LIBRARY DD0D5b3'^St,h "^^0^ j-^-^-^i. . • no *y A ^^-^ 4 0. 'a^« ^^,, ^ ^^'-^ fy'-^s,.. THE LIFE GEORGE WASHINGTON, COMMANDER IN CHIEF ARMIES or THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, THROUGHOUT THE WAR WHICH ESTABLISHED THEIR INDEPENDKNCE ; FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. BY DAVID RAMSAY, M. D. AUTHOR OP THB HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. WITH NOTES, BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR. ITHACA, N. Y. MACK, ANDRUS, & WOODRUPP. 1840. TO THE YOUTH OF THE UNITED STATES, IN THE HOPE THAT, FROM THE EXAMPLE OF THEIR COMMON FATHER, THEY WILL LEARN TO DO AND SUFFER WHATEVER TtfEIR COUNTRy's GOOD MAY REQUIRE AT THEIR HAKDS, THE FOLLOWING LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON, IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, BY THE AUTHOR. PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION, The Life of George Washington is a book which ought to be y>ob» sessed by every American. The young men of our country should study it thoroughly, as furnishing to them an elevated example of Valour, patriotism, and virtue, of military skill and civil qualifications, which few can equal, but which all may endeavour to imitate. It is to be feared, however, that, while the name of Washington is familiar to so many, a very small proportion of those who yet profess to revere his memory, have made themselves acquainted with the interesting history of his character and services. His Life, by Doct. Ramsay, is among the first Biographies of the " feather of his country" which were written, and appeared when his deeds were fresh, and the purity of his motives and the value of his publick services were justly ap- preciated. But in the multiplication of new books and the fluctuations of literary taste, this early tribute to the fund of American History and Biography has been suffered to pass out of print, and has become almost a stranger to the reading publick. It is, however, a brief and faithful narrative, comprised within a space which renders it accessible to all, and within the means and the leisure of those who have neither time nor money to devote to more voluminous publications. These considerations have induced the publishers of this edition to revive and endeavour to perpetuate a work, the intrinsick merits of which, far outmcasuring its bulk, need only be known to be highly estimated. They have annexed to it a Biographical Sketch of the Author, and have added various Notes, by way of illustration. These additions, they trust, will render the book not the less valuable or acceptable to all classes of readers : But even without these, the com^ prchensive dedication of the author, on the preceding page, and the eloquent epitome of the character and services of Washington, from page 243 to the conclusion of the Biography, which has never been surpassed by any writer, should rescue the work from oblivion, and are worth the price of the entire volume. CONTENTS Page BiOGHAPHicAL Sketch of the Author, . 9 CHAP. I. Of George Washington's birth, family, and education. Of his mis- sion to the French Commandant on the Ohio, in 1753. His military operations as an officer of Virginia, from 1754 to 1758, and his subsequent employments to the commencement of the Ameri- can revolution, ».» v ....... 19 CHAP. n. Retrospect of the origin of the American revolutionary war. Of George Washington as member of Congress, in 1774 and 1775. As Commander in Chief of the armies of the United Colonies in 1775 and 1776, and his operations near Boston, in these years, . 35 CHAP. m. CAMPAIGN OP 1776. Of the operations of General Washington in New York and New Jersey. The battle on Long Island. The retreat from York Island and through Jersey. Thebattlesof Trenton and Princeton, 45 CHAP. IV. CAMPAIGN OF 1777. Of the operations of General Washington in New Jersey and Penn* sylvania, in the campaign of 1777. The battles of Brandywine and Germantown. Washington is advised by the Rev, Jacob Duche, to give up the contest. The distresses of the American army. Its winter quarters in Valley Forge. Gen Washington is assailed by the clamours of discontented individuals and publick bodies, and by the designs of a faction to supersede him in his office as Commander in Chief, ............ 64 CHAP. V. CAMPAIGN OF 1778. General Washington prepares for the campaign of 1778. Surprises the British, and defeats ihem at Monmouth. Arrests General Lee. Calms the irritation excited by the departure of the French fleet from Rhode Island to Boston. Dissuades from an invasion of Canada, . . > . v , 83 VI CONTENTS. CHAP. VI. CAMPAIGN OF 1779. Page The distresses of the American army. Gen. Wnshington calms the uneasineps in the Jetseyline Finds great difficulty in supporting his troops and concentrating their force. Makes a disposition of them with a view lo the security of West Point. Directs an expe- dition against the Six Nations of Indians, and for the reduction of Stony Point. Pauhis Hook taken. A French fleet, expected to the northward, arrives on the coast of Georgia. Washington, un- equal to offensive operations, retires into winter quarters, ... 97 CHAP. VII, CAMPAIGN OF 1780. Gen. Washington directs an expedition against Staten Island* Gives an opinion against risking an army for the defence of Charleston, S. C. Finds great difficulty in supporting his army. Kniphausen invades Jersey, but is prevented from injuring the American stores. Marquis de La Fayette arrive'^, and gives assu- rances that, a French fleet and army might soon be expected on the American const. Energetick measures of co-operation resolved upon, but so languidly executed, that Washington predicts the ne- cessity of a more efficient system of national government. A French fleet and army arrives, and a combined operation against New York is resolved upon, but the arrival of a supeiiour British fleet deranges the whole plan, 107 CHAP. VIII. CAMPAIGN OF 1781. The Pennsylvania line mutinies. The Jersey troops follow their ex- ample, but are quelled by decisive measures. Gen. Washington commences a tnilitary journal, detailing the wants and distresses of his army. Is invited to the defence of his native state, Virtrinia, but declines. Repremands the manager of his private estate for furnishing the enemy with supplies, to prevent the destruction of his property. Extinguishes the mcipient flames of a civil war, respecting the independence of the state of Vermont. Plans a combined operation as^ainst the British, and deputes Lieut. Col. John Laurens to solicit the co-operation of the French. The combined f)rces of both nations rendezvous in the Chesapr^ake, and take Lord Cornv-allis and his army prisoners of war. Washing- ton returns to the vicinity of New York, and the necessity of pre- paring for a new campaign, 120 CHAP. IX. 1782 and 1783. Prospects of peace. Languor of ihe states. Discontents of the ar- my. Gen. Washington preveiits the adoption of rash measures. Some new levies in Pensylvania mutiny, and are quelled. Wash- CONTENTS. VU Page inglon recommends measures for the preservation of indepen- dence, peace, liberty, and happiness. Dismisses his army. Enters New York. Takes leave of his officers. Settles his accounts. Repairs to Annapolis. Resigns his commission. Retires to Mount Vernon, and resumes his agricultural pursuits, 139 CHAP. X. General Washington, on retiring from publick life, devotes himself to agricultural pursuits. Favours inland navigation. Declines of- fered emoluments from it. Urges an alteration of the fundamental rules of the society of the Cnicinnati. Regrets the defects of the Federal system, and reconmiends a revisal of it. Is appointed a membei of the continental convention for that purpose, which, after hesitation, he accepts. Is chosen President thereof. Is soli- cited to accept the Presidency of the United States. Writes sun- dry letters expressive of the conflict in his mind, between duty and inclination. Answers applicants for offices. His reluctance to enter on pubHck hfe, 169 CHAP. XI. Washington elected President. On his way to the seat of govern- ment at New Vork receives the most flattering marks of respect. Addresses Congress. The situation of the United States in their foreign and domcstick relations, at the inauguration of Washing- ton. Fills up publick offices solely with a view to the publick good. Proposes a treaty to the Creek Indians, which is at first re- jected. Col. Willet induces the heads of the nation to come to New Vork, to treat there. The North-Western Indians refuse a treaty, but after defeating Generals Harmar and Sinclair, they are defeated by Gen. Wayne. They then submit, and agree to treat. A new system is introduced for meliorating their condition, . . 186 CHAP. XII. Geperal Washington attends to the foreign relations of the United States. Negotiates with Spain. Difficulties in the way. Thefree navigation of the Mississippi is granted by a treaty made with Major Pinckney. Negotiations with Britain. Difficulties in the way. War probable. Mr. Jay's mission. His treaty with Great Britain. Opposition thereto. Is ratified. Washington refuses papers to House of Representatives. British posts in the United Slates eva- C'lated. Negotiations with France. Genet's arrival. Assumes illeiral powers, in violation of the neutrality of the United States. Is flattered by the peojjle, but opposed by the executive. Is recall- ed. General Pinckney sent as publick minister to adjust disputes with France. Is not received. Washingtor^declines a re-election, .and addr. sses the people. His last address to the national legisla- ture. Recommends a navy, a military academy, and other publick institutions, 200 CHAP. XIII. Washington rejoices at the prospect of retiring. Writes to the Secre- tary of State, denying the authenticity of letters said to be from him to J. P. Custis and Lund Washington, in 1776. Pays respect Vlll CONTENTS. Page to his successor, Mr. John Adams. Review of Washington's ad- ministration. He retires to Mount Vernon. Resumes agricultural pursuits. Hears with regret the aggression of the French re- pubUck. Corresponds on the subject of his taking the command of an army to oppose the French. Is appointed Lieutenant-Gen- , eral. His commission is sent to him hy the Secretary of war. His letter to President Adams on the receipt thereof. Directs the organization of the proposed army. Three Envoys Extraordinary sent to France, who adjust all disputes with Buonaparte, after the overthrow of the Directory. Gen. Washington dies. Is honoured by Congress, and by the citizens. His character, ..... 2Sl BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH DAVID RAMSAY, MD Our author, Doctor David Ramsay, ranks among the eminent and useful men of the American revolution. His life and character should therefore be known, and his memory cherished, by the latest de- scendants of the patriotick fathers of that eventful period. For the following sketch, the publishers of this volume are principally indebted to an able article in the Analectick Magazine, for September, 1815. it is from a source upon which full reliance may be placed ; and while we have adhered closely to the facts, we have for brevity sake, suppressed much of the eulogium with which personal friendship or patriotick sympathy embued the original. David Ramsay was born in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, on the 2d day of April, 1749. He was the youngest son of James Ramsay, a respectable farmer, who had emigrated from Ireland at an early age, and by the cultivation of his farm, with his own hands, provided the means of support and education for a numerous family. The father was an intelligent and pious man. He early sowed the seeds of know- ledge, and instilled the principles of religion and virtue, into the minds of his children ; and he lived to reap the fruits of his labours, and to see his offspring grow up around him, ornaments of society and the props of his declining years. These early impressions were never, in the progress of time, the bustle of business, the excitements of war and politicks, and the duties of his profession, erased from the mind of Dr. Ramsay. He venerated the sacred volume. It was connected with all his tenderest recollections. It had been the com- panion of his childhood, and through his whole life, his guide, and friend, and comforter; and in his last will, written by his own hand, about five months before his death, when committing his soul to his Maker, he takes occasion to call the Bible •' the best of books." He cherished always the fondest attachment for the place of his nativity, and dwelt with peculiar pleasure on the little incidents of his childhood. Dr. Ramsay had the misfortune to lose in early life an amiable and excellent mother; but this loss was repaired, as far as possible, by the renewed assiduity of his father. This good man, though not at the time in affluent circumstances, contrived to give to his three sons a liberal education. They graduated at Princeton College. William, the eldest, became a respectable minister of the gospel ; Na- thaniel was bred a lawyer, and settled in Baltimore ; and David studied for and became a physician. 2 X LIFE OF THE AUTHOB. The writer we are following, states as derived " from the very best sources," some singular circumstances relative to the life of Dr. Ram- say : " He was, from his infancy, remarkable for his attachment to books, and for the rapid progress he made in acquiring knowledge. At six years of age he read the Bible with facility, and, it is said, was peculiarly delighted with the historical parts of it. When placed at a grammar school, his progress was very remarkable. It was no uncommon thing, says a gentleman who knew him intimately at that time, to see students who had almost arrived at manhood, taking the child upon their knees in order to obtain his assistance in the con- struction and explanation of difficult passages in their lessons. Be. fore Dr. Ramsay was twelve years of age he had read, more than once, all the classicks usually studied at grammar schools, and was, in every respect, qualified for admission into college ; but being thought too young for collegiate studies, he accepted the place of assistant tutor in a reputable academy in Carlisle, and, notwithstanding his tender years, acquitted himself to the admiration of every one. He continued upward of a year in this situation, and then went to Prince- ton. On his examination he was found qualified for admission into the junior class ; but in consequence of his extreme youth, the faculty advised him to enter as a sophomore, which he did, and having passed through college with high reputation, he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts in the year 1765, being then only sixteen years of age. What an interesting picture is presented by the youth of Dr. Ramsay ! That a child but twelve years of age should have* made such progress in learning, and, what is more remarkable, that he should have been a teacher of a publick school, appears almost incredible. With what peculiar emotions must every one have beheld this little prodigy seated on the knee, not to be amused with a toy, but to instruct full grown men. " Having completed the usual college course at sixteen, he was enabled to devote some time to the general cultivation of his mind before he commenced the study of physick, and he spent nearly two years in Maryland, as a private tutor in a respectable family, devoting himself to books, and enriching his mind with stores of useful know- ledge. *' He then commenced the study of physick under the direction of Dr. Bond, in Philadelphia, where he regularly attended the lectures delivered at the College of Pennsylvania, the parent of that celebrated medical school which has since become so distinguished." Dr. Rush was then Professor of Chymistry in that institution ; and a friendship commenced between the master and pupil, which lasted through life. Ramsay appears to have embraced, defended, and prac- tised, the principles introduced by Dr. Rush into the theory and prac- tice of medicine. He was graduated Bachelor of Physick early in the year 1772, and immediately commenced the practice of physick, at the " Head of the Bohemia," in Maryland, where he continued to practise with much reputation for about a year, when he removed to Charleston, South Carolina. On the occasion of this removal, Dr. Rush presented him a letter of recommendation, dated 15th Septem. ber, 1773, in which he says, " • Dr. Ramsay studied physick regularly LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. XI with Dr. Bond, attended the hospital, and publick lectures of medi- cine, and afterwards graduated Bachelor of Physick, with great eclat ; it is saying but little of hira to tell you, that he is far superiour to any person we ever graduated at our college ; his abilities are not only good, but great ; his talents and knowledge universal ; I never saw so much strength of memory and imagination, united to so fine a judg- ment. His manners are polished and agreeable — his conversation lively, and his behaviour, to all men, always without offence. Joined to all these, he is sound in his principles, strict, nay more, severe in his morals, and attached, not by education only, but by principle, to the dissenting interest. He will be an acquisition to your society. He writes, — talks — and what is more, lives well. I can promise more for him, in every thing, than I could for myself.' " Such was the character of Dr. Ramsay at the commencement of his career in life. " On settling in Charleston, he rapidly rose to eminence in his pro- fession and general respect. His talents, his habits of business and uncommon industry, eminently qualified him for an active part in publick affairs, and induced his fellow-citizens to call upon him, on all occasions, when any thing was to be done for the common welfare. In our revolutionary struggle he was a decided and active friend of his country, and of freedom, and was one of the earliest and most zealous advocates of American independence. His ardent imagina- tion led him to anticipate the most delightful results, from the natural progress of the human mind when it should be freed from the shackles imposed on it by the oppressions, the forms, and the corruptions of monarchy and aristocracy. *' On the 4th of July, 1778, he was appointed to deliver an oration before the inhabitants of Charleston. The event of the contest was yet doubtful ; some dark and portentous clouds still hung about our political horizon, threatening, in gloomy terror, to blast the hopes of the patriot ; the opinions of many were poised between the settled advantages of monarchical government, and the untried blessings of -a republick. But the mind of David Ramsay was never known to waver ; and in this oration, the first ever delivered in the United States on the anniversary of American independence, he boldly de- clares, that ' our present form of government is every way preferable to the royal one we have lately renounced.' In establishing this po- sition he takes a glowing view of the natural tendency of republican forms of government to promote knowledge, to call into exercise the active energies of the human soul — to bring forward modest merit — to destroy luxury, and establish simplicity in the manners and habits of the people, and, finally, to promote the cause of virtue and religion. " In every period of the war Dr. Ramsay wrote and spoke boldly, and constantly ; and by his personal exertions in the legislature, and in the field, was very serviceable to the cause of American liberty. The fugitive pieces written by him, from the commencement of that struggle, were not thought by himself of sufficient importance to be preserved ; yet it is well known to his cotemporaries, that on political topicks, no man wrote more or better than Dr. Ramsay in all the pub- lick journals of the day. Xll LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. *' For a short period he was with the army as a surgeon, and he was present with the Charleston Ancient Battalion of Artillery, at the siege of Savannah. " From the declaration of independence to the termination of the war, he was a member of the legislature of the state of South Caro- lina. For two years he had the honour of being one of the privy council, and, with two others of that body, was among those citizens of Charleston who were banished by the enemy to St. Augustine. While this transaction is justly regarded as disgraceful to the British government, it was glorious for those who cheerfully submitted to exile, and all the horrors of a prison ship, rather than renoimce their principles. Many still live who remember well the 17th of August, 1780. It was on the morning of the Lord's day, while the Christian patriot, on his knees before his Maker, was invoking the aid of Hea- ven for his bleeding country, seeking consolation for himself, and in his petitions even remembering his enemies, that a band of armed men burst in upon him, dragged him from his habitation like a felon, and conveyed him to the prison ship — the tomb for living men. We shall not attempt to paint the scene which ensued when these political martyrs were to bid adieu to their relatives and friends, perhaps to meet them no more. **A number of the most respectable citizens of Charleston, prisoners on parole, and entitled to protection by all the rules held sacred in civiHzed warfare, were seized at the same time, and consigned to exile. The sole reason alleged by the enemy for this ontrajrR was. ' that Lord Cornwallis had been highly incensed at the perfidious revolt of many of the inhabitants, and had been informed that several of the citizens of Charleston had promoted and fomented this spirit.' "Inconsequence of an exchange of prisoners. Dr. Ramsay was sent back to the United States, after an absence of eleven months. He immediately took his seat as a member of the state legislature, then convened at Jacksonbbrough. It was at this assembly that the various acts confiscating the estates of the adherents to Great Britain, were passed. Dr. Ramsay being conciliatory in his disposition, tole- rant and himiane in his principles, and the friend of peace, although he well new that the conduct of some of those who fell under the opera- tion of these laws, merited all the severity that could be used toward them, yet he remembered, also, that many others were acting from the honest dictates of conscience. He could not, therefore, approve of the confiscation acts, and he opposed them in every shape. While in this, we know that he differed from some of the best patriots of the day, yet we cannot but admire that magnanimous spirit which could thus forget all its recent wrongs, and refuse to be revenged. Dr. Ramsay continued to possess the undiminished confidence of his fellow citizens and was, in February, 1782, elected a member of the conti- nental congress. In this body he was always conspicuous, and par- ticularly exerted himself in procuring relief for the southern states then overrun by the enemy." He is represented at this period, by the translator of Chastellux Travels, as possessing " a cultivated under- standing, a persevering mind, and an active enthusiasm, founded on LIFE OF THE AtJTHOR. JtUl a thorough knowledge of the cause he was engaged in, and the most perfect conviction of its rectitude." " On the peace he returned to Charleston, and recommenced the practice of his profession, but he was not permitted long to remain in private life, and, in 1785, was again elected a member of congress from Charleston district. The celebrated John Hancock had been chosen president of that body, but being unable to attend from indis. position, Dr. Ramsay was elected president pro tempore, and contin. ued for a whole year to discharge the important duties of that station, with much ability, industry, and impartiality. In 1786 he again returned to Charleston, and re-entered the walks of private life. In the b'tate legislature, and in the continental congress, Dr. Ramsay was useful and influential; and, indeed, the success of every measure to which he was known to be opposed, was considered doubtful. He was a remarkably fluent, rapid and ready speaker ; and though his manner was ungraceful, though he neglected all ornament, and never addressed himself to the imagination or the passions of his audience, yet his style was so simple and pure, his reasonings so cogent, his remarks so striking and original, and his conclusions resulted so clearly from his premises, that he seldom failed to convince. *' He was so ready to impart to others his extensive knowledge on all isubjects, that whenever consultation became necessary, his opinion and advice was looked for as a matter of course, and it was always given with great brevity and perspicuity. Thus he became the most active member of every association, publick or private, to which he was attached. " In general politicks he was thoroughly and truly a republican. Through the course of a long life, his principles suffered no change — » he died in those of his youth. With mere party politicks he had little to do. He bore enmity to no man because he differed from him in opinion. Always disposed to believe his opponents to be the friends of their country, he endeavoured, by his language and example, to allay party feeling, and to teach all his fellow citizens to regard thera^ selves as members of the same great family." As a physician Dr. Ramsay was assiduous aud successful in the practice of his profession. But it is as an author, that the character of Dr. Ramsay is best known and most distinguished. His reputation was early established, not only in the United States, but in Europe. He may be regarded as the father of history in the new world, and ranked among those upon whom America must depend for her literary character. He was admirably calculated by nature, education and habit, to become the historian of his country. He possessed a memory so tenacious, that an impression once made on it could never be effaced. The minutest circumstances of his early youth, — facts and dates relative to every incident of his own life, and all publick events, were indel- ibly engraven upon his memory. He Was, in truth, a living chronicle. His learning, and uncommon industry, eminently fitted him for the pursuits of a historian. He was above prejudice and absolute master of passion. " I declare " says he, in the introduction of his first work, *' that, embracing every opportunity of obtaining genuine information, 2* XIV tiFE OF THE AUTHOR. I have sought for truth, and have asserted nothing but what I believe to be fact." His first historical work, was the " History of the Revolution in South Carolina." For this work he was carefully collecting materi- als from the beginning to the close of the war. After it was com- pleted, it was submitted to the perusal of General Greene, who having given his assent to all the statements contained therein, it was pub- lished in 1785. Its reputation soon spread throughout the United States, and it was translated into French, and read with great avidity in Europe. It was the wish of Dr. Ramsay to have first published a general History of the Revolution ; but want of materials delayed this work until a later period. When, therefore, in the year 1785, he took his seat in congress, finding himself associated with many of the most distinguished heroes and statesmen of the revolution, and having free access to all the publick records and documents that could throw light on the events of the war, he immediately commenced the History of the American Revolution. With Dr. Franklin and Dr. Witherspoon, both of them his intimate friends, he conferred freely, and gained much valuable information from them. Anxious- to obtain every important fact, he also visited General Washington at Mount "Vernon, and was readily furnished by him with all the information required, relative to the events in which that great man had been the chief actor. Dr.- Ramsay thus possessed greater facilities for procuring materials for the History of the Revolution, than any other individual of the United States. He had been an eyewitness of many of its events, and was a conspicuous actor in its busy scenes, H« was the friend of Washing- ton, Franklin, Witherspoon, and a host of others, who were intimately acquainted with all the events of the war;, and it may be said with perfect truth, that no writer was ever more industrious in collecting facts, nor more scrupulous irr relating them. The History of the Revolution was published in 1790, and was re- ceived with universal approbation. It is not necessary to analyze the character of a work that has stood the test of publick opinion, and passed through the crucible of criticism. It at once became a popular work, and merits to be so at this day. The first edition was soon dis- posed of; a second was called for, and was speedily exhausted, and the book is now difficult to be procured. From the same sources of information from which his History of the Revolution was drawn, with the advantage of an intimate per- sonal acquaintance with its subject, Dr. Ramsay, in 1801, gave to the world his Life of WasMngton ; as fine a piece of biography as can be found in any language. It will not sink in comparison with the best productions of ancient or modern times. Indeed, our biographer had one advantage over all others — we mean the exalted and unrivalled character of his hero — a character " above all Greek, above all Ro- man fame." As this is the work which follows the present sketch, no further notice of it is here necessary. In 1808, Dr. Ramsay published his History of South Carolina, in two volumes 8vo. which fully supported the reputation he had sa justly acquired. The death of his wife, in 1811, induced him to pub^ LIFE OF THE AtJTHOK. XV lish, a short time after, the memoirs of her life, which contained alsa some of the productions of her pen. She was an amiable woman ; possessed from nature a superiour understanding, and education had added higher excellence to her native virtues; while her whole cha- racter was refined and exalted by the influence of Christianity. The experience of such a woman, whose principles had borne her tri- umphantly through all the trials and vicissitudes of life, should not, and will not, be lost to the world. Dr. Ramsay also published several minor works, chiefly of a local nature, but possessing merit in their several departments. A few- weeks before his death, he commenced collecting materials for the life of General Andrew Jackson, with which he intended to connect a particular account of the origin and progress of the Indian war, and of the state of society in Louisiana. This interesting work has gone with him to the tomb. The increasing demand for the History of the American Revolu-- tion, induced the author, several years before his death, to resolve ta publish an improved edition of that work. Ke intended it to embrace a history of the United States, from their first settlement as English colonies, and to have brought it down to the end of the late war with Great Britain. He intended to publish it in connexion with his Uni- versal History; but had completed it only up to 1808, when death arrested his labours. As a History of the United States, up to that period, and continued to 181.5, by Rev. Samuel Stanhope Smith and other literary gentlemen, it was published in 1817, in 3' volumes, 8vo. But the last and greatest work of the American historian, is one upon which he was employed for more than forty years previous to his death. It bears the title of "Universal History Americanized, or a Historical View of the World from the earliest records to the 19th century, with a particular reference to the state of society, literature, religion, and form of government in the United States of America.'* The patriotick motives of the author, are indicated in the title of this work. They were to furnish to his countrymen a record of the past for study or reference, in which the resources, acts and institutions of their own country, should assume their just rank and importance in the pages of history. This work was not published until several years after the death of Dr. Ramsay, viz : in 1819, and was comprised in 12 vols. 8vo. the first three volumes being the above mentioned History of the United States. The voluminous and expensive form of publication, has prevented this History from being generally known to the American publick. Should it, in the hands of enterprif-ing pub-- Ushers, assume a more economical shape, it would doubtless soon be more generally read and justly appreciated. " The labour of such an undertaking must have been great indeed, and when we remember the other numerous works which occupied the attention of the author, and the interruptions t<3 which he was constantly exposed from professional avocations, we are at a loss to conceive how he found time for such various employments. But it has been truly said of him, that no ' miser was ever so precious of his gold as he was of his time ;' he was not merely economical, but parsimonious of it to the highest degree. From those avocations XVl LirU OP THE AUTHOR. Which occupy no great proportion of the . lives of ordinary men, Dr. Ramsay subtracted as much as possible. He never allowed for the table, for recreation, or repose, a single moment that was not abso- lutely necessary for the preservation of his health. His habits were those of the strictest temperance. He usually slept four hours — rose before the light, and meditated with his book in his hand until he could see to read. He had no relish for the pleasures of the table — he always cat what was set before him, and having snatched his hasty meal, returned to his labours. His evenings, only, were allotted to recreation. He never read by the light of a candle '. with the first shades of evening he laid aside his book and his pen, and, surrounded by his family and friends, gave loose to those paternal and social feelings which ever dwell in the bosom of a good man. '• The writer of this memoir speaks the opinion of men well quali. ficd to judge, when he says that as a historian, Ramsay is faithful, judicious and impartial ; that his style is classical and chaste, and if occasionally tinctured by originality of idea, or singularity of expres. sion, it is perfectly free from affected obscurity or laboured ornament. Its energy of thought is tempered by its simplicity and beauty of style. " His remarks on the nature of man, and various other topics, which incidentally present themselves, display much observation, and extensive information. His style is admirably calculated for history. Though it is evident the style of the rhetorician does not generally become the historian, yet few writers hare preserved this distinction. Modern histories are so full of ornament that, in the blaze of elo- quence, simple facts are lost and unnoticed, and the pages of the professed historian frequently contain little more than profound obser- Vations on human life and political institutions. " It was the opinion of Dr. Ramsay 'that a historian should be an impartial recorder of past events for the information of after ages ;' and by this opinion he was always governed. History, that bids hour.s which are past to return again, and gives us the experience of a thou- sand years in one day, loses half its value when it ceases to be a sim- ple record of past events. " The reputation of Dr. Ramsay throughout the United States is, perhaps, the best criterion of his merits as a writer ; and still the value of his works, and particularly of his histories of the revolution, can scarcely be said to be properly appreciated by the public. They who acted well their parts on the glorious scenes of the revolution, could never forget any thing connected with it ; but those who have o-rown up since that event, and millions yet unborn, must owe an everksting debt of gratitude to David Ramsay. Soon might the events of our revolution have been lost in the mists of time, and even the memory of our heroes would have gradually faded into oblivion ; but in the ' History of the Revolution' is found a monument to their memory, more beautiful than man could rear. There their names, their virtues, and their noble deeds, are inscribed on tablets more du- rable than brass. Never can they be forgotten. The American his- torian has secured to them immortality of fame." In private life. Dr. Ramsay was distinguished for philanthropy, en. terprise, industry, and perseverance. His enterprises, however, had LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. XVII for their object the good of others rather than his own emolument. He was alike regardless of wealth, and free from ambition, and his active philanthropy only made him an author. His active mind was ever devising means for the improvement of the moral, social, intellec- tual and physical state of his beloved country — to extend the benefits of education to every family — to extend Christian knowledge and pri- vileges, and to promote commerce and internal improvexnents — in each of these objects he was persevering and enthusiastick. It was, however, the weak point of his character, that he was not a judge of the affairs of the world. From few of his enterprises, there- fore, did he derive pecuniary benefit, and from others he sustained heavy losses. By the Santee Canal, in South Carolina, alone, of which he was one of the projectors, he sustained a loss of 30,000 dollars. His affairs were therefore embarrassed, and he left little in- heritance to eight surviving children but his works and his reputation. In society, Dr. Ramsay was a most agreeable companion. His memory was stored with an infinite fund of interesting or amusing anecdotes, which gave great sprightliness and zest to his conversation. He never assumed ji superiority over those with whom he conversed, and always took peculiar pleasure in the society of young men of in- telligence and virtue. As a husband and a father, and in every domestick relation of Mfe, he was alike exemplary. His firm religious faith, and reliance upon a particular and just Providence, supported him amidst many trials and misfortunes which attended bis declining days. Three times was he called to mourn over ihe graves of his dearest eaitiiij' nicnuo. a. son, grown to manhood, who promised fair to imitate his father's vir- tues, was suddenly cut down. A tender and excellent wife, the mother of his eight surviving children, was torn from his embrace, and con- signed to the tomb. But amidst the troubled waters of misfortune^ he stood like a rock, and though its waves broke over him, he was firm and immoveable. His death was sudden and tragical. He fell by the hand of an assassin whom he never wronged, but whom, on the contrary, he had humanely endeavovired to serve. A man by the name of Linnen, a tailor by trade, conceiving himself wronged in some lawsuits, had committed several acts of violence, among which was an attempt upon the life of his attorney, whom he severely wounded. For this act he was cast into prison. Under a plea of derangement, Dr. Ram- say and Dr. Simmons were appointed by the court to examine and report upon his case. They concurring in the opinion that Linnen was deranged, and that it would be dangerous to let him go at large, he was confined until exhibiting symptoms of returning sanity. When at large he behaved peaceably for sometime, but was heard to declare, that "he would kill the doctors who had joined the conspiracy against him." This threat was communicated to Dr. Ramsay, but conscious of having given no cause of offence, he disregarded it. On Saturday,, the 6th of May, 1815, Dr. Ramsay was met in Broad-street, about one o'clock in the afternoon, in sight of his own door, by the wretched maniack, who passed by, and taking a large horse-pistol out of a handkerchief in which it was concealed, shot the doctor in the back. XVm LIFE OF THE AUTHOB. The pistol was charged with three bullets ; one passed through thc coat without doing any injury, one entered the hip and passed out at the groin, and the third entered the back near the kidneys, and lodged in the intestines. Having been carried home, and being surrounded by a crowd of anxious citizens, after first calling their attention to what he was about to utter, he said, " I know not if these wounds be mor- tal ; I am not afraid to die ; but should that be my fate, I call on all here present to bear witness, that I consider the unfortunate perpetra- tor of this deed a lunatick, and free from guilt." During the two days that he lingered on the bed of death, he alone could survey, without emotion, the approaching end of his life. Death had for him no terrours ; and on Monday, the eighth of May, about seven in the morning, " He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace." Such was the life, the character, and the death, of David Ramsay. His numerous virtues were, indeed, alloyed by some faults; but whatever they were, they were such as sprung from the head, not from the heart. Let his country, whom he faithfully served, and whose history he endeavoured faithfully to record and perpetuate, do justice to his memory. THE LIFE OF GEORGE WASHINGTON CHAP. I. Of George Washington's birth, family, and education— Of his mission to the French commandant on the Ohio, in 1753 — His mihtary operations as an officer of Virginia, from 1754 to 1758, and his subsequent em- ployments to the commencement of the American Revolution. 1753—1758. The ancestors of George Washington were among the first settlers of the oldest British colony in America. He was the third in descent from John Washington, an En- glish gentleman, who about the middle of the 17th century emigrated from the north of England, and settled in West- moreland county. Virginia. In the place where he had fixed himself, his great grandson, the subject of the following history, was born on the 22d of February, 1732. His im- mediate ancestor was Augustine Washington, who died when his son George was only ten years old.* The educa- tion of the young orphan, of course, devolved on his mother, who added one to the many examples of virtuous matrons, who, devoting themselves to the care of their children, have trained them up to be distinguished citizens. In one instance her fears, combining with her affection, prevented a measure, which, if persevered in, would have given a direction to the talents and views of her son, very different from that which laid the foundation of his fame. George Washington, when only fifteen years old, solicited and ob- tained the place of a midshipman in the British navy ; but his ardent zeal to serve his country, then at war with * George was the third son, and the first of a second marriage. To his brother Lawrence, the oldest surviving, by the first marriage, the family estate descended. 20 THE LIFE OF France and Spain, was, on the interference of his motlter, for the present suspended, and for ever diverted from the sea service.* She Hved to see him acquire higher honours than he ever could have obtained as a naval officer ; nor did she depart this life till he was elevated to the first offices, both civil and military, in the gift of his country. She was, nevertheless, from the influence of long established habits, so fur from beinc: partial to the American revolution, that she often regretted the side her son had taken in the controversy between her king and her country. f In the minority of George Washington, the means of education in America were scanty ; his was therefore very little extended beyond what is common, except in mathe- maticks. Knowledge of this kind contributes more perhaps than any other to strengthen the mind. In this case it was doubly useful; for, in the early part of his life, it laid the foundation of his fortune, by qualifying him for tlie office of a practical surveyor, at a time when good land was of easy attainment ; and its inmate connexion with the mili- tary art, enabled him at a later period to judge more cor- rectly of the proper means of defending his country, when he was called upon to preside over its armies, J * Providential circumstances seem also to have prevented his entrance and promotion in the regular army of England, into which service, before any hostile manifestations between Great Britain and her colonies, he was desirous of entering. Governor Dinwiddle, of Virginia, in a letter to Gen. Abercrombie, of May, 1756, highly recommended the young Wash- ington, as a person of great merit, and much beloved in Virginia, for an appointment in a regiment about to be raised for the regular service by the Earl of Loudon. t This imputation, which must have been generally beheved at the time Dr. Ramsay wrote, is refuted by G. W. Custis, Esq. grandson of Mrs. Washington, wife of the General, in a biographical sketch of Washing- ton's mother, published in the "Female Biography" of Mr. Knapp. " Such a surmise" as "that the mother was disposed to favour the royal cause," he says, "has not the slightest foundation in truth." Like many other patriotick mindS; who nevertheless engaged promptly in the strug- gle, she had doubts, at the commencement, of its final success; but with them she was happily disappointed ; and, when the news of the surren- der of CornwaUis reached her, she raised her hands to heaven and ex- claimed, " Thank God, war will now be ended, and peace, independence, and happiness, bless our country." t The education of Washington, though generally, and doubtless hi some respects justly, represented as defective, was not neglected, but appears, on the contrary, to have been conducted with great care and good judgement. We doubt whether, for the practical course on which he was destmed to enter, he could possibly have received a better one. He -enjoyed the inestimable benefit of passing his youth in the healthy GEOKGE WASHINGTON. 21 Of the first nineteen years of George Washington's life, little is known. His talents being more solid than showy, were not sufficiently developed for publick notice, by the comparatively unimportant events of that early period. His contemporaries have generally reported, that in his youth he was grave, silent, and thoughtful ; diligent and methodi- cal in business, dignified in his appearance, and strictly honourable in all his deportment ; but they have not been able to gratify the publick curiosity with any striking an- ecdotes.* His patrimonial estate was small, but that little was managed with prudence and increased by industry. In the gayest period of his life, he was a stranger to dissipation and riot. That he had established a solid reputation, even in his juvenile years, may be fairly presumed from the following circumstances. At the age of nineteen he was appointed one of the adjutants-general of Virginia, with the rank of major. When he was barely twenty-one, he was employed by the government of his native colony, in an enterprise which required the prudence of age as well as the vigour of youth. The French, as the first European discoverers of the river Mississippi, claimed all that immense region whose waters run into that river. In pursuance of this claim, in the year 1753, they took possession of a tract of country supposed to be within the chartered limits of Virginia, and were pro- ceeding to erect a chain of posts from the lakes of Canada to the river Ohio, in subserviency to their grand scheme of connecting Canada with Louisiana, and limiting the Eng. lish colonies to the east of the Alleghany mountains. Mr. Dinwiddie, then governor of Virginia, despatched Washing- atmosphere of home .'—his attention was directed to the studies of sub- stantial rather than ideal importance, and his morals and manners were apparently the objects of earnest solicitude. His earliest papers consist of exercises in arithmetick, geometry, and surveying, executed vith great neatness and accuracy. In a book, dated when he was thirteen years old, there is a manuscript, occupying thirty folio pages, entitled Forms of Writing, consisting of models for papers to be used in the transaction of business, such as a note of hand, a bill of exchange, a bond, an inden- ture, a lease, and a will. In the same book there is another curious article, entitled. Rules of civility and decent behaviour in company and conversation, containing one hundred and ten maxims of this descrip- tion, carefully written out and numbered. * Much light is thrown upon his early history and habits, in the col- lection of the Writings of Washington, by Mr. Sparks; an interesting but voluminous and expensive work. 8 22 THE LIFE OF ton with a letter to the French commandant on the Ohio, remonstrating against the prosecution of these designs, as hostile to the rights of his Britannick majesty. The young envoy was also instructed to penetrate the designs of the French; to conciliate the affection of the native tribes; and to procure useful intelligence. In the discharge of this trust, he set out on the 15th of November, from Will's Creek, then an extreme frontier settjftment, and pursued his course through a vast extent of unexplored wilderness, amidst rains and snows, and over rivers of very difficult passage, and among tribes of Indians, several of whom, from previous attentions of the French, were hostile to the English. When his horses were incompetent, he proceeded on foot with a g«m in his hand and a pack on his back. He observed every thing with the eye of a soldier, particularly designated the forks of the Monongahela and Alleghany rivers, (the spot where Fort Duquesne was afterwards built, and where Pittsburgh now stands) as an advantageous posi- tion for a fortress. Here he secured the affections of some neighbouring Indians, and engaged them to accompany him. With them he ascended the Alleghany river and French Creek, to a fort on the river le Boeuf, one of its western branches. He there found Mons. Le Gardeur de St. Pierre, the commandant on the Ohio, and delivered to him Dinwid- dle's letter ; and receiving his answer, returned with it to Wil- liamsburgh on the 78th day after he had received his appoint- ment. The patience and firmness displayed on this occa- sion by Washington, (added to his judicious treatment of the Indians) both merited and obtained a large share of applause. A journal of the whole was published, and inspir- ed the publick with high ideas of the energies both of his body and mind. The French were too intent on their favourite project of extending their empire in America, to be diverted from it by the remonstrances of a colonial governour. The an- swer brought by Washington was such as induced the as- sembly of Virginia to raise a regiment of 800 men, to de- fend their frontiers and maintain the right claimed in behalf of Great Britain over the disputed territory. Of this Mr. Fry was appointed colonel, and George Washington, lieutenant-colonel. The latter advanced with two com- panies of this regiment early in April, as far as the Great Meadows, where he was informed by some friendly OEOBGE WASHIXGTON. 23 Indians, that the French were- erecting fortifications in the fork between the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers ; and also, that a detachment was on its march from that place towards the Great Meadows. War had not been yet formal- ly declared between France and England, but as neither was disposed to recede from their claims to the lands on the Ohio, it was deemed inevitable, and on the point of com- mencing. Several circumstances were supposed to indicate an hostile intention on the part of the advancing French detachment. Washington, under guidance of some friend- ly Indians, in a dark night surprised their encampment, and, after firing once, rushed in and surrounded them. The com- manding officer, Mr. Jumonville, was killed, one person es- caped, and all the rest immediately surrendered.* Soon after this affair Col. Fry died, and the command of the regiment devolved on Washington, who speedily collected the whole at the Great Meadows. Two independent com- panies of regulars, one from New York, and one from South- Carolina, shortly after arrived at the same place. Col. Washington was now at the head of nearly 400 men. A stockade, afterwards called Fort Necessity, was erected at the Great Meadows, in which a small force was left, and the main body advanced with a view of dislodging the French from Fort Duquesne, which they had recently erected, at the confluence of the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers They had not proceeded more than thirteen miles, when they were informed by friendly Indians, " that the French, as numerous as pigeons in the woods, were advancing in an hostile manner towards the English settlements, and also, that Fort Duquesne, had been recently and strongly rein- forced." In this critical situation, a council of war unan- imously recommended a retreat to the Great Meadows, which was eflfected without delay, and every exertion made to render Fort Necessity tenable. Before the works intend- ed for that purpose were completed, Mons. de Viliier, with a considerable force, attacked the fort. The assailants * It was alleged by the French commandant at the time, and the calumny was afterwards repeated by the enemies of Washington, and found a place in the works of several respectable French historians, that Jumonville was killed, or assassinated, in cold blood, while parleying with Washington's detachment, and reading a communication from his commanding officer. From this charge Washington is triumphaniJy vindicated by Mr. Sparks, in his Collection, vol. 2, page 447. 24 THE LIFE OF were covered by trees and high grass. The Americans re- ceived them with great resokition, and fought some within the stockade, and others in the surrounding ditch. Wash- ington continued the whole day on the outside of the fort, and conducted the defence with the greatest coolness and intrepidity. The engagement lasted from ten in the morn- ing till night, when the French commander demanded a parley, and offered terms of capitulation. His first and second proposals were rejected ; and Washington would ac- cept of none short of the following honourable ones, which were mutually agreed upon in the course of the night. " The fort to be surrendered on condition that the garrison should march out with the honours of war, and be permitted to retain their arms and baggage, and to march unmolested into the inhabited parts of Virginia." The legislature of Virginia, impressed with a high sense of the bravery and good conduct of their troops, though compelled to surrender the fort, voted their thanks to Col. Washington and the offi- cers under his command, and they also gave three hundred pistoles to be distributed among the soldiers engaged in this action, but made no arrangements for renewing offensive operations in the remainder of the year 1754. When the season for action was over, the regiment was reduced to in- dependent companies, and Washington resigned his com- mand. The controversy about the Ohio lands, which began in Virginia, was taken up very seriously by Great Britain, and two British regiments were sent to America to support the claims of his Britannick majesty. They arrived early in 1755, and were commanded by Gen. Braddock. That offi- cer, being informed of the talents of George Washington, invited him to serve the campaign as a volunteer aid-de- camp. The invitation was cheerfully accepted, and Wash- ington joined General Braddock near Alexandria, and pro- ceeded with him to Will's Creek, afterwards called Fort Cumberland. Here the army was detained till the 12th of June, waiting for wagons, horses, and provisions. Wash- ington had early recommended the use of pack horses, instead of wagons, for conveying the baggage of the army. The propriety of this advice soon became apparent, and a considerable change was made in conformity to it. The army had not advanced much more than ten miles from GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 25 Fort Cumberland, when Washington was seized with a vio- lent fever, but nevertheless continued with the army, being conveyed in a covered wagon, after he had refused to stay behind, though so much exhausted as to be unable to ride on horseback. He advised the general to leave his heavy ar- tillery and baggage behind, and to advance rapidly to Fort Duquesne, with a select body of troops, a few necessary stores, and some pieces of light artillery. Hopes were in- dulged that by this expeditious movement. Fort Duquesne might be reached in its present weak state, with a force sufficient to reduce it, before expected reinforcements should arrive. Gen. Braddock approved the scheme, and submit- ted it to the consideration of a council held at the Little Meadows, which recommended that the commander in chief should advance as rapidly as possible with 1200 selectmen, and that Col. Dunbar should remain behind with the re- mainder of the troops and the heavy baggage. This ad- vanced corps commenced its march with only 30 carriages, but did not proceed with the rapidity that was expected. They frequently halted to level the road, and to build bridges over inconsiderable brooks. They consumed four days in passing over the first nineteen miles from the Little Mea- dows. At this place, the physicians declared that Colonel Washington's life would be endangered by advancing with the army. He was therefore ordered by Gen. Braddock to stay behind with a small guard till Dunbar should arrive with the rear of the army. As soon as his strength would permit, he joined the advanced detachment, and immediately entered on the duties of his office. On the next day, July 9th, a dreadful scene took place. When Braddock had crossed the Monongahela, and was only a few miles from, Fort Duquesne, and was pressing forward without any ap- prehension of danger, he was attacked in an open road, thick set with grass. An invisible enemy, consisting of French and Indians, commenced a heavy and v/ell directed fire on his uncovered troops. Tlie van fell back on the main body,, and the whole was thrown into disorder. Marksmen level- led their pieces particularly at officers, and others on horse- back. In a short time, Washington was the only aid-de- camp left alive and not wounded. On him, therefore, de- volved the whole duty of carrying the general's orders. He was of course obliged to be constantly in motion, traversing 3* 26 THE LIFE OF the field of battle on horseback in all directions. He had two horses shot under hira, and four bullets passed through his coat, but he escaped unhurt, though every other officer on horseback was either killed or wounded. Providence preserved him for further and greater services.* Through- out the whole of the carnage and confusion of this fatal day, Washington displayed the greatest coolness and the most perfect self-possession. Braddock was undismayed amidst a shower of bullets, and by his countenance and example, encouraged his men to stand their ground ; but valour was useless, and discipline only offered surer marks to the des- tructive aim of unseen marksmen. Unacquainted with the Indian mode of fighting, Braddock neither advanced upon nor retreated from the assailants, but very injudiciously en- deavoured to form his broken troops on the ground where they were first attacked, and where they were exposed un- covered to the incessant galling fire of a sheltered enemy. He had been cautioned of the danger to which he was ex- posed, and was advised to advance the provincials in front of his troops, to scour the woods and detect ambuscades, but he disregarded the salutary recommendation. The ac- tion lasted near three hours, in the course of which the ge- neral had three horses shot under him, and finally received a wound, of which he died in a few days in the camp of Dunbar, to which he had been brought by Col. Washington * Fifteen years afterwards, Washington, in company with Dr. Craik, his intimate friend, who was with him in the battle, was travelling on an expedition to the western country. While near the junction of the Great Kenhawa and Ohio rivers, a company of Indians came to them with an interpreter, at the head of whom was an aged and venerable chief. This personage made known to them by the interpreter, that hearing Colonel Washington was in that region, he had come along way to visit him, adding, that during the battle of the Monongahela, he had singled him out as a conspicuous object, fired his rifle at him many times, and direct- ed his young warriors to do the same, but to his utter astonishment none of their balls took effect. He was then persuaded that the youthful hero was under the special guardianship of the Great Spirit, and ceased to fire at him any longer. He was now come to pay homage to the nian who was the particular favourite of Heaven and who could never die in battle. Mr. Custis of Arhngton, to whom these incidents were related by Dr. Craik, has dramatised them in a piece called the Indian Prophe- cy. — Sparks. Upon this occasion, the Rev. Mr. Davies, a clergyman in Virginia, in a sermon preached soon after Braddock's defeat, made this proplietick re- mark, in reference to the preservation of Col. Washington: "I cannot but hope that Providence has preserved this youth to be the saviour of this country." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 27 and others. On the fall of Braddock, his troops gave way in all directions, and could not be rallied till they had cross, ed the Monongahela. The Indians allured by plunder, did not pursue with vigour. The vanquished regulars soon fell back to Dunbar's camp, from which, after destroying such of their stores as could be spared, they retired to Philadel- phia. The officers in the British regiments displayed the greatest bravery. Their whole number was 85, and 64 of them were killed or wounded. The common soldiers were so disconcerted by the unusual mode of attack, that they soon broke, and could not be rallied. The three Virginia companies in the engagement behaved very differently, and fought like men till there were scarcely 30 men left alive in the whole. This reverse of fortune rather added to, than took from, the reputation of Washington. His countrymen extolled his conduct, and generally said and believed, that if he had been commander, the disasters of the day would have been avoided.* Intelligence of Braddock's defeat, and that Col. Dunbar had withdrawn all the regular forces from Virginia, arrived while the assembly of that colony was in session. Impress- ed with the necessity of protecting their exposed frontier settlements, they determined to raise a regiment of sixteen companies. The command of this was given to Washing- ton. So great was the public confidence in the soundness of his judgement, that he was authorized to name the field officers. His commission also designated him as command- er in chief of all the forces raised, or to be raised, in Vir- ginia. In execution of the duties of his new office, Washington,, after giving the necessary orders for the recruiting service, visited the frontiers. He found many posts, but few soldiers* Of these the best disposition was made. While on his way to Williamsburg to arrange a plan of operations with the lieutenant-governor, he was overtaken by an express below * Among other unheeded advice, Washington endeavoured to dissuade Braddock from forming his army in the European manner. But he was an obstinate disciplinarian of the European school, and knew nothing of" the Indian mode of warfare. To this obstinacy he fell a victim, and Washington received him, when mortally wounded, in his arms. In this same engagement, with Washington, were Gen. Lee, Gen. Gates, and Gen. Stevens— all of them afterwards distinguished in the army of the Revolution. 28 THE LIFE OP Fredericksburg, with information that the back settlements were broken up by parties of French and Indians, who were murdering and capturing men, women, and children, burn- ing their houses, and destroying their crops, and that the few troops stationed on the frontiers, unable to protect the coun- try, had retreated to small stockade forts, Washington al- tered his course from Williamsburg to Winchester, and en- deavoured to collect a force for the defence of the country. But this was impossible. The inhabitants, instead of as- sembling in arms, and facing the invaders, fled before them, and extended the general par.ick. While the attention of in. dividuals was engrossed by their families and private con- cerns, the general safety was neglected. The alarm became universal, and the utmost confusion prevailed.* Before any adequate force was collected to repel the assailants, they had safely crossed the Alleghany mountains, after having done an immensity of mischief. Irruptions of this kind were repeatedly made into the frontier settlements of Vir- ginia, in the years 1756, '57, and '58. These generally con- sisted of a considerable number of French and Indians, who were detached from Fort Duquesne. It was their usual practice on their approaching the settlements, to divide into small parties, and avoiding the forts, to attack solitary fami- lies in the night, as well as the day. The savages, accus- tomed to live in the woods, found little difficulty in conceal- ing themselves till their fatal blow was struck. Sundry unimportant skirmishes took place, with various results, but the number killed on both sides was inconsiderable, when compared with the mischief done, and the many who were put to death, otherwise than in battle. The invaders could ♦ In a letter to Gov. Dinwiddle, Oct. 11, 1755, Washington gives rather a ludicrous example, in confirmation of this general cowardice, so differ- ent from the spirit which actuated the patriolick people of Virginia during the revolutionary struggle. After mentioning the particulars of a false alarm, he says, "These circumstances are related, only to show what a panick prevails among the people; how much they are alarmed with the most usual and customary cries, and yet how impossible it is to get them to act in any respect for their common safety. As an instance of this, Colonel Fairfax, who arrived in town while we were upon a scout, im^ mediately sent to a noble captain not far off, to repair with his company forthwith to Winchester, With coolness and motieration, this, great cap- tain answered, that his wife, family and com, were all at stake — so were his soldiers ; therefore, it was impossible for him to come.. Such is the example of the officers ; such the behaviour of the men ; and upon such circumstances depends the safety of our country 1" GEORGE WASHINGTON. 29 seldom be brought to a regular engagement. Honourable war was not in their contemplation. Plunder, devastation, and murder, were their objects. The assemblage of a res- pectable force to oppose them, was their signal for retreat, ing. Irruptions of this kind were so frequent for three years following Braddock's defeat, that in Pennsylvania, the fron- tier settlers were driven back as far as Carlisle, and in Ma- ryland, to Fredericktown, and in Virginia, to the Blue Ridge, The distresses of the inhabitants exceeded all description. If they went into stockade forts, they suffered from the want of provisions — were often surrounded, and sometimes cut off. By fleeing, they abandoned the conveniences of home, and the means of support. If they continued on their farms, they lay down every night under apprehensions of being murdered before morning. But this was not the worst. Captivity and torture were frequently their portion. To all these evils, women, aged persons, and children, were equally liable with men in arms ; for savages make no distinction. Extermination is their object. To Washington the inhab- itants looked for that protection he had not the means of giving. In a letter to the governour, he observed, " the sup- plicating tears of the women, and moving petitions of the men, melt me with such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly de- clare, if I know my own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided that would con- tribute to the people's ease." Virginia presented a frontier of three hundred and sixty miles, exposed to these incursions. Hard was the lot of Washington, to whom was intrusted the defence of these extensive settlements without means ade- quate to the purpose. The regiment voted by the assembly was never filled. Its actual number was oftener below than above 700 men. The militia afforded a very feeble aid, on which little reliance could be placed. They were slow in collecting, and when collected, soon began to hanker after home ; and while in camp, could not submit to that disci- pline, without which an army is a mob. The militia laws were very defective. Cowardice in time of action, and sleeping while on duty, though crimes of the most destruc- tive nature, were very inadequately punished by the civil code under which they took the field. Desertion and muti- ny, for some considerable time, subjected the offenders to nothing more than slight penalties. Washington was in- 30 THE LIFE OP cessant in his representations to the governour and to the as- sembly, that no reliance could be placed on the mlHtia, under existing regulations, and that the inconsiderable number, en- listed for regular service, together with the plans proposed for the security of the frontiers, were altogether inadequate. He not only pointed out the defects of the systems which had been adopted, but submitted to the consideration of those in power, such measures as bethought best, and particularly recommended, in case offensive operations were not adopted, that twenty.two forts, extending in a line of three hundred and sixty miles, should be immediately erected and garri- soned by two thousand men, in constant pay and service ; but on all occasions gave a decided preference to the reduc- tion of Fort Duquesne, as the only radical remedy for the evils to which the frontier settlements were exposed. Pro- positions to this effect were made and urged by him in 1756 and 1757, both to the government of Virginia, and the com- manders in chief of the British forces in America ; but a short-sighted policy in the first, and a preference given by the last to a vigorous prosecution of the war in the northern colonies, prevented their acceptance. To his inexpressibl© joy, the project obtained, in the year 1758, the complete ap- probation of Gen. Forbes, who was charged with the defence of the middle and southern colonies. This being resolved upon, the movements of the army were directed to that point. Part of the force destined for this expedition was at Philadelphia ; part at Ray's Town ; and part dispersed on the frontiers of Virginia. To bring all together, was a work of time and difficulty. Washington urged the necessity of an early campaign ; but such delays took place that he did not receive orders to assemble his regiment at Winchester, till the 24th of May ; nor to proceed from thence to Fort Cumberland, till the 24th of June ; nor to proceed to Ray's Town, till the 21st September. The main body did not commence their march from Ray's Town till the 2d of Oc- tober, and it was as late as the 25th of November when they reached Fort Duquesne. These delays were extremely mor- tifying to Washington, and threatened to render the cam- paign abortive. He urged the necessity of expedition, and most pointedly remonstrated against one of the principal causes of delay. This was a resolution adopted by his su- periours, for opening a new road for the army, in preference GEORGE WASHINGTON. 31 to that which was generally known by the name of Gen. Braddock's. Being overruled, he quietly submitted. In- stead of embarrassing measures he thought injudicious, the whole energies of himself and his regiment were exerted to make the most of those which his commanding officer pre- ferred. The progress of the army was so slow that it did not reach Loyal Hannah till the 5th of November. Here it was determined in a council of war, " to be unadvisable to proceed any further that campaign." If this resolution had been adhered to, the only alternative would have been to winter an army of 8000 men in a cold inhospitable wil- derness, remote from all friendly settlements, or to tread back their steps and wait for a more favourable season. In either case they would have suffered immensely. The pro- priety of the remonstrances made by Washington against the many delays which had taken place, now became obvi- ously striking. The hopes of restoring peace to the fron- tier settlements by reducing Fort Duquesne, began to vanish. But contrary to all human appearances, success was now offered to their grasp at the very moment they had given up every hope of obtaining it. Some prisoners were taken, who gave such information of the state of the garrison, as induced a reversal of the late determination, and encouraged the general to proceed. — Washington was in front superintending the opening of the road for the accommodation of the troops. They advanced with slow and cautious steps until they reached Fort Du- quesne. To their great surprise they found the fort evacu- ated, and that the garrison had retreated down the Ohio. The reasons for the abandonment of so advantageous a po- sition, must be looked for elsewhere. The British had urged the war with so much vigour and success against the French to the northward of Ohio, that no reinforcements could be spared at Fort Duquesne. The British fleet had captured a considerable part of the reinforcements designed by France for her colonies. The tide of fortune had begun to turn against the French in favour of the English. This weak- ened the influence of the former over the Indians, and caused them to withdraw from the support of the garrison. Under different circumstances, the success of the campaign would have been doubtful, perhaps impracticable. The benefits which resulted from the acquisition of Fort Duquesne, proved 32 THE LIFE OF the soundness of Washington's judgement in so warmly urg- ing, for three years, an expedition for its reduction. These were not confined to Virginia, but extended to Pennsylva- nia and Maryland. While the French were in possession of that post, the Indians near the Ohio were entirely at their beck. . This was their place of rendezvous, and from it they made frequent and ruinous incursions into these three colo- nies. They neither spared age nor sex, but killed or capti- vated indiscriminately all who came in their way. Fire and devastation — the scalping knife and tomahawk, marked their route. A complete revolution in the disposition of the Indians, resulted from the expulsion of the French. Always prone to take part with the strongest, the Indians deserted their ancient friends, and paid court to those who, by recent conquest, were now in possession of the country. A treaty of peace was soon afterwards concluded with all the Indian tribes between the lakes and the Ohio. Fort Duquesne henceforward assumed the name of Fort Pitt, received con- siderable repairs, and was garrisoned by 200 men from Washington's regiment. It became as useful in future to the Enghsh settlements, as it had been injurious while in the occupation of the French. The campaign of 1758 ended the military career of Col. Washington, as a provincial officer. The great object on which his heart was set, the reduction of Fort Duquesne, being accomplished, he resigned his commission. During the three preceding years in which he was charged with the defence of Virginia, none of those great events oc- curred which enliven and adorn the page of history ; yet the duties he performed were extremely arduous. He es- tablished exact discipline in his regiment, though unaccus- tomed to restraint, and infused into them such a spirit as made them, when in action, fight like men, and die like soldiers. The difficulties of defending such an extensive frontier, with so inadequate a force, would have chagrined almost any other man into a resignation of the command, but only excited in him greater importunity with the ruling powers, for the correction of errors. The plans he proposed, the systems he recommended for conducting the war, displayed an uncommon vigour of mind. He retired from the army with the thanks of his regiment, and the esteem not only of GEORGE WASHINGTON. 33 his countrymen, but of the officers of the British army ; and what is particularly remarkable, with the undiminished confidence of the frontier settlers, to whom he was unable to extend that protection they expected from his hands. They were thoroughly convinced he had made the best pos- sible use of his scanty means for the security of so exten- sive a frontier ; and to the weight of his advice in recom- mending, and spirited co operation in executing, they as- cribed a large proportion of the merit of the late successful expedition against Fort Duquesne ; an event from which they promised themselves an exemption from the calamities under which they had long laboured. As a reward of his gallant and patriotick services, he shortly after obtained the hand of Mrs. Custis, who, to a tine person and large fortune, added every accomplishment which contributes to the hap- piness of married life.* Col. Washington, by the death of his elder brother Lawrence, had a few years before acquired an estate situated on the Potomack, called Mount Vernon, in compliment to admiral Vernon, who, about the year 1741, commanded the British fleet in an expedition against Car- thagena, in which expedition Mr. Lawrence Washington %cd been engaged. To this delightful spot the late commander of the Virginia * She was the widow of John Parke Custis ; was about three months younger than Wsh ington; had two children, a son and a daughter; had a large landed estate, and 45,000 pounds sterling in money, one third of which she held in her own right. Chastellux speaks of her in 1780, as " about forty or forty-five, rather plump, but fresh, and of an agreea- ble face ;" and his translator adds, in a note, " I had the pleasure of pass- mg a day or two with Mrs. Washington, at the general's house in Vir- ginia, where she appeared to me to be one of the best women in the world, and beloved by all about her. She has no family by the general, but was surrounded by her grand-children, and by Mrs, Custis, her son's widovv." She was particularly distinguished through life for her domes- tick virtues; and survived the general only about eighteen months. His marriage took place the 6th of January, 1759 ; and it may not be un- interesting to give here, a proof of Washington's previous susceptibility to the tender pastsion— which is furnished in a^letter to a friend, in 1748. " My place of residence is at present at his lordship's, [Lord Fairfax's] where I might, were my heart disengaged, pass my time very pleasantly, as there is a very agreeable young lady in the same house, Col. George Fairfax's wife's sister. But that only adds fuel to the fire, as being often and una- voidably in company with her, revives my former passion for your low- iani beauty ; whereas, were I to live more retired from young women, I might in some measure alleviate my sorrows, by burying that chaste and troublesome passion in oblivion ; and I am very well assured that thi? will be the only antidote or remedy." 4 34 THE LIFE OF forces, released from the cares of a military life, and in pos- session of every thing that could make life agreeable, with- drew, and gave himself up to domestick pursuits. These were conducted with so much judgement, steadiness, and industry, as greatly to enlarge and improve his estate. To them he exclusively devoted himself for fifteen years, with the exception of serving in the house of burgesses of the colony of Virginia, and as a judge of the court of the county in which he resided.* In these stations he acquitted himself with reputation, and acquired no inconsiderable knowledge in the science of civil government. Puring this period, the clashing claims of Great Britain and her colonies were fre- quently brought before the Virginia legislature. In every instance he took a decided part in the opposition made to the principle of taxation claimed by the parent state. Had Great Britain been wise, the history of George Washington would have ended here, with the addition that he died in the sixty-eighth year of his age, having sustained through life the character of a good man, an excellent far- mer, a wise member of the legislature, and an impartial distributor of justice among his neighbours. Very differ- ent was his destiny. From being the commander of the forces of his native colony, Virginia, he was advanced to the command of the armies of thirteen United Colonies, and successfully led them through a revolutionary war of eight years duration, which issued in their establishment as thirteen United States. The origin of these great events must be looked for across the Atlantick. * He was first elected to the house of burgesses in 1758, and took his seat shortly after his marriage. An interesting incident occurred on this occasion, which is thus related by Mr. Wirt, in his life of Patrick Henry. " By a vote of the house, the Speaker, Mr. Robinson, was directed to re- turn their thanks to Mr. Washington, in behalf of the colony, for the distinguished military services which he had rendered to his country. As soon as Col. Washington took his seat in the assembly, the Speaker, in obedience to the order of the house, and following his own generous and grateful heart, discharged the duty with great dignity, but with such warmth of colouring and strength of expression, as entirely to confound the young hero. He rose to express his acknowledgements for the honour, but such was his trepidation and confusion, that he could not give distinct utterance to a syllable. He blushed, stammered, and trembled for a second, when the Speaker relieved him by a stroke of address, that would have done honour to Louis XIV, in his proudest and happiest momen-t. "Sit down, Mr. Washington," said he, with a conciliating smile, " your modesty is equal to your valour, and that is saying more for it than I could possibly express m any other language." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 3$ CHAP. II. Retrospect of the origin of the American revolutionary war— Of George Washington as member of Congress, in 1774 and 1775— As Commander in Chief of the armies of the United Colonies in 1775 and 1776, and his operations near Boston, in these years. 1774--1776. Soon after the peace of Paris, 1763, a Dew system for governing the British colonies, was adopted. One abridge- ment of their accustomed liberties followed another in such rapid succession, that in the short space of twelve years they had nothing left they could call their own. The Bri- tish parliament, in which they were unrepresented, and over which they had no controul, not only claimed, but exercised the power of taxing them at pleasure, and of binding them in all cases whatsoever. Claims so repugnant to the spirit of the British constitu- tion, and which made such invidious distinctions between the subjects of the same king, residing on different sides of the Atlantick, excited a serious alarm among the colonists. Detached as they were from each other by local residence, and unconnected in their several legislatures, a sense of common danger pointed out to them the wisdom and pro- priety of forming a new representative body, composed of delegates from each colony, to take care of their common interests. With very little previous concert, such a body was form- ed and met in Philadelphia, in Septemher, 1774, and entered into the serious consideration of the grievances under which their constituents laboured. To this congress Virginia de- puted seven of her most respectable citizens : Peyton Ran- dolph, Richard Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henry, Richard Bland, Benjamin Harrison, Edmund Pen- dleton ; men who would have done honour to any age or country. The same were appointed in like manner to at- tend a second congress on the 10th of May, in the following year. The historians of the American revolution will de- 36 THE LtFE OP tail with pleasure and pride, the proceedings of this ilhistri- ous assembly : the firmness and precision with which they stated their grievances, and petitioned their sovereign to redress them ; the eloquence with which they addressed the people of Great Britain, the inhabitants of Canada, and their own constituents; the judicious measures they adopted for cementing union at home, and procuring friends abroad. They will also inform the world of the unsuccessful termi- nation of all plans proposed for preserving the union of the empire, and that Great Britain, proceeding from one op- pression to another, threw the colonies out of her protection, made war upon them, and carried it on with a view to their subjugation. All these matters, together with the com- mencement of hostilities at Lexington, and the formation of an American army by the colony of Massachusetts, for de- fending themselves against a royal army in Boston, must be here passed over. Our business is only with George Washington. The fame he had acquired as commander of the Virginia forces, together with his well known military talents, procured for him the distinguishing appellation of the Soldier of America. These who, before the commence- ment of hostilities, looked forward to war as the probable consequence of the disputes between Great Britain and her colonies, anticipated his appointment to the supreme com- mand of the forces of his native country. As long as he continued a member of Congress, he was chairman of every committee appointed by that body to make arrangements for defence.* These duties in the Sen- ate were soon superseded by more active employment in the field. As soon as the Congress of the United Colonies had determined on making a common cause with Massachusetts, against which a British army had commenced hostilities, they appointed, by an unanimous vote, George Washington commander in chief of all the forces raised or to be raised for the defence of the colonies. His election was accom- * In the transactions of tliis body, Washington took an active part, and a deep and penetrating interest; and. according to Mr Wirt, hia character was at that time justly appreciated by Patrick Hcriiy. On returning from the fiirgt Congress, Mr. Henry was asked, "Whom he thought the greatest mfin in Congress'?" He rcphed, " U yon speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutlege, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator ; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgement. Colonel Washington is, unquestionably, the greatest man upon that floor." GfiORGB WASttiNGTON. 37 panied with no competition, and followed by no envy. The same general impulse on the publick mind, which led the colonies to agree in many other particulars, pointed to him as the most proper person for presiding over their armies * To the president of Congress announcing this appoint, ment, General Washington i-eplied in the following words i " Mr. President, " Though I am truly sensible of the high honour done me in this appointment, yet I feel great distress from a con- sciousness that my abilities and military experience may not be equal to the extensive and important trust. How- ever, as the Congress desire it, I will enter upon the momen- tous duty, and exert every power I possess in their service, and for support of the glorious cause. I beg they will ac* cept my most cordial thanks, for this distinguished testimony of their approbation. " But lest some unlucky event should happen unfavour- able to my reputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in the room, that I this day declare with the ut- most sincerity, I do not think myself equal to the command I am honoured with. " As to pay, Sir, I beg leave to assure the Congress that as no pecuniary consideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employment^ at the expense of my do- mestick ease and happiness, I do not wish to make any pro- fit from it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses ; those I doubt not they will discharge^ and that is all I desire." A special commission was madfe out for him, and at the same time a unanimous resolution was adopted by Con- gress, " that they would maintain and assist him, and adhere to him with their lives and fortunes, for the main- tenance and preservation of American Liberty." He immediately entered on the duties of his high station.']' * His appointment was first suggested by John Adams, of Massachu- setts, and the nomination was made by Thomas Johnson, of Maryland. The choice was by ballot, and unanimous. t Washmgton announced this appointment to his wife, in the only letter to her which has been preserved, dated Philadelphia, ISth June, 1775, as follows : " My Dearest— I am now set down to Write to you on a subject which fills me with inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggrava- ted and increased, when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give 4* 38 THE LIFE OF After passing a few days in New York, and arrangements with Gen, Schuyier, who commanded there, he proceeded to Cambridge, which was the head quarters of the American army. On his way thither, he received from private persons and pubiick bodies, the most flattering at- tention, and the strongest expressions of determination to support him. He received an address from the Provincial Congress of New York, in which, after expressing their ap- probation of his elevation to command, they say — " We have the fullest assurances, that whenever this important contest shall be decided by that fondest wish of each Ameri- can soul, an accommodation with our mother country, you will cheerfully resign the important deposite committed into your hands, and re-assume the character of our worthiest citizen." The General, after declaring his gratitude for* the respect shown him, added — " Be assured that every ex- ertion of my worthy colleagues and myself, will be extended to the re-establishment of peace and harmony between the you. It has been determined in Congress, that the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it. " You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavour in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happi- ness in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant pros- pect of finding abroad, if my stay was to be seven times seven years. But as it has lx;en a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good pur- pose. You might, and I suppose did perceive, from the tenour of my let- ters, that I was- apprehensive Itould not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to such censures as would have retiected dishonour upon myself, and given pain to my friends. This, I am sure, could not, and ought not, to be pleasing to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, therefore, confidently on that Provi- dence, which has heretofore preserved and been bountiful to me, not doubting but that I shall return safe to you in the fall. I shall feel no pain from the toil or the danger of the campaign ; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasmess 1 know you will feel from being left alone. I therefore beg that you will stuninon your whole fortitude, and pass your time as agreeably as possible. Nothing will give me so much sincere satisfaction as to hea^- this, and to hear it from your own pen. My ear- nest and ardent desire is, that you would pursue any plan that is most likely to produce eo-ntent, and a tolerable degree of tranquillity; as it nmst add greatly to my uneasy feelings to hear that you are dissatisfie<^ or complaining, at what I really could not avoid." GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 39 mother country and theso colonies. As to the fatal but necessary operations of war, when we assumed the soldier we did not lay aside the citizen, and we shall most sincere- ly rejoice with you in that happy hour, when the re- estab- lishment of American liberty, on the most firm and solid foundations, shall enable us to return to our private stations, in the bosom of a free, peaceful, and happy country." A committee from the Massachusetts Congress received him at Springfield, about one hundred miles from Boston, and conducted him to the army. He was soon after addressed by the Congress of that colony in the most affectionate manner. In his answer, he said — " Gentlemen, your kind congratulations on my appointment and arrival, demand my warm.est acknowledgements, and will ever be retained in grateful remembrance. In exchanging the enjoyments of domestick life for the duties of my present honourable, but arduous station, I only emulate the virtue and publick spirit of the whole province of Massachusetts, which, with a firmness and patriotism without example, has sacrificed all the comforts of social and political life in the support of the rights of mankind, and the welfare of our common country. My highest ambition is to be the happy instrument of vin* dicating these rights, and to see this devoted province again restored to peace, liberty, and safety." When Gen. Wash- ington arrived at Cambridge, he was received with the joy- ful acclamations of the American army. At the head of his troops, he published a declaration previously drawn up by Congress, in the nature of a manifesto, setting forth the reasons for taking up arms. In this, after enumerating various grievances of the colonies and vindicating them from a premeditated design of establishing independent states, it was added — "In our own native land, in detence of the freedom which is our birthright,, and which we ever enjoyed till the late violation of it ; for the protection of our property, acquired solely by the industiy of our Ibrefathers and ourselves, against violence actually offered ; we have taken up arms: We shall lay them down when hostilities shall cease on the part of the aggressors, and all danger of their being renewed shall be removed, and not before." W^hen Gen. Washington joined the American army, he found the British intrenched on Bunker's Hill, having also three floating batteries in Mystick River, and a twenty guu 40 THE LIFE OP ship below the ferry between Boston and Charlestown. They had also a battery on Copse's Hill, and were strongly fortified on the Neck. The Americans were intrenched at Winter hill, Prospect Hill, and Roxbury, communicating with one another by small posts over a distance of ten miles, nor could they be contracted without exposing the country to the incursions of the enemy. The army put under the command of Washington amount- ed to 14,500 men. Several circumstances concurred to render this force very inadequate to active operations. Military stores were deficient in camp, and the whole in the country was inconsiderable. On the 4th of August, all the stock of powder in the American camp, and in the publick magazines of the four New-England provinces, would have made very little more than nine rounds a man. In this desti- tute condition the army remained for a fortnight. To the Want of powder was added a very general want of bayonets, of clothes, of working tools, and a total want of engineers. Under all these embarrassments, the General observed, that " he had the materials of a good army ; that the men ■were able-bodied, active, zealous in the cause, and of unques- tionable courage." He immediately instituted such arrange- ments as were calculated to increase their capacity for service. The army was distributed into brigades and divi- sions, and on his recommendation, general staff officers were appointed. Economy, union, and system, were intro- duced into every department. As the troops came into ser- vice under the authority of distinct colonial governments, no uniformity existed among the regiments. In Massachu- setts the men had chosen their officers, and (rank excepted) were in other respects, frequently their equals. To form one uniform mass of these discordant materials, and to subject freemen animated with the spirit of liberty, and coK lected for its defence, to the control of military discipline, required patience, forbearance, and a spirit of accommoda- tion. This delicate and arduous duty was undertaken by Gen. Washington, and discharged with great address. — When he had made considerable progress in disciplining his army, the term for which enlistments had taken place was on the point of expiring. The troops from Connecticut and Rhode Island were only engaged to the first of December, 1775 ^ and no part of the army longer than to the first of GEORGE WASHINGTON. 41 January, 1776. The commander in chief made early and forcible representations to Congress on this subject, and urged them to adopt efficient measures for the formation of a new army. They deputed three of tlieir members, Mr. Lynch, Dr. Franklin, and Mr. Harrison, to repair to camp, and, in conjunction with him and the chief magistrates of the New England colonies, to confer on the most effectual mode of continuing, supporting, and regulating, a continen- tal army. By them it v/as resolved to enlist 23,722 men, avS iiar as practicable, from the troops before Boston, to serve till the last day of December, 1776, unless sooner discharged by Congress. In the execution of this resolve, Washington called upon all officers and soldiers to make their election for retiring or continuing. Several of the inferiour officers retired. Many of the men would not continue on any terms. Several refused, unless they were indulged with furloughs. Others, unless they were allowed to choose their officers. So many impediments obstructed the recruiting service, that it required great address to obviate them. Washington made forcible appeals in general orders, to the pride and patriotism of both officers and men. He promised every indulgence compatible with safety, and every comfort that the state of the country autliorized. In general orders of the 20th of October, he observed — " The times, and the importance of the great cause we are engaged in, allow no room for hesitation and delay. When life, liberty, and prop- erty, are at stake ; when our country is in danger cf being a melancholy scene of bloodshed and desolation ; when our towns are laid in ashes, innocent women and children driven from their peaceful habitations, exposed to the rigours of an inclement season, to depend perhaps on the hand of charity for support ; when calamities like these are staring us in the face, and a brutal savage enemy tlireatens us and every thing vv'e hold dear with destruction from foreign troops, it little becomes the character of a soldier to shrir.k from danger, and condition for new terms. It is the General's intention to indulge both officers and soldiers who compose the new army with furloughs for a reasonable time ; but this must be done in such a manner as not to injure the service, or weaken the army too much at once." In the instructions given to the recruiting officers, the General enjoined upon them " not to enlist any person suspected of 42 THE LIFE OF being unfriendly to the liberties of America, or any aban- doned vagabond, to whom all causes and countries are equal and alike indifferent." Though great exertions had been made to procure re- cruits, yet the regiments were not filled. Several causes operated in producing this disinclination to the service. The sufferings of the army had been great. Fuel was very scarce. Clothes, and even provisions, had not been furnish- ed them in sufficient quantities. The small-pox deterred many from entering ; but the principal reason was a dislike to a military life. Much also of that enthusiasm which brought numbers to the field, on the commencement of hos- tilities, had abated. The army of 1775 was wasting away by the expiration of the terms of service, and recruits for the new, entered slowly. The regiments which were enti- tled to their discharge on the 1st of December, were with great difficulty persuaded to stay ten days, when reinforce- ments of militia were expected to supply their place. From the eagerness of the old troops to go home, and the slow- ness of the new to enter the service, it was difficult to keep up the blockade. On the last day of the year, when the first Avere entirely disbanded, the last only amounted to 9650 men, and many of these were absent on furlough. At this time the royal army in Boston was about 8000. To assist the recruiting service, the General recommended to Congress to try the effects of a bounty, but this was not agreed to till late in January, 1776. In that and the fol- lowing month the army was considerably increased. The blockade of Boston was all this time kept up, and the enemy confined to the city, but this was far short of what the American people expected. Common fame repre- sented the troops under the command of Washington to be nearly treble the royal army. This ample force was sup- posed to be furnished with every thing necessary for the most active operations. Their real numbers and deficient equipments were, for obvious reasons, carefully concealed. The ardour and impatience of the publick had long since counted on the expulsion of the British from Boston. — Washington was equally ardent, but better informed and' more prudent. He well knew the advantages that would result to the cause in which he was engaged from some bril- liant stroke, nor was he insensible to insinuations by some GEORGE WASHINGTON. 43 that he was devoid of energy, and by others that he wished to prolong his own importance by continuing the war. He bore these murmurs with patience ; but nevertheless, had his eyes directed to Boston, and wished for an opening to commence offensive operations. The propriety of this mea- sure was submitted to the consideration of repeated councils of war, who uniformly declared against it. A hope was nevertheless indulged that ice in the course of the winter, would be favourable to an assault. That this opportunity might not be lost, measures were adopted for procuring large reinforcements of militia to serve till the first of March, 1776. From 4 to 5000 men were accordingly procured. Contrary to what is usual, the waters about Boston contin- ued open till the middle of February. Councils of war were hitherto nearly unanimous against an assault. General Washington was less opposed to it than some others, but the want of ammunition for the artillery, together with the great probability of failure, induced him to decline the at- tempt. In lieu of it he formed a bold resolution to take a new position that would either compel the British General to come to an action, or to evacuate Boston. The Ameri- can army was now stronger than ever. Recruiting for the two last months had been unusually successful. The regu- lar army exceeded 14000 men, and the militia were about 6000. Washington, thus reinforced, determined to fortify the heights of Dorchester, from which he could annoy the ships in the harbour, and the army in the town. To favour the execution of this plan, the town and lines of the enemy were bombarded on the 2d, 3d, and 4th of March. On the night of the 4th, Gen. Thomas, with a considerable detach- ment, took possession of the heights of Dorchester. By great exertions this party in the course of the night, nearly covered themselves from the shot of the enemy. The ap- pearance of their works caused no little surprise in the British camp. These were every hour advancins^ so as to afford additional security to the Americans posted behind them. The Admiral informed General Howe, that if the Americans kept possession of these heights, he would not be able to keep one of the British ships in the harbour. The enemy were now brought to the alternative which Washington wished for. They must either risk an action without their lines, or abandon the place. Gen. Howe pre- 44 THE LIFE OP ferred the former, and ordered 3000 men on this service* These were embarked, and fell down to the castle with the intention of proceeding up the river to the attack, but were dispersed by a tremendous storm. Before they could be in readiness to proceed, the American works were advanced to such a slate of security as to discourage any attempt against them. Washi?:!gton expecting an immediate assault on the new raised works at Dorchester, and judging that the best troops of tiie enemy would be ordered on that service, had prepared to attack the town of Boston at the same time — 4000 men were ready for embarkation at the mouth of Cambridge river to proceed on this business, as soon as it was known that the British had gone out in force to their intended at- tack. It was now resolved by the British to evacuate Bos- ton as soon as possible. In a few days after, a flag came out of Boston with a paper signed by four select men, in- forming, " that they had applied to Gen. Robertson, who, on an application to Gen. Hou'e, was authorized to assure them, that he had no intention of burning the town, unless the troops under his command were molested during their embarkation, or at their departure, by the armed force with, out." When this paper was presented to Gen. Washington, he replied, "that as it was an unauthenticated paper, and without an address, and not obligatory on Gen. Howe, he could take no notice of it ;" but at the same time "intimate his good wishes for the security of the town." Washington made arrangements for the security of his army, but did not advance his works nor embarrass the British army in their proposed evacuation. He wished to save Boston, and to gain time for the fortification of New York, to which place he supposed the evacuating army was destined. Under this impression, he detached a considera- ble part of his army to tliat place, and with the remainder took possession of Boston, as soon as the British troops had completed their embarkation. On entering the town, Wash- ington was received with marks of approbation more flatter- ing than the pomps of a triumph. The inhabitants, released from the severities of a garrison life, and from the various indignities to which they were subjected, hailed him as their delivcircr. Reciprocal con- gratulations between tiiose who had been coniined within tSEORGE WASHINGTON. 4$ the British lines, and those who were excluded from entering them, were exchanged with an ardour which cannot be de- scribed. Gen. Washington was honoured by Congress with a vote of thanks. They also ordered a medal to be struck, with suitable devices to perpetuate the remembrance of the great event. The Massachusett's Council and House of Representatives complimented him in a joint address, in which they expressed their good wishes in the following words — " May you still go on approved by heaven, revered hy all good men, and dreaded by those tyrants who claim their fellow men as their property." His answer was mod- est and proper. CHAP. HI. CAMPAIGN OP 1776. Of the operations of General Washington in New York and New Jersey, The battle on Long Island. The Retreat from York Island and through Jersey. The battles of Trenton and Princeton. 1776. The evacuation of Boston varied the scene, but did not lessen the labours of Washington. Henceforward he had a much more formidable enemy to contend with.* The royal army in Boston was, on a small scale, calculated to awe the inhabitants of Massachusetts into obedience, but the campaign of 1776 was opened in New York with a * Besides the preparations for defence against the British army, then concentrating its forces at New York, he had to guard agahist the nu- merous disaffected persons and tories, on Long Island, Staten Island, and in the city of New York, who were clandestinely plgtting against the liberties of their country. By the persevering representations of Washington, Congress finally adopted measures for the apprehension of this class of enemies. Many tories were apprehended in New York and on Long Island, some were imprisoned, others disarmed. A deep plot, originating with Governor Tryon, (who continued on board a vessel at the Hook, and had his emissaries abroad in every direction,) was defeated by a timely and fortunate discovery. His 'agents were found enlisting men in the American camp, and enticing them with rewards. The infec- tion spread to a considerable extent, and even reached the General's guard, some of whom enlisted. A soldier of the guard was proved guilty by a court martial, and executed. It was a part of the plot to seize Gene- ral Washington and convey him to the enemy." 5 4Q THE LIFE OF force far exceeding any thing hitherto seen in America, Including the navy and army, it amounted to 55,000 men, and was calculated on the idea of reducing the whole United Colonies. The operations contemplated could be best car- ried on from the nearly central province of New York, and the army could be supplied with provisions from the adja- cent islands, and easily defended by the British navy. For these reasons, the evacuation of Boston, and the concentra- tion of the royal forces at New York, had been for some time resolved upon in England. The reasons that induced the British to gain possession of New York, weighed with Washington to prevent or delay it. He had therefore detached largely from his army be- fore Boston, and sent Gen. Lee to take the command, and after providing for the security of Boston, proceeded soon after the evacuation thereof with the main army to New York, and made every preparation in his power for its de- fence. Considerable time was allowed for this purpose ; for Gen. Howe, instead of pushing directly for New York, retired to Halifax with the forces withdrawn from Boston. He there waited for the promised reinforcements from En- gland ; but, impatient of delay, sailed without them for New York, and took possession of Staten Island in the latter end of June. He was soon followed by his brother. Admiral Howe, and their whole force was assembled about the middle of July, and in apparent readiness for opening the campaign. Before hostilities were commenced, the British General and Admiral, in their quality of civil commissioners for effecting a re-union between Great Britain and the Colonies, made an attempt at negotiation. To introduce this business, they sent a flag ashore with a letter addressed to George Wash- ington, Esq. This he refused to receive, as not being ad- dressed to him with the title due to his rank, and at the same time wrote to Congress, " That he would not on any occasion, sacrifice essentials to punctilio, but in this in- stance, deemed it a duty to his country to insist on that respect which, in any other than a publick view, he would willingly have waived." Some time after, Adjutant General Patterson was sent by Gen. Howe with a letter addressed to George Washington, (fee .&c. &c. On an interview, the Adjutant General, after expressing his high esteem for the person and character of the American General, and declar- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 4T ing that it was not intended to derogate from the respect due to his rank, expressed his hopes, that the et ceteras would remove the impediments to their correspondence. Gen. Washington replied, " That a letter directed to any person in a publick character, should have some description of it, otherwise it would appear a mere private letter ; that it was true the et ceteras implied every thing, but they also implied any thing, and that he should therefore decline the receiving any letter directed to him as a private person, when it related to his publick station. A long conference ensued, in which the Adjutant General observed that " the Commissioners were armed with great powers, and would be very happy in effecting an accommodation." He received for answer, *' that from what appeared, their powers were only to grant pardons ; that they who had committed no fault wanted no- pardon." On the arrival of Gen. Howe at Staten Island, the Amer- ican army did not exceed 10,000 men, but by sundry rein- forcements, before the end of August, they amounted to 27,000. Of these a great part were militia, and one fourth of the whole was sick. The diseases incident to new troops prevailed extensively, and were aggravated by a great defi- ciency in tents. These troops were so judiciously distrib- uted on York Island, Long Island, Governour's Island, Paulus Hook, and on the Sound towards New Rochelle, East and West Chester, that the enemy were very cautious in determi- ning when or where to commence offensive operations. Every probable point of debarkation was watched, and guarded with a force sufficient to embarrass, though very insufficient to prevent, a landing. From the arrival of the British army at Staten Island, the Americans were in daily expectation of being attacked. General Washington was therefore strenuous in preparing his troops for action. He tried every expedient to kindle in their breasts the love of their country, and a high tone of indignation against its invaders. In general orders he addressed tliem as follows. •* The time is now near at hand, which must probably deter- mine whether Americans are to be freemen or slaves ; whether they are to have any property they can call their own ; whether their houses and farms are to be pillaged and destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretched- ness, from which no human efforts will deliver them. The 48 THE LIFE OF fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our cruel and unrelent- ing enemy, leaves us only the choice of a brave resistance, or the most abject submission. We have therefore to resolve to conquer or to die. Our own, our country's honour, calls upon us for a vigorous and manly exertion ; and if we now shamefully fail, we shall become infamous to the whole world. Let us then rely on the goodness of our cause, and the aid of the Supreme Being, in whose hands victory is, to animate and encourage us to great and noble actions. The eyes of all our countrymen are now upon us, and we shall have their blessings and praises, if happily we are the instruments of saving them from the tyranny meditated against them Let us therefore animate and encourage each other, and show the whole world that a freeman contending for liberty on his own ground, is superiour to any slavish mercenary on earth."* When the whole reinforcements of the enemy had arriv- ed. Gen. Washington, in expectation of an immediate at- tack, again addressed his army, and called on them to re- member that " liberty, property, life, and honour, were all at stake ; that upon their courage and conduct, rested the hopes of their bleeding, and insulted country ; that their wives, children, and parents, expected safety from them, only ; and that they had every reason to believe that Heaven would crown with success so just a cause." He farther added — "The enemy will endeavour to intimidate by show and appearance, but remember they have been repulsed on various occasions by a few brave Americans. Their cause is bad — their men are conscious of it, and if opposed with firmness and coolness on their first onset, with our advantage of works, and knowledge of the ground, the victory is most * The Declaration of Independence had been adopted by Congress, the 4th of July previous ; and these general orders conformed in letter and spirit with that bold and patriotick declaration, which Washington had approved and advised. " I am very glad to find," said he, in a letter to his brother, " that the Virginia Convention have passed so noble a vote, [recommending to Congress to declare the United Colonies free and in- dependent Stales,] and with so much unanimity. Things have come to such a pass now, as to convince us, that we have nothing more to expect from the justice of Great Britain." When the Declaration of Independ- ence was received by Gen. Washington, he paraded his army; the docn- ment was read aloud in the hearing of all, and received with bursts of applause. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 49^ assuredly ours. Every good soldier will be silent and atten- tive — wait for orders — and reserve his fire until he is sure of doing execution : of this the officers are to be particularly careful." He then gave the most explicit orders that any soldier who should attempt to conceal himself, or retreat without orders, should instantly be shot down, as an example of the punishment of cowardice, and desired every officer to be particularly attentive to the conduct of his men, and report those who should distinguish themselves by brave and noble actions. These he solemnly promised to notice and reward. On the 22d of August, the greatest part of the British troops landed on Long Island. Washington immediately made a farther effort to arouse his troops to deeds of valour^ " The enemy, said he, have landed, and the hour is fast ap- proaching on which the honour and success of this army, and the safety of our bleeding country, depends. Remember, officers and soldiers, that you are freemen, fighting for the blessings of Liberty ; that slavery will be your portion and that of your posterity, if you do not acquit yourselves like men. Remember how your courage has been despised and traduced by your cruel invaders, though they have found by dear experience at Boston, Charlestown, and other places, what a h\v brave men, contending in their own land, and in the best of causes, can do against hirelings and mercenaries. Be cool but determined. Do not fire at a distance, but wait for orders from your officers." He repeated his injunctions, " to shoot down any person who should misbehave in action," and his hope " that none so infamous would be found, but that, on the contrary, each for himself resolving to conquer or die, and trusting to the smiles of heaven on so just a cause, would behave with bravery and resolution." His assurance of rewards to those who should distinguish them- selves, were repeated ; and he declared his confidence, that if the army would but emulate and imitate their brave coun- trymen in other parts of America, they would, by a glo- rious victory^ save their country, and acquire to themselves immortal honour." On the 5th day after their landing, the British attacked the Americans on Long Island, commanded by Gen. Sulli- van. The variety of ground and the different parties em- ployed in different places, both in the attack and defence, 5* 50 THE IIFE OP occasioned a succession of small engagements, pursuits, and slaughter, which lasted for many hours. The Americans were defeated in all directions. The circumstances which eminently contributed to this, were the superiour discipline of the assailants, and the want of early intelligence of their movements. There was not a single corps of cavalry in the American army. The trans- mission of intelligence was of course always slow, and often impracticable. From the want of it, some of their detach- ments, while retreating before one portion of the enemy^ were advancing towards another, of whose movements they were ignorant. In the height of the engagen^nt Washington passed over to Long Island, and with infinite regret saw the slaughter of his best troops, but had not the power to prevent it ; for had he drawn his whole force to their support, he must have risked every thing on a single engagement. He adopted the wiser plan of evacuating the island, with all the forces he could bring off. In superintending this necessary, but difficult and dangerous movement, and the events of the. pre- ceding day, Washington was indefatigable. For forty-eight hours he never closed his eyes, and was almost constantly on horseback. In less than thirteen hours, the field artillery, tents, baggage, and about 9000 men, were conveyed from Long Island to the city of New York, over East River, and without the knowledge of the British, though not 600 yards distant. The darkness of the night and a heavy fog in the morning, together with a fair wind after midnight, favoured this retreat. It was completed without interruption some time after the dawning of the day. The unsuccessful termination of the late action, led to consequences more seriously alarming to the Americans,- than the loss of their men. Hitherto they had had such confidence in themselves, as engaged in the cause of libert]/; and their country, that it outweighed all their apprehensions from the exact discipline of the British troops ; but now finding that many of them had been encircled in inextrica- ble difficulties from the superiour military skill of their ad- versaries, they went to the opposite extreme, and began to think but very indiflferently of themselves and their leaders^ when opposed to disciplined troops. As often as they saw the enemy approaching, they suspected a military manoeu^ GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 51 vre, from which they supposed nothing could save them but immediate flight. Apprehensions of this kind might natu.< rally be expected from citizen soldiers, lately taken from agricultural pursuits, who e.vpected to lay aside the military character at the end of the current year. Washington, tremblingly alive to tiie state of his army, wrote to Congress on the sixth day after the defeat on Long Island, as follows : " Our situation is truly distressing. The check our detach- ment lately sustained has dispirited too great a proportion of our troops, and filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly opposition, in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and impatient to re-- turn. Great numbers of them have gone off; in some in« stances, almost by whole regiments, in many by half ones, and by companies at a time. This circumstance of itself, independent of others, when fronted by a well appointed enemy, superiour in number to our whole collected force, would be sufficiently disagreeable ; but when it is added,- that their example has infected another part of the army ; that their want of discipline and refusal of almost every kind of restraint and government, have rendered a like con- duct but too common in the whole, and have produced an entire disregard of that order and subordination which is necessary for an army, our condition is still more alarming ;- and with the deepest concern I am obliged to confess my want of confidence in the generality of the troops. All these circumstances fully confirm the opinion I ever enter- tained, and which I more than once in my letters took the liberty of mentioning to Congress, that no dependence could be put in a militia,* or other troops than those enlisted and embodied for a longer period than our regulations have hitherto prescribed. I am fully convinced that our liber- ties must of necessity be greatly hazarded, if not entirely lost, if their defence be left to any but a permanent army. " Nor would the expense incident to the support of such a body of troops as would be competent to every exigency, * Though thus unused fo the discipline and horrours of war, the A'me- rlcan militia yielded to the first shock, they soon began to retrieve their character, and to acquire the approbabation and confidence of the Com- mander-in- Chief. They subsequently, during the seven years' struggle^ exhibited proofs of courage and fidelity unsurpassed, amidst trials an* sufferings without a parallel, in the history of nations. 5Z THE tIP£ OP far exceed that which is incurred by calling in daily suc- cours and new enlistments, which when effected, are not attended with any good consequences. Men who have been free, and subject to no controul, cannot be reduced to order in an instant; and the privileges and exemptions they claim, and will have, influence the conduct of others in such a manner, that the aid derived from them is nearly counter- balanced by the disorder, irregularity, and confusion they occasion." In fourteen days after this serious remonstrance. Congress resolved to raise eighty-eight battalions to serve during the war. Under these circumstances, to wear away the cam- paign with as little loss as possible, so as to gain time tO' raise a permanent army against the next year, was to the Americans an object of the greatest importance. 7 Gen. Washington, after much deliberation, determined on a war of posts. Recent events confirmed him in the policy of defending his country by retreating, when he could' no longer stand his ground without risking his army. He well knew that by adopting it he would subject himself to the imputation of wanting energy and decision ; but with him the love of country was paramount to all other consi- derations. . In conformity to these principles, the evacuation of New- York was about tins time resolved upon, whensoever it could no longer be maintained without risking the arm5\ Arrangements were accordingly made for a temporary de- fence, and an ultimate retreat when necessity required. The British, now in possession of Long Island, could at pleasure pass over to York Island or the main. Washing. ton was apprehensive that they would land above him, cut off his retreat, and force him to a general action on York Island. He therefore moved his publick stores to Dobb's ferry, and stationed 12,000 men at the northern end of York Island. With the remainder he kept up the semblance of defending New York, though he had determined to aban- don it, rather than risk his army for its preservation. While Washington was making arrangements to save his troops and stores by evacuating and retreating, the British commander was prosecuting his favourite scheme of forcing the Americans to a general action, or breaking the commu- nication between their posts. With this view he landed' GEORGE WASKINGTOW. 53 about 4000 men at Kipp's Bay, three miles above New York, under cover of five men of war. Works had been thrown up at this place, which were capable of being de- fended for some time, and troops were stationed in them for that purpose ; but they fled with precipitation without wait- ing for the approach of the enemy. Two brigades were put in motion to support them. Gen. Washington rode to the scene of action, and to his great mortification met the who^e party retreating. While he was exerting himself to rally them, on the appearance of a small corps of the ene- my, they again broke and ran off" in disorder. Such das- tardly conduct raised a tempest in the usually tranquil mind of Gen. Washington. Having embarked in the American cause from the purest principles, he viewed with infinite concern this shameful behaviour, as threatening ruin to his country. He recollected the many declarations of Congress, of the army, and of the inhabitants, preferring liberty to life, and death to dishonour, and contrasted them with their present scandalous flight. His soul was harrowed up with apprehensions that his country would be conquered, her ar- my disgraced, and her liberties destroyed. He anticipated^, in imagination, that the Americans would appear to poste- rity in the light of high sounding boasters, who blustered when danger was at a distance, but shrunk at the shadow of opposition. Extensive confiscations, and numerous at- tainders, presented themselves in full view to his agitated mind. He saw in imagination new formed states, with the means of defence in their hands, and the glorious prospects of liberty before them, levelled to the dust ; and such con- stitutions imposed on them, as were likely to crush the vigour of the human mind ; while the unsuccessful issue of the pre- sent struggle would, for ages to come, deter posterity from the bold design of asserting their rights. Impressed with these ideas, he hazarded his person for some considerable time in the rear of his own men, and in front of the enemy, with his horse's head towards the latter, as if in expectation that, by an honourable death, he might escape the infamy he dreaded from the dastardly conduct of troops on whom he could place no dependence. His aids, and the confiden- tial friends around his person, by indirect violence, compel- led him to retire. In consequence of their address and im- portunity, a life was saved for public service, which, other- 54 THE LIFE OF wise, from a sense of honour and a gust of passion, seemed to be devoted to almost certain destruction. The shameful events of this day, hastened the evacuation of New York. This was effected with very little loss of men, but all the heavy artillery and a large portion of the baggage, provisions, military stores, and particularly the tents, were unavoidably left behind. The loss of the last mentioned article was severely felt in that season, when cold weather was rapidly approaching. The British having got possession of the city of New York, advanced in front of it, and stretched their encamp- ments across York Island; while their shipping defended their flanks. Washington had made his strongest post at Kingsbridge, as that preserved his communication with the country. In front of this, and near to the British, he had a strong detachment posted in an intrenched camp. This position of the two armies was particularly agreeable to him ; for he wished to accustom his raw troops to face their enemies, hoping that by frequent skirmishes they would grow so familiar with the dangers incident to war, as to fear them less. Opportunities of making the experiment soon occurred. On the day after the retreat from New York, a skirmish took place between an advanced detachment of the British army and some American troops, commanded by Col. Knowlton, of Connecticut, and Major Leitch, of Vir- ginia. Both these officers fell, bravely fighting at the head of their troops. The Captains with their men kept the ground, and fairly beat their adversaries from the field. This was the first advantage the army under the command of Washington had gained in the campaign. Its influence on the army was great. To increase its effects, the parole the next day was " Leitch," and the General gave public thanks to the troops engaged therein. He contrasted their conduct with the late shameful flight of the troops from the works on Kipp's Bay, and observed, " That the result proved what might be done, where officers and men exerted them- selves;" and again called on all "so to act as not to dis- grace the noble cause in which they were engaged." General Howe continued to prosecute his scheme for cut- ting off" Washington's communication with the eastern states, and enclosing him so as to compel a general engage- ment. With this view the royal army landed on Frog's GEORGE WASHINGTON. 55 Neck, in Westchester county, and soon after advanced to New Rochelle, and made sundry successive movements, all calculated to effect this purpose. A few skirmishes took place, but a general action wa3 carefully avoided by Wask- ington, except in one case, in which he had such a manifest advantage from his position on hills near the White Plains, that Gen. Howe declined it. The project of getting in the rear of the American army was in like manner frustrated by frequent and judicious changes of its position. Gen. Howe failing in his first design, adopted a new plan of ope- rations. His efforts were henceforward directed to an in- vasion of New Jersey. Washington, penetrating his de- signs, crossed the North River. He wrote to William Liv- ingston,* governour of' New Jersey, urging him to put the militia of that State in the best state of preparation to de- fend their country, and also recommending the removal of stock and provisions from the sea coast. f About this time Fort Washington was taken by storm, and the garrison, consisting of more than 2009 men, with their commander, Col. Magaw, surrendered prisoners of war. This was the only post held by the Americans on York Island ; and was an exception to the general plan of evacuating and retreat- ing. Hopes had been indulged that it might be defended, and, in conjunction with Fort Lee, on tho opposite Jersey shore, made useful in embarrassing the passage of British *" This gentleman (says the translator of Chastellux) was so active and useful in the revolution, that he was long the marked object of tory vengeance. He was obliged, for many months, to shift his quarters every day, and under the necessity of sleeping every night in a different place; but nothing could abate his zeal; he never quitted his government, and was indefatigable in his exertions to animate the people." He was known in New Jersey by the name of " Doctor Fhnt," from an expres- sion in his inaugural address, that we should " set our faces like ajlint against that dissoluteness of manners and political corruption which will ever be the reproach of any people." tit was no easy task at that time to recruit the defensive forces of New Jersey. A letter to Gov. Livingston from one of his subordinate officers, dated June 30, 1776, says, " There are a number of tenants that say, if they are taken away at this season of the vear, they may as well knock their families on the head, for that they will be ruined. At a mus- ter sometime past, in order to recruit men, one half of two companies came with clubs ; Colonel Johnson was knocked down by thern, and was afterwards obliged to retreat ; the same day one of the captains was much beat by them." With the aid of Gen. Mercer, however, who was detached from New York for the purpose, Gov. Livingston soon suc- ceeded in embodying a large portion of the militia of New Jersey, organ- izing a flying camp, &c. 56 THE LIFE OF vessels up and down the North River. This post having fallen, orders for the evacuation of Fort Lee were immedi- ately given ; but before the stores could be removed, Lord Corn wallis crossed the North River with 6000 men. Wash- ington, retreating before him, took post along the Hacken- sack. His situation there was nearly similar to that which he had abandoned ; for he was liable to be enclosed between the Hackensack and the Passaic rivers. He therefore, on the approach of the enemy, passed over to Newark. He stood his ground there for some days, as if determined on resistance ; but being incapable of any effectual opposition, retreated to Brunswick, on the day Lord Cornwallis entered Newark. At Brunswick, Washington kept his troops in motion, and even advanced a small detachment, as if intend- ing to engage the enemy. Nor did he quit this position till their advanced guards were in sight. Lord Stirling was left at Princeton with 1200 men, to watch the British; and Washington proceeded with the residue to Trenton. There he meant to make a stand. Orders were previously given to collect and guard all the boats for 70 miles on the Dela- ware. The baggage and stores were also passed over. These being secured, Washington detached 1200 men to Princeton, to keep up the appearance of opposition, and soon followed with about 2000 militiamen who had recently joined him. Before he reached Princeton, intelligence was received that Lord Cornwallis, strongly reinforced, was advancing from Brunswick in different directions, with the apparent design of getting in his rear. An immediate retreat over the Del- aware became necessary. This was effected on the 8th of December. Washington secured all his boats on the Penn- sylvania side ; broke down the bridges on roads leading to the opposite shores, and posted his troops at the different fording places. So keen was the pursuit, that as the rear guard of the retreating army embarked, the van of the ene- my came in sight. The British having driven the Ameri- can army out of Jersey, posted themselves up and down the Delaware, and small parties passed and re-passed from one to the other, without any interruption. They made some attempts to get boats, but failed. They also repaired some of the bridges that had been recently destroyed, and pushed forward a strong detachment to Bordentown. This was in- tended to increase their chances for crossing, and to embar- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 5T rass Washington, who could not tell from which of their se* veral positions they would make the attempt. Gen. Putnam was in the mean time sent on to superintend the erection of lines of defence from the Schuylkill to the Delaware, for the security of Philadelphia. Small redoubts were hastily thrown up to guard the fording places ; and Germantown was fixed upon as a place of rendezvous, in case the British should cross and drive the Americans from their extended encampments on the Delaware. This retreat through the Jerseys was attended with almost every circumstance that could occasion embarrassment or depression. Washington was pressed with difficulties on all sides. In casting his eyes around, he could not promise himself adequate support from any quarter. His gloomy prospects were not bright, ened by any expectations, on the fulfilment of which he could depend. Distrusting, but not despairing, he asked Col. Reed — " Should we retreat to the back parts of Penn- sylvania, will the Pennsylvanians support us ]" The Colonel answered — " If the lower counties are subdued and give up, the back counties will do the same." Washington nobly replied — " We must retire to Augusta county, in Virginia. Numbers will be obliged to repair to us for safety, and we must try what we can do, in carrying on a predatory war ; and if overpowered, we must cross the Alleghany moun- tains." Gen. Washington had no cavalry but a small corps of badly mounted Connecticut militia, and was almost equal- ly destitute of artillery, while conducting this retreat. It commenced in a few days after the reduction of Fort Wash- ington, in which the flower of the American army were made prisoners of war. A great part of the retreating troops consisted of those who had garrisoned Fort Lee. These had been compelled to abandon their post so suddenly, that they left behind them their tents, blankets, and cookjng utensils. In this situation they retreated, badly arnied, worse clad, and in many instances barefooted, in the cold months of November and December, through a desponding country, more disposed to seek safety by submission than resistance. Under all these disadvantages, they performed a march of about ninety miles, and had the address to pro- long it to a space of nineteen days, that as much time as possible might be gained for expected reinforcements to ar- rive. As they retreated through the country, scarcely one 6 58 THE LIFE OF of the inhabitants joined them ; while numbers daily flocked to the British army, and took the benefit of a royal procla- mation issued at this critical time, for pardoning all who, within sixty days, would return to the condition of British subjects.* The small force which began this retreat was daily les- sening, by the expiration of the term of service for which they were engaged. This terminated in November with many, and in December with nearly two thirds of the resi- due. No persuasions were availing to induce their continu- ance. They abandoned their General, when the advancing enemy was nearly in sight. The Pennsylvania militia was engaged to the first day of January, but they deserted in such numbers that it became necessary to place guards at the ferries to stop them. Two regiments had been ordered from Ticonderoga to join Gen. Washington, but their term of service expired on the first of December. They refused to re-enlist, and went off, to a man. Gen. Lee, who com- manded the eastern troops, was repeatedly ordered by Wash- ington to cross the North River, and join the retreating ar- my ; but these orders were not obeyed. While at a distance both from his troops and the enemy, he was surprised and teken prisoner by the British. This begat suspicions, that, despairing of the success of the Americans, he had chosen to abandon their service. Though these apprehensions were without foundation, they produced the same mischievous effects on the minds of the people as if they were realities. About the same time Congress thought it expedient to leave Philadelphia and retire to Baltimore. Under all these trying circumstances, Washington was undismayed. He did not despair of the public safet)'-. With unconquerable firmness and the most perfect self-pos- session, he was always the same, and constantly showed * "This was the most gloomy period of the war. The barefooted and ragged American army retreating before the well-appointed troops of the enemy, impaired the confidence of the people, not less in the ability of Washington than in their own resources. The defenceless legislature [of New Jersey] with their governour at their head, wandered from Princeton to Burlington, from Burlington to Pittstown, from Pittstown to Hadden- field, and there, finally, at the utmost verge of the state, dissolved them- selves on the 2d of December, leaving each member to look to his own safety, at a moment when the efforts of legislators could be of no avail, and when there was no place where they could safely hold their ses- sions."— I/i/e of Wm. Livingston. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 59 himself to his army with a serene and undisturbed counte- nance. Nothing was omitted by him that could embarrass the enemy, or animate his army and country. He forcibly pointed out to Congress the defective constitution of their army, without cavalry, without artillery and engineers ; and enlarged upon the impolicy of short enlistments, and placing confidence in militia suddenly called out and fre- quently changed. He urged these matters with great warmth ^ but to prevent offence, added — " A character to lose — an estate to forfeit — the inestimable blessing of liberty at stake — and a life devoted, must be my excuse." He also hinted at the propriety of enlarging his powers so as to en- able him to act in cases of urgency, without application to Congress ; but apologized for this liberty by declaring, " that he felt no lust of power, and wished with the greatest fervency for an opportunity of turning the sword into a ploughshare :" but added — " his feelings as an officer and a man had been such as to force him to say, that no person ever had a greater choice of difficulties to contend with than himself." In this very dangerous crisis, Washington made every exertion to procure reinforcements to supply the place of those who were daily leaving him. He sent Generals Mif- flin and Armstrong to rouse the citizens of Pennsylvania. Col. Reed was despatched to Governor Livingston, to urge on him the necessity of calling out the Jersey militia. These exertions were in a great measure unavailing, except in and near the city of Philadelphia. Fifteen hundred of the citizens of that metropolis associated together, and marched to the aid of Washington. Though most of these were accustomed to the habits of a city life, they slept in tents, barns, and sometimes in the open air, during the cold months of December and January. On the capture of Gen. Lee, the command of his army devolved on Gen. Sullivan, who, in obedience to the orders formerly given, joined Gen. Washington. About the same time an addition was made to his force by the arrival of a part of the northern army. The Americans now amounted to about 7000 men, though during the retreat through the Jerseys, they were seldom equal to half that number. The two armies were separated from each other by the river Delaware. The British, in the security of conquest, can. 60 THiJ llfE OF toned their troops in Burlington, Bordentown, Trenton, and other towns of New Jersey, in daily expectation of being enabled to cross into Pennsylvania by means of ice, which is generally formed about that time. On receiving infor- mation of their numbers and different cantonments, Wash- ington observed — " Now is the time to clip their wings, when they are so spread." Yielding to his native spirit of enterprise which had hitherto been repressed, he formed the bold design of re-crossing the Delaware, and attacking the British posts on its eastern banks. In the evening of Christmas day he made arrangements for passing over in three divisions ; at M'Konkey's ferry, at Trenton, and at or near Bordentown. The troops which were to have crossed at the two last places exerted them- selves to get over, but failed from the quantity of ice which obstructed their passage. The main body, about 2i00 men, began to cross very early in the evening ; but were so re- tarded by ice that it was nearly four o'clock in the morning before they were in a condition to take up their line of march on the Jersey side. They were formed in two divi- sion^. One was ordered to proceed on the lower or river road ; the other on the upper or Pennington road. These having nearly the same distance to march, were ordered immediately on forcing the out guards, to push directly into Trenton, that they might charge the enemy before they had time to form. Though they marched different roads, yet they arrived within three minutes of each other. The out guards of the Hessian troops at Trenton soon fell back ; but kept up a constant retreating fire. Their main body being hard pressed by the Americans, who had already got possession of half their artillery, attempted to file off by a road leading towards Princeton, but were checked by a body of troops thrown in their way. Finding they were sur- rounded, they laid down their arms. The number which submitted was 23 officers and 886 men. Between 30 and 40 of the Hessians were killed and wounded. Col. Rahl was among the former, and seven of his officers among the latter. Captain Washington, of the Virginia troops, and five or six of the Americans, were wounded. Two were killed, and two or three were frozen to death. The detach- ment in Trenton consisted of the regiments of Rahl, Los- berg, and Kniphausen, amounting in the whole to about GEORGE WASHINGTON. 61 1500 men, and a troop of British light horse. All these were killed or captured, except about 600, who escaped by the road leading to Bordentown. The British had a strong battalion of light infantry at Princeton, and a force yet remaining near the Delaware, superiour to the American army. Washington, therefore, in the evening of the same day, thought it most prudent to cross into Pennsylvania with his prisoners. These being secured, he re- crossed the Delaware, and took possession of Trenton. The detachments which had been distributed over New Jersey previous to the capture of the Hessians, imme- diately after that event assembled at Princeton, and were joined by the army from Brunswick under Lord Cornwallis. From this position they came forward to Trenton in great force, hoping, by a vigorous onset, to repair the injury their cause had sustained by the late defeat. Truly delicate was the situation of the feeble American army. To retreat was to hazard the city of Philadelphia, and .to destroy every ray of hope which began to dawn from their late success. To risk an action with a superiour force in front, and a river in rear, was dangerous in the extreme. To get round the advanced party of the British, and, by pushing forwards, to attack in their rear, was deemed pre- ferable to either. The British, on their advance from Princeton, attacked a body of Americans which were post- ed with four field pieces a little to the northward of Tren- ton, and compelled them to retreat. The pursuing British bei^ng checked at the bridge over Sanpink creek by some field pieces, fell back so far as to be out of their reach. The Americans were drawn up on the opposite side of the creek, and in that position remained till niglit, cannonading the enemy and receiving their fire.* In this critical hour, two armies, on which the successor failureof the American revolution materially depended, were crowded into the small village of Trenton, and only separated by a creek, in many places fordable. * Lord Cornwallis made one or two attempts to cross the bridge over the creek, but was so galled by a small battery which commanded it, and by a body of chosen men, placed by Gen. Washington in the Mill-house, that he gave up the attempt, from a contempt of his enemy, looking upon them as his certain prey, their retreat over the Delaware, then full of ice, being impracticable. 6* 62 THE LIFE OF * The British, believing they had all the advantages they could wish for, and that they could use them when they pleased, discontinued all farther operations, and kept thena- selves in readiness to make the attack next morninoj. But the next morning presented a scene as brilliant on the one side, as it was unexpected on the other. Soon after it be- came dark, Washington ordered all his baggage to be silent- ly removed, and having left ajuards for the purpose of decep- tion, marched with his whole force by a circuitous route to Princeton. This manoeuvre was determined upon in a council of war, from a conviction that it would avoid the appearance of a retreat, and at the same time the hazard of an action in a bad position, and that it was the most likely way to preserve the city of Philadelphia from falling into the hands of Ihe British. Washington also presumed, that, from an eagerness to efface the impressions made by the late capture of the Hessians at Trenton, the British com- manders had pushed forward their principal force ; and that the remainder in the rear at Princeton, was not more than equal to his own. The event verified this conjecture. The more effectually to disguise the departure of the Ameri- cans from Trenton, fires were lighted up in front of their camp. These not only gave an appearance of going to rest, but as flame cannot be seen through, concealed from the British what was transacting behind them. In this rel- ative position they were a pillar of fire to the one army, and the pillar of a cloud to the other. Providence favoured this movement of the Americans. The weather had been for some time so warm and moist that the ground was softj and the roads so deep as to be scarcely passable ; but the wind suddenly changed to the northwest, and the ground in a short time was frozen so hard that when the Americans took up their line of march, they were no more retarded than if they had been upon a solid pavement. Washington reached Princeton early in the morning, and would have completely surprised the British, had not a party which was on their way to Trenton descried his troops when they were about two miles distant, and sent back couriers to alarm their unsuspecting fellow soldiers in their rear. These consisted of the 17th, the 40th, and 55th regi- ments of British infantry, and some of the royal artillery^ with two field pieces, and three troops of light dragoons^ GEOKGE WASHIKGTO^^ 6-3 The centre of the Americans, consisting of the Philadelphia militia, while on their line of march, was briskly charged by a party of the British, and gave way in disorder. The moment was critical. Washington pushed forward, and placed himself between his own men and the British, with his horse's head fronting the latter. The Americans, en- couraged by his example and exhortations, made a stand; and returned the British fire. The General^ though between both parties, was providentially uninjured by either. A party of the British fled into the college, and were there attacked with field pieces, which were fired into it. The seat of the muses became for some time the scene of action. The part}' which had taken refuge in the co'lege, after receiving a few discharges from the American field pieces, came out and surrendered themselves prisoners of war. In the course of the engagement sixty of the British were killed, and a great number wounded, and about 300 of them taken prisoners. The rest made their escape, some by pushing on to Trenton : others by returning to Brunswick.