At day-break the beat of drums roused them from their sleep, but the foe had fled, and had been so long on the way that Wash-ing-ton could not hope to check them. Our loss in the fight at Mon-mouth was 69, while 250 of the King's troops were left dead on the field. Some of the troops on both sides had died in the swamp, and some were found on the edge of a stream that ran through it, where, worn out with their toils, and weak from heat and thirst they had crawled to drink and die. Lee's pride had been so hurt that he wrote to Wash-ing-ton in a way that he should not have done to his Com-mand-er-in-chief, and he was brought to court by the Board of War and tried for his wrong deeds. His guilt was proved, and he was told that he could not serve for the next twelve months. He went to his home in Vir-gin-i-a where he led a queer kind of a life. His house was a mere shell, and had but one room, but lines were chalked on the floor and each space was used as if it was a room by it-self. Here was his bed, there were his books; in this space he kept all his horse gear, and in that one he cooked and ate his meals. With pen and with tongue he strove to harm Wash-ing-ton, whom his shafts failed to hurt, and who spoke not an ill word of Lee. He liked him as a friend but did not think he was fit to lead troops to war. Lee died in the course of four years, and on his death-bed he thought he was on the field of war, and his last words were a call to his men to stand by him. For a year or two more the strife was kept up on the coast from Maine to Flor-i-da, and both red-coats and red-skins took part in scenes that chill the blood to read of. Houses were burnt and land laid waste, forts were stormed and seized from our troops whose force was too small to hold them. Now and then there was a gain for our side, but in spite of his ill luck Wash-ing-ton held on with a brave heart, and would die at his post but would not yield. In the first part of the year 1780 we find Wash-ing-ton in camp at Mor-ris-town, with a lot of half-fed and half-clad troops. No such cold had been known in this zone. The Bay of New York froze so hard that the ships-of-war that lay in it were ice-bound. Food was scant, and there was a lack of fire-wood. Wash-ing-ton saw what a chance there was for a bold stroke, but he had no funds with which to fit out his troops, or to move them to the coast. The cost of war was great, and gold was scarce. He could not strike a big blow for New York to wrest it from the hands of the foe, as he might have done at this time had his troops been well-fed and well-clad but he would do what he could in a small way.