disaffected in their rear."

"And has all this been done without bloodshed? Washington had staff in
him, in the old French business."

"_His_ stuff is not doubted, sir; but his men make miserable work
of it. Really I am sometimes ashamed of having been born in the
country. These Yankees fight like wrangling women, rather than
soldiers."

"How's this!--You spoke honestly of the affair at Lexington, and wrote
us a frank account of the murderous work at Bunker Hill. Have their
natures changed with the change of season?"

"To own the truth, sir, they did wonders on the Hill, and not badly in
the other affair; but all their spirit seems gone. I am quite ashamed
of them. Perhaps this declaration of independence, as it is called, has
damped their ardour."

"No, my son--the change, if change there is, depends on a general and
natural law. Nothing but discipline and long training can carry men
with credit through a campaign, in the open field. Fathers, and
husbands, and brothers and lovers, make formidable enemies, in sight of
their own chimney-tops; but the most flogging regiments, we used to
say, were the best fighting regiments for a long pull. But, have a
care, Bob; you are now of a rank that may well get you a separate
command, and do not despise your enemy. I know these Yankees well--you
are one, yourself, though only half-blooded; but I know them well, and
have often seen them tried. They are very apt to be badly commanded,
heaven cursing them for their sins, in this form more than any other--