williamsburg, near the coast, and left the greater part of Virginia in the control of the Americans.

Lafayette now became the pursuer instead of the pursued, and harried Cornwallis on the rear and flanks. The famous cavalry officer, Colonel Tarleton, serving under Cornwallis, described the pursuit: “The Marquis de Lafayette, who had previously practised defensive manoeuvres with skill and security, being now reinforced by General Wayne and about eight hundred Continentals and some detachments of militia, followed the British as they proceeded down the James River. This design, being judiciously arranged and executed with extreme caution, allowed opportunity for the junction of Baron Steuben, confined the small detachments of the King’s troops, and both saved the property and animated the drooping spirits of the Virginians.”

Lafayette was proving that Washington’s confidence in him was well placed and showing himself an extraordinarily able commander in the field.

At Williamsburg Cornwallis received word from General Clinton in New York that a part of the British troops in Virginia were to be sent north. In order to embark these troops he set out for Portsmouth on July fourth. Knowing that the enemy would be obliged to cross the James River at James Island, Lafayette decided to attack their rear as soon as a considerable number should have passed the ford. Cornwallis foresaw this, and sending his baggage-wagons across arranged his men to surprise the Americans.

Toward sunset on July sixth Lafayette crossed the causeways that led to the British position and opened an attack. General Wayne, whose popular nickname was “Mad Anthony,” led the advance with a thousand riflemen, dragoons, and two pieces of artillery. Lafayette, with twelve hundred infantry, was ready to support him. But at Wayne’s first advance he found that the whole British army was before him; he attacked with the greatest vigor; Lafayette, however, realizing that Cornwallis had prepared a surprise, ordered a retreat to General Muhlenberg’s station a half mile in the rear. Had Cornwallis pursued he must have defeated the American forces, which had to cross long log bridges over marshy land, but in his turn he feared an ambush, and was content to bring his men safely across the James and proceed to Portsmouth.

The British were now at Portsmouth and the rest of Virginia in the Americans’ hands. Lafayette wrote a description of the situation to Washington, and added, “Should a French fleet now come into Hampton Roads, the British army would, I think, be ours.” Hardly had his letter reached Washington when a French ship arrived at Newport with word that the fleet of the French Count de Grasse had left the West Indies bound for Chesapeake Bay. Instantly Washington saw that he ought not now to direct his attack against Clinton in New York, but against Cornwallis in Virginia.

Cornwallis, wanting to take up a strong position with easy access to the sea, began to move his army to Yorktown on August first. At the same time Lafayette arranged his forces so as to cut off any retreat of the enemy. And while this was going on, and the fleet of the Count de Grasse was nearing the coast, Washington and Rochambeau met in the old Livingston manor-house at Dobb’s Ferry on the Hudson on August fourteenth and planned their joint campaign against Yorktown.

Then the two armies marched south. The Continental troops, many ragged and poorly armed, but with green sprigs in their caps, passed through Philadelphia on September second, and the French, more sprucely and gaily uniformed, followed them the next day. On September twelfth Washington reached Mount Vernon, which he had not seen for six years, and there entertained Rochambeau and other French officers. Two days later he took command of the allied forces at Williamsburg, and on the seventeenth visited De Grasse on his flag-ship, and completed plans for the siege. The army held the mainland, the French fleet blocked the path to the sea, and Cornwallis was trapped at Yorktown.

The end of the drama came swiftly. The American and French entrenchments drew closer and closer to the British lines until they were only three hundred yards apart. Then, on October fourteenth, Lafayette’s men, led by Colonel Alexander Hamilton, charged the British works on the left, while the French grenadiers stormed a redoubt on the right. The outer works were won in this attack, which proved to be the last battle of the Revolution.

The next night Cornwallis tried to cut his way out from Yorktown and escape across the York River to Gloucester. Watchful outposts drove him back. On October seventeenth a British drummer appeared on Yorktown’s ramparts and beat a parley. An American and a French officer met two British officers at a farmhouse, and articles of surrender were drawn up and accepted. Two days later, on October 19, 1781, the army of Cornwallis marched out of Yorktown and passed between the American and French troops, commanded respectively by Washington and Rochambeau.

The French officer who had prepared the articles of surrender at the farmhouse was Lafayette’s brother-in-law, the Vicomte de Noailles, one of the two young men to whom Lafayette had taken the word that he meant to go “to America to fight for liberty!” Now the Vicomte saw that the ardent hopes of the young enthusiast had borne such glorious fruit!

There stands a monument on the heights above the York River, in Virginia, and on one side of it are these words: “At York, on October 19, 1781, after a siege of nineteen days, by 5,500 American and 7,000 French Troops of the Line, 3,500 Virginia Militia under command of General Thomas Nelson and 36 French ships of war, Earl Cornwallis, Commander of the British Forces at York and Gloucester, surrendered his army, 7,251 officers and men, 840 seamen, 244 cannons and 24 standards to His Excellency George Washington, Commander in Chief of the Combined Forces of America and France, to His Excellency the Comte de Rochambeau, commanding the auxiliary Troops of His Most Christian Majesty in America, and to His Excellency the Comte de Grasse, commanding in chief the Naval Army of France in Chesapeake.”

It was largely due to Lafayette that the French fleet and the army of Rochambeau had crossed the ocean and that the Americans in Virginia had succeeded in bottling up Cornwallis at Yorktown and so bringing an end to the Revolution. Close to Washington he must forever stand as one of the great men who won liberty for the United States!