* While they were fighting in Princeton, the British in Trenton were under arms, and on the point of making an assault on the evacuated camp of the Americans. With so much address had the movement to Princeton been con- ducted, that though from the critical situation of the two armies every ear may be supposed to have been open, and every watchfulness to have been employed, yet Washington moved completely ofi' the ground with his whole force, stores, baggage, and artillery, unknown to and unsuspected by his adversaries. The British in Trenton were so entirely de- ceived, that when they heard the report of the artillery at Princeton, though it was in the depth of winter, they sup- posed it to be thunder. The British astonished at these bold movements of an enemy supposed to be vanquished, instantly fell back with * The American loss, though small in numbers, was rendered great by the death of the brave Gen, Mercer, who here received his mortal wound. GJen. Hugh Mercer was a Scotchman by birth, and was in his youth at the battle of Culloden. He first distinguished himself in America, in the French war. He was a brase and worthy man ; the friend of the Com- mander in Chief; possessed the respect and confidence of all, for hi? military character and private worth, and his death was deeply la- mented. 64 THE LIFE OF their whole force, and abandoned everj^ post they held to the southward of New York, except Brunswick and Amboy.* CHAP. IV. CAMPAIGN OF 1777. Of the operations of General Washington in New Jersey and Pennsyl- vania, in the campaign of 1777. The battles of Brandywine and German town. Washington is advised by the Rev. Jacob Duche, to give up the contest. The distresses of the American army. Its winter quarters in Valley Forge. Gen. Washington is assailed by the clam- ours of discontented individuals and publick bodies, and by the designs of a faction to supersede him in his office as commander in chief. 1777. The victories at Trenton and Princeton produced the most extensive effects, and had a decided influence on sub- sequent events. Philadelphia was saved for that winter. Jersey was recovered. The drooping spirits of the Ameri- cans were revived. The gloomy apprehensions which had lately prevailed, of their being engaged in a hopeless cause, yielded to a confidence in their General and their army, and in the ultimate success of their struggles for liberty and independence. So strong an impulse was given to the re- cruiting service in every part of the United States, as gave good ground to hope that the coinmander in chief would be enabled to take the field in the spring with a permanent regular army, on the new terms of enlistment. After the campaign had been thus carried into the month of January, Washington retired to Morristown, that he might afford shelter to his suffering army. His situation there was far from being eligible. His force for some con- siderable time was trifling, when compared with that of the British ; but the enemy and his own countrymen believed * These movements manifested unsurpassed prudence and military skill on the part of Gen. Washington, and crowned the campaign ot 1776, otherwise disastrous and extremely critical, with glory. " Thus we see (says Chastellux) that the great events of war are not always great bat- tles ; and humanity may receive some consolation from this sole reflec- tion, that the art of war is not necessarily a sanguinary art, that the talents of the commanders spare the lives of the soldiers, and that igna- rance alone is prodigal of blood." GEORGE WASHINGTON. G5 the contrary. Their deception was cherished and artfully continued by the parade of a large army. Washington placed his officers in positions of difficult access, and they kept up a constant communication with e,ach other. This secured them from insult and surprise. While they covered the country, they harassed the foraging parties of the Brit- ish, and confined them to narrow limits. The remainder of the winter season passed over in a light war of skirmishes. These were generally in favour of the Americans; but Washington's views were much more ex- tensive. He hoped that his country, encouraged by the late successes at Trenton and Princeton, would have placed at his disposal a large and efficient army, equal to that of the enemy. To obtain it, he urged with great earnestness the advantage of being enabled to undertake decisive operations before reinforcements to the British army should arrive. Congress, at his instance, passed the requisite resolutions j but these could not be carried into effect without the aid of the state legislatures. The delays incident to this slow mode of doing business, added to the recollection of the suf- fering of the troops in the last campaign, retarded the re- cruiting service. Washington with infinite reluctance was obliged to give up his favourite project of an early active campaign. In the advance of the spring, when recruits were obtained, a difficulty arose in assembling them from the different states in which they had been enlisted. As the British had possession of the ocean, they could at pleasure transfer the war to any maritime portion of the union. Each state, anxious for its particular safety, claimed protection from the common army of the whole. Had they been indulged, the feeble remnant under the imnjediate direction of the commander in chief, would have been unequal to any great enterprise. To these partial calls he opposed all his autho- rity and influence, and his pointed representations made an impression in favour of primary objects. These were to prevent the British from getting possession of Philadelphia, or the Highlands on the Hudson. Both were of so nearly equal importance to their interest, that it was impossible to ascertain which would be preferred by Sir William Howe. In this uncertainty, Washington^made such an arrangement of his troops as would enable him to oppose either. The 66 THE LIFE OF northern troops were divided between Ticonderoga and Peekskill ; while those from Jersey and tlie south were en- camped at Middlebrook, near the Raritan. The American force collected at this strong and defensible encampment, was nominally between nine and ten thousand men ; but the effective rank and file was about six thousand. A majority of these were raw recruits ; and a considerable number of such as had been enlisted in the middle states were foreign- ers or servants. To encourage the desertion of troops so slightly attached to the American cause, Gen. Howe offered a reward to every soldier who would come over to his army, and an additional compensation to such as would bring their arms with them. To counteract these propositions, Washington recommended to Congress to give full pardon to all Americans who would relinquish the British service. The campaign opened early in June on the part of the British, who advanced towards Philadelphia as far as Somer- set county, in New Jersey ; but they soon fell back to New Brunswick. After this retreat. Sir William Howe endea- voured to provoke Washington to an engagement, and left no manoeuvre untried that was calculated to induce him to quit his position. At one time he appeared as if he intended to push on, without regarding the army opposed to him. At another, he accurately examined the situation of the American encampment ; hoping that some unguarded part might be found on which an attack might be made that would open the way to a general engagement. All these hopes were frustrated. Washington knew the full value of his situation. He had too much penetration to lose it from the circumvention of military manoeuvres, and too much temper to be provoked to a dereliction of it. He was well apprised it was not the interest of his country to commit its fortune to a single action. Sir William Howe suddenly relinquished his position in front of the Americans, and retired with his whole force to Amboy. The apparently retreating British were pursued by a considerable detachment of the American army, and Washington advanced from Middlebrook to Quibbletown, to be near at hand for the support of his advancing parties. The British General immediately marched his army back from Amboy, with great expedition, hoping to bring on a general action on equal ground ; but he was disappointed. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 67 Washington fell back, and posted his army in such an advan- tageous situation as compensated for the inferiority of his numbers. Sir William Howe was now fully convinced of the impossibility of compelling a general engagement on equal terms, and also satisfied that it would be too hazardous to attempt passing the Delaware while the country was in arms, and the main American army in full force in his rear. He therefore returned to Amboy, and thence passed over to Sta- ten Island, resolving to prosecute the objects of the cam- paign by an embarkation of his whole force at New York. During the period of these movements, the real designs of Gen. Howe were involved in obscurity. Though the season for military operations was advanced as far as the month of July, yet his determinate object could not be ascertained. Nothing on his part had hitherto taken place, but alter- nately advancing and retreating. Washington's embar- rassment on this account was increased by intelligence which arrived, that Burgoyne was advancing in great force towards New York from Canada. Apprehending that Sir William Howe would ultimately move up the North River, and that his movements which looked southwardly were feints, the American chief detached a brigade to reinforce the northern division of his army. Successive advices of the advance of Burgoyne favoured the idea that a junction of the two royal armies, near Albany, was intended. Some movements were therefore made Ijy Washington towards Peekskill, and on the other side towards Trenton, while the main army was encamped near the Clove, in readiness to march either to the north or south, as the movements of Sir William Howe might require. After the British had left Sandy Hook, they looked into the Delaware, and suddenly again put out to sea, and were not heard of for near three weeks, except that once or twice they had been seen near the coast steering southwardly. ./Charleston, in South Carolina, was supposed to be their object at one time ; at another, Philadelphia by the way of Chesapeake ; at another, the Highlands of New York, to co-operate with Burgoyne. The perplexing uncertainty concerning the destination of the enemy which embarrassed the movements of Washing- ton, was not done away before the middle of August, when certain accounts were received that the British had taken 68 THE LIFE OP possession of the Chesapeake, and landed as near to Philadel- phia as was practicable. While the object of the campaign was doubtful, every disposition was made to defend all the supposed probable points of attack except Charleston. This being at the distance of seven or eight hundred miles, could not be assisted by an army marching over land, in time to oppose the enemy conveyed thither by water. While this ideaj^prevailed, arrangements were made to employ the Amer- ican army either against the enemy advancing from Albany, or against the British posts in New York, with the hope of making reparation for the expected loss of Charleston. As soon as the arrival of the British in the Chesapeake was known, Washington ordered the different divisions of his army to unite in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia, towards the head of Elk; and the mihtia of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and the northern counties of Virginia, to take the field. He had previously written very pressing letters to the Gov- ernours of the eastern states, • and to the Generals in the western parts of these states, to strengthen the northern army opposed to Burgoyne ; and even weakened himself by detaching some of his best troops, particularly Morgan's riflemen, on that important service. In the spirit of true patriotism, he diminished his own chances of acquiring fame, that the common cause might be the most effectually promoted by the best disposition of the forces under his command, for simultaneous opposition to both Howe and Burgoyne.* ♦ While the divisions of his army were concentrating upon the banks of the Delaware, Washington repaired for a few days to Philadelphia, for the purpose of conferring with Congress. It was on this occasion that he had the first interview with La Fayette, who, after many vicissitudes and sacrifices, had just arrived in America, to offer his services in its cause. His first reception by Congress had not been very cordial or flattering. When he arrived at Philadelphia, M. de LaFayette delivered his letter to Mr. Lovell, president to the committee of foreign affairs. The next day he proceeded to Congress; Mr. Lovell came out of the meeting, and told him there was Uttle hope of his request being acceded to. Suspecting that his letters had not been read, M. de La Fayette wrote the following note: " After the sacrifices I have made, I have the right to exact two favours ; the one is, to serve at my own expense — the other is, to serve at first as a volunteer." His services were then ac- cepted by Congress, in a highly complimentary resolution, conferring upon him the rank and commission of major general. According to Mr. Sparks, the introduction to Gen. Washington, above referred to, took place at a dinner, at which several members of Congress were present. La Fayette says it was a "publick dinner," given to Gen. GEOUGE WASHINGTON, 69 Washington passed his army with every appearance of confidence through the city of Philadelphia, with a \ie\v of making some impression on the disaffected of that city, and afterwards proceeded towards the head of Elk.* About the same time he directed Gen. Smallwood, with the militia of Maryland and Delaware, and some continental troops, to hang on the rear of the enemy. As a substitute for Morgan's riflemen, Gen. Maxwell was furnished with a corps of light infantry, amounting to one thousand men. and directed to annoy the British on their march through the country. These troops were afterwards reinforced with Gen. Wayne's division. Though the mihtia did not turn out with that alacrity which might have been expected from the energetick calls of Washington, yet a respectable force was assembled, which imposed on Sir William Howe a ne- cessity of proceeding with caution. The royal army set out from the eastern heads of the Chesapeake on the third of September, with a spirit, which promised to compensate for the various delays which had hitherto wasted the campaign. They advanced with great circumspection and boldness till they were within two miles of the American army, which was then posted in the vicinity of New Port. Washington soon changed his ground, and took post on the high ground Washington. " When they were separating, Washington drew La Fay- ette aside, expressed much kindness for him, compUmented him upon bai zeal and his sacrifices, and invited him to consider the head quarters as his ovn house, adding, with a smile, that he could not promise him the luxuries of a court, but that as he was become an American soldier, he would doubtless submit cheerfully to the customs and privations of a repubhcan army." La Fayette speaks, in his Memoirs, of this interview as follows : " Although he [Washington] was surrounded by officers and citizens, it was impossible to mistase for a moment his majestick figure and deportment; nor was he less distinguished by the noble affability of his manners." M. de La Fayette accompanied him in his examination of the fortifications. Invited by the General to estabhsh himself in his house, he looked upon it from that moment as is own : with this perfect ease and simplicity was formed \he tie that united two friends, whose confidence and attachment were to be cemented by the strongest inter- ests of humanity. To the intimate relations which subsisted between Washington and La Fayette, during the remainder of the revolutionary war, and the important corresponding services rendered by the latter, Mr. Sparks is the only American historian or biographer, who has done any thing like justice. * " Their heads covered with green branches, and marching to the sound of drums and fifes, these soldiers, in spite of their state of nudity, offered an agreeable spectacle to the eyes of all the citizens. General Washing- ton was marching at their hea5, and M. de La Fayette was by his side." — La Fayctic. 7 70 THE LIFE OF near Chadd's Fort, on the Brandy wine creek, with an inten- tion of disputing the passage. It was the wish, but by no means the interest, of the Americans, to try their strength in an engagement. Their regular troops were not only in- feriour in discipline, but in numbers, to the royal army.* The opinion of the inhabitants, though founded on no cir- cumstances more substantial than their wishes, imposed a species of necessity on the American General to keep his army in front of the enemy, and to risk an action for the security of Philadelphia. Instead of this, had he taken the ridge of high mountains on his right, the British must have respected his numbers, and'probably would have follow- ed him up the country. In this manner the campaign might have been wasted away in a manner fatal to the invaders ; but the bulk of the American people were so impatient of delays, and had such an overweening conceit of the numbers and prowess of their army, that they could not comprehend the wisdom and policy of manoeuvres to shun a general en- gagement. On this occasion necessity dictated that a sacrifice should be made on the altar of publick opinion. A general action was therefore hazarded. This took place at Chadd's Fort, on the Brandy wine, a small stream which empties itself into Christiana creek, near its conflux with the river Delaware. The royal army advanced at daybreak in two columns, commanded by Lieutenant General Kniphausen and Lord Cornwallis. They first took the direct road to Chadd's Fort, and made a show of passing it, in front of the main body of the Americans. At the same time the other column moved up on the west side of the Brandywine to its fork, and crossed both its branches, and then marched down on the east side thereof, with the view of turning the right wing of their adversaries. This they effected, and compelled them to retreat with great loss. Gen. Kniphausen amused the Americans with * This force, says Chastellux, " was composed at most of 12,000 men. It was at the head of these troops, the greatest part of them new levies, that he [Washington] traversed in silence the city of Philadelphia, whilst the Congress where giving him orders to'fight, yet removing their ar- chives and publick papers into the interiour parts of the country ; a sinister presage of the success which must follow their counsel." The British army is estimated by Chief Justice Marshall, at 18,000 men, healthy, and well supplied with all the munitions of war. GEOilGE WASHINGTON. 71 the appearance of crossing the Ford, but did not attempt it until Lord Cornwallis, having crossed above and moved down on the opposite side, had commenced his attack. Kniphausen then crossed the Ford and attacked the troops posted for its defence. These, after a severe conflict, were compelled to give way. The retreat of the Americans soon became general, and was continued to Chester. Their loss was about nine hundred, and considerably exceeded that of the British.* The final issue of battles often depends on small circumstances, which human prudence cannot control. One of these occurred here, and prevented Gen. Washington from executing a bold design, to effect which his troops were actually in motion. This was to cross the Brandy- wine, and attack Kniphausen. while Gen. Sullivan and Lord Stirling should keep Earl Cornwallis in check. In the most critical moment Washington received intelligence which he was obliged to credit, that the column of Lord Cornwallis had been only making a feint, and was returning to join Kniphausen. This prevented the execution of a plan, which, if carried into effect, would probably have given a different turn to the events of the day, Washington made every exertion to repair the loss which had been sustained. The battle of Brandy wine was repre- sented as not being decisive. f Congress and the people wished to hazard a second engagement, for the security^ of Philadelphia. Howe sought for it, and Washington did not decline it. He therefore advanced as far as Warren tavern, on the Lancaster road, with an intention of meeting his adversary. Near that place both armies were on the point of engaging with their whole force ; but were prevent- ed by a most violent storm of rain, which continued for a whole day and night. When the rain ceased, the Ameri- *In this battle, M. de La Fayette, in endeavouring to rally the troops of the division to which he was attached, received a wound in the leg, which disabled him from service for about two months. t The inhabitants of Philadelphia, however, had awaited the result with much anxiety. They had heard every cannon that was fired on the field of battle. ■" The two parties, [whigs and tories, says La Fayette,] as- sembled in two distinct bands in all the squares and publick places, had awaited the event in silence. The last courier at length arrived, and the friends of liberty were thrown into consternation." " The same evening Congress determined to quit the city: a vast number of the inhabitants deserted their own hearths — whole families, abandoning their possessions and uncertain of the future, took refuge in the mountains." 72 THE LIFE OF cans found that their ammunition was entirely ruined. They therefore withdrew to a place of safety. Before a proper supply was procured, the British marched from their posi- tion near the White Horse tavern, down towards the Swedes Ford. The Americans again took post in their front, but the British, instead of urging an action, began to march up towards Reading. To save the stores which had been de- posited in that place, AVash ington took a new position, and left the British in undisturbed possession of the roads which lead to Philadelphia. His troops were worn down with a succession of severe duties. There were in his army above a thousand men who were barefooted, and who had perform- ed all their lat^ movements in that condition. Though Washington had failed in his object of saving Philadelphia, yet he retained the confidence of Congress and the States.* With an army inferiour in numbers, dis- cipline, and equipments, he delayed the British army thirty days in advancing sixty miles through an open country, without fortifications, and the waters of which were every where fordable. Though defeated in one general action, he kept together his undisciplined and unprovided army, and in less than a week offered battle to his successful ad- versary. When this was prevented by a storm of rain which ruined his ammunition, while many of his soldiers were without bayonets, he extricated them from the most imminent danger, and maintained a respectable standing. Instead of immediately retiring into winter quarters, he ap- preached the enemy and encamped on the Shippack road. The British army took their stand in Philadelphia and Ger- mantown, shortly after the battle of Brandywine. From these positions, especially the last, considerable detachments were sent to Chester and the vicinity, to favour an attempt to open the navigation of the river Delaware, which had been obstructed with great ingenuity and industry by the Americans. * Congress adjourned first to Lancaster, and then to York, in Penn- sylvania, where they continued about eight months, till Philadelphia was evacuated by the British. Previous to leaving, however, thty passed spirited resolutions for strengthening the army, and combining the means of defence by calling on several of the states for new quotas of militia. They also again invested Gen. Washington with extraordinary powers to enforce discipline, to secure supplies, and to remove the property of the country, for the benefit of the owners, beyond the reach of the Nenemy. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 73 About the same time the American army received a re- inforcement of two thousand five hundred men, which in- creased its effective force to eleven tliousand. General Washington conceived that the present moment furnished a fair opportunity for enterprise. He therefore resolved to attack the British in Germantown. Their line of encampment crossed that village at right angles ; the left wing extending on the west to the Schuylkill. That wing was covered in front and liank by the German chas- seurs. A battalion of light infantry, and the queen's Ame- rican rangers, were in front of the right. The 40th regi- ment, with another battalion of infantry was posted at the head of the village. The Americans moved from their en- campment on the Shippack road in the evening of the 3d of October, with the intention of surprising their adversaries €arly next morning, and to attack both wings in front and rear at the same time, so as to prevent the several parts from supporting each other. The divisions of Greene and Stevens, flanked by M'Dougal's brigade, were to enter by the limekiln road. The mihtia of Maryland and Jersey, under Generals Smallwood and Furman, were to march by the old York road, and to fall upon the rear of their right. Lord Stirling, with Nashe's and Maxwell's brigade, were to form a corps de reserve. The Americans began their attack about sunrise, on the 40th regiment and a battalion of light infantry. These being obliged to retreat, were pursued into the village. On their retreat, Lieut. Col. Mus- grove, with six companies, took post in Mr. Chew's strong stone house, which lay in front of the Americans. From tin adherence to the military maxim of never leaving a fort possessed by an enemy in the rear, it was resolved to attack the party in the house."^' In the mean time Gen. Greene got up with his column, and attacked the right wing. Col. Mathesvs routed a party * This was a mistaken and disastrous eftbrt. " In 1782, (says the translator of Chastellux,) I passed a very agreeable day at this celebrated stone house, so bravely and judiciously defended by Col. IMusgrove, and saw many marks of cannon and musket shot in the walls, doors, and ■svindow shutters, besides two or three mutilated statues which stood in front of it. It is a plain gentleman's country house with four windows in front, and two stories high, calculated for a small family, and stands single, and detached from every other building; so that, defended as it was by si.\ companies, commanded by so gallant an oflBcer, it was cal- culated to make a long resistance asrainst every thing but heavy cannon." 7* 74 THE LIFE OF of the British opposed to him, killed several, and took 110 prisoners ; but, from tiie darkness of the day, lost sight of the brigade to which he belonged, and having separated from it, was taken prisoner, with his whole regiment j and the prisoners which he had previously taken were released. A number of the troops in Greene's division were stopped by the halt a( the party before Chew's house. Near one half of the American army remained tor some time at that place inactive. In the mean time Gen. Grey led on three bat- talions of the third brigade, and attacked with vigour. A sharp contest followed. Tvvo British regiments attacked at the same time on the opposite side of the town. General Grrant moved up the 49th regiment to the aid of those who were engaged with Greene's column. Th€ morning wa^ foggy* This, by concealing the true situation of the parties, occasioned mistakes, and made so much caution necessary as to give the British time to re- cover from the effects of their first surprise. From these causes the early promising appearances on the part of the assailants were speedily reversed. The Americans left the field hastily, and all efforts to rally them were ineffectual, Washington was obliged to relinquish the victory he had thought within his grasp, and to turn his whole attention to the security of his army. A retreat about 20 miles to Per- kioming was made, with the loss of only one piece of artil- lery. In the engagement the loss of the Americans, inclu- ding the wounded and four hundred prisoners, was about 110.0. A considerable part of this was occasioned by the 40th regiment, which, from the doors and windows of Mr. Chew's large slone house, kept up a constant fire on their uncovered adversaries. The plan of the battle of Germantovvn was judicious, and its commencement well conducted; but to ensure its suc- cessful execution, a steady co-operation of the several divi- sions of the assailants was necessary. The numerous en- closures to be passed, and the thickness of the fo^r, rendered this impossible; especially by troops who were imperfectly disciplined, and without the advantages of experience.* * Of this battle Washington says, in a letter to his brother, " If it had not been for a thick fog, which rendered it so dark at times that we could not distinguish friend from foe, at the distance of thirty yards, we should, I believe, have made a decisive and glorious day of it. But Providence GEORGE WASHINGTON. 75 Congress voted their unanimous thanks " to Gen. M^ash^ ington for his wise and well concerted attack, and to the officers and soldiers of the army, for their brave exertions on that occasion ;" and added — " They were well satisfied that the best designs and boldest efforts may sometimes fail by unforeseen incidents." In the latter part of the campaign of 1777, in proportion as the loss of Philadelphia became more probable, Wash- ington took every precaution eventually to diminish its va- lue to the enemy. Orders were given for moving the mili- tary stores and the vessels at the wharves of that city higher up the Delaware. From the time that the British got possession, every aid consistent with greater objects was given to the forts constructed on the Delaware for op. posing the British in their attempts to open the navigation of that river. Troops were stationed on both sides of the Delaware to prevent the inhabitants from going with their provisions to the market of Philadelphia, and to destroy small foraging parties sent out to obtain supplies for the royal army. These arrangements being made, Washington advanced towards Philadelphia. His objects were to en- feeble the royal army in their operations against the forts on the Delaware ; to attack them if circumstances favour- ed, and prevent their receiving supplies from the country. The British shortly after evacuated Germantown ; concen- tered their force at Philadelphia, and directed their princi- pal attention to the opening the navigation of the Delaware* This employed them for more than six weeks ; and after a great display of gallantry on both sides, was finally accom- plished. In this discouraging state of publick affairs, a long letter was addressed by the Rev. Jacob Duche, late chaplain of Congress, and a clergyman of the first rank, for character, designed it otherwise ; for after we had driven the enen>y a mile or two 3 after they were in the utmost confusion, and flying before us in most places ; after we were upon the pointj as it appeared to every body, of grasping a complete victory, our own troops took, fright and fled with precipitation and disorder. How to account for this^ I know not, unless the fog represented their own friends to them for a re-inforcement of the enemy, as we attacked in different quarters at the same time, and were about closing the wings of our army when this happened." " Our loss," he adds, " was in killed, wounded and missing, about one thousand men. In a word, it was a bloody day. Would to Heaven I could add, that k had been a more fortunate one to us." 76 THE LIFE OP piety, and eloquence, to Gen. Washington ; the purport of which was, to persuade him that farther resistance to Great Britain was hopeless, and would only increase the calami- ties of their common country ; and under this impression to urge him to make the best terms he could with the Bri- tish commander, and to give up the contest. Such a letter, at such a time, in unison with the known sentiments of many desponding citizens, from a person whose character and connexions placed him above all suspicion of treachery, and whose attachment to his native country, America, was unquestionable, could not have failed to make an impression on minds of a feebler texture ; but from Washington, who never despaired of his country, the laboured epistle of the honest, but timid divine, received no farther notice than a verbal message to the writer thereof, "That if the contents of his letter had been known, it should have been returned unopened."* While Sir William Howe was succeeding in every enter- prise in Pennsylvania, intelligence arrived that Gen. Bur- goyne and his whole army had surrendered prisoners of war to the Americans. Washington soon after received a con- siderable reinforcement from the northern army, which had accomplished this great event. With this increased force he took a position at and near Whitemarsh. The royal army having succeeded in removing the obstructions in the river Delaware, were ready for new enterprises. Sir Wil- liam Howe marched out of Philadelphia, with almost his * The faith and piety of Washington were composed of sterner mate- rials than were those of this reverend divine. He never despaired of the cause; and that, as a true Christian, he sought and rehed upon the pro- tection of Providence, the following statement is an interesting proof. The fact previously stated, is, confirmed by a Baptist clergyman residing near Valley Forge, in a letter to the editor of the Christian Watchman, dated January 30, 1832, that while stationed at Valley Forge with the army, under the distressing and trying circumstances related in the fol- lowing pages of this work, the commander in chief " was frequently ob- served to visit a secluded grove. This excited the curiosity of a Mr. Potts, of the denomination of Friends, who watched his movements at one of those seasons of retirement, till he perceived he was on his knees and engaged in prayer. Mr. Potts then returned, and said to his family, " Our cause is lost,^' (he was with the tories) assigning his reasons for this opinion. There is a man of the name of Devault Beaver now living on this spot, and is eighty years of age, who says he has had the state- ment from Mr. Potts and his family." It has been said also, that Gen. Knox was an accidental witness of the same, and was fully apprised that prayer was the object of the commander's visit to the grove. GEORGE WASHINGTON. it whole force, expecting to bring on a general engagement. The next morning he appeared on Chesnut hill, in front of, and about three miles distant from the right wing of the Americans. On the day following the British changed their ground, and moved to the right. Two days after they moved still farther to the right, and made every appearance of an intention to attack the American encampment. Some skirmishes took place, and a general action was hour- ly expected ; but instead thereof, on the morning of the next day, after various marches and countermarches, the British filed off from their right by two or three different routes, in full march for Philadelphia. While the two armies v/ere manoeuvring, in constant ex- pectatiou of an immediate engagement, Washington rode through every brigade of his army, and with a firm steady countenance gave orders in person how to- receive the ene- my, and particularly urged on his troops to place their chief dependence on the bayonet. His position, in a military point of view, was admirable. He was so sensible of the advantages of it, that the manoeuvres of Sir William Howe for some days could not allure him from it. In consequence of the reinforcement lately received, he had not in any pre- ceding period of the campaign been in an equal condition for a general engagement. Though he ardently wished to be attacked, j'-et he would not relinquish a position from which he hoped for reparation for the adversities of the campaign. He could not believe that Gen. Howe, with a victorious army, and that lately reinforced with 4000 men from New York, should come out of Philadelphia only to return thither again. He therefore presumed, that to avoid the disgrace of such a movement, the British commander would, from a sense of military honour, be compelled to at- tack him, though under great disadvantages. When he found him cautious of enfjaginor, and inclininor to his left, a daring design was formed, which would have been executed had the British either continued in their position, or moved a little farther to the left of the American army. This was to have attempted in the night to surprise Philadelphia. Three days after the retreat of the British, Washington communicated in general orders, his intention of retiring into winter quarters. He expressed to his army high ap- probation of their past conduct ; gave an encouraging state- ^S >rHE LIFE Of ment of the prospects of their country ; exhorted them fo bear the hardships inseparable from their situation, and en- deavoured to convince their judgements that these were necessary for the publick good, and unavoidable from the distressed situation of the new formed states. The same care to cut off all communication between the enemy and the country was continued, and the same means employed to secure that object. Gen. Small wood was de- tached to Wilmington to guard the Delaware. Col. Mor- gan, who had lately returned from the victorious northern army, was placed on the lines on the west side of the Schuylkill ; and Gen. Armstrong near the old camp at the Whitemarsh, with a respectable force under the command of each, to prevent the country people from carrying pro- visions to the market in Philadelphia. Valley Forge, about twenty-five miles distant from Phila- delphia, was fixed upon for the winter quarters of the Americans. This position was preferred to distant and more comfortable villages, as being calculated to give the most extensive security to the country. The American army might have been tracked by the blood of their feet in marching without shoes or stockings, over the hard frozen ground between Whitemarsh and the Valley Forge. Under these circumstances they had to sit down in a wood in the latter end of December, and to build huts for their accom- modation. To a want of clothing was added a want of provisions. For some days there was little less than a fam- ine in the camp* Washington was compelled to make seizures for the support of his army. Congress had author- ized him so to do ; but he wished the civil authority to man- age the delicate business of impressment, and regretted the measure as subversive of discipline, and calculated to raise in the soldiers a disposition to licentiousness and plunder. To suffer his army to starve or disband, or to feed them by force, were the only alternatives offered to his choice. Though he exercised these extraordinary powers with equal reluctance and discretion, his lenity was virtually censured by Congress, " as proceeding from a delicacy in exerting military authority on the citizens, which, in their opinion, might prove prejudicial to the general liberties of America ;" at the same time his rigour was condemned by those from whom provisions were forcibly taken. The sound judge- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 79 ment and upright principles of the commander in chief gave a decided preference to the mode of supplying his army by fair contract, but the necessities thereof proceeding from bad management in the commissary department — the de- preciation of the Congress bills of credit — the selfishness of the farmers in preferring British metallick to American pa- per money, together with the eagerness of Congress to starve the British army in Philadelphia, compelled him to extort supplies for his army at the point of the bayonet. In obedience to Congress, he issued a proclamation, " call- ing on the farmers within seventy miles of head quarters to thresh out one half of their grain by the first of February, and the residue by the first of March, under the penalty of having the whole seized as straw." Great were the difficulties Washington had to contend with for feeding and clothing his army ; but they were not the only ones which at this time pressed on him. The states of Pennsylvania and New Jersey were importunate with him to cover them from the incursions of the enemy. In both there were many discontented individuals, who, re- gretting their past losses and present danger from the vicin- ity of a conquering army, were so far misled by their feelings as to suppose it to be the fault of Gen. Washington, that the inferiour destitute army under his immediate com- mand had not been as successful as the superiour well sup- ported northern army under Gen, Gates. The legislature of Pennsylvania, probably sore from the loss of their capital, on hearing that Washington was about to retire into winter quarters, presented a remonstrance to Congress on that sub- ject, in which their dissatisfaction with the General was far from being concealed. A copy of this being sent to him, he addressed Congress in terms very different from his usual style. He stated, " that though every thing in his power had been done for supporting his army, yet their inactivity, arising from their manifold wants, was charged to his ac- count ; that the army seldom had provisions for two days in advance ; that few of his men had more than one shirt, many only a moiety of one, and some none at all ; that soap, vinegar, and such like articles, though allowed by Congress, had not been seen in camp for several weeks ; that by a field return 2898 of his army were unfit for duty, because they were barefooted, and otherwise naked ; that 80 THE LIFE OF his whole effective force in camp amounted to no more than 8200 men fit for duty ; that notwithstanding these compU- cated wants, the remonstrance of the Pennsylvania legisla- ture reprobated the measure of his going into winter quar- ters, as if its authors thought the soldiers were made of stocks or stones, and as if they conceived it easily practi- cable for an inferiour army, circumstanced as his was, to confine a superiour one, well appointed and every way pro- vided for a winter's campaign, within the city of Philadel- phia, and to cover all the circumjacent country from their depredation." He assured the complainers, " that it was much easier to draw up remonstrances in a comfortable room by a good fire-side, than to occupy a cold bleak hill, and sleep under frost and snow, without clothes or blankets." To the other vexations which crowded on Gen. Washing- ton at the close of the campaign of 1777, was added one of a peculiar nature. Though he was conscious he had never solicited, and that it was neither from motives of interest nor of ambition he had accepted the command of the army, and that he had with clean hands and a pure heart, to the utmost of his power, steadily pursued what his best judge- ment informed him was for the interest of his country ; yet he received certain information that a cabal, consisting of some members of Congress, and a few General Officers of the army, was plotting to supersede him in his command. The scheme was to obtain the sanction of some of the state legislatures to instruct their delegates to move in Congress for an inquiry into the causes of the failures of the cam- paigns of 1776 and 1777, with the hope that some intem- perate resolutions passed by them would either lead to the removal of the General, or wound his military feelings so as to induce his resignation. Anonymous papers contain- ing high charges against him, and urging the necessity of putting some more energetick officer at the head of the ar- my, were sent to Henry Laurens, President of Congress, Patrick Henry, Governour of Virginia, and others. These were forwarded to Gen. Washington. In his reply to Mr. Laurens, he wrote as follows : " I cannot sufficiently ex- press the obligation I feel towards you for your friendship and politeness, upon an occasion in which I am so deeply interested. I was not unapprized that a malignant faction had been for some time forming to my prejudice, which, GEORGE WASHINGTON. 81 conscious as I am of having ever done all in my power to answer the important purposes of the trust reposed in me, could not but give me some pain on a personal account ; but my chief concern arises from an apprehension of the dangerous consequences which intestine dissensions may prove to the common cause." " As I have no other view than to promote the publick good, and am unambitious of honours not founded in the approbation of my country, I would not desire in the least degree to suppress a free spirit of inquiry into any part of my conduct, that even faction itself may deem reprehensi- ble. The anonymous paper handed you exhibits many se- rious charges, and it is my wish that it may be submitted to Congress. This I am the more inclined to, as the sup- pression or concealment may possibly involve you in em- barrassments hereafter, since it is uncertain how many, or who may be privy to the contents." " My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They know the delicacy of my situation, and that motives of policy deprive me of the defence I might otherwise make against their insidious attacks. They know I cannot com- bat insinuations, however injurious, without disclosing se- crets it is of the utmost moment to conceal. But why should I expect to be exempt from censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station ? Merit and talents, which I cannot pretend to rival, have ever been subject to it ; my heart tells me it has been my unremitted aim to do the best which cir- cumstances would permit ; yet I may have been very often mistaken in my judgement of the means, and may, in many instances, deserve the imputation of error." About the same time it was reported that Washington had determined to resign his command. On this occasion he wrote to a gentleman in New England as follows : ♦* I can assure you that no person ever heard me drop an ex- pression that had a tendency to resignation. The sanac principles that led me to embark in the opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain, operate with additional force at this day ; nor is it my desire to withdraw my ser- vices while they are considered of importance in the present contest : but to report a design of this kind is among the arts which those who are endeavouring to effect a change, are practising to bring it to pass. I have said, and I still 8 8J3 THE LIFE OF do say, that there is not an officer in the United States that would return to the sweets of domestick life with more heart- felt joy than I should. But I would have this declaration accompanied by these sentiments, that while the publick are satisfied with my endeavours, I mean not to shrink from the cause ; but the moment her voice, not that of faction, calls upon me to resign, I shall do it with as much pleasure as ever the weary traveller retired to rest."* These machinations did not abate the ardour of Wash- ington in the common cause. His patriotism was too solid * This intrigue is known in American History, under the name of Conway's CabaL Gates, Mifflin, and Conway, are the only officers of note who were known to have been engaged in it. La Fayette, who re- mained the warm, undeviating and confidential friend of Washington, notwithstanding the efforts to detach him on this occasion, states that Conway, who was a warm hearted and brave Irishman, but ambitious, passionate and indiscreet, was put forward, and flattered with the idea of being the leader, by Gates and Mifflin; that among the members of Con- gress who abetted them, were the Lees, of Virginia, and the two Adamses, of Massachusetts ; but that their real object was, the promotion of Gen. Lee. The party in Congress must have possessed considerable influ- ence, as Gates was made President«of the War-Office, an office said to have been created for him, and Conway, who resigned on the intrigue being disclosed, was immediately made Inspector General of the army, witlTthe rank of Major- General. The interviews and correspondence between Washington and La Fayette, on this subject, are highly inter- esting ; but our limits will not permit us to do justice to them here. Wri- ting, however, to the Duke D'Ayen, Dec. 16, 1777, La Fayette, in refer- ring to this intrigue, pays the following tribute to Gen. Washington :— " Our General is a man formed, in truth, for this revolution, which could not have been accomplished without him. I see him more intimately than any other man, and I see that he is worthy the adoration of his country." * * * * " I admire each day more fully the excellence of his character, and the kindness of his heart. Some foreigners are dis- pleased at not having been employed, (although it did not depend on him to employ them)— others, whose ambitious projects he would not serve, and some intriguing, jealous men, have endeavoured to injure his reputa- tion ; but his name will be revered in every age, by all true lovers of lib- erty and humanity." Conway, himself, being wounded in a duel with Gen. Cadwallader, and thinking his end near, made the only reparation in his power. He wrote to Gen. Washington as follows : " Philadelphia, February 23d, 1778. " Sir— I find myself just able to hold my pen during a few minutes, and take this opportunity of expressing my sincere grief for having done, written, or said, any thing disagreeable to your excellency. My career will soon be over, therefore justice and truth prompt me to declare my last sentiments. You are in my eyes the great and good man. May you long enjoy the love, esteem, and veneration of these states, who.se liberties you have asserted by your virtues. * " I am, with the greatest respect, your excellency's most obedient and humble servant. THS. CONWAY." -GEORGE WASHINGTON. 83 to be shaken either by envy or ingratitude. Nor was the smallest effect produced in diminishing his well earned repu. tation. Zeal the most active, and services the most benefi- cial, and at the same time disinterested, had rivetted him in the affections of his country and army. Even the victori- ous troops under General Gates, though comparisons highly flattering to their vanity had been made between them and the army in Pennsylvania, clung to Washington as their political saviour. The resentment of the people was gene- rally excited against those who were supposed to be engaged in or friendly to the scheme of appointing a new command- er in chief over the American army. CHAP. V. CAMPAIGN OF 1778. General Washington prepares for the campaign of 1778. Surprises ihe British, and defeats them at Monmouth. Arrests Gen. Lee. Calms the irritation excited by the departure of the French fleet from Rhode Island to Boston. Dissuades from an invasion of Canada. 1778. Washington devoted the short respite from field duty which followed the encampment of the army at Valley Forge, to prepare for an early and active campaign in the year 1778. He laboured to impress on Congress the ne- cessity of having in the field a regular army, at least equal to that of the enemy. He transmitted to the individual states a return of the troops they had severally furnished for the continental army. While this exhibited to each its deficiency, it gave the General an opportunity to urge on them respectively the necessity of completing their quotas. Congress deputed a committee of their body to reside in camp, and, in concert with Gen. Washington, to investigate the state of the army, and to report such reforms as might be deemed expedient. This committee, known by the name of "the committee of arrangement," repaired to Valley Forge, in January, 1778. Washington laid before them a state- 84 THE LltE, OF ment, in which a comprehensive view of the army was taken, and in which he minutely pointed out what he deem- ed necessary for the correction of existing abuses, and for the advancement of the service. He recommended "as essentially necessary, that in addition to present compensa- tion, provision should be made by half pay, and a pension- ary establishment for the future support of the officers, so as to render their commissions valuable." He pointed out *' the insufficiency of their pay (especially in its present state of depreciation) for their decent subsistence ; the sac- rifices they had already made, and the unreasonableness of expecting that they would continue patiently to bear such an over proportion of the common calamities growing out of the necessary war, in which all were equalh' interested ; the many resignations that had already taken place, and the probability that more would follow, to the great injury of the service ; the impossibility of keeping up a strict dis- cipline among officers whose commissions, in a pecuniary view, were so far from being worth holding, that they were the means of impoverishing them." These, and other weighty considerations, were accompanied with a declara- tion by Gen. Washington, " that he neither could nor would receive the smallest benefit from the proposed establishment, and that he had no other inducement in urging it, but a full conviction of its utility and propriety." In the same statement the commander in chief explained to the committee of Congress the defects in the quarter- masters, and other departments connected with the support and comfort of the army ; and also urged the necessity of each state completing its quota by draughts from the mili- tia. The statement concludes with these impressive words — " Upon the whole, gentlemen, I doubt not you are fully impressed with the defects of our present military system, and with the necessity of speedy and decisive measures to place it on a satisfactory footing. The disagreeable picture I have given you of the wants and sufferings of the army, and the discontents reigning among the officers, is a just representation of evils equally melancholy and important ; and unless effectual remedies be applied without loss of time, the most alarming and ruinous consequences are to be ap- prehended." The committee were fully impressed with the correctness of the observations made by the commander in GEOKGE WASH12?GT0>-. 85 Chief, and grounded their report upon them. A general concurrence of sentiment took place. Congress passed re* solutions, but with sundry limitations, in favour of half pay to their officers for seven years after the war ; and gave their- sanction to the other measures suggested by Washing* ton, and recommended by their committee. But, from the delays incidental to large bodies, either deliberating upon or executing publick business, much time necessarily elapsed before the army received the benefits of the proposed re* forms ; and in the mean time their distresses approached to such a height as threatened their immediate dissolution. Respect for their commander attached both officers and sol- diers so strongly to his person, as enabled him to keep them together under privations almost too much for human na* ture to bear. Their effective force throughout the winter was little more than 5000 men, though their numbers on paper exceeded 17000. It was well for them that the Bri- tish made no attempt to disturb them while in this destitute condition. In that case the Americans could not have kept their camp for want of provisions ; nor could they have re- treated tVom it without the certain loss of some thousands who were barefooted and otherwise almost naked. Neither could they have risked an action with any probable hope of success, or without hazarding the most serious conse* quences** The historians of the American revolution wdll detail tlie particulars of a treaty entered into about this time between France and the United States,| and also that thereupon * "It was on this occasion that a foreign oflScer of distinction said to a friend of mine, that he despaired of our independence, for while walk- ing with General Washington along the soldiers' huts, he heard from jTiany voices echoing through the open crevices between the logs, "rio pay, no clothes, no provisions, no rum," and when a miserable being was seen flitting from one hut to another, his nakedness was only cov- ered by a dirty blanket. It will be difficuh to form a just conception of the emotions of grief and sorrow which must have harrowed up the soul of our iljustrious^pairiot and philanthropist. In this darkening hour of adversity, any man who possessed less firmness than Washington, would despair of our independence." — Thatcher's Journal t The news of this treaty, which recognized the independence of the United States, was received by the American army at Valley Forge, with great demonstrations of joy. It was announced by Gen. Washington in General Orders, May 5, 1773. On the reading of the account, after the oflfering up of thanksgivings and a suitable discourse, three ro^inds of ^artillery and musketry were fired ; at the conclusion of the first, the whole «arniy were directed to huzza — Long live the King of France ! — on the 8* 86 THE LIFE OP the government of Great Britain offered terms to the Ameri- cans equal to all they had asked anterior to their declaration of Independence. The first certain intelligence of these offers was received hy Gen. Washington in a letter from Major General Tryon, the British Governour of New York, enclosing the conciliatory proposals, and recommending " that they should be circulated hy Gen. Washington among the officers and privates of his army.'' Instead of comply- ing with this extraordinary request, he forwarded the whole to Congress. The offers of Great Britain, which, if made in due time, would have prevented the dismemberment of the empire, were promptly rejected.* The day after their rejec- tion a resolution formerly recommended by Washington was adopted by Congress, in which they urged upon the different states " to pardon, under certain limitations, such of their mis- guided citizens as had levied war against the United States. "f Copies of this were struck off in English and German, and Gen. Washington was directed to take measures for circula- ting them among the American levies in the British army. He immediately enclosed them in a letter to Tryon, in which he acknowledged the receipt of his late letter covering the second, Huzza, long live the Friendly Powers of Europe !— and on the third, Huzza for the American States! "All the officers of the army then assembled, and partook of a collation provided by the General, at ■which several patriotick toasts were given, accompanied with three cheers. His excellency took leave of the officers at five o'clock, on which there was universal huzzaing — Long live General Washington! and clapping of hands, till the General rode some distance. Approbation indeed was conspicuous in every countenance, and universal joy reigned throughout the camp." — Thatcher, * Mr. Sparks stales, that the rejection of these proposals took place ten days previous to the arrival of the news of the treaty with France. Thi? was the fact, although the conclusion of the treaty was known in Great Britain, before the act authorizing the propositions had passed Parliament, which hastened their adoption and transmission to America. t Respecting this measure. Gov. Livingston wrote to President Lau- rens, May 7, 1778; — "The measure may be founded in good policy, and just at this time gave a shock to the enemy; but I conceive it will in this state be far from popular. We have suffered so much from tories, and there is in some of our counties so rooted an aversion against that sort of gentry, that the more sanguine whiga would think it extremely hard to proffer them all the immunities of that happy constitution, which they, at the risk of their lives and fortunes, have battled out of the jaws of tyranny, yhile the others have meditated our destruction, spilt our blood, and in all probability protracted the war a year longer than it would otherwise have lasted. And as to our heartily forgiving them, I think that will rather require a double portion of the grace of God, than be effected by a thousand resolves of CoDgress."^ GEOBGE WASHIXGTOJf. 8? British conciliatory bills, ard requesting their circulaticrn in the American army ; and in the way of retort requested the instrumentality ot'Tryon. in making the resolves of Con- gress known to the Americans in the British army, on whom they were intended to operate. About this time Sir William Howe resigned the command of the British army, and returned to Great Britain. His successor, Sir Henry Clinton, had scarcely entered on the duties of his office, when he received orders to evacuate Philadelphia. This was deemed expedient from an appre- hension that it would be a dangerous position in case a French fleet, as was expected, should arrive in the Dela^ ware to co-operate with the Americans. The design of evacuating Philadelphia was soon discov^ ered by Washington ; but the object or course of the ene- my could not be precisely ascertained. Their preparations equally denoted an expedition to the south: an embarkation of their whole army for Xew York ; or a march to that city through Xew Jersey. In the two tirst cases Washington had not the means of annoyance ; but as the probability of the last daily increased, he directed his chief attention to that point.* Gen. Maxwell, with the Jersey brigade, was ordered over the Delaware to take post about Mount Holly, and to co-ope^te with Gen. Dickenson at the head of the Jersey militia, in obstructing the progress of the royal army till time should be gained for Washington to overtake them. The British crossed the Delaware to Gloucester Point, on the ISth of June, 1778; the Americans in four days after, at Corryel's ferry. The General officers of the latter, on being asked what line of conduct they deemed most advisa- ble, had previously, and with one consent, agreed to attempt nothing till the evacuation of Philadelphia was completed; but after the Delaware was crossed, there was a diversity of sentiment respecting the measures proper to be pursued. * At this time, La Fayette was sent out with a detachment of two thousand chosen men, for the purpose of reconnoitering, and gaining intelligence of the motions of the enemy. He took station at Barren Hill, about equal distance, eleven miles, from the two armies, but the British gainmg intelligence of his position, a larffe portion of their army marched out from Philadelphia in the night, witli full confidence of sur- prising and taking him prisoner. M. de La Fayette was nearly sur- rounded, before he was aware of the presence of the British forces ; but by skilful movements baffled the enemy, and brought off his forces in safety to Valley Forge, without the loss of a single raan» 88 - tkE tiPE oil' Gen. Lee, who, having been exchanged, joined the army, was of opinion that the United States, in consequence of their late foreign connexions, were secure of their indepen- dence, unless their army was defeated ; and that under such circumstances it would be criminal to hazard an action, unless they had some decided advantage. Though the num- bers in both armies were nearly equal, and about 10,000 effective men in each, he attributed so much to the superi- ority of British discipline, as made him apprehensive of the issue of an engagement on equal ground.* These sentiments were sanctioned by the voice of a great majority of the general officers. Washington was nevertheless strongly inclined to risk an action. Though cautious, he was enter- prising, and could not readily believe that the chances of War were so much against him as to threaten consequences of the a!arming magnitude which had been announced. There was a general concurrence in a prf>posal for strength, ening the corps on the left flank of the enemy with 1500 inen, to improve any partial advantages that might offer, and that the main body should preserve a relative position for acting as circumstances might require. When Sir Henry Clinton had advanced to Allentown, he determined, instead of keeping the direct course towards Staten Island, to draw towards the sea cc^st, and to push on towards Sandy Hook. W^ashington, on receiving intelli- gence that Sir Henry was proceeding in that direction towards Monmouth court-house, dispatched 1000 men under Gen. Wayne, and sent the Marquis de La Fayette to take command of the whole, with orders to seize the first fair opportunity of attacking the enemy's rear. The command of this advanced corps was offered to Gen. Lee, but he de- clined it. The whole army followed at a proper distance for supporting the advanced corps, and reached Cranberry the next morning. Sir Henry Clinton, sensible of the ap- proach of the Americans, placed his grenadiers, light-infan* try, and chasseurs^ in his rear, and his baggage in his front* * Mr. Sparks states as a fact since ascertained, that the American army at that time, including the detachments on the North River and at other places, did not exceed fifteen thousand men ; while the British army amounted to nearly thirty thousand, of 'which number nineteen thousand five hundred were in Philadelphia, and ten thousand four hun- dred in New York t there were, besides, three thousand seven hundred at Rhode Island. GEORGE WASHIJJGTON. 89 Washington increased his advanced corps with two brigades, and sent Gen. Lee, who now wished for the command, to take charge of the whole, and followed with the main army to give it support. On the next morning orders were sent to Lee to move on and attack, unless there should be powerful reasons to the contrary. When Washington had marched about five miles to support the advanced corps, he found the whole of it retreating by Lee's orders, and without having made any opposition of consequence. Washington rode up to Lee and proposed certain questions. Lee answered with warmth, and unsuitable language. The commander in chief ordered Col. Stewart's, and Lieut. Col. Ramsay's battalions, to form on a piece of ground which he judged suitable for giving a check to the advancing enemy. Lee was then asked if he would command on that ground, to which he consented, and was ordered to take proper measures for checking the enemy; to which he replied, "your orders shall be obeyed, and I will not be the first to leave the field." Washington then rode to the main army, which was formed with the utmost expedition. A warm cannonade immediate- ly commenced between the British and American artillery and a heavy firing between the advanced troops of the Brit- ish army and jthe two battalions which Washington had halted. These stood their ground till they were intermixed with a part of the British army. Gen. Lee continued till the last on the field of battle, and brought oflfthe rear of the retreating troops. The check the British received gave time to make a dis- position of the left wing and second line of the American army, in the wood and on the eminence to which Lee was retreating. On this some cannon were placed by Lord Stirling, who commanded the left wing, which, with the co- operation of some parties of infantry, effectually stopped the advance of the British in that quarter. Gen. Greene took a very advantageous position on the right of Lord Stirling. The British attempted to turn the left flank of the Ameri- cans, but were repulsed. They also made a movem.ent to the right, with as little success ; for Greene, with artillery, disappointed their design. Wayne advanced with a body of troops, and kept up so severe and well directed a fire, that the British were soon compelled to give way. They retired, and took the position which Lee had before occupied. Washington resolved to attack them, and ordered (ieneraJ 00 THE LIFE OF Poor to move round upon their right, and Gen. Woodford to their left; but they could not get within reach before it was dark. These remained on the ground wliich they had been directed to occupy, during the night, with an intention of attacking early next morning; and the main body lay on their arms in the field to be ready for supporting them. Gen. Washington, alter a day of great activity and much personal danger, reposed among his troops on his cloak under a tree, in hopes of renewing the action the next day.* But these hopes were frustrated. The British marched away in the night in such silence, that Gen. Poor, though he lay very near them, knew nothing of their departure. They left behind them four officers and about forty privates, all so badly wounded that they could not be removed. Their other wounded were carried off. The British pursued their march without farther interruption, and soon reached the neighbourhood of Sandy Hook, without the loss of either their covering party or baggage. The American General declined all farther pursuit of the royal army, and soon after drew off his troops to the borders of the North River. The loss of the Americans in killed and wounded was about 250. The loss of the royal army, inclusive of prisoners, was about 350. On the ninth day after this action. Congress unanimously resolved, " that their thanks be given to Gen. Washington for the activity with which he marched from the camp at Valley Forge in pursuit of the enemy ; for his distinguished exertions in forming the line of battle ; and for his great good conduct in leading on the attack, and gaining the im- portant victory of Monmouth, over the British grand army, under the command of Gen. Sir Henry Clinton, in their march from Philadelphia to New York." It is probable that Washington intended to take no further notice of Lee's conduct in the day of action, but the latter could not brook the expressions used by the former at their first meeting, and wrote him two passionate letters. This occasioned his being arrested and brought to trial. The charges exhibited against him were, * " General Washington was never greater in battle than in this action. His presence stopped the retreat; his arrangements secured the victory. His graceful bearing on horseback, his calm and diojnified deportment, which still retained some trace of the displeasure he had experienced in the morning, were all calculated to excite the highest degree of enthusi- asm."— Z/a Fayette. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 91 1st. For disobedience of orders in not attacking the ene- my on the 28th of June, agreeable to repeated instructions. 2dly. For misbehaviour before the enemy on the same day, by making an unnecessary, disorderly, and shameful retreat. 3diy. For disrespect to the commander in chief in two letters. After a tedious hearing Ijefore a court martial, of which Lord Sterling was president, Lee was found guilty, and sentenced to be suspended from any command in the armies of the United States for the term of one year ; but the .second charge was softened by the court, which only found him guilty of misbehaviour before the enemy, by making an unnecessary, and, in some few instances, a disorderly re- treat.* Soon after the battle of Monmouth the American army took post at the White Plains, and remained there, and in the vicinity, till autumn was far advanced, and then retired to Middlebrook in New Jersey. During this period, nothing of more importance occurred than skirmishes, in which Gen. Washington was not particularly engaged. He was never- theless lully employed. His mild conciliatory manners, and the most perfect subjection of his passions to reason, together with the soundness of his judgement, enabled him to serve his country with equal effect, though with less splen- dour than is usually attached to military exploits. The French fleet, the expectation of which had induced the evacuation of Philadelphia, arrived too late for attack- ing the British in the Delaware."}* It was also deemed unad- visable to attempt New York; but the British posts on Rhode * Congress refused to reverse this sentence. Lee left the army, and did not join ii again. He died four years afterwards, in Philadelphia. t This fleet, under Count D'Estaing, consisted of twelve ships of the line and four frigates. M. Gerard, the first minister from France to the United States, was on board. Touching first at the Capes of Delaware, and finding that the British army had evacuated Philadelphia, the admi- ral repaired to Sandy Hook. General Washington sent his aids. Col. Laurens and Col. Hamilton, on board, to congratulate the French admi- ral on his arrival, and to consult with him on the plan of operations. It was desired that the French should attack the British fleet, then at an- chor within the Hook, and that Gen. Washington should simultaneously attack New Vork by land. But the pilots unanimously declared that the depth of water did not admit .the passage of the largest of the French ships over the bar ; the plan of operations was therefore changed, and the squadron repaired to Rhode Island. 92 THE LIFE OF Island, were judged proper objects of a conjunct expedition with the sea and land forces of France and America. This being resolved upon, Gen. Sullivan was appointed to conduct the operations of the Americans. When the preparations for commencing the attack were nearly completed, a British fleet appeared insight. D'Estaing, who commanded the French fleet, put out to sea to engage them ; but a storm came on which crippled both fleets to such an extent, as in- duced the one to go to New York, and the other to Boston, for the purpose of being repaired. While the fleets were out of sight, Sullivan had commenced the siege, and flatter- ed himself that a few days co-operation of the returned French ships could not fail of crowning him with success. The determination of D'Estaing to retire to Boston instead of co-operating in the siege, excited the greatest alarm in SulUvan's army. By this dereliction of the original plan, the harbours of Rhode-Island were left free and open for re- inforcements to the British, which might be easily poured in from their head quarters in New York. Instead of an- ticipated conquests, Sullivan had reason to fear for the safety of his army. Irritated at the departure of D'Estaing, he expressed in general orders to his army, " his hope that the event would prove America able to procure that, by her own arms, which her allies refused to assist in obtaining." These expressions were considered as imputing to D'Estaing and the French nation a disclination to promote the interests of the United States. When entreaties failed of persuading D'Estaing to return to the siege, a paper was drawn up and signed by the principal officers of the Americans, and sent to him, in which they protested against his taking the fleet to Boston, " as derogatory to the honour of France ; contra- ry to the intentions of his most Christian Majesty, and the interest of his nation ; destructive to the welfare of the United States, and highly injurious to the alliance between the two nations." So much discontent prevailed, that seri- ous apprehensions were entertained that the means of re- pairing the French fleet would not be readily obtained. Washington foresaw the evils likely to result from the general and mutual irritation which prevailed, and exerted all his influence to calm the minds of both parties. He had a powerful coadjutor in the Marquis de La Fayette, who was as deservedly dear to the Americans as to the French. His GEORGE WASHINGTON. 9^ first duties were due to his king and country ; but he loved America, and was so devoted to the commander in chief of its armies, as to enter into his views, and second his soften- ing conciliatory measures, with truly filial affection. Washington also wrote to Gen. Heath, who commanded at Boston, and to Sullivan and Greene, who commanded at Rhode Island. In his letter to Gen. Heath, he stated his fears " that the departure of the French fleet from Rhode Island, at so critical a moment, would not only weaken the confidence of the people in their new allies, but produce such prejudice and resentment as might prevent their giving the fleet, in its present distress, such zealous and efFectuai assistance as was demanded by the exigence of affairs, and the true interests of America;" and added, "that it would be sound policy to combat these effects, and to give the best construction of Avhat had happened ; and at the same time to make strenuous exertions for putting the French fleet, as soon as possible, in a condition to defend itself, and be useful." He also observed as follows — " The departure of the fleet from Rhode Island, is not yet publickly announced here ; but when it is, I intend to ascribe it to necessity produced by the damage received in the late storm. This it appears to me is the idea which ought to be generally propagated. As I doubt not the force of these reasons will strike you equally with myself, I would recommend to you to use your utmost influence to palliate and soften matters, and to induce those whose business it is to provide succours of every kind for the fleet, to employ their utmost zeal and activity in doing it. It is our duty to make the best of our misfortunes, and not suffer passion to interfere with our interest and the publick good." In a letter to Gen. Sullivan, he observed — " The disagree- ment between the army under your command and the fleet, has given me very singular uneasiness. The continent at large is concerned in our cordiality, and it should be kept up by all possible means consistent with our honour and policy. First impressions are generally longest retained, and will serve to fix in a great degree our national charac ter with the French. In our conduct towards them, we should remember, that they are a people old in war, very strict in military etiquette, and apt to take fire when others seem scarcely warmed. Permit me to recommend in the 9 94 THE LtFE OF most particular manner, the cultivation of harmony and good agreement, and your endeavours to destroy that ill- humour which may have found its way among the officers. It is of the utmost importance too that the soldiers and the people should know nothing of this misunderstanding ; or if it has reached them, that means may be used to stop its progress, and prevent its effects." In a letter to Gen. Greene, he observed — " I have not now time to take notice of the several arguments which were made use of, for and against the Count's quitting the harbour of Newport, and sailing for Boston. Right or wrong, it will probably disappoint our sanguine expectations of success, and, which I deem a still worse consequence, I fear it will sow the seeds of dissension and distrust between us and our new allies, unless the most prudent measures be taken to suppress the feuds and jealousies that have already risen. I depend much on your temper and influence to conciliate that animosity w'hich subsists between the Amer- ican and French officers in our service. I beg you will take every measure to keep the protest entered into by the Gen- eral Officers from being made publick. Congress, sensible of the ill consequences that will flow from our diflTerences being known to the world, have passed a resolve to that purpose. Upon the whole, my dear sir, you can conceive my meaning better than I can express it ; and I therefore fully depend on your exerting yourself to heal all private animosities between our principal officers and the French, and to prevent all illiberal expressions and reflections that may fall from the army at large." Washington also improved the first opportunity of re- commencing his correspondence with count D'Estaing, in a letter to him, which, without noticing the disagreements that had taken place, was vvell calculated to sooth every angry sensation which might have rankled in his mind. In the course of a short correspondence, the irritation which threatened serious mischiefs entirely gave way to returning good humour and cordiality. In another case about the same time the correct judge- ment of Washington proved serviceable to his country. In the last months of the year 1778, when the most active part of the campaign was over. Congress decided on a mag- nificent plan for the conquest of Canada. This was to be GEORGE WASHrNGTO>'. 95 attempted in 1779 by land and water, on the side of the United States, and by a fleet and array from France. The plan was proposed, considered, and agreed to, before Wash- ington was informed of it. He was then desired to write to Dr. Franklin, the American minister at Paris, to interest him in securing the proposed co-operation of France. In reply to the communications of Congress, he observed — " The earnest desire I have strictly to comply in every in- stance with the views and instructions of Congress, cannot but make me feel the greatest uneasiness when I find myself in circumstances of hesitation or doubt, with respect to their directions ; but the perfect confidence I have in the justice and candour of that honourable body, emboldens me to communicate without reserve the difficulties which occur in the execution of their present order ; and the indulgence I have experienced on every former occasion induces me to imagine that the liberty I now take will not meet with disapprobation. "I have attentively taken up the report of the committee respecting the proposed expedition into Canada. I have considered it in several lights, and sincerely regret that I should feel my.self under any embarrassment in carrying it into execution. Still I remain of opinion, from a general review of things, and the state of our resources, that no ex- tensive system of co-operation with the French for the complete emancipation of Canada, can be positively decifled on for the ensuing year. To propose a plan of perfect co- operation with a foreign power, without a moral certainty in our supplies ; and to have that plan actually ratified with the court of Versailles, might be attended, in case of failure in the conditions on our part, with very fatal eflfects. " If I should seem unwilling to transmit the plan as pre- pared by Congress, with my observations, it is because I find myself under a necessity (in order to give our minister sufficient ground to found an application on,) to propose something more than a vague and indecisive plan, which, even in the event of a total evacuation of the States by the enemy, may be rendered impracticable in the execution by a variety of insurmountable obstacles ; or if I retain my present sentiments, and act consistently, I must point out the difficulties, as they appear to me, which must embarrass his negotiations, and may disappoint the views of Congress. 96 THE LIFE OF ** But proceeding on the idea of the enemy's leaving these States before the active part of the ensuing campaign, I should fear to hazard a mistake as to the precise aim and extent of the views of Congress. The conduct I am to ob- serve in writing to our minister at the court of France, does not appear sufficiently delineated. Were I to undertake it, I should be much afraid of erring through misconception. In this dilemma, I would esteem it a particular favour to be excused from writing at all on the subject, especially as it is the part of candour in me to acknowledge that I do not see my way clear enough to point out such a plan for co-opera- tion, as I conceive to be consistent with the ideas of Con- gress, and as will be sufficiently explanatory with respect to time and circumstances to give efficacy to the measure. " But if Congress still think it necessary for me to pro- ceed in the business, \ must request their more definitive and explicit instructions, and that they will permit me pre- vious to transmitting the intended despatches, to submit them to their determination. " I could wish to lay before Congress more minutely the §tate of the army, the condition of our supplies, and the re- quisites necessary for carrying into execution an underta- king that may involve the most serious events. If Congress think this can be done more satisfactorily in a personal conference, I hope to have the army in such a situation be- fore I can receive their answer as to afford me an opportu- nity of giving my attendance." The personal interview requested in this letter was agreed to by Congress, and a committee appointed by them to con- fer with him. The result was that the proposed expedition against Canada was given up by those who, after repeated deliberation, had resolved upon it. OEORGE WASHINGTON. 9# CHAP. VI. CAMPAIGN OP 1779. The distresses of the American army. Gen. Washington calms the un- easiness in the Jersey hne. Finds great difficulty in supporting his troops and concentrating their force. Makes a disposition of them with a view to the security of West Point. Directs an expedition against the Six Nations of Indians, and for the reduction of Stony Point. Paulus Hook taken. A French tieet, expected to the northward, ar- rives on the coast of Georgia. Washington, unequal to offensive ope- rations, retires into winter quarters. 1779. The years 1779 and 1780, passed away in the northern states without any of those great military exploits which enliven the pages of history ; but they were years of anxie- ty and distress, which called for all the passive valour, the sound practical judgement, and the conciliatory address, for which Gen. ^Vashington was so eminently distinguished.* The states, yielding to the pleasing delusion that their aU iiance with France placed their independence beyond the reach of accident, and that Great Britain, despairing of success, would speedily abandon the contest, relaxed in their preparations for a vigorous prosecution of the war. To these ungrounded hopes Washington opposed the wliolc weight of his influence. In his correspondence with Con- * The camp, however, was not without its social and enlivening scenes. Thatcher says, under date of February 4, 1779: "The anniversary of our alliance with France was celebrated in proper style a few days since near Head Quarters, at Pluckemin. A splendid entertainment was given by Gen. Knox and the officers of artillery. General Washington and his lady, with the principal officers of the army and their ladies, and a considerable number of respectable ladies and gentlemen of the state of New Jersey, formed the brilliant assembly. About four o'clock, sixteen cannon were discharged, and the company collected in a large publick building to partake of an elegant dinner. In the evening a very beautiful set of fire-works was exhibited, and the celebration was concluded by a splendid ball, opened by his excellency General Washington, having for his partner the lady of General Knox. By thus entering into the inno- cent social enjoyments, and interesting himself in the personal welfare of his associates, as he did uniformly, the commander in chief greatly strengthened his influence. 9* 9B THE LIFE OF gressj the Governours of particular states, and other influen- tial individuals, he pointed out the fallacy of the prevailing opinion tliat peace was near at hand ; and the necessity for raising, equipping, and supporting, a force sufficient for act- ive operations. He particularly urged that the annual ar- rangements for the army should be made so early that the recruits for the year should assemble at Head Quarters on the first of January ; hut such was the torpor of the pub- lick mind that, notwithstanding these representations, it was as late as the 2.3d of January, 1779, when Congress passed resolutions authorizing the commander in chief to re-enlist the army ; and as late as the 9th of the following March, that the requisitions were made on the several states for their quotas. The military establishment for 1780 was later ; for it was not agreed upon till the 9th of February ; nor were the men required before the first of April. Thus, when armies ought to have been in the field, nothing more was done than a grant of the requisite authority for raising, them. The depreciation- of the current paper money had ad- vanced so rapidly as to render the daily pay of an officer unequal to his support.* This produced serious discontents in the army. An order was given in May, 1779, for the Jersey brigade to march by regiments to join the western^ army. In answer to this order a letter was received from Gen. Maxwell, stating that the officers of the first regiment had delivered to their Colonel a remonstrance, addressed ta the legislature of New .Jersey, in which they declared,, that unless their former complaints on the deficiency of pay ob- tained immediate attention, they were to be considered at the end of three days as having resigned their commissions ; and on that contingency they requested the legislature to appoint other officers in their stead. General Washington,, who was strongly attached to the army, and knew their vir- tue, their sufferings, and also the justice of their complaints, immediately comprehended the ruinous consequences likely to result from the measure they had adopted. After serious deliberation, he wrote a letter to Gen. Maxwell, to be laid before the officers. In the double capacity of their friend and their commander, he made a forcible address both to * Thatcher states, that in April, 1779, he \)a\d six hundred dollars (or- a horse, the value of which, was not more than eighty dollars in silver.. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 99 their pride and their patriotism. " There is notiiing," he observed, " which has happened in the course of the war, that has given me so much pain as the remonstrance you mention from the officers of the first Jersey regiment. I cannot but consider it a hasty and imprudent step, which, on more cool consideration, they will themselves condemn. I am very sensible of the inconveniences under which the officers of the army labour, and I hope they do me the jus- tice to believe, that my endeavours to procure them relief are incessant. There is more difficulty, however, in satis, fying their wishes, than perhaps they are aware of. Our resources have been hitherto very limited. The situation- of our money is no small embarrassment, for which, though there are remedies, they cannot be the work of a moment- Government is not insensible of the merits and sacrifices of the officers, nor unwilling to make a compensation ; but it is a truth of which a very little observation must convince us, that it is very much straitened in the means. Great allowances ought to be made on this account, for any delay and seeming backwardness which may appear. Some of the states, indeed, have done as generously as was in their power; and if others have been less expeditious, it ought to be ascribed to some peculiar cause, which a little time, aided by example, will remove. The patience and perseverence of the army have been, under every disadvantage, such as do them the highest honour at home and abroad, and have inspired me with an unlimited confidence in their virtue, which has consoled me amidst every perplexity and reverse of fortune, to which our affairs, in a struggle of this nature, were necessarily exposed. Now that we have made so great a progress to the attainment of the end we have in view, so that we cannot fail, without a most shameful desertion of our own interests, any thing like a change of conduct would imply a very unhappy change of principles, and a forget- fulness as well of what we owe to ourselves as to our coun- try. Did I suppose it possible this should be the case, even in a single regim.ent of the army, I should be mortified and chagrined beyond expression. I should feel it as a wound given to my own honour, which I consider as embarked with that of the army. But this I believe to be impossible. Any corps that was about to set an example of the kind, would weigh well the consequences ; and no officer of com- 100 TME LiFfi OF tnon discernment and sensibility would hazard them. If they should stand alone in it, independent of other conse- quences, what would be their feelinj^s on reflecting that they had held themselves out to the world in a point oflight infe- riour to the rest of the army? Or, if their example should be followed, and become general, how could they console themselves for having been the foremost in bringing ruin and disgrace upon their country ? They would remember that the army would share a double portion of the general infamy and distress ; and that the character of an Amer- ican officer would become as despicable as it is now glorious. " I confess the appearances in the present instance are disagreeable; but I am convinced they seem to mean more than they really do. The Jersey officers have not been outdone by any others, in the qualities either of citizens or soldiers ; and I am confident no part of them would seri- ously intend any thing that would be a stain on their for- mer reputation. The gentlemen cannot be in earnest ; they have only reasoned wrong about the means of attaining a good end, and, on consideration, I hope and flatter myself they will renounce what must appear improper. At the opening of a campaign, when pnder marching orders for an important service, their own honour, duty to the publick, and to themselves, and a regard to military propriety, will not suffer them to persist in a measure which would be a violation of them all. It will even wound their delicacy coolly to reflect, that they have hazarded a step which has an air of dictating terms to their country, by taking advan- tage of the necessity of the moment. "The declaration they have made to the state, at so crit- ical a time, that ' unless they obtain relief in the short peri- od of three days, they must be considered out of the service,' has very much that aspect ; and the seeming relaxation of continuing until the state can have a reasonable time to provide other oflicers, will be thought only a superficial veil. I am now to request that you will convey my sentiments to the gentlemen concerned, and endeavour to make them sen- sible of their errour. The service for which the regi- ment was intended, will not admit of delay. It must at all events march on Monday morning, in the first place to this camp, and further directions will be given when it arrives. GEOSGE WASHINGTON. lOf I am sure I shall not be mistaken in expecting a prompt and cheerful obedience." The officers did not explicitly recede from their claims, but were brought round so far as to continue in service. In an address to Gen. Washington, they declared " their unhappiness that any step of theirs should give him pain ; but alleged in justification of themselves, " that repeated memorials had been presented to their legislature, which had been neglected ;" and added — " We have lost all con- fidence in that body. Reason and experience forbid that we should have any. Few of us have private fortunes ; many have families who already are suffering every thing that can be received from an ungrateful country. Are we then to suffer all the inconveniences, fatigues, and dangers of a military life, while our wives and our children are per- ishing for want of common necessaries at home ; and that without the most distant prospect of reward, for our pay is now only nominal ? We are sensible that your excellency cannot wish or desire this from us." " We are sorry that you should imagine we meant to dis- obey orders. It was, and still is, our determination to march with our regiment, and to do the^duty of officers, until the legislature should have a reasonable time to appoint others ; but no longer, " We beg leave to assure your excellency, that we have the highest sense of your ability and virtues ; that execu- ting your orders has ever given us pleasure ; that we love the service and we love our country ; but when that coun- try is so lost to virtue and to justice as to forget to support its servants, it then becomes their duty to retire from its service." The ground adopted by the officers for their justification, was such as interdicted a resort to stern measures ; at the same time a compliance with their demands was impossible. In this embarrassing situation, Washington took no other notice of their letter than to declare to the officers, through Gen. Maxwell, " that while they continued to do their duty, he should only regret the part they had taken." The le- gislature of New Jersey, roused by these events, made some partial provision for their troops. The officers withdrew their remonstrance, and continued to do their duty. The consequences likely to result from the measures 102 THE LIFE OF adopted by the Jersey officers being parried by the good sense and prudence of Gen. Washington, he improved the event when communicated to Congress, by urging on them the absolute necessity of some general and adequate pro- vision for the officers of their army ; and observed, " that the distresses in some corps are so great, that officers have solicited even to be supplied with the clothing destined for the common soldiery, coarse and unsuitable as it was. I had not power to comply with the request." *' The patience of men animated by a sense of duty and honour, will support them to a certain point, beyond which it will not go. I doubt not Congress will be sensible of the danger of an extreme in this respect, and will pardon my anxiety to obviate it." The members of Congress were of different opinions res- pecting their military arrangements. While some were in unison with the General for a permanent national army, well equipped and amply supported, others were apprehen- sive of danger to their future liberties from such establish, ments, and gave a preference to enlistments for short peri- ods, not exceeding a year. These also were partial to state systems, and occasional calls of the militia, instead of a numerous regular force, at the disposal of Congress, or the commander in chief. From the various aspect of publick affairs, and the frequent change of members composing the national legislature, sometimes one party predominated, and sometimes another. On the whole, the support received by Washington was far short of what economy, as well as sound policy, required. The American army in these years was not only deficient in clothing, but in food. The seasons both in 1779 and 1780, were unfavourable to the crops. The labours of the farmers had often been interrupted by calls for militia duty. The current paper money was so depreciated as to be deem- ed no equivalent for the productions of the soil. So great were the necessities of the American army, that Gen. Wash- ington was obliged to call on the magistrates of the adjacent counties for specified quantities of provisions, to be supplied in a given number of days. At other times he was com- pelled to send out detachments of his troops to take provi. sions at the point of the bayonet from the citizens. This expedient at length failed, for the country in the vicinity of GEOHGE WASHINGTON, 103 the army afforded no further supplies. These impressments were not only injurious to the morals and discipline of the army, but tended to alienate the affections of the people. Much of the support which the American General had pre- viously experienced from the inhabitants, proceeded from the difference of treatment they received from their own army, compared with what they suffered from the British. The General, whom the inhabitants hitherto regarded as their protector, had now no alternative but to disband his troops, or to support them by force. The army looked to him for provisions ; the inhabitants for protection of their property. To supply the one and not offend the other, seemed httle less than an impossibility. To preserve order and subordination in an army of free republicans, even when well fed, paid, and clothed, would have been a work of diffi- culty ; but to retain them in service and restrain them with discipUne, when destitute not only of the comforts, but often of the necessaries of life, required address and abilities of such magnitude as are rarely found in human nature. In this choice of difficulties. Gen. Washington not only kept his army together, but conducted with so much discretion as to command the approbation both of the army and of the citizens. Nothing of decisive importance could be attempted with an army so badly provided, and so deficient in numbers. It did not exceed 13,000 men, while the British, strongly fortified in New York and Rhode Island, amounted to 16 or 17,000. These were supported by a powerful fleet, which, by commanding the coasts and the rivers, furnished easy means for concentrating their force in any given point be- fore the Americans could march to the same. This disparity was particularly striking in the movements of the two ar- mies in the vicinity of the Hudson. Divisions of both were frequently posted on each side of that noble river. While the British could cross directly over and unite their forces in any enterprise, the Americans could not safely effect a correspondent junction, unless they took a considerable cir- cuit to avoid the British shipping. To preserve West Point and its dependencies, was a pri- mary object with Washington. To secure these he was obliged to refuse the pressing applications from the neigh- bouring states for large detachments from the continental *i04 THE LIFE OF army for their local defence. Early in the year, Sir Henry Clinton made some movements up the North River, which "indicated an intention of attacking the posts in the High- lands ; but in proportion as these were threatened, Wash- ington concentrated his force for their defence. This was done so effectually, that no serious direct attempt was made upon them. Clinton, hoping to allure the Americans from these fortresses, sent detachments to burn and lay waste the towns on the coast of Connecticut. This was done exten- sively. Norwalk, Fairfield, and New London, were destroy- ed. Washington, adhering to the principle of sacrificing small objects to secure great ones, gave no more aid to the suffering inhabitants than was compatible with the security of West Point. Though the force under his immediate command throughout the campaign of 1779, was unequal to any great undertaking, yet his active mind sought for and embraced such opportunities for offensive operations, as might be attempted without hazarding too much. The principal expedition of this kind, was directed against the Six Nations of Indians, who inhabited the fertile coun- try between the western settlements of New York and Penn- sylvania, and the lakes of Canada. These, from their vi- cinity and intercourse with the white people, had attained a degree of civilization exceeding what was usual among savages. To them, many refugee tories had fled, and di- rected them to the settlements, which they laid waste, and at the same time massacred the inhabitants. In the early period of Washington's life, while commander of the Vir- ginia troops, he had ample experience of the futility of forts for defence against Indians, and of the superiour advantage of carrying offensive operations into their towns and settle- ments. An invasion of the country of the Six Nations being resolved upon, the commander in chief bestowed much thought on the best mode of conducting it. The instruc- tions he gave to Gen. Sullivan, who was appointed to this service, were very particular, and much more severe than was usual, but not more so than retaliation justified, or po- licy recommended. Sullivan, with a considerable force, penetrated into the country of the Indians in three direc- tions, laid waste their crops, and burnt their towns. His success was decisive, and in a great measure secured the future peace of the frontier settlements. The late residence I^EOITGE WASHINGTON. 