After the surrender of Yorktown and the departure of the French, Washington established his headquarters at Newburgh on the Hudson. There he remained with the army until it was disbanded; and the house in which he lived is carefully preserved and shown as an historical museum. [Illustration: SURRENDER OF LORD CORNWALLIS.] There is a pleasant story of La Fayette’s affectionate remembrance of the life there. Just before his death, which occurred in 1834, he gave a dinner party in Paris to the American Minister and some friends who had been old associates. Later in the evening, when it came time for supper, the guests were ushered into a room which was in strange contrast with the elegance of the apartments they had been in. The ceiling was low, with large beams crossing it; there was a single small, uncurtained window, and several small doors. It looked more like an old-fashioned Dutch kitchen than a room in a French house. A long, rough table was meagerly set. A dish of meat stood on it, some uncouth-looking pastry, and wine in decanters and bottles, ready to be poured out into glasses and camp-mugs. “Do you know where we are now?” asked La Fayette as his companions looked about puzzled, and as if in a dream. “Ah! the seven doors and one window! and the silver camp-goblets! We are at Washington’s headquarters on the Hudson, fifty years ago!” He had reproduced the room as a surprise to his friends. * * * * * Peace did not come at once after Yorktown; there was still fighting in a desultory way, but all knew that the end was not far off. Yet the soldiers could not go back to their homes, and Congress was shamefully remiss about paying them. Murmurs deep and loud arose, and Washington suffered keenly from the neglect shown to the army. It required all his patience and tact to keep the murmurs from breaking out into violent action. With no military duty to perform, and with the impatience of men who were suffering injustice, the officers and men began to form all sorts of plans. One of the officers—and how many agreed with him is not known, but the sentiment easily took this form—one of the officers wrote to Washington that it was clear that Congress was a failure. The army had won independence, but no reliance could be placed on the Government. How much more stable was the Government of England! Would not such a government be after all the best for America? It might not be necessary to call the head of the government a king, though even that title many would prefer, but the head ought to have the power of a king. There was much more to the same effect, and the letter was really a feeler to see how Washington would look upon such a movement, which, of course, aimed to make him the monarch of the new nation. Washington did not hesitate a moment, but wrote a letter which must have made the officer’s ears tingle, however honest he may have been in his opinion. Washington said: