last to leave, I being pretty fleet of foot I halted within sight until the light-horsemen rode up in front of the meeting-house. I felt anxious to see what they would do. Upon halting they all dismounted. There was a dead soldier lying on a bench in front of the church, covered with a blanket; I saw a British horseman draw his sword as soon as he dismounted, and advance to the bench and run it through the body of the dead soldier. To speak in derision of the brave hero, this was a bold, undaunted and heroic display of military prowess. The beholding of this spiritless action satisfied my curiosity, and "I heeled it like a major" and was not the last of the party in gaining the woods. Upon the horsemen taking the route we had taken we were again induced to take to our "scrapers," I ran into a house where our Col. had boarded, and picked up a pair of boots that belonged to him and carried them with me. The retreat was ordered to Philadelphia whither we were now bound. We all became scattered in the woods after dark and my father and myself took our course across Delaware county in the direction of Philadelphia. We travelled some considerable distance that night and at last arrived at the house of a patriotic friend of Liberty-a good American friend, a true friend to the weary and despised soldier. This man gave us a hearty welcome to his house, took us in and gave us to eat and drink, and then conducted us up to his garret and made us a bed upon the floor, so that as he said if any of the British scouters should come they might not be able to find us. Here we rested our weary limbs till almost day light and then pushed on for Philadelphia barracks. We played rather hide-and-goseek upon the road, keeping a constant look out for the British or British scouters, but we were not surprized by any of them in our route thither.

When we arrived at Philadelphia barracks, we found but a few soldiers there. I do not recollect whether General Washington arrived before or after us at Philadelphia, but think that he did not arrive there before us, as his march could not have been as rapid a one as ours.

He had halted at Chester for the night, only eight miles from the scene of action, and had his artillery and baggage to retard his progress; it is, therefore, questionable in my own mind whether he arrived at Philadelphia on the same day that we did.

THE BATTLE DAY OF BRANDYWINE.

BY GEORGE LIPPARD, ESQ.,

Author of Herbert Tracy, Rendulph the Prince, &c.

THE BATTLE FIELD.

In the southern portion of the county of Chester, along the borders of Pennsylvania and Delaware, the eye of the traveller is attracted by the luxuriant scenery of a lovely valley, inhabited by a quiet and peaceful people, whose speech is simple as their garb is plain.

A clear and glassy stream, now overshadowed by drooping elm or oaken trees, now open to the gleam of the sunlight, winds along amid the recesses of the valey, while sloping to the east, a plain of level earth spreads green grassy, winding with each bend of the rivulet on one side, and arising on the other, into massive, moundlike hills, clad with the chesnut, the oak, or the beechen tree, or variegated by the changing aspects of cultivation-the brown field of upturned earth, the green corn, the golden wheat or pleasant pasturage.

It is indeed a lovely valley. In the summer time, the ancient farm-houses scattered along the bed of the vale look out from among the rustic beauty of embosoming trees, and the verdure seems richer and more gorgeous in hue, the skies seem clearer and lovelier, and the hills arise with a more undulating grandeur, than in any other place; while the meadows are gay with wildflowers, and green with a spring-like bloom, that endures till autumn has waned into winter.

The high hills of the east glide away in richly cultivated farms, with a massive forest winding amid the bloom of cultivation, and flinging its small spurs of woodland

out into many a pleasant field, or along the quiet walks of many a lovely valley.

On the west of this rustic stream arise abrupt hills, covered with forests, more rugged and less gentle in their pastoral beauty than the opposite hills, yet interspersed with cultivated fields and ancient farm-houses, with here and there a shadowy glen, breaking away from the bed of the stream, or a lofty hill, thrusting its uncovered summit boldly forth into the sky, while around its base flow the waters of the world hidden rivulet.

This world hidden rivulet is called the Brandywine, and on the surface of its grassy meadows, and around the brows of the overlooking hill-tops, amid the wilds of the far-off hills and plains, did our fathers fight the battle of Brandywine, with good strong arms that knew no quailing, and good stout hearts that knew no fear.