105 of the savages was rendered so far uninhabitable, that they were reduced to the necessity of seeking an asylum in the more remote western country. While the British were laying waste Connecticut, Wash* ington, after reconnoitering the ground in person, planned an expedition against Stony Point, a commanding hill, pro<. jecting far into the Hudson, on the top of which a fort had been erected, which was garrisoned with about 600 men. One of the motives for assaulting this work, was the hope that, if successful, it might induce the detachment which had invaded Connecticut, to desist from their devastations, and to return to the defence of their own outposts. The enterprise was assigned to Gen. Wayne, who completely succeeded in reducing the fort and capturing its garrison.* Sir Henry Clinton, on receiving intelligence of Wayne's success, relinquished his views on Connecticut, and made a forced march to Dobb's ferry, twenty. six miles above New York. The reduction of Stony Point was speedily followed by the surprise of the British garrison at Paulus Hoek. This was first conceived and planned by Major Henry Lee.f On being submitted to Gen. Washington, he favoured the enterprise, but withheld his full assent, till he was satisfied of the practicability of a retreat, of which serious doubts were entertained. Lee, with 300 men, entered the fort about three o'clock in the morning, and with very incon- siderable loss, took 159 prisoners, and brought them off in safety from the vicinity of large bodies of the enemy. The reasons already mentioned, for avoiding all hazard- ous offensive operations, were strongly enforced by a well founded expectation that a French fleet would appear on the coast, in the course of the year 1779. Policy required that the American army should be reserved for a co-opera. tion with their allies. The fleet,:j: as expected, did arrive, * This signal and brilliant victory was gained with the point of the bayonet alone, and with the loss of fifteen men killed, and the G^enera! (Wayne) and eighty-three wounded ; while on the part of the enemy, five hundred soldiers and twenty officers were killed, wounded, and taken prisoners, with all their cannon, arms, miUtary stores and provisions. t Commander of the celebrated troop of Virginia light horse. t This was the fleet of the Count D'Estaing, who after leaving Boston the fall previous, proceeded to the West Indies, where he took St. Vincent and Grenada, and had an engagement with the British fleet under Ad- 10 106 THE LIFE OP but in the vicinity of Georgia. The French troops, in conjunction with the southern army commanded by Gen. Lincoln, made an unsuccessful attempt on the British post in Savannah. This town had been reduced in December, 1778, by Col. Campbell, who had proceeded so far as to re- establish British authority in the state of Georgia. Soon after the defeat of the combined forces before Savannah, and the departure of the French fleet from the coast, Sir Henry Clinton proceeded with the principal part of his army to Charleston, and confined his views in New York to defen- sive operations. The campaign of 1779 terminated in the northern states, as has been related, without any great events on either side. Washington defeated all the projects of the British for getting possession of the Highlands. The Indians were scourged, and a few brilliant strokes kept the publick mind from despondence. The Americans went into winter quar- ters when the month of December was far advanced. These were chosen for the convenience of wood, water, and pro- visions, and with an eye to the protection of the country. To this end, the army was thrown into two grand divisions. The northern was put under the command of Gen. Heath, and stationed with a view to the security of West Point, its dependencies, and the adjacent country. The other retired to Morristown in New Jersey. In this situation, which was well calculated to secure the country to the southward of New York, Washington, with the principal division of his army, took their station for the winter. The season fol- lowing their retirement, was uncommonly severe. The British in New York and Staten Island no longer enjoyed the security which their insular situation usually afforded. The former suffered from the want of fuel, and other supplies from the country. To add to their difficulties, Washington so disposed his troops as to give the greatest possible obstruc- tion to the communication between the British garrison, and such of the inhabitants without their lines as were disposed to supply their wants. This brought on a partisan war, in which individuals were killed, but without any national effect. Had Washington been supported as he desired, the miral Byron, in which the Count claimed the victory, and so many of the British ships were disabled that the Admiral was compelled to re- tire into port, in order to refit. QEORGE WASHINGTON. lOf V/eakness of the British army, in consequence of their large detachments to the southward, in conjunction with the severity of the winter, would have given him an opportuni- ty for indulging his native spirit of enterprise. But he durst not attempt any thing on a grand scale, for his army was not only inferiour in number to that opposed to him, but so destitute of clothing as to be unequal to a winter campaign. CHAP. v[r. CAMPAIGN OF 1780. Gen. Washington directs an expedition against Staten Island. Gives an opinion against risking an army for the defence of Charleston, S. C. Finds great difficulty in supporting his army. Kniphausen invades Jersey, but is prevented from injuring the American stores. Marquis de La Fayette arrives, and gives assurance that a French fleet and army might soon be expected on the American coast. Energetick measures of co-operation resolved upon, but so languidly executed, that Wash- ington predicts the necessity of a more efficient system of national government. A French fleet and army arrives, and a combined ope- ration against New York is resolved upon, but the arrival of a superiour British fleet, deranges the whole plan. 1780. The military estalishment for the year 1780, was nomi- nally 35,000 ; but these were not voted till the 9th of Feb- ruary, and were not required to be in camp before the first of April following. Nothwithstanding these embarrass- ments, the active mind of Washington looked round for an opportunity of deriving some advantage from the present exposed situation of his adversary. From recent intelli- gence, he supposed that an attack on about 1,200 British, posted on Staten Island, might be advantageously made, especially in its present state of union with the continent, by an unbroken body of solid ice. The prospect of success depended on the chance of a surprise ; and if this failed, of reducing the enemy, though retired within their fortifica- tions, before reinforcements could arrive from New York. The vigilence of the commanding officer prevented the first ; the latter could not be depended on ; for, contrary to the first received intelligence, the communication between the 308 THE LIFE OF island and the city, though difficult, was practicable. The works were too strong for an assault, and rehef too near to- admit of the' delays of a siege. Lord Stirling,* with 2,500 men, entered the island on the night of the 14th of January. An alarm was instantly and generally communicated to the posts, and a boat despatched to New York to communicate intelligence, and to solicit aid. The Americans, after some slight skirmishes, seeing no prospect of success and apprehen- sive that a reinforcement from New York might endanger their safety, very soon commenced their retreat. This was effected without any considerable loss ; but from the in- tenseness of the cold, and deficiency of warm clothing, several were frostbitten. Soon after this event, the siege of Charleston commenced, and was so vigorously carried on by Sir Henry Clinton, as to effect the surrender of that place on the 12th of May, 1780. Gen. Washington, at the distance of more than eight hundred miles, could have no personal agency in de- fending that most important southern mart. What was in his power was done, for he weakened himself by detaching from the army under his own immediate command, the troops of North Carolina, the new levies of Virginia, and the remnants of the southern cavalry. Though he had never been in Charleston, and was without any personal knowledge of its harbour, yet he gave an opinion respecting it, which evinced the soundness of his practical judgement. In every other case, the defence of towns had been abandoned, so far as to risk no armies for that purpose ; but in South Car- olina, Gen. Lincoln, for reasons that were satisfactory to his superiours, adopted a different line of conduct. Four * This general with an arisiocratick title, whose name occurs so often in these pages, was nevertheless a sterling republican. He was origin- ally a respectable merchant, in the city of New York, by the name of William Alexander, of Scotch descent. He married into the Livingston family. In 1757, being in England, he was induced to lay claim to the Scottish Earldom of Stirling, of which h§ bore the family name, and which had been without an owner since 1739. He established his direct descent, before a jury of service, according to the Scottish law; and in consequence of this, believing his claim certain, the title was bestowed upon him by his friends, and adopted by himself. The British House of Lords subsequently decided against his claim ; but he retained the title to the end of his life. He warmly and sincerely espoused the American cause, and distinguished himself in several engagements, more particu- larly at the battle of Monmouth. He died at Albany, while in chief com- mand of the northern department, Jan. f5ih 1783. GfiOEGK WASiilNGTON. 109 eontineSital frigates were ordered to the defence of Charles- ton, and stationed within its bar ; nnd a considerable state marine force co-operated with them. This new mode of defence was the more readily adopted, on the generally re- ceived idea, that this marine force could be so disposed of within the bar, as to make effectual opposition to the British ships attempting to cross it. In the course of the siege this was found to be impracticable, and all ideas of disputing the passage of the bar were given up. This state of things being communicated by Lieut. Col. John Laurens to Geni Washington, the General replied — "The impracticability of defending the bar, I fear, amounts to the loss of the town and garrison. At this distance, it is impossible to judge for you. I have the greatest confidence in Gen. Lincoln's prudence ; but it really appears to me, that the propriety of attempting to defend the town, depended on the probability of defending the bar, and that when this ceased^ the attempt ought to have been relinquished. In this, however, I suspend a definitive judgement ; and wish you to consider what I say as confidential," The event corresponded with the Gener- al's predictions. The British vessels, after crossing the bar without opposition, passed the forts and took such a station in Cooper river, as, in conjunction with the land forcesj made the evacuation of the town by the Americans impos- sible, and finally produced the surrender of their whole southern army. When intelligence of this catastrophe reached the north- ern states, the American army was in the greatest distress. This had been often represented to Congress, and was par- ticularly stated to Gen. Schuyler in a letter from Gen. Washington, in the following words : " Since the date of my last, we have had the virtue and patience of the army put to the severest trial. Sometimes it has been five or six days together without bread ; at other times as many days without meat ; and once or twice tv,^ or three days without either. I hardly thought it possible, at one period, that we should be able to keep it together, nor could it have been done but for the exertions of the magistrates in the several counties of this state, on whom I was obliged to call ; ex- pose our situation to them ; and, in plain terms, declare that we were reduced to the alternative of disbanding or cater- ing for ourselves^ unless the inhabitants would afford us their 10* 101 THE LIFE OF aid. I allotted to each county a certain proportion of flour or grain, and a certain number of cattle, to be delivered on certain days ; and, for the honour of the magistrates, and the good disposition of the people, I must add, that my re^ quisitions were punctually complied with, and in many counties exceeded. Nothing but this great exertion could have saved the army from dissolution or starving, as we were bereft of every hope from the commissaries. At one time the soldiers eat every kind of horse food but hay. Buckwheat, common wheat, rye, and Indian corn, composed the meai' which made their bread. As an army, they bore it with most heroic patience ; but sufferings like these, ac- companied by the want of clothes, blankets, &c. will pro- duce frequent desertion in all armies ; and so it happened with us, though it did not excite a single mutiny."* The paper money with which the troops were paid, was in a state of depreciation daily increasing. The distresses from this source, though felt in 1778, and still more so in 1779, did not arrive to the highest pitch till the year 1780. Under the pressure of sufferings from this cause, the officers of the Jersey line addressed a memorial to their state legis- lature, setting forth "that four months pay of a private, would not procure for his family a single bushel of wheat : that the pay of a colonel would not purchase oats for his horse ; that a common labourer or express rider, received * The annexed anecdote, by way of a more pleasant illuatration, is re- lated by Thatcher, under date of " Morristow7i, January 1st, 1780.— A new year commences, but brings no relief to the sufferinjrs and privations- of our army. Our canvass covering affords but a miserable security from storms of rain and snow, and a great scarcity of provisions still prevails, and its effects are felt even at Head Quarters, as appears by the following anecdote. ' We have nothing but die rations to cook, Sir,' said Mrs. Thomson, a very worthy Inshwomari and housekeeper (o Gen. Wash- ington. • Well, Mrs. Thomson, you must then cook the rations, for I have not a farthing to give you.' ' If you please. Sir, let one of the gen- tlemen give me an order for six bushels of salt.' ' Six bushels of salt, for what?' ' To preserve the fresh beef, Sir.' One of the aids gave the order, and the next day his excellency's table was amply provided. Mr^. Thomson was sent for, and told that she had done very wrong to expend her own money, for it was not known when she could he repaid. ' I owe you,' said his excellency, ' too much already to permit the debt being increased, and our situation is not at this moment such as to induce very sanguine hope.' * Dear Sir, said the good old lady, 'it is always darkest juBt before daylight, and I hope your excellency will forgive me for bar- tering the salt for other necessaries which are now on the table.' Salt was eight dollars a bushel, and it might always be exchanged with the country people for articles of provision." GEORGE WASHINGTOIC. 11 T four times as much as an A?Tierican officer." They urged that " unless a speedy and ample remedy was provided, the total dissolution of their line was inevitable." In addition- to the insufficiency of their pay and support, other causes of discontent prevailed. The original idea of a continental army to be raised, paid, subsisted, and regulated, upon au equal and uniform principle, had been in a great measure exchanged for state establishments. This mischievous measure partly originated from necessity ; for state credit was not quite so much depreciated as continental. Con. gress not possessing the means of supporting their army, devolved the business on the component parts of the con- federacy*. Some states, from their internal ability and local advantages, furnished their troops not only with clothing, but with many conveniencies. Others supplied them witb- some necessaries, but on a more contracted scale. A few, from their particular situation, could do little, or nothing at all. The officers and men in the routine of duty mixed daily, and compared circumstances. Those who fared worse than others, were dissatisfied with a service which made such injurious distinctions. From causes of this kind, superadded to a complication of wants and sufTeringSf a disposition to mutiny began to show itself in the Amer- ican army. Very few of the officers were rich. To make an appearance suitable to their station, required an expend- iture of the little all which most of them possessed. The supplies from the publick were so inadequate as to compel frequent resignations. The officers of whole lines announ- ced their determination to quit the service. The personal influence of Gen. Washington was exerted with the officers in preventing their adoption of such ruinous measures, and with the states to remove the causes which led to them. Soon after the surrender of the whole southern army, and at the moment the northern was in the greatest distress for the necessaries of life. Gen. Kniphausen passed from New- York into New Jersey with 5000 men. These were soon reinforced with a detachment of the victorious troops returned with Sir Henry Clinton from South Carolina, ft is difficult to tell what was the precise object of this expe- dition. Perhaps the royal commanders hoped to get pos-- session of Morristown, and destroy the American stores. Perhaps they flattered themselves that the inhabitants, die-. 112 THE LIFE OF pirited by the recent fall of Charleston, would submit with- out resistance ; and that the soldiers would desert to the royal standard. Sundry movements took place on both sides, and also smart skirmishes, but without any decisive effect. At one time Washington conjectured that the de- struction of his stores was the object of the enemy ; at ano- ther, that the whole was a feint to draw off his attention, while they pushed up the North river from New York, to attack West Point. The American army was stationed with a view to both objects. The security of the stores was attended to, and such a position taken, as would compel the British to fight under great disadvantages, if they risked a general action to get at them. The American General Howe, who Commanded at the Highlands, was ordered to Concentrate his force for the security of West Point ; and Washington with the principal division of his army, took such a middle position, as enabled him either to fall back to defend his stores, or to advance for the defence of West l^oint, as circumstances might require. The first months of the year were spent in these desultory operations. The disasters to the south produced no disposition in the north to give up the contest ; but the tardiness of Congress and bf the states 5 the weakness of government, and the depre- ciation of the money, deprived Washington of all means of attempting any thing beyond defensive operations. In this state of languor Marquis de La Fayette arrived from France,* with assurances that a French fleet and army might soon be expected on the coast. This roused the Americans from that lethargy into which they seemed to be sinking. Requisitions on the states for men and money,- Were urged with uncommon earnestness. Washington, iU his extensive correspondence throughout the United States, endeavoured to stimulate the publick mind to such exertions as the approaching crisis required. In addition to argu- Inents formerly used, he endeavoured on this occasion, by a temperate view of European politicks, to convince his coun. trymen of the real danger of their independence, if they neglected to improve the advantages they might obtain by *The Marquis had left America the year previous, with the ostensible design of entering the French service upon the continent; but, in reality, for the purpose of urging upon the French government more efficient aid, in men and money, to the American cause. In these efforts he was per- severing and successful, and had now returned to consummate his patri- otick services. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 113 a great and manly effort, in conjunction with the succours expected from France. The resolutions of Congress for this purpose were slowly executed. The quotas assigned to the several states were by their respective legislatures appor- tioned on the several counties and towns. These divisions were again subdivided into classes, and each class was called upon to furnish a man. This predominance of state sys- tems over those which were national, was foreseen and lamented by the commander in chief In a letter to a mem- ber of the national legistature he observed, "that unless- Congress speaks in a more decisive tone ; unless they are vested with powers by the several states competent to the great purposes of the war, or assume them as matter of right, and they and the states respectively act with more energy than hitherto they have done ; our cause is lost. We can no longer drudge on in the old way. By ill-timing the adoption of measures ; by delays in the execution of them, or by unwarrantable jealousies, we incur enormous expenses, and derive no benefit. One state will comply with a requi- sition from Congress ; another neglects to do it ; a third executes it by halves ; and all differ in the manner, the mat- ter, or so much in point of time, that we are always working up hill ; and while such a system as the present one, or rather want of one, prevails, we ever shall be unable to apply our strength or resources to any advantage." " This, my dear sir, is plain language to a member of Congress ; but it is the language of truth and friendship. It is the result of long thinking, close application, and strict observation. I see one head gradually changing into thir- teen ; I see one army branching into thirteen ; and, instead of looking up to Congress as the supreme controHing power of the United States, considering themselves as dependent on their respective states. In a word, I see the power of Congress declining too fast for the consequence and respect which are due to them as the great representative body of America, and am fearful of the consequences." From the embarrassments which cramped the operations of Washington, a partial temporary relief was obtained from private sources. When Congress could neither com- mand money nor credit for the subsistence of their army, the citizens of Philadelphia formed an association to procure a supply of necessary articles for their suffering soldiers^ 114 tHE LIfE OF the sum of 300,000 dollars was subscribed in a few days»- and converted into a bank, the principal design of which was to piircliase provisions for the troops in the most prompt and efficacious manner. Tiie advantages of this institution were great, and particularly enhanced by tiie critical time in which it was instituted. The Ladies of Philadelphia, about tlie same time, sub* scribed larged donations for the immediate relief of the suf- fering soldiers.* These supplies, though liberal, were far short of u sufficiency for the army. So late as the 20th of June, Gen. Washington informed Congress that he still la- boured under the painful and humiliating embarrassment of having no shirts to deliver to the troops, many of whom were absolutely destitute of that necessary article ; nor were they much better supplied with summer overalls. " For the troops to be without clothing at any time, he added, is highly injurious to the service, and distressing to our feelings ; but the want will be more peculiarly mortifying when they come to act with those of our allies. If it be possible, I have no doubt immediate measures will be taken to relieve their distress." " It is also most sincerely to be wished that there could be some supplies of clothing furnished to the officers. There are a great many whose condition is miserable. This is, in some instances, the case with whole lines. It would be well for their own sakes, and for the publick good, if they could be furnished. They will not be able, when our friends come to co-operate with us, to go on a common rou- tine of duty ; and if they should, they must from their ap. pearance be held in low estimation." The complicated arrangements for raising and support- ing the American army, which was voted for the campaign, were so tardily executed that when the summer was far advanced, Washington was uninformed of the force on which he might rely ; and of course could not fix on any * Gen. La Fayette put down the name of his wife for a subscription of one hundred guineas. Chastollux states, that on visitinsr Mrs. Bache, the daughter of Dr. Franklin, he was shown into a room filled with shirts which had been made for the soldiers, by the ladies of Philadelphia.— "The ladies bought the linen from their own private purses, and took a pleasure in cutting them out and sewing them themselves. On each shirt was the name of the married or unmarried lady who made it, and tUey amounted to 2200." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 115 certain plan of operations for the combined armies. In a letter to Congress he expressed his embarrassment in the following words — " The season is come when we have every reason to expect the arrival of the fleet ; and yet for want of this point of primary consequence, it is impossible for me to form a system of co-operation. T have no basis to act upon, and of course were this generous succour of our ally now to arrive, I should find myself in the most awkward, embarrassing and painful situation. The General and the Admiral, as soon as they approach our coast, will require of me a plan of the measures to be pursued, and there ought of right to be one prepared ; but circumstanced as I am, I cannot even give them conjectures. From these considera- tions I yesterda)^ suggested to the committee the indispen- sable necessity of their writing again to the states, urging them to give immediate and precise information of the measures they have taken, and of the result. The interest of the states — the honour and reputation of our councils — the justice and gratitude due to our allies — all require that I should without delay be enabled to ascertain and inform them what we can or cannot undertake. There is a point which ought now to be determined, on the success of which all our future operations may depend ; on which, for want of knowing our prospects, I can make no decision. For fear of involving the fleet and army of our allies in circumstances which would expose them, if not seconded by us, to material inconvenience and hazard, I shall be compelled to suspend it, and the delay may be fatal to our hopes." In this state of uncertainty, Washington meditated by night and day on the various contingencies which were probable. He revolved the possible situations in which the contending armies might be placed, and endeavoured to pre- pare for every plan of combined operations which future contingent events might render adviseable. On the 10th of July the expected French fleet and army appeared on the coast of Rhode Island. The former consist- ed of seven sail of the line, five frigates, and five smaller vessels. The latter of 6,000 men. The Chevalier Terney and Count Rochambeau, who commanded the fleet and army, immediately transmitted to Gen. Washington an account of their arrival, of their strength, their expectations, and orders. At that time not more than one thousand men had 116 THE LIFE OF joined the American army. A commander of no tnore than common firmness, would have resigned his commission in disgust, for not being supported by his country. Very dif- ferent was the line of conduct adopted by Washington. Trusting that the promised support would be forwarded with all possible despatch, he sent on to the French commanders by the Marquis de La Fayette, definite proposals for com- mencing the siege of New York. Of this he gave informa- tion to Congress in a letter, in the following words: "Pressed on all sides by a choice of difficulties, in a moment which required decision, I have adopted that line of conduct which comported with the dignity and faith of Congress, the repu- tation of these states, and the honour of our arms. I have sent on definitive proposals of co-operation to the French Ge- neral and Admiral. Neither the period of the season, nor a regard to decency, would permit delay. The die is cast ; and it remains with the states either to fulfil their engagements^ preserve their credit, and support their independence, or to involve us in disgrace and defeat. Notwithstanding the fail- ures pointed out by the committee, I shall proceed on the supposition that they will ultimately consult their own inter- est and honour, and not suffer us to fail for the want of means, which it is evidently in their power to afford. What has been done, and is doing by some of the states, confirms the opinion I have entertained, of sufficient resources in the country. Of the disposition of the people to submit to any arrangement for bringing them forth, I see no reasonable ground to doubt. If we fail for want of proper exertions in any of the governments, I trust the responsibility will fall where it ought, and that I shall stand justified to Congress, my country, and the world." The fifth of the next month, August,, was named as the day when the French troops should embark, and the Amer- ican army assemble in Morrisania, for the purpose of com- mencing their combined operations. Very soon after the arrival of the French fleet. Admiral Greaves reinforced the British naval force in the harbour of New York, with six ships of the line. Hitherto the French had a naval supe- riority. Without it, all prospect of success in the proposed attack on New York was visionary ; but this being suddenly and unexpectedly reversed, the plan for combined operations became eventual. The British Admiral having now the GEORGE WASHINGTON. 117 stiperlority, proceeded to Rhode Island to attack the French in that quarter. He soon discovered that the French were perfectly secure from any attack by sea. Sir Henry Clin- ton, who had returned in the preceding moniii with his vic- torious troops from Charleston, embarked about 8,000 of his best men, and proceeded as far as Huntingdon Bay, on Long Island, with the apparent design of concurring with the British fleet in attacking the French force at Rhode Island. When this movement took place, Washington set his army in motion, and proceeded to Peekskill. Had Sir Henry Clinton prosecuted what appeared to be his design, Washington intended to have attacked New York in his absence. Preparations were made for this purpose, but Sir Henry Clinton instantly turned about from Huntingdon Bay towards New York. In the mean time, the French fleet and army being blocked up at Rhode Island, were incapacitated from co-operating with the Americans. Hopes were nevertheless indulged, that by the arrival of another fleet of his Most Christian Majesty, then in the West Indies, under the command of Count de Guichen, the superiority would be so much in favour of the allies, as to enable them to prosecute their original intention of attacking New York. When the ex- pectations of the Americans were raised to the highest pitch, and when they were in great forwardness of preparation to act in concert with their allies, intelligence arrived that Count de Guichen had sailed for France. This disappoint- ment was extremely mortifying. Washington still adhered to his purpose of attacking New York at some future more favourable period. On this subject he corresponded with the French commanders, and had a personal interview with them on the twenty. first of September, at Hartford.* The arrival of Admiral Rodney ♦ During the absence of Gen, Washington, accompanied by Generals La Fayette and Knox, at this interview, the treason of Benedict Arnold was consummated ; and, on their return, discovered. Arnold had for eighteen months meditated treason ; and sought the command of West Point, for the purpose of delivering up that important post to the enemy. He had corresponded with the Bntish General, Sir Henry Clinton, who assigned the management of the affair to his aid-de-camp. Major Andre. When Gen. Washington crossed the Hudson, Sept. 18th, on his way to Hartford, Arnold showed him a letter from Col. Robinson, on board' the British sloop of war Vulture, then at anchor at King's Perry, about twelve miles below West Point, which requested an interview with him, to confer 11 118 THE LIFE OF on the American coast, a short time after, witji eleven ships of the line, disconcerted for that season, all the plans of the aljies. Washington felt with infinite regret, a succession of abortive projects throughout the campaign of 1780. In upon some private affairs. Washington told him to refuse the rendezvous. He then sought a private interview with Andre, which took place on the night of the 21st, at the house of one Smith, near Long Clove. Andre, not being able, as he desired, to return on board the Vulture, was fur- nished by Arnold with a passport, under the assumed name of John An- derson ; and, disguised, attempted to return to New York on horseback, when he was captured near Tarrytown, by Paulding, WiUiams, and Van Wart, as is recorded in the history of the times. The papers found on Andre being exact returns of the forces, and other particulars in Arnold's handwriting, furnished sufficient proofs of his guilt; but Col. Jameson, commander of the American frontier post, into whose hands Andre was delivered by his captors, not having read the papers, or astonished be- yond a comprehension of their nature, wrote lo Arnold, informhig him of "John Anderson's" arrest. Soon after, becoming sensible of the errour of this step, he despatched an express to meet General Washington, then known to be on his return from Hartford, with the particulars, and a letter from Andre, avowing his true character. This express took a dif- ferent road from that by which the General was returning, and therefore missed of its object. Washington arrived in the vicinity of Arnold's house, which was on the east side of ihe river, on the morning of the 25th ; and would have been present when Arnold received Jameson's letter, informing him of Andre's arrest, had he nor turned aside with Generals La Fayette and Knox, for the purpose of examhiing a redoubt. Colonels Hamilton and M'Henry, aids to Gen. Washington and La Fayette, had gone on before to request Mrs, Arnold not to wait breakfast for them. In their presence, Arnold received Jameson's letter. He turned pale, re- tired to his room, and sent for his wife, who fainted. Without returning ta the drawing room, he mounted his aid-de- camp's horse, which stood ready saddled at the door, and leaving word for Gen. Washington, that he would wait for him at West Point, hurried to the bank of the river, got on board his barge, and was rowed on board the Vulture. Washington arrived soon after, and supposing Arnold had gone to West Point to pre- pare for his reception, without entering into the house, passed over the river, but was surprised in not meeting Arnold there, as he expected. He returned to Arnold's house, to dinner, where he found Mrs. Arnold, con- fined to her chamber, in the utmost agony of mind, and deprived of her reason. He then first had a suspicion, which he avowed to Col. Lamb, that Arnold had deserted to the enemy. About two hours after, the ex- press of Col. Jameson arrived, with a disclosure of the facts. Thus was providentially arrested a diabolical treason, which might have proved fatal to the American cause; for had Andre escaped. West Point, together with the Commander in Chief of the American army, with Generals La Fayette and Knox, and suite, might have been betrayed into the hands of the enemy. Such, probably, was the double design of the traitor. Andre, in whose behalf much sympathy was excited, it is well known, was tried, condemned, and executed as a spy. Arnold received a commission in the British army, and became, for the remainder of the war, one of the most active and vindictive enemies of the American cause : but ha lived despised as well by those he served, as those he attempted to betray, and his memory is held in execration by all mankind. GEORGE WASaiNGTON. 119 that year, and not before, he had indulged the hope of happily terminating the war. In a letter to a friend, he wrote as follows ; " We are now drawing to a close an inactive cam- paign, the beginning of which appeared pregnant with events of a very favourable complexion. I hoped, but I hoped in vain, that a prospect was opening which would enable me to fix a period to my military pursuits, and restore me to domestick life. The favourable disposition of Spain ; the promised succour from France ; the combined force in the West Indies ; the declaration of Russia, (acceded to by other powers of Europe, humiliating the naval pride and power of Great Britain ;) the superiority of France and Spain by sea, in Europe ; the Irish claims, and English disturbances, formed in the aggregate an opinion in my breast, (which is not very susceptible of peaceful dreams ;) that the hour of deliverance was not far distant ; for that, however unwilling Great Britain might be to yield the point, it would not be in her power to continue the contest. But, alas ! these prospects, flattering as they were, have proved delusory ; and I see nothing before us but accumulating distress. We have been half of our time without provisions, and are likely to continue so. We have no magazines, nor money to form them. We have lived upon expedients until we can live no longer. In a word, the history of the war is a history of false hopes and temporary devices, instead of system and economy. It is in vain, however, to look back ; nor is it our business to do so. Our case is not des- perate, if virtue exists in the people, and there is wisdom among our rulers.* But to suppose that this great revolu- * Of the unwavering confidence of Washington, in the cause he had espoused, the following incident, related in the memoirs of Count Mathieu Dumas, who was an aid-de-camp to Gen. Rochambeau, and distinguished himself in the decisive campaign of 1781, in Virginia, is an interesting illustration : " General Washington, accompanied by the Marquis de La Fayette, repaired in person to tne French head quarters. We had been impatient to see the hero of liberty. His dignified address, his simplicity of manners, and mild gravity, surpassed our expectation, and won every heart. After having conferred with Count Rochambeau, as he was leav- ing us to return to his head quarters near West Point, I received the wel- come order to accompany him as far as Providence. We arrived there at night ; the whole of the population had assembled from the suburbs; we were surrounded by a crowd of children carrying torches, reiterating the acclamations of the citizens : all were eager to approach the person of him whom they called their father, and pressed so closely around us that they itindered us from proceeding. General Washington was much affected, 120 THE LIFE OF tion can be accomplished by a temporary army ; that this army will be subsisted by state supplies ; and that taxation alone is adequate to our wants, is, in my opinion absurd." CHAP. VIII. CAMPAIGN OF 1781. The Pennsylvania line mutinies. The Jersey troops follow their example, but are quelled by decisive measures. Gen. Washington commences a rniUtary journal, detailing the wants and distresses of his army. Is invited to the defence of his native state, Virginia, but decUnes. Rep- rimands the manager of his private estate for furnishing the enemy with supplies, to prevent the destruction of his property. Extinguishes the incipient flames of a civil war, respecting the independence of the state of Vermont. Plans a combined operation against the British, and deputes Lieut. Col. John Laurens to solicit the co-operation of the French. The combined forces of both nations rendezvous in the Ches- apeake, and take Lord Cornwallis and his aimy prisoners of war. Washington returns to the vicinity of New York, and urges the neces- sity of preparing for a new campaign. 1781, The year 1780 ended in the northern states with disap- pointment, and the year 1781 commenced with mutiny. In the night of the first of January about 1,300 of the Pennsylvania line paraded under arms in their encampment, near Morristown, avowing a determination to march to the seat of Congress, and obtain a redress of their grievances, without which they would serve no longer. The exertions of Gen. Wayne and the other officers to quell the mutiny, were in vain. The whole body marched off with six field- pieces towards Princeton. They stated their demands in writing ; which were, a discharge to all who had served three years, and immediate payment of all that was due to them, and that future pay should be made in real money to all who remained in the service. Their officers, a com- mittee of Congress, and a deputation from the executive council of Pennsylvania, endeavoured to effect an accom- modation ; but the mutineers resolutely refused all terms, of which a redress of their grievances was not the foundation. ^topped a few moments, and pressing my hand, said, ' We may be beaten by the English— it is the chance of war; but behold an army which they can never conquer.' " i&EofeGE Washington. 12l To their demands as founded in justice, the civil authority of Pennsylvania substantially yielded. Intelligence of this mutiny was communicated to Gen. Washington at New Windsor, before any accommodation had taken place. Though he had been long accustomed to decide in hazardous ■and difficult situations, yet it was no easy matter in this delicate crisis, to determine on the most proper course to be ^pursued. His personal influence had several times extin- vguished rising nautinies. The first scheme that presented itself was, to repair to the camp of the mutineers, and try to recall them to a sense of their duty ; but on mature reflec- tion this was declined. He well knew that their claims were founded in justice, but he could not reconcile himself to wound the discipline of his army, by yielding to their de- mands while they were in open revolt with arms in their hands. He viewed the subject in all its relations, and was well apprised that the principal grounds of discontent were not peculiar to the Pennsylvania line, but common to all his troops. If force Avas requisite, he had none to spare without hazarding West Point. If concessions were unavoidable, they had bettier be made by any person than the comman- der in chief After that due deliberation which he always gave to matters of importance, he determined against a personal interference, and to leave the whole to the civil authorities, which had already taken it up ^ but at the same time prepared for those measures which would become ne- cessary, if no accommodation took place. This resolution was communicated to Gen. Wayne, with a caution to regard the situation of the other lines of the army in any conces- sions which might be made, and with a recommendation to draw the mutineers over the Delaware, with a view to in- crease the difficulty of communicating with the enemy in New York. The dangerous policy of yielding even to the just demands of soldiers with arms in their hands, soon became apparent-. The success of the Pennsylvania line induced a part of that of New Jersey to hope for similar advantages, frora similar conduct. A part of the Jersey brigade rose in arms, and making the same claims which had been yielded to the Pennsylvanians, marched to Chatham. Washington, *who Yi'as far from being pleased with the issue of the mutiny 11* 122 THE LIFE OF in the Pennsylvania line, determined by strong meastfres to stop the progress of a spirit which was hostile to all his hopes. Gen. Howe, with a detachment of the eastern troops, was immediately ordered to march against the mutineers, and instructed to make no terms with them while they were in a state of resistance ; and on their surrender to seize a few of the most active leaders, and to execute them immedi. ately in the presence of their associates. These orders were obeyed : two of the ringleaders were shot, and the survivors returned to their duty. Though Washington adopted these decisive measures^ yet no man was more sensible of the merits and sufferings of his army, and none more active and zealous in procuring them justice. He improved the late events, by writing cir- cular letters to the states, urging them to prevent all future causes of discontent by fulfilling their engagements with their respective lines. Some good effects were producedy but only temporary, and far short of the well founded claims of the army. Their wants with respect to provisions were only partially supplied, and by expedients, from one short time to another. The most usual was ordering an officer to seize on provisions wherever found. This differed from robbing only in its being done by authority for the publick service, and in the officer being always directed to give the proprietor a certificate of the quantity and quality of what was taken from him. At first, some reliance was placed on these certificates, as vouchers to support a future demand on the United States ; but they soon became so common as to be of little value. Recourse was so frequently had to coercion, both legislative and military, that the people not only lost confidence in publick credit, but became impatient under all exertions of authority for forcing their property from them. About this time Gen. Washington was obliged to apply 9,000 dollars sent by the state of Massachusetts, for the payment; of her troops, to the use of the quartermaster's department, to enable him to transport provisions from the adjacent states. Before he consented to adopt this expedient, he had consumed every ounce of provision which had been kept as a reserve in the garrison of West Point, and had strained impress by military force to so great an extent, that there was reason to apprehend the inhabitants, irritated by such frequent calls, would pro<^ GEORGE WASHINGTON. 