he hills.

The bayonet is now doing its grim work. The darkness is lighted only
by the flashes from the guns of the redcoats. The bewildered British
are driven at the point of the bayonet into the corners of the fort,
and {87} cry, "Mercy, mercy, dear Americans!" "Quarter! quarter!"
"Don't kill us! we surrender!"

At one o'clock the work was done,--thirty minutes from the time the
marsh was crossed! As soon as they were sure of victory, Wayne's men
gave three rousing cheers. The British on the war vessels in the
river, and at the fort on the opposite side of the river, answered;
for they thought that the attacking party had been defeated. The only
British soldier to escape from Stony Point was a captain. Leaping
into the Hudson, he swam a mile to the Vulture and told its captain
what had happened. In this way the news of the disaster reached Sir
Henry Clinton at breakfast.

{88} After the surrender, Wayne wrote the following letter to
Washington:

Stony Point, 16th July, 1779, 2 o'clock.

Dear General,

The fort and garrison with Colonel Johnson are ours. Our officers and
men behaved like men who are determined to be free.

Yours most sincerely,
Ant'y Wayne.

General Washington.

The news spread like wildfire. Wayne and his light infantry were the
heroes of the hour.

Two days afterwards, Washington, with his chief officers, rode down
to Stony Point and heard the whole story. The commander in chief
shook hands with the men, and "with joy that glowed in his
countenance, here offered his thanks to Almighty God, that He had
been our shield and protector amidst the dangers we had been called
to encounter."

Washington did not, of course, intend to hold Stony Point, for the
enemy could besiege it by land and by water. The prisoners, the
cannon, and the supplies were carried away, and very little was left
to the foe but the bare rock of their "little Gibraltar."

This exploit gave the Continental soldier greater confidence in
himself. It proved to the British that the "rebel" could use the
bayonet with as much boldness and effect as the proudest grenadier.
The fight {89} was not a great affair in itself. Only fifteen
Americans were killed and eighty-three wounded; of the British,
sixty-three were killed and some seventy wounded.

As for Clinton, although he put on a bold face in the matter, and
spoke of the event as an accident, he owned that he felt the blow
keenly.

"Mr. Washington" was still maste