One of General Wayne's officers, Captain Davis of the First Pennsylvania, whose military skill, let us hope, exceeded his knowledge of spelling, kept a diary full of enthusiasm and superfluous capital letters. By this we learn that the Fourth of July, 1781, was a wet morning which cleared off in time for a "Feu-de-joy" in honor of the day. The Americans had by this time forced the British down the peninsula as far as Williamsburg, and were themselves camped about fifteen miles from that town. While the "Feu-de-joy" went up in smoke the British were busy; for Cornwallis had received letters which decided him to abandon Williamsburg, send a large part of his men north to reinforce Clinton, and consolidate the rest with the British garrison at Portsmouth, near Norfolk.

The battle of Green Springs, the most serious encounter of Lafayette's Virginia campaign, took place on the 6th of July, near Jamestown, when the British, in carrying out this plan, crossed to the south side of the river James. Cornwallis was sure that Lafayette would attack, and arranged an ambush, meaning to lure him with the belief that all except the British rear-guard had passed to the other bank. The ruse only half succeeded, for Lafayette observed that the British clung tenaciously to their position and replaced the officers American riflemen picked off one after the other. Riding out on a point of land, he saw the British soldiers waiting under protection of their guns and spurred back to warn General Wayne, but by that time the battle had opened. Wayne's men suffered most, being nearly surrounded. In a tight place Wayne always preferred "among a choice of difficulties, to advance and charge"; and this was exactly what he did, straight into the British lines. The unexpectedness of it brought success; and in the momentary confusion he fell back to a place of safety. Afterward he had a word to say about Lafayette's personal conduct. Reporting that no officers were killed, though most of them had horses shot or wounded under them, he added: "I will not condole with the Marquis for the loss of two of his, as he was frequently requested to keep at a greater distance. His native bravery rendered him deaf to the admonition."

The British retained the battle-field and the Americans most of the glory, as was the case in so many fights of the Revolution. British military writers have contended that Lafayette was in mortal danger and that Cornwallis could have annihilated his whole force if he had attacked that night. What Cornwallis did was to cross the river next morning and proceed toward Portsmouth. The affair at Green Springs added materially to Lafayette's reputation. Indeed, with the exception of burning a few American stores, increasing Lafayette's military reputation was about all the British accomplished in this campaign. An American officer with a taste for figures gleefully estimated that Cornwallis's "tour in Virginia" cost King George, one way and another, more than would have been needed to take all the British aristocracy on a trip around the world.

Cornwallis got his soldiers safely upon their transports, but it was written in the stars that they were not to leave Virginia of their own free will. Orders came from Clinton telling him not to send them north, and giving him to understand that his recent acts were not approved. Clinton directed him to establish himself in a healthy spot on the peninsula between the York and James rivers and to gain control of a seaport to which British ships could come. He suggested Old Point Comfort, but Cornwallis's engineers decided that Yorktown, with the neck of land opposite called Gloucester, was the only place that would serve. Here Cornwallis brought his army on the 1st of August and began building defenses.

Following the battle of Green Springs, Lafayette occupied Williamsburg and gave his men the rest they needed after their many weeks of marching. He sent out detachments on various errands, but this was a season of comparative quiet. Soon he began to long for excitement, and wrote to Washington that he did not know about anything that was happening in the world outside of Virginia, that he was homesick for headquarters, and that if he could not be there to help in the defense of New York, at least he would like to know what was going on. The answer only whetted his curiosity. Washington bade him await a confidential letter explaining his plans.

The military situation as Washington saw it was exceedingly interesting. Colonel Laurens's mission to the French court had turned out badly. Perhaps he had not taken sufficiently to heart Lafayette's advice; but young Rochambeau had not fared much better. In May it had been learned that there was never to be any second division of the French army; a blow that was softened by the assurance that considerable money was actually on the way and that a French fleet, which had sailed for the West Indies under command of Comte de Grasse, might visit the coast of the United States for a short time.

