’And now, soldiers and brethren, we have met in a peaceful valley, on the eve of battle, while the sunlight is dying away behind yonder heights—­the sunlight that, to-morrow morn, will glimmer on scenes of blood.  We have met, amid the whitening tents of our encampment,—­in times of terror and of gloom have we gathered together—­God grant it may not be for the last time!

’It is a solemn moment.  Brethren, does not the solemn voice of nature seem to echo the sympathies of the hour?  The flag of our country droops heavily from yonder staff; the breeze has died away along the green plain of Chadd’s Ford—­the plain that spreads before us, glistening in the sunlight; the heights of the Brandywine arise gloomy and grand beyond the waters of yonder stream, and all nature holds a pause of solemn silence, on the eve of the uproar and bloodshed and strife of to-morrow.’

“The propriety of this language was manifest.  Breathless attention was pictured upon every countenance, and the smallest whisper could be distinctly heard.  Pausing a moment, as if running back, in his mind’s eye, over the eventful past, he again repeated his text:—­

“‘They that take the sword shall perish by the sword.’

’And have they not taken the sword?

’Let the desolated plain, the blood-soddened valley, the burnt farm-house, blackening in the sun, the sacked village, and the ravaged town, answer; let the whitening bones of the butchered farmer, strewn along the fields of his homestead, answer; let the starving mother, with the babe clinging to the withered breast, that can afford no sustenance, let her answer; with the death-rattle mingling with the murmuring tones that mark the last struggle for life—­let the dying mother and her babe answer!

’It was but a day past and our land slept in peace.  War was not here—­wrong was not here.  Fraud, and woe, and misery, and want, dwelt not among us.  From the eternal solitude of the green woods arose the blue smoke of the settler’s cabin, and golden fields of corn looked forth from amid the waste of the wilderness, and the glad music of human voices awoke the silence of the forest.

’Now!  God of mercy, behold the change!  Under the shadow of a pretext—­under the sanctity of the name of God—­invoking the Redeemer to their aid, do these foreign hirelings slay our people!  They throng our towns; they darken our plains; and now they encompass our posts on the lonely plain of Chadd’s Ford.

“The effect was electric.  The keen eye of the in-trepid Wayne flashed fire.  The neighboring sentinels, who had paused to listen, quickened their pace, with a proud tread and a nervous feeling, impatient for vengeance on the vandal foe.

“Gathering strength once more, he checked the choking sensations his own recital had caused, and continued: 

“‘They that take the sword shall perish by the sword.’

“Brethren, think me not unworthy of belief, when I tell you that the doom of the Britisher is near!  Think me not vain, when I tell you that beyond the cloud that now enshrouds us, I see gathering, thick and fast, the darker cloud and the blacker storm of a Divine retribution!