morning, from two different quarters, was of a nature not to admit of long concealment, yet it had not been communicated to me, nor to any individual of the company, as it might naturally have been, through the channel of common report, when I got to Pall Mall, between five and six o'clock. Lord Walsingham, who likewise dined there, was the only person present, except Lord George, who was acquainted with the fact. The party, nine in number, sat down to table. I thought the master of the house appeared serious, though he manifested no discomposure. Before the dinner was finished, one of his servants delivered him a letter, brought back from the messenger who had been despatched to the king. Lord George opened and perused it; then looking at Lord Walsingham, to whom he exclusively directed his observation, "The king writes," said he, "just as he always does, except that I observe he has omitted to mark the hour and the minute of his writing, with his usual precision." This remark, though calculated to awaken some interest, excited no comment; and while the ladies, Lord George's three daughters, remained in the room, we repressed our curiosity. But they had no sooner withdrawn, than Lord George, having acquainted us that from Paris information had just arrived of the old Count de Maurepas, first minister, lying at the point of death: "It would grieve me," said I "to finish my career, however far advanced in years, were I first minister of France, before I had witnessed the termination of this great contest between England and America." "He has survived to see that event," replied Lord George, with some agitation. Utterly unsuspicious of the fact which had happened beyond the Atlantic, I conceived him to allude to the indecisive naval action fought at the mouth of the Chesapeake, early in the preceding month of September, between Admiral Graves and Count de Grasse; which, in its results, might prove most injurious to Lord Cornwallis. Under this impression, "my meaning," said I, "is that if I were the Count de Maurepas, I should wish to live long enough to behold the final issue of the war in Virginia.' He has survived to witness it completely," answered Lord George, "the army has surrendered, and you may peruse the particulars of the capitulation in that paper," taking at the same time one from his pocket, which he delivered into my hand,

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not without visible emotion. By his permission, I read it aloud, while the company listened in profound silence. We then discussed its contents, as it effected the ministry, the country and the war. It must be confessed that they were calculated to diffuse a gloom over the most convivial society, and that they opened a wide field for practical speculation.

After perusing the account of Lord Cornwallis's surrender at Yorktown, it was impossible for all present not to feel a lively curiosity to know how the king had received the intelligence, as well as how he expressed himself in his note to Lord George Germain, on the first communication of so painful an event. He gratified our wish by reading it to us, observing at the same time, that it did the highest honor to his Majesty's fortitude, firmness, and consistency of character. The words made an impression on my memory which the lapse of more than thirty years has not erased; and I shall here communicate its tenor, as serving to show how that prince felt and wrote, under one of the most afflicting, as well as humiliating occurrences of his reign. The billet ran nearly to this effect: "I have received, with sentiments of the deepest concern, the communication which Lord George Germain has made me, of the unfortunate result of the operations in Virginia. I particularly lament it, on account of the consequences connected with it, and the difficulties which it may produce in carrying on the public business, or in repairing such a misfortune. But I trust that neither Lord George Germain, nor any member of the cabinet, will suppose that it makes any alteration in those principles of my conduct which have directed me in past times, and which will always continue to animate me under every event, in the prosecution of the present contest." Not a sentiment of despondency or despair was to be found in the letter; the very handwriting of which indicated composure of mind. Whatever opinion we may entertain relative to the practicability of reducing America, to obedience, by force of arms, at the end of 1781, we must admit that no sovereign could manifest more calmness, dignity, or self-command than George III. displayed in this reply.

Severely as the general effect of the blow received in Virginia was felt throughout the nation, yet no immediate symptoms of ministerial dissolution, or even of Parliamentary

defection became visible in either House. All the animated invectives of Fox, aided by the contumelious irony of Burke, and sustained by the dignified denunciations of Pitt, enlisted on the same side, made little apparent impression on their hearers, who seemed stupefied by the disastrous intelligence. Yet never, probably, at any period of our history, was more indignant language used by the opposition, or supported by administration. In the ardor of his feelings at the recent calamity beyond the Atlantic, Fox not only accused ministers of being virtually in the pay of France, but menaced them in the name of an undone people, who would speedily compel them to expiate their crimes on the public scaffold. Burke, with inconceivable warmth of coloring, depicted the folly and impracticability of taxing America by force, or, as he described it, "shearing the wolf." The metaphor was wonderfully appropriate, and scarcely admitted of denial. Pitt leveled his observations principally against the cabinet, whom he represented as destitute of principle, wisdom, or union of design. All three were sustained, and I had almost said, outdone, by Mr. Thomas Pitt, who, in terms of gloomy despondency, seemed to regard the situation of the country as scarcely admitting of a remedy, under such a Parliament, such ministers, and such a sovereign. Lord North, in this moment of general depression, found resources within himself-he scornfully repelled the insinuations of Fox, as deserving only contempt; justified the principles of the war, which did not originate in a despotic wish to tyrannize over America, but from the desire of maintaining the constitutional authority of Parliament over the colonies; deplored in common with the opposition, the misfortunes which had marked the progress of the contest; defied the threat of punishment; and finally adjured the House not to aggravate the present calamity by dejection or despair, but by united exertion, to secure our national extrication.

Such a picture of the consternation of the British Court, on hearing this disastrous news of the ignominious wreck of a second army in America, has never before been furnished to the public eye; and significantly suggests how the stentorian words of "Sam," "I am master here!" rung portentously even at that early period, in the ears of the hoary and feeble despotisms of the Old World.

"Sam" was now a freeman; and "youngling" as he was, the weight of his ponderous limbs had, even through the storm and crash of battle, made verge and room enough whereon to stretch themselves at ease on their "old couch

CHAPTER XLI.

Trouble with the Indians-Tecumseh's League-General Harrison-Battles with the Indians-The British treat with them-Death of Tecumseh.

JOHN Bull seems to have had enough of "Sam," after the surrender of Cornwallis, to stay his stomach for the present. That portly gentleman would appear now to have come to the conclusion, that he had counted rather much upon the respect due to age, plethora, and gout, and to have become rapidly more philosophical, and more reasonable in his views, as to his own, and the rights of others. The future conqueror of Napoleon had been soundly thrashed by a big baby, to be sure, but what of that?-many a kind, but uxorious father had been conquered by big babies before, through the excess of his parental feeling-and where was the shame? It was all human nature, to say the most of it. Babies will be fractious, and fathers will be fond. And the more John reasoned, and philosophised, the more reasonable and philosophical he became, of course-until finally the bright idea illuminated his brain, through the fumy fog of after-dinner Port, and cigar, that it might be well to let the poor "youngling" up, since he had beaten him with sufficient severity for this, his first fall, and hoped, in the gracious serenity of his more contemplative and propitious mood, that the rude, but willful, though not contumacious boy, might still have some elements of submission and reformation in him. And John grinned with a grim smile, as he hitched up the already nearly bursting waistband, which heaved with the throes of beef, plum-pudding, and paternal sentiment. Ha ha ha! the wild, young dog! I'll let him up now, but may be the (473)

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