No one familiar with military affairs can critically examine the record of these events without the conviction that neither the campaigns of Napoleon I., nor of Frederic, called the Great, exhibit any more consummate generalship than the commander-in-chief of the American armies displayed through these trying scenes. Washington was head and shoulders above any of his generals. There was no one of them whom the voice of impartial history pronounces to be, in any respect, his rival. There was probably not one but he, who could have carried our country successfully through the terrible ordeal. A large force of the British was encamped at Germantown, a small village but a few miles out from Philadelphia. The settlement consisted of a single street, about two miles long, running north and south. The houses were generally one story, sometimes of stone, standing apart from each other, surrounded with yards and gardens. Washington, as bold as he was cautious, ever watching for an opportunity to strike a blow, and ever avoiding to strike where he would receive a heavier blow in return, formed the plan to attack the foe by surprise. The plan was admirably arranged and heroically executed. It would have proved a signal success but for one of those accidents which no human foresight can foresee. In the gathering darkness of the evening of the 2d of October, he commenced a march of fifteen miles, over roads so rough that the morning was beginning to dawn gloomily through clouds and a dense fog, when he approached the British encampment. The British sentries gave the alarm. The roll of drums and bugle-peals rap sublimely along the extended lines of the foe, rousing the sleepers to battle. Washington hurled his troops upon them, with the impetuosity which ever characterized his attacks. Wayne led. The British broke and fled. Hotly they were pursued. The fugitives, reaching reinforcements, rallied, and for a short time fought bravely. But again they broke in a panic, and ran, abandoning their artillery. All were mingled in the flight and the pursuit. The Americans, exasperated by many cruel deeds of the English, plied the bayonet ferociously. The slaughter was dreadful. The officers found it very difficult to restrain their fury towards those who threw down their arms and cried for quarter. In the terrific excitement of such scenes, even the most humane men often lose their self-possession, and conduct with frenzy which is truly maniacal.