123 ceed to dangerous insurrections. Fort Schuyler, West Point, and the posts up the North River, were on the point of being abandoned by their starving garrisons. At this period there was Httle or no circulating medium, either in the form of paper or specie, and in the neighbourhood of the American arm^v, there was a real want of necessary provisions. The deficiency of the former occasioned many inconveniences, but the insufficiency of the latter had well nigh dissolved the army, and laid the country in every di» rection open to British excursions. On the first of May, 1781, Gen. Washington commenced a military journal. The following statement is extracted from it. "I begin at this epoch a concise journal of military transactions, &c. I lament not having attempted it from the commencement of the war, in aid of my memory : and wish the multiplicity of matter which continually sur- rounds me, and the embarrassed state of our afi^iirs, which is momentarily calling the attention to perplexities of one kind or another, may nat defeat altogether, or so interrupt my present intention and plan, as to render it of little avail. " To have the clearer understanding of the entries which may follow, it would be proper to recite in detail our wants and our prospects j but this alone would be a work of much time and great magnitude. It may suffice to give the sura of them, which I shall do in few words : viz^ " Instead of having magazines filled with provisions, we have a scanty pittance scattered here and there in the dis- tant states." "Instead of having our arsenals well supplied with milita=^ ry stores, they are poorly provided, and the workmen all leaving them. Instead of having the various articles of field equipage in readiness, the Quartermaster-general is but now applying to the several states to provide these things for their troops respectively. Instead of having a regular system of transportation established upon credit, or funds in the Quartermaster's hands to defray the contingent ex- penses thereof, we have neither the one nor the other ; and all that business^ or a great part of it^ being done by impress- ment, we are daily and hourly oppressing the people, souring their tempers^ and alienating their aflTections, Instead of having the regiments completed agreeable to the requisitions of Congress, scarce any state in the Union has at this hour Qne eighth part of its quota in the field, and there is little- 124 tKE Lii^-'E 6p prospect of ever getting more than half. In a word, instead of having any thing in readiness to take the field, we have nothing : and, instead of having the prospect of a glorious offensive campaign before us, we have a bewildered and gloomy prospect of a defensive one ; unless we should receive a powerful aid of ships, troops, and money, from our generous allies, and these at present are too contingent to build upon." While the Americans were suffering the complicated calamities which introduced the year 1781, their adversaries were carrying on the most extensive plan of operations against them which had ever been attempted. It had often been objected to the British commanders, that they had not conducted the war in the manner most likely to effect the subjugation of the i-evolted provinces. Mihtary criticks found fault with them for keeping a large army idle at New York, which they said, if^ properly applied, would have been sufficient to make successful impressions at one and the same time, on several of the states. The British seem to have calculated the campaign of 1781, with a view to make" an experiment of the comparative merit of this mode of Conducting military operations. The war raged in that year not only in the vicinity of the British head quarters at New York, but in Georgia, South Carolina, North Caro» lina, and in Virginia. In this extensive warfare, Washington could have no im- mediate agency in the southern department. His advice in corresponding with the officers commanding in Virginia^ the Carolinas, and Georgia, was freely and beneficially given ; and as large detachments sent to their aid as could be spared consistently with the security of West Pointi In conducting the war, his invariable maxim was, to suffer the devastation of property, rather than hazard great and essential objects for its preservation^ While the war raged in Virginia, the Governour thereof, its representatives iri Congress and other influential citizens, urged his return to the defence of his native state.* But, considering America * General La Payette was detached with 1200 men, to the held of the Chesapeake, to co-operate with a French sixty-four and two frigates, which had been sent from the Squadron at Newport, to check the opera- tions of Arnold, then laying waste Virginia. This object failed; but La Fayette, under new orders from Gen, Washington, repaired to Virginia, ■and had the principal direction of the defence of that state until the ar- Tival of the United French and American armies. The troops with which iie undertook this expedition, were about 2800 in number, almost in a GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 125 as his country, and the general safety as his object, he deemed it of more importance to remain on the Hudson : there he was not only securing the most important post in the United States, but concerting a grand plan of com- bined operations, which, as shall soon be related, not only delivered Virginia, but all the states from the calamities of the war. In Washington's disregard of property when in compe- tition with national objects, he was in no respect partial to his own. While the British were in the Potomack, they sent a flag on shore to Mount Vernon, (his private estate.) requiring a supply of fresh provisions. Refusals of such demands were often followed by burning the houses and other property near the river. To prevent this catastrophe, the person entrusted with the management of the estate, went on board with the flag, and carrying a supply of pro- visions, requested that the buildings and improvements might be spared. For this he received a severe reprimand in a letter to him, in which the General observed — " That it would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have heard, that in consequence of your noncompliance with the request of the British, they had burnt my house, and laid my plantation in ruins. You ought to have considered yourself as my representative, and should have reflected on the bad example of communicating with the enemy, and ma- king a voluntary ofl^er of refreshment to them, with a view to prevent a conflagration." To the other difficulties with which Washington had to contend in the preceding years of the war, a new one was about this time added. While the whole force at his dispo- sal was unequal to the defence of the country against the common enemy, a civil war was on the point of breaking out among his fellow citizens. The claims of the in- habitants of Vermont to be a separate independent state, and of the state of New York, to their country, as within state of mutiny, and frequent desertions took place, from an aversion to the service. The yoima General, however, appealed in general orders, to their generous and pairi'otick principles, and offered permission to depart, to any one who refused to accompany him. This had the effect to stop desertion, and the soldiers marched forward with enthusiasm. But the consummate valour, prudence, and skill, manifested by La Fayette during this campaign, are rather subjects for his own biography than for thess^ pages. 126 THE LIFE OF its chartered limits, together with open offers from the Roys al Commanders to estabhsli and defend them as a British province, produced a serious crisis, which called for the interference of the American chief. This was the more necessary, as the governments of New York and of Ver- mont were both resolved on exercising a jurisdiction over .the same people and the same territory. Congress wishing to compromise the controversy on middle ground, resolved, in August, 1781, to accede to the independence of Vermont on certain conditions, and within certain specified limits, which they supposed would satisfy both parties. Contrary to their expectations, this mediatorial act of the national legislature was rejected by Vermont, and yet was so disa- greeable to the legislature of New York as to draw from them a spirited protest against it. Vermont complained that Congress interfered in their internal police ; New York viewed the resolve as a virtual dismemberment of their state, which was a constituent part of the confederacy. Washington anxious for the peace of the Union, sent a message to Chittenden, Governour of Vermont, desiring to know " what were the real designs, views, and intentions, of the people of Vermont ; whether they would be satisfied with the independence proposed by Congress, or had it seri- ously in contemplation to join with the enemy, and become a British province." The Governour returned an unequiv- ocal answer — " that there were no people on the continent more attached to the cause of America than the people of Vermont ; but they were fully determined not to be put under the government of New York ; that they would op. pose this by force of arms, and would join with the British in Canada rather than submit to that government." While both states were dissatisfied with Congress, and their ani- mosities, from increasing violence and irritation, became daily more alarming, Washington, aware of the extremes to which all parties were tending, returned an answer to Gov. Chittenden, in which were these expressions. " It is not my business, neither do I think it necessary now to dis- cuss the origin of the right of a number of inhabitants to that tract of country formerly distinguished by the name of the New Hampshire grants, and now known by that of Vermont. I will take it for granted that their right was good, because Congress by their resolve of the 7th August, GEORGE WASKINGTO??. 127 imply it, and by that of the 21st are willing fully to con- firm it, provided the new state is confined to certain de- scribed bounds. It appears therefore to me, that the dispute of boundary is the only one that exists ; and that being re- moved, all other difficulties would be removed also, and the matter terminated to the satisfaction of all parties. You have nothing to do but withdraw your jurisdiction to the confines of your old limits, and obtain an acknowledgement of independence and sovereignty, under the resolve of the 21st of August, for so much territory as does not interfere with the ancient established bounds of New York, New- Hampshire, and Massachusetts. In my private opinion, while it behooves the delegates to do ample justice to a body of people sufficiently respectable by their numbers, and en- titled by other claims to be admitted into that confederation, it becomes them also to attend to the interests of their con- stituents, and see that under the appearance of justice to one, they do not materially injure the rights of others. I am apt to think this is the prevailing opinion of Congress." The impartiality, moderation, and good sense, of this letter, together with a full conviction of the disinterested patriotism of the writer, brought round a revolution in the minds of the legislature of Vermont ; and they accepted the propositions of Congress, though they had rejected them four months before. A truce among the contending parties followed, and the storm blew over. Thus the personal influ- ence of one man, derived from his pre-eminent virtues and meritorious services, extinguished the sparks of civil dis- cord at the time they were kindling into a flame.* Though in conducting the American war. Gen. Wash- ington often acted on the Fabian system, by evacuating, retreating, and avoiding decisive engagements ; yet this was much more the result of necessity than of choice. His uniform opinion was in favour of energetick offensive ope- rations, as the most effectual means of bringing the war to a termination. On this principle he planned attacks in almost every year on some or other of the British armies or * For more particulars, see William's History of Vermont; a work which, for its superiour merit, deserves a place in every Library. If the Author had been an European, this would probably have been the case soon after his enlightened philosophical History had crossed the Atlantic, and made its appearance in the United States. 128 THE LIFE OP strong posts in the United States. He endeavoured, from year to year, to stimulate the publick mind to some great operation ; but was never properly supported. In the years 1778, '79, and '80, the projected combined operations with the French, as h.as been related, entirely miscarried. The idea of ending tlie war by some decisive military exploit, continually occupied his active mind. To ensure success, a naval superiority on the coast, and a loan of money, were indispensably necessary. The last was particularly so in the year 1781 ; for the resources of the United States were then so reduced, as to be unequal to the support of their army, or even to the transportation of it (o any distant scene of action. To obtain these necessary aids, it was determined to send an envoy extraordinary to the court of Versailles. Lieut. Col. John Laurens was selected for this purpose. He was in every respect qualified for the important mission. In addition to the most engaging personal address, his con. nexion with the commander in chief, as one of his aids, gave him an opportunity of being intimately acquainted with the military capacities and weaknesses of his country. These were also particularly detailed in the form of a letter to him from Gen. Washington. This was written when the Pennsylvania line was in open revolt. Among other interesting matters it stated — "That the efforts already made by the United States exceeded the natural ability of the country ; and that any revenue they were capable of making would leave a large surplus to be supplied by credit ; that experience had proved the impossibility of supporting a paper system without funds, and that domestick loans could not be effected, because there were few men of moneyed capital in the United States ; that from necessity recourse had been had to military impressments for supporting the army, which, if continued longer, or urged farther, would probaply disgust the people, and bring round a revolution of publick sentiment. " That the relief procured by these violent means was so inadequate, that the patience of the army was exhausted, and their discontents had broke out in serious and alarming mutinies ; that the relief necessary was not within the pow- er of the United States; and that from a view of all cir- cumstances, a loan of money was absolutely necessary for reviving publick credit, and giving vigour to future opera* ftEORGE WASHINGTON. 129 tions.'' It was farther stated — "that next to a loan of money, a French naval superiority in the American seas was of so much consequence, that without it nothing de- cisive could be undertaken against the British, who were in the greatest force on and near the coasts." The future capacities of the United States to repay any loan that might be made, were particularly stated ; and that *' there v*'as still a fund of resource and inclination in the country equal to great exertions, provided a liberal supply of money would furnish the means of stopping the progress of disgust which resulted from the unpopular mode of supply, ing the army by requisition and impressment." Such interesting statements, sanctioned by the American chief, and enforced by the address of Col. Laurens, directly from the scene of action, and the influence of Dr. Franklin,, who, for the five preceding years, had been minister pleni- potentiary from the United States to the court of Versailles, produced the desired effect. His Most Christian Majesty gave his American allies a subsidy of six millions of livres, and became their security for ten millions more, borrowed for their use in the United Netherlands. A naval co-operation was promised, and a conjunct expedition against their com- mon foes projected. The American war was now so far involved in the conse- quences of naval operations, that a superiour French fleet seemed to be the hinge on which it was likely soon to take a favourable turn. The British army being parcelled in the different seaports of the United States, any division of it, blocked up by a French fleet, could not long resist the superiour combined force which might be brought to operate against it. The Marquis de Castries, who directed the marine of France with great precision, calculated the naval force which the British could concentre on the coast of the United States, and disposed his own in such a manner as ensured him a superiority. In conformity to these princi- ples, and in subserviency to the design of the campaign, M. de Grasse sailed in march, 1781, from Brest, with twenty- five sail of the line, several thousand land forces, and a large convoy amounting to more than two hundred ships. A small part of this force was destined for the East Indias ; but M. de Grasse with the greater part sailed for Martinique4 The British fleet then in the West Indies had been previ- 12 130 THE LIFE OF ously weakened by the departure of a squadron for the prcr* tection of the ships which were employed in carrying to England the booty which had been taken at St. Eustatius, The British Admirals Hood and Drake were detached to intercept the outward bound French fleet, commanded py M. de Grasse; but a junction between his force and eight ships of the line, and one of 50 guns, which were previously at Martinique and St. Domingo, was nevertheless effected. By this combination of fresh ships from Europe, with the French fleet previously in the West Indies, they had a deci- ded superiority. M. de Grasse having finished his business in the West Indies, sailed in the beginning of August with a prodigious convoy. After seeing this out of danger, he directed his course for the Chesapeake, and arrived there on the thirtieth of the same month. Five days before his arri- val in the Chesapeake, the French fleet in Rhode Island sail- ed for the same place. These fleets, notwithstanding their original distance from the scene of action, and from each other, coincided in their operations in an extraordinary manner, far beyond the reach of military calculation. They all tended to one object, and at one and the same time ; and that object was neither known nor suspected by the British, till the proper season for counteraction was elapsed. This coincidence of favourable circumstances extended to the marches of the American and French land forces. The plan of operations had been so well digested, and was so faithfully executed by the different commanders, that Gen. Washington and Count Rochambeau had passed the British head quarters in New York, and were considerably advanced in their way to Yorktown, before Count de Grasse had reached the American coast. This was effected in the following manner : Mons. de Barras, appointed to the com- mand of the French squadron at Newport, arrived at Bos- ton with despatches for Count de Rochambeau. An inter- view soon after took place at Weathersfield, between Gen- erals Washington, Knox, and Du Portail, on the part of the Americans, and Count de Rochambeau and the Chevalier Chastellux, on the part of the French. At this interview an eventual plan of the whole campaign was fixed. This was to lay siege to New York, in concert with a French fleet, which was to arrive on the coast in the month of August. It was agreed that the French troops should march GEORGE WASHINGTON. 131 towards the North river. Letters were addressed by Gen. Washington to the executive officers of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Jersey, requiring them to fill up their battalions, and to have their quotas of 6,200 militia in readiness within a week of the time they might be called for. Conformably to these outlines of the campaign, the French troops marched from Rhode Island in June, and early in the following month joined the Amer- ican army. At the same time Washington marched his army from their winter encampment near Peekskill to the vicinity of Kingsbridge. Gen. Lincoln fell down the North river with a detachment in boats, and took possession of the ground where Fort Independence formerly stood. An attack was made upon him, but was soon discontinued. The British about this time retired with almost the whole of their force to York Island, Washington hoped to be able to commence operations against New York about the middle, or at far- thest the latter end of July. Flat bottomed boats sufficient to transport 5,000 men were built near Albany, and brought down the North river to the neighbourhood of the American army before New York. Ovens were erected opposite to Staten Island for the use of the French troops. Every movement introductory to the commencement of the siege was made. To the great mortification of Washington, he found himself on the second of August, to be only a few hundreds stronger than he was on the day his army first moved from their winter quarters. To have fixed on a plan of operations with a foreign officer at the head of a respect- able force ; to have brought that force from a considerable distance in confident expectation of reinforcements suffi- ciently large to commence effective operations against the common enemy ; and at the same time to have engagements in behalf of the states violated in direct opposition to their own interest, and in a manner derogatory to his personal honour, was enough to have excited storms and tempests in any mind less calm than that of General Washington. He bore this hard trial with his usual magnanimity, and contented himself with repeating his requisitions to the states ; and at the same time urged them by every tie to enable him to fulfil engagements entered into on their account with the commander of the French troops. That tardiness which at other times had brought the 132 THE LIFE Ot Americans near the brink of ruin, was now the accidental cause of real service. Had they sent forward their recruits for the regular army, and their quotas of militia, as was expected, the siege of New York would have commenced in the latter end of July, or early in August. While the season was wasting away in expectation of these reinforce- ments. Lord Cornwallis, as has been mentioned, fixed him- self near the Capes of Virginia. His situation there ; the arrival of a reinforcement of 3,000 Germans from Europe to New York ; the superiour strength of their garrison ; the failure of the states in filling up their battalions and embo- dying their militia ; and especially recent intelligence from Count de Grasse, that his destination was fixed to the Ches. apeake, concurred about the middle of August to make a total change of the plan of the campaign. The appearance of an intention to attack New York was, nevertheless, kept up. While this deception was played off, the allied army crossed the North river, and passed on by the way of Philadelphia through the intermediate country to Yorktown. An attempt to reduce the British force in Virginia promised success with more expedition, and to secure an object of nearly equal importance as the reduction of New York. While the attack of New York was in serious contem- plation, a letter from Gen. Washington, detailing the par- ticulars of the intended operations of the campaign, being intercepted, fell into the hands of Sir Henry Clinton.* After the plan was changed, the royal commander was so much under the impression of the intelligence contained in the intercepted letter, that he believed every movement towards Virginia to be a feint calculated to draw off his attention from the defence of New York. Under the influ- ence of this opinion, he bent his whole force to strengthen that post ; and suffered the American and French armies to pass him without molestation. When the best opportu- nity of striking at them was elapsed, then for the first time ♦This letter was directed to Gen, La Fayette in Virginia. At the same time Gen. La Fayette wrote to Washington, urging upon him, that a favourable time had arrived for a combined operation against Lord Corn- walUs — This letter, and that of Gen. Washington in reply, concurring in these views, escaped the vigilance of the tory spy ; so that James Moody (says La Fayette,) rendered an ill service to those who employed him by seizing the letter bag in the Jerseys." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 133 he was brought to believe, that the allies had fixed on Vir- ginia for the theatre of their combined operations. As truth may be made to answer the purposes of deception, so no feint of attacking New York could have been more success- ful than the real intention. In the latter end of August, the American army began their march to Virginia from the neighbourhood of New York. Washington had advanced as far as Chester, before he received the news of the arrival of the fleet commanded by M. de Grasse. The French troops marched at the same time, and for the same place. Gen. Washington and Count Rochambeau, with Generals Chastellux, Du Portail, and Knox, proceeded to visit Count de Grasse on board his ship, the Ville de Paris, and agreed on a plan of operations. The Count afterwards wrote to Washington, that in case a British fleet appeared, " he conceived that he ought to go out and meet them at sea, instead of risking an engagement in a confined situation." This alarmed the General. He sent the Marquis de La Fayette with a letter to dissuade him from the dangerous measure. This letter, and the per- suasions of the Marquis, had the desired effect. The combined forces proceeded on their way to York- town, partly by land, and partly down the Chesapeake. The whole together, with a body of Virginia militia, under the command of Gen. Nelson, rendezvoused at Williamsburg, on the 25th of September, and in five days after moved down to the investment of Yorktown. The French fleet at the same time moved to the mouth of York river, and took a position which was calculated to prevent lord Corn- wallis either from retreating, or receiving succour by water. Previously to the march from Williamsburg to Yorktown, Washington gave out in general orders as follows ; — " If the enemy should be tempted to meet the army on its march, the General particularly enjoins the troops to place their principal reliance on the bayonet, that the)' may prove the vanity of the boast, which the British make of their parti- cular prowess, in deciding battles with that weapon." The works erected for the security of Yorktown on the right, were redoubts and batteries, with a line of stockade in the rear. A marshy ravine lay in front of the right, •over which was placed a large redoubt. The morass extend- -ed along the centre, which was defended by a line of stock- 12* 134 THE LIFE OF ade, and by batteries. On the left of the centre" was a hornwork with a ditch, a row of freize, and an abbatis. Two redoubts were advanced before the left. The combined forces advanced, and took possession of the ground from which the British had retired. About this time the legion cavalry and mounted infantry passed over the river to Gloucester. Gen. de Choisy invested the British post^on that side so fully, as to cut oti' all communication between it and the country. In the mean time, the royal army was straining every nerve to strengthen their works, and their artillery was constantly employed in impeding the opera- tions of the combined army. On the ninth and tenth of October, the Americans and French opened their batteries. They kept up a brisk and well directed fire from heavy can- non, from mortars, and howitzers. The shells of the be- siegers reached the ships in the harbour ; the Charon of 44 guns, and a transport ship, were burned. The besiegers commenced their second parallel two hundred yards from the works of the besieged. Two redoubts which were ad- vanced on the left of the British, greatly impeded the pro- gress of the combined armies. It was therefore proposed to carry them by storm. To excite a spirit of emulation, the reduction of the one was committed to the French, ot' the other to the Americans.* The assailants marched to the assault with unloaded arms ; having passed the abbatis and palisades, they attacked on all sides, and carried the redoubt in a few minutes, with the loss of eight men killed, and twenty-eight wounded. The French were equally successful on their part. They carried the redoubt assigned to them with rapidity, but lost a considerable number of men. These two redoubts were included in the second parallel, and faciliated the subsequent operations of the besiegers. f *The Marquis de La Fayette commanded the American detachment, and the Baron de Viominel the French.— The Baron, before the attack, had indulged in some playful boastin2:s, as to the superiority of the French in such cases. After the Americans had taken their redoubt, at the point of the bayonet, the fire of the French still continuing, La Fayette sent an aid-de-camp to the Baron, to inquire, whether he did not need some help' from the Americans. + " During the assault, the British kept up an incessant firing of"" cannon and musketry fiom their whole line. His Excellency General Washington, Generals Lincoln and Knox, with their aids, having dis- mounted, were standing in an exposed situation, waiting the result. CoL GEORGE ViASnUiGlOfi, IZd By this time the batteries of the besiegers were covered with nearly a hundred pieces of heavy ordnance, and the works of the besieged were so damaged that they could scarcely show a single gun. Lord Cornwallis had now no hope left, but from offering terms of capitulation, or attempt- ing an escape. He determined on the latter. This, though less practicable than when first proposed, was not altogether hopeless. Boats were prepared to receive the troops in the night, and to transport them to Gloucester point. After one whole embarkation had crossed, a violent storm of wind and rain dispersed the boats, and frustrated the whole scheme. The royal army, thus weakened by division, was exposed to increased danger. Orders were sent to those who had passed, to recross the river to Yorktovvn. With the failure of this scheme, the last hope of the British army expired. Longer resistance could answer no good purpose, and might occasion the loss of many valuable lives. Lord Cornwalli? therefore wrote a letter to Gen. Washington, requesting z cessation of arms for twenty. four hours ; and that commis- sioners might be appointed to digest terms of capitulation. This was agreed to, and in consequence thereof, the postsr of York and Gloucester were surrendered on certain stipula- tions ; the principal of which were as follows :— •• The troops to be prisoners of war to Congress, and the natal force to France : — The officers to retain their side arms and private property of every kind, but every thing obvious, ly belonging to the inhabitants of the United States, to be subject to be reclaimed: — The soldiers to be kept in Virgi- nia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania, and to be supplied with the same rations as are allowed to soldiers in the service of Congress : — A proportion of the officers to march into ttie country with the prisoners, the rest to be allowed to proceed on parole to Europe, to New York, or to any other Ameri- can maritime post in possession of the British." The hon- Cobb, one of General Washington's aids, solid tons for bis safetfj said to his Excellency, ' Sir, you are too raucti exposed here, had you not better step a little back 7' ' Colonel Cobb,' rephed his Excellency, *i£ you are afraid, you have liberty to step back," — Tkatchtr. On a previous' day, ''While the Rev. ilr. Evans, our chaplain, was standing near the commander in chie£ a shot struck the ground go near as to cover his hat with sand ; bemg miich agitated, he took off his hat and said, 'See here. General 1' 'Mr. Evans,' replied his Excellency, with his usual composure, ' you had better carry that home and show \i to your nife and coildr^.' "—Id. 136 THE LIFE OP our of marching out with colours flying, which had been refused to Gen. Lincoln on his giving up Charleston, was now refused to Earl Cornwallis ; and Gen. Lincoln was ap- pointed to receive the submission of the royal army at York- town, precisely in the same way his own had been conduc- ted about eighteen months before.* The regular troops of America and France, employed in his siege, consisted of about 5,500 of the former, and 7,000 of the latter, and they were assisted by about 4,000 militia. On the part of the combined army, about three hundred were killed or wounded. On the part of the British about five hundred, and seventy were taken in the redoubts, which were carried by assault on the 14th of October. The troops of every kind that surrendered prisoners of war, exceeded 7,000 men ; but so great was the number of sick and wound- ed, that there were only 3,800 capable of bearing arms. Congress honoured Gen. Washington, Count de Rocham. beau, Count de Grasse, and the officers of the different corps, and the men under them, with thanks for their services in the reduction of Lord Cornwallis. The whole project was conceived with profound wisdom, and the incidents of it had been combined with singular propriety. It is not therefore wonderful, that from the remarkable coincidence in all its parts, it was crowned with unvaried success. General Washington, on the day after the surrender, ordered " that those who were under arrest, should be par- doned and set at liberty." His orders closed as follows — "Divine service shall be performed to-morrow in the differ- ent brigades and divisions. The commander in chief re- commends that all the troops that are not upon duty, do assist at it with a serious deportment; and that sensibility of heart which the recollection of the surprising and particu- lar interposition of providence in our favour claims." The interesting event of captivating a second royal army, pro- * Lord Cornwallis was, or pretended to be, ill, and did not march out with the garrison. His place, at its head, was supplied by General O'Hara. " The garrison (says Count Dumas,) defiled between the two lines, beyond which, I caused them to form in order of battle, and pile their arms. The EngUsh officers manifested the most bitter mortification, and I remember that Colonel Abercrombie, of the Enghsh guards, (the same who afterwards perished in Egypt, in the field of battle, where he ^ad just triumphed,) at the moment when his troops laid down their arms^ Withdrew rapidly, covering his face and biting his sword." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 137 duced strong emotions, which broke out in all the variety of wavs in which the most rapturous joy usually displays itself. " After the capture of Lord Cornwallis, Washington, with the greatest part of his army, returned to the vicinity of New York,* In the preceding six years he had been accus- tomed to look forward and to provide for all possible events* In the habit of struggling with difficulties, his courage at all times grew with the dangers which surrounded him. In the most disastrous situations he was far removed from despair. On the other hand, those fortunate events which induced many to believe that the revolution was accom- plished, never operated on him so far as to relax his exertions or precautions. Though complete success had been obtained * On the retiring of the combined armies from Yorktov/n, Gen. Wash- ington embraced the opportunity of visiting his mother, who resided near Fredericksburg. This interesting interview, the first which had occurred between the mother and son during the war hi which he had acquired such an honoured name, is thus related by Mr. Custis in the biographical sketch to which we have referred in the note on page 20 : " No pageantry of war proclaimed his coming, no trumpets sounded, no banners waved. Alone and on foot, the marshal of France, the general in chief of the combined armies of France and America, the deUverer of his country, the hero of the age, repaired to pay his humble duty to her whom he venerated as the author of his being, the founder of his fortune and his fame. For full well he knew that the matron would not be moved by all the pride that glory ever gave, nor by all the 'pomp and circumstance' of power. " The lady was alone, her aged hands employed in the works of domes- tick industry, when the good news was announced, and it was further told that the victor chief was in waiting at the threshold. She welcomed him with a warm embrace, and by the well remembered and endearing name of his childhood ; inquiring as to his health, she remarked the lines which mighty cares and many trials had made on his manly countenance, spoke much of old times and old friends, but of his glory — not one wordf^ On the same occasion, Washington attended a ball, given by the citi- zens of Fredericksburg in compUment to him, and the officers of the French and American armies who had achieved the important victory of Yorktown ; and with characteristick goodness of heart and complaisance of manners, joined in the amusements of the evening. "It was on this festive occasion that General Washington danced a minuet with Mrs. WiUis. It closed his dancing days. The minuet was much in vogue at that period, and was pecuharly calculated for the dis- play of the splendid figure of the chief, and bis natural grace and elegance of air and manner. The gallant Frenchmen who were present, of which fine people it may be said, that dancing forms one of the elements of their existence, so much admired the American performance, as to admit that a Parisian education could not have improved it. As the evening advanced, the commander in chief, yielding to the gayety of the scene, went down some dozen couple, in the contra-dance, with great spirit and satisfaction." 138 THE LIFE OP by the allied arms in Virginia, and great advantages had been gained in 1781 in the Carolinas, yet Washington urged the necessity of being prepared for another campaign.* In a letter to Gen. Greene he observed, " I shall endeavour to stimulate Congress to the best improvement of our late suc- cess, by taking the most vigorous and effectual measures to be ready for an early and decisive campaign the next year. My greatest fear is that, viewing this stroke in a point of light which may too much magnify its importance, they may think our work too nearly closed, and fall into a state of languor and relaxation. To prevent this errour, I shall employ every means in my power ; and if unhappily we sink into this fatal mistake, no part of the blame shall be mine." * Wishing to follow up his success, Gen. Washington, immediately after the surrender of Cornwaihs, proposed to the French Admiral de Grasse, to join in an expedition against Charleston, then in the posses- sion of the British. — But this the Admiral, being under obhgation to return to the West Indies, dechned, as well as a proposition to land a body of troops, under La Fayette, at Wilmm^ton, North Carolina. A body of troops, from Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, was therefore put under Gen. St. Clair, for the purpose of reinforcing Gen. Greene at the South. The troops belonging eastward of Pennsylvania were marched to winter quarters on the Hudson. Gen. Washington repaired to Phil- adelphia, where he was treated with great distinction, and congratulated in an address by the President of the Congress. — On his way, at Eltham, he was present at the death of Mr. Custis, the only son of Mrs. Wash- ington, whom he had watched over and cherished as his own son. — It was an event of deep affliction. " Mr. Custis (says Sparks) was a member of the Virginia legislature, and much respected for his publick and private character. He died at the age of twenty-eight, leaving four infant children, the two youngest of whom, a son and a daughter, were adopted by Gen. Washington, and they resided in his family till the end of his life." GSOEGE WASHINGTON. 139 CHAP. IX. Prospects of peace. Languor of the States. Discontents of the army. Gen. Washington prevents the adoption of rash measures. Some new levies in Pennsylvania mutiny, and are quelled. Washington recom- mends measures for the preservation of independence, peace, liberty, and happiness. Dismisses his army. Enters New York. Takes leave of his officers. Settles his accounts. Repairs to Annapolis, Resigns his commission. Retires to Mount Vemon, and resumes his agricultural pursuits. 4^ 1782—1783. The military establishment for 1782, was passed with unusual celerity shortly after the surrender of Lord Corn^ wallis ; but no exertions of America alone could do more than confine the British to the sea coast.* To dislodge them * Among the incidents of this period, which add interest to the narra- tive, without being of great pubhck importance, was the murder of Cap- tain John Huddy. This officer commanded a detachment stationed in a block-house, in Monmouth county ; and after bravely defending it against a party of refugees from New York, (March 24th, 1782,) was for want of am- munition compelled to surrender, and was taken as a prisoner into New York. He was closely confined until the 6th of April ; when, without the form of a trial, he was carried over to the Jersey shore by a party of refugees under the direction of Captain Lippencot, and hung upon a tree. This savage deed greatly exasperated the inhabitants of New Jersey, and a memorial was addressed to Gen. Washington, urging him to procure justice upon the author of it, or to adopt retahatory measures. The Ge- neral immediately wrote to Sir Henry Clinton, demanding that Lippen- cot should be given up, or punished. Sir H. Chnton avowed his disap- proval of the act, and a court martial was convened for the trial of Lippencot, which resulted in his acquittal, under the pretext that he had acted under the authority and direction of the board of associated loyal- ists i In the mean time, General W^ashington had convened a meeting of the general officers commanding brigades and regiments, to deliberate on the subject. Each one, without consulting with the other, was direct- ed to write his opinion, and address the same, sealed up, to the commander in chief The result was, a unanimous opinion, that retaliation should be resorted to ; that it should be inflicted on an officer of equal rank with Capt. Huddy, and thai the victim should be designated by lot. Thirteen British captains, then prisoners at Lancaster, Pa., were directed to draw from a hat in which were placed twelve blank shps of paper, and one slip upon which was written the word unfortunate. This slip, which doomed TO ignominious death its unfortunate recipient, was drawn by Capt. Asgill, of the British guards, a young gentleman of noble family, but nineteen years of age, and an only son. The news of young Asgill' s impending 140 THE LIFE OF from their strong holds in New York and Charleston, occu- pied the unceasing attention of Washington. While he was concerting plans for farther combined operations with the French, and at the same time endeavouring by circular letters to rouse his countrymen to spirited measures, intelli- gence arrived that sundry motions for discontinuing the American war had been debated in the British Parliament, and nearly carried. Fearing that this would relax the exer- tions of the states, he added in his circular letters to their respective Governours — " I have perused these debates with great attention and care, with a view, if possible, to pene- trate their real design ; and upon the most mature delibera- tion I can bestow, I am obliged to declare it as my candid opinion, that the measure in all its views, so far as it re- fate, reached England while his father was upon his death bed. The soul of Lady Asgill was thus doubly agonized, and the sister of young Asgill became temporarily delirious. His case soon excited general interest and sympathy in Europe. Lady Asgill, after imploruig the exertions of the king and queen of Great Britain wrote a most eloquent and affecting let- ter to the French Minister, the Count de Vergennes, soliciting the inter- ference of the Fi'ench government. The Count de Vergennes immedi- ately wrote to Gen. Washington, dated July 27th, enclosing the letter from Lady Asgill. " Your Excellency," says the Count, " will not read this letter (Lady Asgill's) without being extremely affected. It thus af- fected the king and queen, to whom I communicated it. The goodness of their majesty's hearts induces them to desire that the inquietudes of an unfortunate mother may be calmed, and her tenderness re-assured. There is one consideration, sir, which, though not decisive, may have an influence on your resolution: Captain AsgiU is doubtless your prisoner, but he is among those whom the arms of the king contributed to put into your hands at Yorktown. Though this circumstance does not operate as a safeguard, it, however, justifies the interest I permit myself to take in this affair." Copies of these letters being transmitted to Congress, they resolved, Nov. 7th, that the commander in chief be directed to set Capt. Asgill at liberty. Gen. Washington had, in a letter dated Oct. 7, express- ed nis private opinion to the Secretary of War that Capt. A. ought to be liberated, and permitted to return to his friends in England. This order, therefore, was highly gratifying to him, and relieved him from an unplea- sant responsibihty. He immediately transmitted to Capt. Asgill, a copy of the resolution of Congress, with a passport for him to go into New York, and also a letter which closes as follows : " T cannot take leave of you, sir, without assuring you, that in whatever light my agency in this unpleasant affair may be viewed, I was never influenced through the whole of it by sanguinary motives, but by what I conceived to be a sense of my duty, which loudly called on me to take measures, however disa- greeable, to prevent a repetition of those enormities which have been the subject of discussion. And that this important end is likely to be an- swered without the effusion of the blood of an innocent person, is not a greater relief to you than it is, Sir, to your moat obedient humble servant, GEORGE WASHINGTON." GEORGE WASHINGTON. ' 141 gpects America, is merely delusory, having no serious inten- tion to admit our independence upon its true principles; but is calculated to produce a change of ministers to quiet the minds of their own people, and reconcile them to a con- tinuance of the war ; while it is meant to amuse this coun- try with a false idea of peace, to draw us from our connexion with France, and to lull us into a state of security and inactivity ; which taking place, the ministry will be left to prosecute the war in other parts of the world with greater vigour and effect. Your excellency will permit me on this occasion to observe, that even if the nation and parliament are really in earnest to obtain peace with America, it will undoubtedly be wisdom in us to meet them with great cau- tion and circumspection, and by all means to keep our arms firm in our hands ; and instead of rela"xing one iota in oar exertions, rather to spring forward with redoubled vigour, that We may take the advantage of every favourable oppor- tunity, until our wishes are fully obtained. No nation yet suffered in treaty by preparing, (even in the moment of ne- gotiation,) most vigorously for the field." Early in May, Sir Guy Carleton, who had succeeded Sir Henry Clinton as commander in chief of the British forces in America, arrived in New York, and announced in suc- cessive communications, the increasing probability of a speedy peace, and his disapprobation of farther hostilities, which, he observed, " could only tend to multiply the mis- eries of individuals, without a possible advantage to either nation." The cautious temper of Washington gradually yielded to increasing evidence that the British were seriously inclined to terminate the war ; but in proportion as this opinion prevailed, the exertions of the states relaxed. Not more than 80,000 dollars had been received from all of them, when the month of August was far advanced. Every expen- diture yielded to the subsistence of the army. A sufficiency of money could scarcely be obtained for that indispensably necessary purpose. To pay the troops was impossible. Washington, whose sagacity anticipated events, foresaw with concern the probable consequences likely to result from the tardiness of the states to comply with the requisi- tions of Congress. These had been ample. Eight millions of dollars had been called for, to be paid in four equal quar- terly instalments, for the service of the year 1782. In a 13 142 THE LIFE OF confidential letter to the Secretary of War, Washington observed — " I cannot help fearing the result of reducing the army, where I see such a number of men, goaded by a thou- sand stings of reflection on the past, and of anticipation on the future, about to be turned into the world, soured by penury, an(^ what they call the ingratitude of the publick ; involved in debts, without one farthing of money to carry them home, after having spent the. flower of their days, and many of them their patrimonies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their country, and having suflTered every thing which human nature is capable of enduring on this side of death. I repeat it, when I reflect on these irri- table circumstances, I cannot avoid apprehending that a train of evils will follow, of a very serious and distressing nature. " I wish not to heighten the shades of the picture so far as the real life would justify me in doing, or I would give anecdotes of patriotism and distress, which have scarcely ever been paralleled, never surpassed, in the history of man- kind. But you may rely upon it ; the patience and long sufferance of this army are almost exhausted, and there never was so great a spirit of discontent as at this instant. While in the field, it may be kept from breaking out into acts of outrage ; but when we retire into winter quarters, (unless the storm be previously dissipated,) I cannot be at ease respecting the consequences. It is high time for a peace." These apprehensions were well founded. To watch the discontents of his troops, the American chief continued in camp after they had retired into winter quarters, though there was no prospect of any military operation which might require his presence. Soon after their retirement, the officers presented a petition to Congress respecting their pay, and deputed a committee of their body to solicit their interests while under consideration.