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Whilst Burgoyne had been looking in vain for aid from New York, Sir Henry Clinton, at length daring the responsibility of a necessary deed, had set out with three thousand men, in vessels of different kinds, up the Hudson. On the 6th of October��eleven days before Burgoyne signed the capitulation��Clinton set out. Leaving one thousand men at Verplank's Point, he crossed to the other bank with his remaining two thousand, and landed them at Stony Point, only twelve miles from Fort Montgomery. He advanced with one-half of his force to storm Fort Clinton, and dispatched Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell to attack Fort Montgomery. Both forts were to be[245] attacked, if possible, at the same instant, to prevent the one from aiding the other. The simultaneous assaults took place about sunset. Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell was killed leading his column against Fort Montgomery, but his brave troops entered and drove the garrison of eight hundred men from the place. Clinton found the approach to the fort of his own name much more arduous. But on went our brave fellows till they reached the foot of the works, where, having no ladders, they hoisted one another on their shoulders to the embrasures, through which they pushed past the cannon, and drove the Americans from their guns, and across the rampart, at the points of their bayonets. It was dark by the time the forts were taken, but the Americans soon threw light enough on the scene by setting fire to several vessels which were moored close under the guns of the forts. Had the English been disposed to risk the attempt to save them, they were prevented by several strong booms and chains thrown across the river. These they afterwards broke through, and, on the 13th of October, at the very moment that Burgoyne was making his first overtures for surrender, the English troops under General Vaughan ascended, in small frigates, as far as Esopus Creek, only thirty miles overland to Saratoga. But Burgoyne having now surrendered, and Gates being at liberty to send down strong reinforcements to co-operate with Putnam, the English vessels and troops were recalled, and returned to New York. Such was the campaign of 1777; equally remarkable for the valour of the British troops, and for their misfortunes; for the imbecility of their Government, and the incapacity or rashness of their commanders.

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He immediately made use of the opportunity with great skill. In his reply he urged that Fox was announcing a doctrine destructive of the Constitution; that he was denying the right by which Parliament had placed the present family on the throne, and he asserted that the Prince of Wales had no more natural right to assume the regency than any other individual. This led to the severest censures of the Premier by Burke, who declared that Pitt was making himself a dictator, and changing the succession to the regal power in England from hereditary to elective. The same doctrine was announced and combated in the Lords; but there, though Thurlow was silent, waiting to see how matters would go before he hazarded an opinion, Loughborough boldly supported Fox's doctrine, and declared that had the derangement of the king taken place during the non-existence of Parliament, the prince undoubtedly would have been warranted in issuing writs and summoning one. On the 15th of December the Duke of York and his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, both spoke on the question, expressing their sense of the inexpediency of pressing the delicate question of right, and stating that Parliament could proceed to invest the Prince of Wales with the powers of the regency without waiting, as they certainly could not appoint any one else. Thurlow had by this time found that he had no chance with the Whigs, and he now, with unblushing assurance, took the part of Pitt, though every one knew why he had been hanging back till this moment. He declared that he could not see how Parliament could avoid coming to some conclusion on the question of right, seeing that it had been raised. At the same time, he made a most pretendedly pious defence of the rights of the king against the prince and the Whigs, exclaiming��"When I forget my king, may God forget me!" John Wilkes, who was standing in a knot of spectators near the throne, and within a few feet of Thurlow, expressed his disgust at this duplicity in his characteristically vigorous fashion.He handed it over also. On the 10th of February, 1797, the French made a descent on the Welsh coast, which created much alarm at the time, and no less speculation as to its meaning. Four armed vessels, containing about fourteen hundred men, had appeared in the Bristol Channel, off Ilfracombe, in north Devon. They did not attempt to land there, but stood over to the Welsh coast, and landed in a bay near Fishguard. They were commanded by General Tate, and commenced marching inland, and the whole country was in alarm. Lord Cawdor marched against them with three thousand men, including a considerable body of militia, and they at once laid down their arms and surrendered without a shot. Many were the conjectures as to the object of this descent, and historians have much puzzled themselves about a matter which appears plain enough. The men looked ragged and wild, more like felons than soldiers, and were apparently not unwilling to be made prisoners. They were, no doubt, a part of the great Brest fleet meant for Ireland, which had been driven about by the tempests ever since they quitted that port on the 17th of December, and were only too glad to set foot on any land at all, and probably were by this time so famished and bewildered that they did not know whether they were in England or Ireland. Many of their comrades of the same unfortunate expedition never did see land again.��Why, go out to the Everdail estate, under my direction, and watch.��The spoils of the rancheria were varied, and some of them interesting as well. There were quite a hundred mules and horses, and there was money, to the sum of five thousand dollars or more. Also there were gold and silver watches and clothes and saddles and bridles��all the loot of the unhappy haciendas and pueblas down on the flat. But the most treasured of all their possessions was a little photograph album which had begun its varied career in the particular home of the misguided Indian philanthropist, Boston.Landor still rode at the head of his column, but his chin was sunk down on his red silk neckerchief, his face was swollen and distorted under its thick beard, and his eyes were glazed. They stared straight ahead into the sand whirl and the sulphurous glare. He had sent Brewster on ahead some hours before. "You[Pg 138] will want to see Miss McLane as soon as possible," he had said, "and there is no need of both of us here."

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