THE final scene in this stupendous drama of American Freedom was enacted in Virginia.

In September, 1781, Washington began a three weeks’ siege against Yorktown, held by the British under Lord Cornwallis. Finding himself there completely surrounded by both land and water, Cornwallis was forced to surrender.

Now was the yoke of Great Britain at last broken. Seven thousand English and Hessian soldiers and eight hundred and forty sailors laid down their arms and became prisoners of war.

The formal ceremony of surrender was to take place in an open field the last day of October. Thousands of spectators assembled to behold the detested Cornwallis surrender the army they had hated and feared.

The Americans, commanded by General Washington in full uniform, and the French troops, under Count Rochambeau, were drawn up in two lines. At length a splendid charger issued through the gate, bearing not the hated Cornwallis as expected, but General O’Hara. So overcome was Lord Cornwallis with the consciousness of his defeat by the “raw Americans,” that, feigning illness, he refused to appear.

The British troops in new uniforms, in striking contrast to the worn and faded garb of the colonists, followed the officer with colors furled. Coming opposite General Washington, O’Hara saluted and presented the sword of Cornwallis. A tense silence pervaded the assembly. General Washington motioned that the sword be given to General Lincoln. Apparently forgetful of the indignities heaped upon him by the British at Charleston, the latter returned the sword to General O’Hara, remarking as he did so, “Kindly return it to his Lordship, Sir.”

“Ground arms” came the order from the British officers. The troops complied sullenly; the humiliation felt by them in their defeat was everywhere apparent.

The next day the conquered army marched out of Yorktown between the American and French troops. Their fifers, with a brave show of humor, played, “The World’s turned Upside Down.” Washington had directed his soldiers to show no disrespect nor unkindness to the defeated troops. But the remembrance of “Yankee Doodle,” as played by the Britons in their times of conquest, in taunting derision of the Americans, proved too much for the latter to endure without return, when supreme occasion such as this offered. To the strains of “Yankee Doodle Do,” from American fifes, Lord Cornwallis and his army bade adieu to the scenes wherein they had once marched as conquerors.

In thanksgiving to God was voiced the nation’s exultation. Congress adjourned the sessions and the members repaired to church to give thanks; business was suspended in all places. Throughout the land the voice of the people was raised in a mighty chorus of prayer and praise to the Almighty.