THE TIME OF THE BATTLE.

It was in the month of September, in the year of our Lord 1777, when the torch of Revolution and the discord of Civil War had been blazing for two long years over the land—it was in the early part of the first autumnal month, that the fear of war, with all its terror and gloom, first entered the confines of this lovely valley.A vague rumor of coming evil reached the blacksmith at his anvil the farmer at his plough-it flew from hillside to hillside, from the valley to the plain-it passed from farm-house to farm-house, and the echoes of the quiet Quaker temple were aroused by the sounds of solemn prayer to the God of Peace, that he might protect his chosen people in the hour of their peril.

For many days the rumor was vague and shadowy, but at last it became certain and defined in its character, and the peaceful denizens of Brandywine were told that General Howe, with seventeen thousand armed and disciplined soldiers, had made a landing on the peninsula of Maryland and Delaware, above the mouth of the Susquehanna, near a place called Turkey-town-that his ob

ject was the conquest and possession of the city of Philadelphia, distant some thirty or forty miles-and that, for the attainment of his object, he would sweep, like a tornado, over the luxuriant plains and valleys that lay between his troops and the city; marking his course with fire and sword, and leaving the blasted field and burned farm-house in his rear, while in front of him fled the terrified soldiers of George Washington's army.

At the same time that this rumor reached the peaceful denizens of the valley, the intelligence of George Washington's approach was also proclaimed. It was stated by some that Washington and the continental troops were moving from the northward, to arrest the progress of the British invader: other rumors stated that he came from the direction of Wilmington, some fourteen miles distant; but all agreed in one point-that the quiet valley of the Brandywine was in a few days destined to be the chess-board on which George Washington, with his starved continentals, on the one side, and General Howe, with his well dressed and well-fed seventeen thousand British and Hessians, were to play a magnificent game of blood and battle, for the stake, which was nothing less than the good city of Philadelphia, with its Quaker citizens, its stores of provisions, and its Continental Congress.

THE CONTINENTALS.

It was on the evening of the 9th of September, 1777, that the peal of martial music first broke upon the ears of the Quakers of Brandywine; and presently there came trooping from the hills, towards the east, a band of men, clad in military costume, with bayonets glittering in the twilight air, and banners waving over head. They came with the regular movement of military discipline, band after band, troop after troop, rank after rank, breaking, with peals of music, from the covert of the hills;-but the horses of the cavalry were jaded and worn in appearance, the steps of the infantry were tired and heavy, and the broad banners of this strange host waved proudly

in the air, but their folds were rent and torn; and in its rear rolled the heavy baggage-wagons, conveying the sick and wounded of a score of battles and an hundred frays.

It needed no second glance to tell the valley people that this strange army was the army of George Washington. Poverty and freedom in those days walked hand in hand; and sleek skins and broad-cloth apparel were reserved for the readiest slave or the most skilful tool of the tyrant.

An omen of despair sat upon the American banner; and it needed no very active imagination to fancy the brooding phantom perched in thin air over the continental host, and chuckling with fiend-like glee, as he pointed to the gloomy past and the unknown future.

The main body of the army, with Washington and Wayne, took position on the level plain, sloping eastward from the Brandywine, at Chadd's Ford-the right wing of the army, under the brave Sullivan, took a position on the high hills, some two miles northward, along the course of the Brandywine; and the left wing, comprising the Pennsylvania militia, under General Armstrong, were placed at a ford some two miles below Chadd's Ford.

Here you have the American soldiers, watching on their arms, from the eastern hills of Brandywine, for some four or five miles along its course, and watching earnestly and courageously, for the appearance of the well-armed and ruthless band of foreign invaders, foes or hirelings.

And where was the British army?

THE BRITISHERS.

On the very next day, the tenth of the month, the hosts of a well-disciplined army came breaking from the forests, with merry peals of fife and drum, the bugle-note, and clarion sound; and while the morning sun shone brightly on their well-burnished arms, they proceeded to pccupy an open space of ground, amid the shadow of