Lee, so like Arnold in volcanic temper, would be early detached for other service, in Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and South Carolina; would become a prisoner of war at New York; would propose to the British authorities a plan for destroying the American army; would escape execution as a British deserter, on exchange; and afterwards, at the Battle of Monmouth, so nearly realize his suggestion to General Howe, as to show that his habitual abuse of Congress and his jealousy of his Commander-in-Chief were insufficiently atoned for by dismissal from the army, and the privilege of dying in his own bed, unhonored and unlamented. Schuyler, devoted to his country, with rare qualities as a gentleman and with a polish of manner and elegance of carriage that for the time made him severely unpopular with the staid stock of New England, would serve with credit in Canada; organize the army which Gates would command at Saratoga; be supplanted by that officer; retire from service because of poor health; but ever prove worthy of the confidence and love of his commander-in-chief. Of him, Chief Justice Kent would draw a pen-picture of “unselfish devotion, wonderful energy, and executive ability.” Of him, Daniel Webster would speak, in an august presence, in these terms: “I was brought up with New England prejudices against him; but I consider him second only to Washington in the service he rendered to his country in the War of the Revolution.” Putnam, who had been conspicuously useful at Bunker Hill, would, because of Greene’s illness, suddenly succeed that officer in command on Long Island, without previous knowledge of the works and the surrounding country; would, feebly and without system, attempt to defend the lines against Howe’s advance; would serve elsewhere, trusted indeed, but without battle command, and be remembered as a brave soldier and a good citizen, but, as a general officer, unequal to the emergencies of field service. Pomeroy, brave at Bunker Hill, realizing the responsibilities attending the consolidation of the army for active campaign duty, would decline the proffered commission. Montgomery, would accompany Schuyler to Canada, full of high hope, and yet discover in the assembled militia such utter want of discipline and preparation to meet British veterans, as to withhold his resignation only when his Commander-in-Chief pleaded his own greater disappointments before Cambridge. The perspective-glass will catch its final glimpse of Montgomery, when, after the last bold dash of his life, under the walls of Quebec, his body is borne to the grave and buried with military honors, by his old comrade in arms, Sir Guy Carleton, the British general in command.