It was the approach of this French fleet which caused Clinton uneasiness in New York and made Cornwallis embark part of his troops for the North. Washington took good care to let Clinton rest in the belief that New York was to be attacked, but it became increasingly evident to him that the greatest blow he could strike would be to capture Cornwallis's army. He arranged with Admiral de Grasse to sail to Chesapeake Bay instead of to New York, sent word to Lafayette to be on the lookout for the French fleet, moved Rochambeau's soldiers from Newport to the Hudson, left a sufficient number of them there and started south with all the rest of the army, moving with the greatest possible speed. Those of us who have read about this merely as long past history do not realize the risks involved in planning such far-reaching combinations in days before cables and telegraph lines.

"To blockade Rhode Island, fool Clinton, shut him up in New York, and keep Cornwallis in Virginia," says a French writer, "it was necessary to send from the port of Brest and later from the Antilles to Chesapeake Bay a flotilla destined to take from the English all hope of retreat and embarkation at the exact instant that Washington, Rochambeau, and Lafayette should come and force the English in their last intrenchments. This grand project which decided the outcome of the war could be conceived only by men of superior talent." Lafayette's friend, De SÉgur, said that "it required all the audacity of Admiral Comte de Grasse and the skill of Washington, sustained by the bravery of Lafayette, the wisdom of Rochambeau, the heroic intrepidity of our sailors and our troops, as well as the valor of the American militia."

Fortunately the geography of the Atlantic coast helped Washington keep his secret even after he was well started. If De Grasse came to New York, Washington's logical goal was Staten Island, and the route of the Continental army would be the same in either case for a long distance. After Philadelphia had been left behind and Washington's plan became evident, it was too late for Clinton to stop him.

Thus the net tightened about Cornwallis. French ships in the bay effectually cut off hope of reinforcement or escape by sea. Lafayette stationed Wayne where he could interpose if the British attempted to go by land toward the Carolinas. He sent his faithful friend, De Gimat, down the bay to meet the French admiral and give him information, and disposed his own forces to cover the landing of any soldiers De Grasse might bring him.

It must have been a fine sight when twenty-eight large ships of the line and four French frigates sailed up the James River on the 2d of September and landed three thousand soldiers, "all very tall men" in uniforms of white turned up with blue. Lafayette's Americans, drawn up not far from the battleground of Green Springs, donned their ragged best in their honor. "Our men had orders to wash and put on clean clothes," a diary informs us.

With this addition to his force Lafayette approached Yorktown. General Saint-Simon, the commander of the three thousand very tall men, was much older than Lafayette, besides being a marshal of France, but he gallantly signified his willingness to serve under his junior; and officers and privates alike accepted cheerfully the scanty American fare, which was all Lafayette could get for his enlarged military family. He found difficulty in collecting even this and wrote Washington that his duties as quartermaster had brought on violent headache and fever, but that the indisposition would vanish with three hours' needed sleep.

In spite of their politeness it was evident that the visitors were anxious to be through with their task and away. Admiral de Grasse had a rendezvous for a certain date in the West Indies and insisted from the first that his stay in American waters must be short. The French were scarcely inclined to await the arrival of Washington; yet with all Washington's haste he had only reached Chester, Pennsylvania, on the way to Head of Elk when he heard of De Grasse's arrival. Those who were with him when the news came were more impressed by the way he received it than by the news itself. His reserve and dignity fell from him like a garment, and his face beamed like that of a delighted child as he stood on the river-bank waving his hat in the air and shouting the glad tidings to Rochambeau.

When Washington reached Williamsburg on the 13th of September he found both Lafayette and General Wayne the worse for wear. Wayne, with characteristic impetuosity, had tried to pass one of Lafayette's sentries after dark and was nursing a slight wound in consequence. Lafayette's quartermaster headache had developed into an attack of ague; but that did not prevent his being present at the ceremonies which marked the official meeting of the allied commanders. There were all possible salutes and official visits, and, in addition, at a grand supper a band played a kind of music seldom heard in America in those days—the overture to a French opera "signifying the happiness of a family when blessed with the presence of their father."

