spent ball in the thigh, and, though the wound was not serious, he retired to his tent, and the command fell upon General Lyman. He conducted matters with such skill and bravery, that a greater number of the French regulars were killed or wounded. He directed his sharpshooters against the regulars, until they were forced to fall back, and then a bomb thrown from one of their howitzers exploded among the Canadians and savages, sending them flying to the woods.

Lyman knew that the moment to turn the tide of battle had come, so, with a large number of provincials, he leaped the breast work and, with clubbed guns, soon put the remnant of the assailants to flight.

Dieskau, bleeding from three wounds, sat on a stump trying to stay the flight of his men. His dead horse lay but a rod away, and his saddle, with his holsters, was at his feet. He was discouraged and faint from loss of blood and refused to leave camp. One of his own soldiers, having some personal grudge against the baron, fired at him, sending a bullet into his right side. Dieskau was found by the Americans sitting on the log, leaning forward, his sword in his right hand and his left pressed on his breast. He was carried into camp, where Johnson and his wife carefully nursed him. When he returned to France a year later, he

gave Johnson the elegant sword which he had in his hand when captured.

He died from the effect of his wounds two years later.

Although Johnson had had very little to do with the repulse, he was lauded in England and in America for it. It often happens that a general gets the praise for the gallant conduct of a subaltern. Johnson was by the king created a baronet, and Parliament voted him a large sum of money to support the dignity of the title. Johnson was a nephew of Admiral Sir Peter Warren, who was a favorite at court, which probably accounts for the special favors shown him.

Johnson, however, was incompetent and undeserving of such a command. Lyman and others urged him to pursue the enemy; but he would not. The Mohawks were burning to avenge their beloved chief, and the Oneidas were anxious to follow the enemy; still Johnson remained in camp, and three days later the Oneidas left and returned. home. While the French were retreating, some New Hampshire militia, under Captain McGinnes, with a small party of New York militia under Captain Folsom, who were on their way from Fort Edward, fell on them with such fury, that they were compelled to desert their baggage. McGinnes was mortally wounded.

All the while, Johnson, who was to be rewarded for doing nothing, lingered at the head of Lake George, employing his men in the construction of Fort William Henry.

The student of American history will observe that there had already sprung up a rivalry between the provincial soldiers and the British regulars. At times, even during the hottest fighting, this hatred threatened to break out into open insurrection. A jealousy which had long existed between the royal party and the colonial party was greatly intensified by the royal governor's attempts to force the colonists to pay the expense of the regulars.

"If we send our soldiers to America to protect Americans, they should pay them," argued the royalists.

On the other hand, the Americans saucily declared:

"We are able with our own men and officers to

protect our homes. The uninhabited portion of the country belongs to England, and should be protected at England's expense.

Although the year 1755 had been a stormy one in America, and the French and English had been shedding each other's blood, France and England were still at peace. The British cabinet was, at this time, composed of men who were likely, by their folly and dishonesty, to involve the nation in

a foolish and useless war. Secret orders were suddenly issued to the commanders of all British menof-war to seize all French vessels, public or private. It is reported that the king's share of the spoils accruing from these unlawful seizures would amount to three and a half millions of dollars. while eight thousand French marines and sailors were made captives. The French minister, when notified of what had taken place, indignantly exclaimed:

"What has taken place is nothing but a system of piracy on a grand scale unworthy of civilized people." The French monarch was at last aroused by the indignities offered his people and declared: 'Never will I forgive the piracies of this insolent nation."

In an autograph letter to the British king, he demanded full reparation for the insults offered to the French flag, and the injury done to the French people.

Thus the home government of the two nations took up the quarrel. The campaigns of 1755 had assumed all the features of a regular war between the respective subjects. The Acadians had been driven from home; Braddock had been slain, and Dieskau was dying from a mortal wound. On the 17th of May, 1756, a declaration of war went forth from the British cabinet. The French cabinet re

sponded with a similar declaration, June 9th, and thus the peace, solemnly guaranteed at Aix-laChapelle, was rudely broken to gratify the ambition of politicians longing for power. While the two chief powers of Europe had been preparing for the great contest for supremacy in the New World, the thoughtful men among the English-American colonists, who loved liberty more than power, had been musing on the glorious probabilities of the future. A school teacher in Worcester named John Adams, in a letter to Nathan Webb in 1755, among other things wrote:

"Mighty States are not exempted from change. . . Soon after the Reformation, a few people came over into this new world for conscience sake. This apparently trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire into America. . . . If we can remove the turbulent Gallics, our people, according to the exactest calculations, will, in another century, become more numerous than in England itself. The united force of Europe will not be able to subdue us. The only way to keep us from setting up for ourselves, is to disunite us.

History records how this golden dream became a reality.

Shirley, the new commander-in-chief of the British forces in America, called a convention of royal governors at New York, late in 1755, where