Washington's arrival of course put an end to Lafayette's independent command. With the Commander-in-chief present he became again what he had been the previous summer, merely the commander of a division of light infantry, and as such took part in the siege of Yorktown, which progressed unfalteringly. The night of October 14th witnessed its most dramatic incident, the taking of two redoubts, one by French troops, the other by Americans under Lafayette. Among his officers were Gimat, John Laurens, and Alexander Hamilton. Six shells in rapid succession gave the signal to advance, and his four hundred men obeyed under fire without returning a shot, so rapidly that the place was taken at the point of the bayonet in a very few minutes. Lafayette's first care was to send an aide with his compliments and a message to Baron Viomenil, the French commander, whose troops were still attacking; the message being that the Americans had gained their redoubt and would gladly come to his assistance if he desired it. This was a bit of vainglory, for Viomenil had nettled Lafayette by doubting if his Americans could succeed. On the night of October 15th the British attempted a sortie which failed. After an equally unsuccessful attempt to escape by water, Cornwallis felt that there was no more hope, for his works were crumbling and, in addition to his loss in killed and wounded, many of his men were sick. He wrote a short note to Washington asking for an armistice to arrange terms of surrender.

The time of surrender was fixed for two o'clock on the afternoon of October 19, 1781. Lafayette had suggested that Cornwallis's bands be required to play a British or a German air when the soldiers marched to lay down their arms. This was in courteous retaliation for the treatment our own troops had received at British hands at the surrender of Charleston, when they had been forbidden to play such music. It was to the tune of "The World Turned Upside Down" that they chose to march with colors cased, between the long lines of French and Americans drawn up on the Hampton Road, to a field where a squadron of French had spread out to form a huge circle. The French on one side of the road under their flag with the golden fleur-de-lis were resplendent in uniforms of white turned up with blue. The Americans were less imposing. In the militia regiments toward the end of their line scarcely a uniform was to be seen, but at their head Washington and his officers, superbly mounted, stood opposite Rochambeau and the other French generals. Eye-witnesses thought that the British showed disdain of the ragged American soldiers and a marked preference for the French, but acts of discourtesy were few, and the higher officers conducted themselves as befitted gentlemen. Cornwallis did not appear to give up his sword, but sent General O'Hara to represent him, and it was received on Washington's part by General Lincoln, who had given up his sword to the British at Charleston.

As each British regiment reached the field where the French waited it laid down its arms at the command of its colonel and marched back to Yorktown, prisoners of war. The cheeks of one colonel were wet with tears as he gave the order, and a corporal was heard to whisper to his musket as he laid it down, "May you never get so good a master!" Care was taken not to add to the humiliation of the vanquished by admitting sightseers, and all agree that there was no cheering or exulting. "Universal silence was observed," says General "Lighthorse Harry" Lee, who was there. "The utmost decency prevailed, exhibiting in demeanor an awful sense of the vicissitudes of human life, mingled with commiseration for the unhappy." There was more than commiseration; there was real friendliness. Rochambeau, learning that Cornwallis was without money, lent him all he needed. Dinners were given at which British officers were the guests of honor; and we have Lafayette's word for it that "every sort of politeness" was shown.

Washington's aide, Colonel Tilghman, rode at top speed to Philadelphia with news of the surrender, reaching there after midnight on the 24th. He met a watchman as he entered the city, and bade him show him the way to the house of the president of Congress. The watchman, of course, learned the great news, and while Tilghman roused the high official, the watchman, who was a patriot, though he had a strong German accent, continued his rounds, calling, happily:

"Basht dree o'glock, und Corn-wal-lis isht da-a-ken!"