* Nothing had been decided on the claims of the army, when intelligence, (in March, 1783,) arrived, that prelimi- nary and eventual articles, of peace between the United States and Great Britain had been signed on the 30th of the preceding November, in which the independence of the * See the Appendix for this Petition. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 143 tJnited States was amply recognized. In the general joy excited by this event, the army partook ; but one unpleas- ant idea mingled itself with their exultations. They sus- pected that as justice had not been done to them while their services were indispensable, they would be less likely to ob* tain it when they ceased to be necessary. Their tears on this account were increased by a letter which about the same time was received trom their committee in Philadelphia, announcing that the objects which they had solicited from Congress had not yet been obtained. Smarting as they were under past sufferings, and present wants, their exaspe- ration became violent and almost universal. While they were brooding over their gloomy prospects, and provoked at the apparent neglect with which they had been treated, an anonymous paper was circulated, proposing a meeting of the General and Field Officers on the next day. The avow- ed object of this meeting was to consider the late letter from their committee with Congress, and what measures should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which they seemed to have solicited in vain. On the same day the following address was privately circulated : "TO THE OFFICERS OF THE ARMY. " Gentlemen, " A fellow-soldier, whose interest and affections bind him strongly to you ; whose past sufferings have been as great, and whose future fo~rtune may be as desperate as yours — would beg leave to address you. Age has its claims, and rank is not without its pretensions to advise; but though unsupported by both, he flatters himself that the plain language of sincerity and experience, will neither be unheard nor unregarded. Like many of you, he loved private hfe, and left it with regret. He left it, determined to retire from the field vriih the necessity that called him to it, and not ^i/Z f/ien ; not till the enemies of his country, the slaves of power, and the hirelings of injustice, were compelled to abandon their schemes, and acknowledge America as terrible in arms as she had been humble in remonstrance. With this object in view, he has long shared in your toils, and mingled in your dangers ; he has felt the cold hand of poverty without a murmur, and has seen the insolence of wealth without a sigh. But, too much under the direction of his wishes, and sometimes weak enough to mistake desire for opinion, he has, till lately, very lately, believed in the justice of his country. He hoped, that as the clouds of adversity scattered, and as the sunshine of peace and better fortune broke in upon us, the coldness and severity of government would relax, and that, more than justice, that gratitude would blaze forth upon those hands which had upheld her in the darkest stages of her passage, from impending servitude to acknowledged independence. But faith has its limits, as well as temper; and there are points beyond which neither can be stretched, without sinking into cowardice, or plunging into credulity. This, my friends, I conceive to be your situation. Hurried to the very 144 THE LIFE OF vergeof both, another step would ruin you for ever. To be tame aixl unprovoked when mjuries press hard upon you. is more than weakness; but to look up for kinder usage, without one manly effort of your own, would fix your character, and show the world how richly you deserve tliose chains you broke. To guard against this evil, let us take a review of the ground upon which we now stand, and from thence carry our thoughts forward for a moment, into the unexplored field of expedient. " After a pursuit of seven long years, the object for which we set out is at length brought within our reach ! — Yes, my friends, that suffering "courage of yours, was aciive once— it has conducted the United States of America through a doubtful and a bloody war ! It has placed her in the chair of independency, and peace returns again to bless— whom ? A country willing to redress your wrongs, cherish your worth, and reward your services; a country courting your return to private life, with tears of gratitude, and smiles of admiration ; longing to divide with you that in- dependency which your gallantry has given, and those riches which your wounds have preserved? Is this the case? or is it rather, a country that tramples upon your rights, disdains your cries, and insults your distresses? Have you not, more than once, suggested your wishes, and made known your wants to Congress? Wants and wishes which gratitude and pohcy should have anticipated, rather than evaded. And have you not lately, in the meek language of entreating memorial, begged from their justice, what you would no longer expect from their favour? How have you been answered? Let the letter which you are called to consider to-mor- row, make reply. "If this, then, be your treatment, while the swords you wear are ne- cessary for the defence of America, what have you to expect from peace, when your voice shall sink and your strength dissipate by division ? " When these very swords, the instruments and companions of your glory, shall be taken from your sides, and no remaining mark of militarjr distinction left, but your wants, infirmities, and scars I can you then consent to be the only sufferers by this revolution, and retiring from the field, grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt? Can you con- sent to wade through the vile mire of dependency, and owe the miserable remnant of that life to charity, which has hitherto been spent in honour? If you can, go — and carry with you the jest of tones, and the scorn of whigs — the ridicule, and what is worse, the pity of the world! Go, starve, and be forgotten ! But if your spirit should revolt at this ; if you have sense enough to discover, and spirit enough to oppose tyranny, under whatever garb it may assume ; whether it be the plain coat of republican- ism, or the splendid robe of royalty : if you have yet learned to discrimi- nate between a people and a cause, between men and principles — awake ! — attend to your situation, and redress yourselves. If the present mo- ment be lost, every future effort is in vain ; and your threats then will be as empty as your entreaties now. I would advise you, therefore, to come to some final opinion, upon what you can bear, and what you will suffer. If your determination be in any proportion to your wrongs, carry your appeal from the justice to the fears of government— change the milk and water style of your last memorial; assume a bolder tone -decent, but lively — spirited and determined; and suspect the man who would advise to more moderation and longer forbearance- Let two or three men, who can feel as well as write, be appointed to draw up your last remonstrance; for I would no longer give it the suing, soft, unsuccessful epithet of me- morial. Let it be represented, (in language that will neither dishonour you by its rudeness, nor betray you by its fears,) what has been pro- mised by Congress, and what has been performed ; how long and how patiently you have suffered ; how little you have asked, and now much feiaORGE WASHINGTON. 145 of that little has been denied. Tell them that though you were the first, and would wish to be che last, to encounter danger; though despair itself can never drive you into dishonour, it may drive you from the field ; that the wound often irritated, and never healed, may at length become in- curable; and that the slightest mark of indignity from Congress now, must operate like the grave, and part you for ever; that in any political event, the army has its alternative. If peace, that nothing shall separate you from your arms but death: if war, that courting the auspices and mviting the directions of your illusirious leader, you will retire to some unsettled country, smile m your turn, and 'mock when their fear cometh on.' But let it represent also, that should they comply with the request of your late memorial, it would make you more happy, and them more respectable : that while the war should continue, you would follow their standard into the field — and when it came to an end, you would withdraw into the shade of private life, and give the world another subject of won- der and applause— aw army victorious over its enemies — victorious over itself."* (Anonymous.] This artful address found in almost every bosom such con- genial sentiments, as prepared the way for its favourable reception. It operated like a torch on combustible materi- als. The passions of the army quickly caught the flame, it was well calculated to excite. Every appearance threat- ened that the proposed convention of the officers would pro- duce an explosion which might tarnish the reputation of the army, disturb the peace of the country, and, under certain circumstances, most probably terminate in the subversion of the recent liberties of the new formed states. Accustomed as Washington had been, to emergencies of great delicacy and difficulty, yet none had occurred, which called more pressingly than the present, for the utmost exertion of all his powers. He knew well that it was much easier to avoid intemperate measures than to recede from them after they had been adopted. He there- fore considered it as a matter of the last importance, to pre- vent the meeting of the officers on the succeeding day, as proposed in the anonymous summons. The sensibilities of the army were too high to admit of this being forbidden by * General John Armstrong, who was ^ major in the army, and for some time aid-de-camp to Major- General Gates, being for a long time suspected as the author of this and other anonymous papers of the same import, at length acknowledged the authorship, in an article in the United States Magazme, printed in New York, January, 1824. In justification he alleged, "That they were written by himself at the sohcitations of his friends, as the chosen organ to express the sentiments of the officers of the army, and were only an honest and manly, though perhaps an indis-- 'creet endeavour to support puhlick credit and do justice to a long-sufFenngj patieftt, and gallant soldiery." 146> THE LtFE or authority, as a violation of discipline ; but the end was air- swered in another way, and without irritation. The com- mander in chief, in general orders, noticed the anonymous summons, as a disorderly proceeding, not. to be countenan- ced ; and the more effectually to divert the officers from, paying any attention to it, he requested them to meet for the same nominal purpose, but on a day four days subse- quent to the one proposed by the anonymous addresser. The intervening period was improved in preparing the offi- cers for the adoption of moderate measures. Gen. Wash- ington sent for one officer after another, and enlarged in< private on the fatal consequences, and particularly the lossr of character, which would result from the adoption of intem- perate resolutions. His whole personal influence was exer* ted to calm the prevailing agitation. When the officers assembled, their venerable chief preparing to address them, found his eyesight to fail him, on which he observed, " My eyes have grown dim in my country's service, but I never doubted of its justice ;" and then proceeded as follows : " Gentlemen : " By an anonymous summons, an attempt has been made to convene you together. How inconsistent with the rules ©f propriety, how unmilitary, and how subversive of all order and discipline, let the good sense of the army decide. " In the moment of this summons, another anonymous production was sent into circulation, addressed more to the feelings and passions than to the reason and judgement of the army. The author of the piece is entitled to much credit for the goodness of his pen ; and I could wish he had as much credit for the rectitude of his heart; for, as men see through different opticks, and are induced, by the reflect- ing faculties of the mind, to use different means to attain the same end, the author of the address should have had more charity than to mark for suspicion, the man who should recommend moderation and longer forbearance ; or, in other words, who should not think as he thinks, and act as he advises. But he had another plan in view, in which candour and liberality of sentiment, regard to justice, and love of country, have no par.t : and he was right to insinu- ate the darkest suspicion to effect the blackest design.- That the address is drawn with great art, and is design- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 472 ed to Answer the most insiduous purposes ; that it is calcu^ lated to impress the mind with an idea of premeditated injustice in the sovereign power of the United States, and rouse all those resentments which must unavoidably flow from such a belief; that the secret mover of this scheme^ whoever he may be, intended to take advantage of the pas- sions, while they were warmed by the recollection of past distresses, without giving time for cool, deliberate thinking, and that composure of mind which is so necessary to give dignity and stability to measures, is rendered too obvious, by the mode of conducting the business, to need other proof than a reference to the proceeding; Thus much, gentlemen, I have thought it incumbent on me to observe to you, to show upon what principles I opposed the irregular and hasty meeting which was proposed to have been held on 'I'uesday last, and not because I wanted a disposition to give you every opportunity, consistent with your own honour and the dignity of the army, to make known your grievances. If my conduct heretofore has not evinced to you, that I have been a faithful friend to the army, my declaration of it at this time would be equally unavailing and improper. But as I was among the first who embarked in the cause of our common country ; as I have never left your side one mo- ment, but when called from you on publick duty ; as I have been the constant companion and witness of your distresses, and not among the last to feel and acknowledge your merits ; as I have ever considered my own military reputation an inseparably connected with that of the army ; as my heart has ever expanded with joy when I have heard its praises, and my indignation has arisen when the mouth of detraction has been opened against it, it can scarcely be supposed, at this late stage of the war, that I am indifferent to its inter- ests. But how are they to be promoted? The way is plain, says the anonymous addresser. If war continues, remove into the unsettled country ; there establish your- selves, and leave an ungrateful country to defend itself. But who are they to defend ? Our wives, our children, our farms, and other property, which we leave behind us? Or, in this state of hostile separation, are we to take the two first, (the latter cannot be removed, ) to perish in a wilder- ness, with hunger, cold, and nakedness ? If peace takes place, never sheath your swords, says he, until you hav« l48 THE LIFE OP obtained full and ample justice. This dreadful alternative of either deserting our country in the extremest hour of her distress, or turning our arms against it, which is the appar- ent object, unless Congress can be compelled into instant compliance, has something soshockinsj in it, that humanity tevolts at the idea. My God ! what can this writer have in view, by recommending such measures? Can he be a friend to the army? Can he be a friend to this country? Rather is he not an insidious foe ? Some emissary, perhaps from New York, plotting the ruin of both, by sowing the seeds of discord and separation between the civil and mili- tary powers of the continent ? And what a compliment does he pay to our understandings^ when he recommends measures^ in either alternative, impracticable in tiieir nature f But here, gentlemen^ I will drop the curtain, because it would be as imprudent in me to assign my reasons for this opinion, as it would be insulting to your conception to sup- pose you stood in need of them. A moment's reflection will convince every dispassionate mind of the physical im- possibility of carrying either proposal into execution. There might, gentlemen, be an impropriety iri my taking notice in this address to yOu, of an anonymous production : but the manner in which that performance has been intro- duced to the army, the eifect it was intended to have, together with some other circumstances, will amply justify my observations on the tendency of that writing. With respect to the advice given by the author, to suspect the man who shall recommend moderate measures and longer forbearance, I spurn it, as every man who regards that lib- erty and revere? that justice for which we contend, undoubt- edly must ; for, if men are to be precluded from offering their sentiments on a matter which may involve the most serious and alarming consequences that can invite the con. sideration of mankind, reason is of no use to us. The free- dom of speech may be taken away, and dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep, to the slaughter. I cannot in justice to my own belief, and what I have great reason to conceive is the intention of Congress, conclude this address, without giving it as my decided opinion, that that honourable body entertain exalted sentiments of the services of the army^ and from a full conviction of its merits and sufferings will do it complete justice; that their endeavours to discover and GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 149 establish funds for this purpose, has been unwearied, and will not cease till they have succeeded, I have not a doubt. But like all other large bodies, where there is a variety of different interests to reconcile, their determinations are slow. Why then should we distrust them ? and in consequence of that distrust, adopt measures which may cast a shade over that glory which has been so justly acquired, and tarnish the reputation of an army which is celebrated through all Em-ope for its fortitude and patriotism ? And for what is this done ? To bring the object we seek nearer? No ; most certainly, in my opinion, it will cast it at a greater distance. For myself, and I take no merit in giving the assurance, being induced to it from principles of gratitude, veracity, and justice; a grateful sense of the confidence you have ever placed in me ; a recollection of the cheerful assistance, and prompt obedience I have experienced from you, under every vicissitude of fortune, and the sincere affection I feel for an army I have so long had the honour to command, will oblige me to declare in this publick and solemn manner, that in the attainment of complete justice for all your toils and dangers, and in the gratification of every wish, so far as may be done consistently with the great duty I owe my country, and those powers we are bound to respect, you may freely command my services to the utmost extent of my abilities. While I give you these assurances, and pledge myself in the most unequivocal manner to exert whatever ability I am possessed of in your favour, let me entreat you, gentlemen, on your part, not to take any measure, which, viewed in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dignity and sully the glory you have hitherto maintained. Let me request you to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress, that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions which were published to you two days ago ; and that they will adopt the most effectual meas- ures in their power to render ample justice to you, for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me conjure you in the name of our common country, as you value your own sacred honour, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national character of . America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of 160 THE LIFE OF the man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to ovef-- turn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood. " By thus determining and thus acting, you will pursue the plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes ; you will defeat the insidious designs of our enemies, who are compelled to resort from open force to secret artifice. You will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superiour to the pres- sure of the most complicated sufferings ; and you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have ex- hibited to mankind — ^" Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining." The address being ended, Washington withdrew. No person was hardy enough to oppose the advice he had given.* The impression made by his address was irresistible. The happy moment was seized. While the minds of the officers, softened by the eloquence of their beloved commander, were in a yielding state, a resolution was offered and adopted, in which they assured him " that they reciprocated his affec- tionate expressions with the greatest sincerity of which the heart was capable." Before they dispersed, they unanimous- ly adopted several other resolutions, in which they declared, "That no circumstance of distress or danger should induce a conduct that might tend to sully the reputation and glory they had acquired at the price of their blood and eight years faithful service — That they continued to have an un- shaken confidence in the justice of Congress and their coun- try — That they viewed with abhorrence, and rejected with- disdain, the infamous proposition contained in a late anony- mous address to the officers of the army." The storm which had been long gathering, was suddenly dissipated. The army acquired additional reputation, and * " It was happy for the army and country, that when his Excellency had finished and withdrawn, no one rose and observed-^' That General Washington was about to quit the miUtary line laden with honour, and that he had a considerable estate to suppori him with dignity, but that their case was very different.' Had such ideas been thrown out, and properly enlarged upon, the meeting would probably have concluded very differently."— Gfordon's History^ vol. 4. page 357. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 151 the commander in chief gave a new proof of the goodness of his heart, and the soundness of his judgement. Perhaps in no instance did the United States receive from heaven a more signal deliverance through the hands of Washington, than in the happy termination of this serious transaction. If ambition had possessed a single corner of his heart, the opportunity was too favourable, the temptation too splendid, to have been resisted. But his soul was superiour to such views, and his love of country so ardent, and at the same time so pure, that the charms of power, though recommend- ed by the imposing appearance of procuring justice for his unrewarded army, made no impression on his unshaken mind. He viewed the character of a patriot as superiour to that of a sovereign. To be elevated to supreme power,* was less in his esteem than to be a good man. * Such a proposal had been actually made to General Washington. A colonel of the army, of respectable character and advanced years, was the organ of those who entertained views of a strong government, with Washington at its head. He communicated these views in a letter to the commander in chief, and said with reference to prejudices against a monarchy, " It may therefore be requisite to give the head of such a constitution as I propose, some title apparently more moderate ; but if all things were once adjusted, I believe strong arguments might be pro- duced for admitting the title of King, which I conceive would be attended with some material advantages." The following is Washington'^ prompt and indignant reply :~ " Newburgh, Tld May, 1782. "Sir,. "With a mixture of great surprise and astonishment, I have read with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my perusal. Be assured, Sir, no occurrence in the course of the war, has given me more painful sensations, than vour information of Ihere being such ideas existing in the army, as you have expressed, and I must view with abhorrence, and reprehend with severity. For the present, the communication of them will rest in my own bosom, unless some farther agitation of the matter shall make a disclosure necessary. " I am much at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could have given encouragement to an address, which to me seems big with the greatest mischiefs, that can befall my country. If I am not deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. At the same time, in justice to my own feelings, I must add, that no man possesses a more sincere wish to see ample justice done to the army than I do : and, as far as my powers and influence, in a constitutional way, extend, they shall be employed to the utmost of my abiUties to effect it, should there be any occasion. Let me conjure you, then, if you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature. I am, Sir, &c. " Geobge Washington." 1^2 THE LIFE 0^ Instead of turning the discontents of an unpaid army to his own aggrandizement, he improved the late events to stimulate Congress to do them justice. His letter to their President on this occasion was as follows : " The result of the proceedings of the grand convention of the officers, which I have the honour of enclosing to your excellency for the inspection of Congress, will, I flatter myself, be considered as the last glorious proof of patriotism which could have been given, by men who aspire to the dis- tinction of a patriot army ; and will not only confirm their claim to the justice, but will increase their title to the grat- itude of their country. Having seen the proceedings on the part of the army terminate with perfect unanimity, and in a manner entirely consonant to my wishes ; being im- pressed with the liveliest sentiments of affection for those who have so long, so patiently, and so cheerfully suffered and fought under my immediate direction ; having from mo- tives of justice, duty, and gratitude, spontaneously offered myself as an advocate for their rights ; and, having been requested to write to your excellency, earnestly entreating the most speedy decision of Congress upon the subjects of the late address from the army to that honourable body ; it now only remains for me to perform the task I have assumed, and to intercede in their behalf, as I now do, that the sover- eign power will be pleased to verify the predictions I have pronounced of, and the confidence the army have reposed in, the justice of their country. And here I humbly con- ceive it is altogether unnecessary, (while I am pleading the cause of an army which have done and suffered more than any other army ever did in the defence of the rights and liberties of human nature,) to expatiate on their claims to the most ample compensation for their meritorious services, because they are known perfectly to the whole world, and because, (although the topicks are inexhaustible,) enough has already been said on the subject. To prove these asser- tions, to evince that my sentimetns have ever been uniform, and to show what my ideas of the rewards in question have always been, I appeal to the archives of Congress, and call on those sacred deposites to witness for me. And in order that my observations and arguments in favour of a future GEORGE WASHINGTON. 153 adequate provision for the officers of the army may be brought to remembrance again, and considered in a single point of view, without giving Congress the trouble of having recourse to their files, I will beg leave to transmit herewith an extract from a representation made by me to a committee of Congress, so long ago as the 29th of January, 1778, and also the transcript of a letter to the President of Con- gress, dated near Passaic Falls, October 11th, 1780. " That in the critical and perilous moment when the last mentioned communication was made, there was the utmost danger a dissolution of the army would have taken place, unless measures similar to those recommended had been adopted, will not admit a doubt. That the adoption of the resolution granting half pay for life has been attended with all the happy consequences I had foretold, so far as respect, ed the good of the service, let the astonishing contrast be- tween the state of the army at this instant, and at the former period, determine. And that the establishment of funds, and security of the payment of all the just demands of the army, will be the most certain means of prdfeerving the national faith, and future tranquillity of this extensive con- tinent, is my decided opinion. " By the preceding remarks it will readily be imagined, that instead of retracting and reprehending, (from farther experience and reflection,) the mode of compensation so strenuously urged in the enclosures, I am more and more confirmed in the sentiment ; and if in the wrong, suffer me to please myself with the grateful delusion. " For if besides the simple payment of their wages, a far- ther compensation is not due to the sufferings and sacrifices of the officers, then have I been mistaken indeed. If the whole army have not merited whatever a grateful people can bestow, then have I been beguiled by prejudice, and built opinion on the basis of error. If this country should not in the event perform every thing which has been reques. ted in the late memorial to Congress, then will my belief become vain, and the hope that has been excited, void of foundation. And if (as has been suggested for the purpose of inflaming their passions,) the officers of the army are to be the only sufferers by this revolution-; " if retiring from the field they are to grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and contempt — >if they are to wade through the vile mire of de- 14 154 THE LIFE OP pendency, and owe the miserable remnant of that life io charity, which has hitherto been spent in honour;" then shall I have learned what ingratitude is ; then shall I have realized a tale which will embitter every moment of my fu- ture life. "But I am under no such apprehensions : a country res- cued by their arms from impending ruin, will never leave unpaid the debt of gratitude. " Should any intemperate or improper warmth have min- gled itself amongst the foregoing observations, I must entreat your Excellency and Congress, it may be attributed to the effusion of an honest zeal in the best of causes, and that my peculiar situation may be my apology : and I hope I need not on this momentous occasion make any new protesta- tions of personal disinterestedness, having ever renounced for myself the idea of pecuniary reward. The conscious- ness of having attempted faithfully to discharge my duty, and the approbation of my country, will be a sufficient recom* pense for my services. • "I have the honour to be, &c. &;c. " Geo. Washington* *^ His Excellency the President in Congress.''^ This energetic letter, connected with recent events, indu- ced Congress to decide on the claims of the army. These were liquidated, and the amount acknowledged to be due from the United States. Soon after these events, intelligence of a general peace was received.* The reduction of the army was therefore * This was in April, 1783, although for the year previous the event had been anticipated, and hostilities had in a great measure ceased. The French army, after a junction with the American army on the banks of the Hudson, and a grand review by Gen. Washhigton and the Count Rochambeau, had returned to France in September previous, having been in America two and a half years, and rendered important services to the cause of liberty. On the 18th of April, 1783, General Washington thus announced to the army the actual cessation of hostihties : — " The commander in chief orders the cessation of hostilities, between ihe United States of America and the king of Great Britain, to be pub- lickly proclaimed to-morrow at twelve o'clock, at the New Building ; and that the proclamation which will be communicated herewith, be read to- morrow evening, at the head of every regiment and corps of the army; after which, the chaplains, with the several brigades, will render thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, particularly for his overruling the Wrath of man to his own glory, ana causing the rage of war to cease among the nations." GEORGE WASHINGTON, 155 resolved upon, but the mode of effecting it required delibera. tion. To avoid the inconveniences of dismissing a great number of soldiers in a body, furloughs were freely granted on the application of individuals, and after their dispersion, they were not enjoined to return. By this arrangement a critical moment was got over. A great part of an unpaid army was dispersed over the states without tumult or disorder. While the veterans serving under the immediate eye of their beloved commander in chief, manifested the utmost good temper and conduct, a mutinous disposition broke out among some new levies stationed at Lancaster, in Pennsyl- vania. About eighty of this description marched in a body to Philadelphia, where they were joined by some other troops, so as to amount in the whole to three hundred. They marched with fixed bayonets to the state house, in which Congress and the state executive council held their sessions. They placed guards at every door, and threatened the presi- dent and council of the state with letting loose an enraged soldiery upon them, unless they granted their demands in twenty minutes. As soon as this outrage was known to Washington, he detached Gen. Howe with a competent force to suppress the mutiny. This was effected without blood- shed before his arrival. The mutineers were too inconsider- able to commit extensive mischief; but their disgraceful conduct excited the greatest indignation in the breast of the commander in chief, which was expressed in a letter to the president of Congress in the following words. " While I suffer the most poignant distress in observing that a handful of men, contemptible in numbers, and equally so in point of service, (if the veteran troops from the southward have not The proclamation referred to, provided for a general rejoicing, and cour tained the following clause ; — " The glorious task for which we first flew to arms being thus accom- plished, the liberties of our country being fully acknowledged and firmly secured, — by the smiles of Heaven on the purity of our cause, and the ho- nest exertions of a feeble people, determined lo be free, against a powerful nation disposed to oppress them ; and the character of those who have per- severed through every extremity of hardship, suffering, and danger, being immortalized by the illustrious appellation of the Patriot ^rmy,— nothing now remains but for the actors of this mighty scene to preserve a perfect, unvarying consistency of character through the very last act ; to close the drama with applause ; and to retire from the military theatre with the same approbation of angels and me^, which have crowned all their former virtuous actions." 156 THE LIFE OP been seduced by their example,) and who are not worthy to be called soldiers, should disgrace themselves and their coun- try as the Pennsylvania mutineers have done, by insulting the sovereign authority of the United States, and that of their own, I feel an inexpressible satisfliction that even this behaviour cannot stain the name of the American soldiery. It cannot be imputable to, or reflect dishonour on, the army at large ; but on the contrary, it will, by the striking contrast it exhibits, hold up to publick view the other troops in the most advantageous point of light. Upon taking all the cir- cumstances into consideration, I cannot sufficiently express my surprise and indignation at the arrogance, the folly and the wickedness, of the mutineers ; nor can I sufficiently admire the fidelity, the bravery, and patriotism, which must for ever signalize the unsullied character of the other corps of our army. For when we consider that these Pennsylva- nia levies who have now mutinied are recruits and soldiers of a day, who have not borne the heat and burden of the war, and who can have in reality very few hardships to complain of; and when we at the same time recollect that those sol- diers who have lately been furloughed from this army, are the veterans who have patiently endured hunger, nakedness and cold ; who have suffered and bled without a murmur, and who, with perfect good order, have retired to their homes without a settlement of their accounts or a farthing of money in their pockets ; we shall be as much astonished at the vir- tues of the latter, as we are struck with detestation at the proceedings of the former." While arrangements were making for the final dismission of the army, Gen. Washington was looking forward with anxiety to the future destinies of the United States. Much of his attention was devoted to a serious consideration of such establishments as the independence of his country required. On these subjects, he freely communicated with Congress, and recommended that great diligence should be used in forming a well regulated and disciplined militia during peace, as the best means for securing the future tranquillity and respectability of the nation. He also ad- dressed the following circular lettex^ to the Governours of each of the States. OEORGE WASHINGTON. 157 " Head-Q,uarters, Newburgh, June 13, 1783. "Sir, " The object for which I had the honour to hold an appointment in the service of my country, being accomplished, I am now preparing to resign it into the hands of Congress, and return to that doraestick retirement, which, it is well known, I left with the greatest reluctance ; a retirement for which I have never ceased to sigh through a long and painful absence, in which, (remote from the noise and trouble of the world,) I meditate to pass the remainder of life, in a state of undis- turbed repose : but, before I carry this resolution into effect, I think it a duty incumbent on me to make this my last official communi- cation, to congratulate you on the glorious events which Heaven has been pleased to produce in our favour; to offer my sentiments respect- ing some important subjects, which appear to me to be intimately con. nected with the tranquillity of the United States; to take my leave of jour excellency as a publick character ; and to give my final blessing to that country, in whose service I have spent the prime of my life ; for whose sake I have consumed so many anxious days and watchful nights, and whose happiness, being extremely dear to me, will always constitute no inconsiderable part of my own. " Impressed with the liveliest sensibility on this pleasing occasion, I will claim the indulgence of dilating the more copiously on the sub- ject of our mutual felicitation. . When we consider the magnitude of the prize we contended for, the doubtful nature of the contest, and the favourable manner in which it has terminated ; we shall find the great, est possible reason for gratitude and rejoicing. This is a theme that will aflbrd infinite delight to every benevolent and liberal mind, whether the event in contemplation be considered as a source of present en- joyment, or the parent of future happiness ; and we shall have equal occasion to felicitate ourselves on the lot which Providence has as- signed us, whether we view it in a natural, a political, or moral point of light. "The citizens of America, placed in the most enviable condition, as the sole lords and proprietors of a vast tract of continent, compre- hending all the various soils and climates of the world, and abounding with all the necessaries and conveniences of life, are now, by the late satisfactory pacification, acknowledged to be possessed of absolute freedom and independency : they are fronji this period to be consider-_ ed as the actors on a most conspicuous theatre, which seems to be pe- culiarly designed by Providence for the display of human greatness and felicity. Here they are not only surrounded with every thing that can contribute to the completion of private and domestick enjoy, ment ; but Heaven has crowned all its other blessings, by giving a surer opportunity for political happiness, than any other nation has ever been favoured with. Nothing can illustrate these observations more forcibly than a recollection of the happy conjuncture of times and circumstances, under which our republick assumed its rank among the nations. — The foundation of our empire was not laid in a gloomy age of ignorance and superstition, but at an epocha when the rights of mankind were better understood and more clearly defined, than at any former period. Researches of the human mind after social hap- piness have l?een carried to a great extent; the treasures of knowledge, 14* 158 THE LIFE aF acquired by the labours of philosophers, sages, and legislators, tlirough a long succession of years, are laid open for us, and tlieir collected wisdom may be happily applied in the establishment of our forms of government. The free cultivation of letters, the unbounded extension of commerce, the progressive refinement of manners, the growing liberality of sentiment; and,, above all, the pure and benign light of revelation, have had a meliorating influence on mankind, and in- creased the blessings of society. At this auspicious period, the Uni- ted States came into existence as a nation ; and if their citizens should not be completely free and happy, the fault will be entirely their own.. " Such is our situation, and such are our prospects. But notwith- standing the cup of blessing is thus reached out to us ; notwithstand- ing happiness is ours, if we have a disposition to seize the occasion, and make it our own ; yet it appears to me there is an option still left to the United States of America, whether they will be respectable and prosperous, or contemptible and miserable as a nation. This is the time of their political probation : this is the moment when the eyes of the whole world are turned upon them : this is the time to establish or ruin their national character for ever : this is the favourable moment to give such a tone to the federal government, as will enable it to an- swer the ends of its institution ;. or, this may be the ill-fated moment for relaxing the powers of the union, annihilating the cement of the confederation, and exposing us to become the sport of European pel- iticks, which may play one state against another, to prevent their growing importance, and to serve their own interested purposes. For, according to the system of policy the states shall adopt at this moment, they will stand or fall ; and, by their conformation or lapse, it is yet to be decided, whether the revolution must ultimately be considered as a blessing or a curse ; — a blessing or a curse, not to the present age alone, for with our fate will the destiny of unborn millions be involved. "With this conviction of the importance of the present crisis, silence in me would be a crime , I will therefore speak to your excel- lency the language of freedom and sincerity, without disguise. I am aware, however, those who differ from me in political sentiments may perhaps, remark, I am stepping out of the proper line of my duty ; and they may possibly ascribe to arrogance or ostentation, what I know is alone the result of the purest intention. But the rectitude of my own heart, which disdains such unworthy motives ; the part I have hitherto acted in life ; the determination I have formed of not taking share in publick business hereafter ; the ardent desire I feel, and shall continue to manifest, of quietl}'- enjoying in private life, after all the toils of war, the benefits of a wise and liberal government, will, I flat- ter myself, sooner or later, convince my countrymen, that I could have no sinister views in delivering with so little reserve the opinions con- tained in this address. "There are four things which I humbly conceive are essential to the well being, I may even venture to say to the existence, of the Uni- ted States as an independent power. " 1st. An indissoluble miion of the states under one federal head. "2dly. A sacred regard to publick justice. " 3dly. The adoption of a proper peace establishment. And, *' 4thly. The prevalence of tliat pacifick and friendly dispositioii GEOBGE WASHINGTON. 159^ among the people of the United States, which will induce them to forget their local prejudices and policies ; to make those mutual con- cessions which are requisite to the general prosperity ; and, in some instances, to sacrifice their individual advantages to the interest of the community. "These are the pillars on wliich the glorious fabrick of our inde- pendency and national character must be supported. Liberty is the basis — and whoever would dare to sap the fomidation, or overturn the structure, under whatever specious pretext he may attempt it, will merit the bitterest execration, and the severest punishment, v.hich can be inflicted by liis injured country. " On the three first articles I will make a few observations ; leaving the last to the good sense and serious consideration of those unmediate- ly concerned. "Under the first head, although it may not be necessary or proper for me in this place to enter into a particular disquisition of the princi-. pies of the union, and to take up the great question which has been frequently agitated, whether it be expedient and requisite for the states to delegate a larger proportion of power to Congress, or not ; yet it v.'ill be a part of my duty, and that of every true patriot, to assert, without reserve, and to insist upon tlae following positions : — That unless the states will suffer Congress to exercise those prerogatives they are undoubtedly invested with by the constitution, everv thing must very rapidly tend to anarchy and confusion : That it is indispen-. sible to the happiness of the individual states, that there should be lodged, somewhere, a supreme power to regtdate and govern the gen- eral concerns of the confederated republick, without which the union cannot be of long duration : That there must be a faithful and pointed compliance on the part of every state with the late proposals and demands of Congress, or the most fatal consequences will ensue : That whatever measures have a tendency to dissolve the union, or contribute to violate or lessen the sovereign authority, ought to be considered as hostile to the liberty and independency of America, and the authors of them treated accordingly.. And, lastly, that miless- we can be enabled by the concurrence of the states to participate of the fruits of the revolution, and enjoy the essential benefits of civil society, under a form of government so free and uncorrupted, so happily guarded against the danger of oppression, as has been devised and adopted by the articles of confederation, it will be a subject of regret, that so much blood and treasure have been lavished for no purpose ; that so many sufferings have been encountered without a com^. pensation, and that so many sacrifices have been made in vain. Many other considerations might here be adduced to prove, that without an entire conformity to the spirit of the union, we cannot exist as an independent power. It wUl be sufficient for my purpose to mention but one or two, which seem to me of the greatest importance. It is only in our united character, as an empire, that our independence is acknowledged, that our power can he regarded, or our credit supported among foreign nations. The treaties of the European powers with the United States of America, will have no validity on a dissolution of the imion. We shall be left nearly in a state of nature ; or we may find, by our own unhappy experience, that there is a natural and 160 THE LIFE OF necessary progi-cssion from the extreme of anarchy to the extreme of tyranny ; and that arbitrary power is most easily established on the ruins of liberty abused to licentiousness. •' As to the second article, which respects the performance of publick justice, Congress have, in their late address to the United States, almost exhausted the subject ; they have explained their ideas so fully, and have enforced the obligations the states are under to render complete justice to all the publick creditors, with so much dignity and energy, that, in my opinion, no real friend to the honour and independency of America can hesitate a single moment respecting the propriety of complying with the just and honourable measures proposed. If their arguments do not produce conviction, I know of nothing that will have greater influence, especially when we reflect that the system referred to, being the result of the collected wisdom of the continent, must be esteemed, if not perfect, certainly the least objectionable of any that could be devised ; and that, if it should not be carried into immediate execution, a national bankruptcy, with all its deplorable consequences, will take place before any different plan can possibly be proposed or adopted; so pressing are the present circumstances, and such is the alternative now offered to the states. *' The ability of the country to discharge the debts which have been incurred in its defence, is not to be doubted; and inclination, I flatter myself, will not be wanting. The path of our duty is plain before us ; honesty will be found, on every experiment, to be the best and only true policy. Let us then, as a nation, be just ; let us fulfil the publick contracts which Congress had undoubtedly a right to make for the pur- pose of carrying on the war, with the same good faith we suppose ourselves bound to perform our private engagements. In the mean time, let an attention to the cheerful performance of their proper busi- ness, as individuals, and as members of society, be earnestly inculcated on the citizens of America ; then will they strengthen the bands of government, and be happy under its protection. Every one will reap the fruit of his labours ; every one will enjoy his own acquisi- tions, without molestation and without danger, " In this state of absolute freedom and perfect security, who will grudge to yield a very little of his property to support the common interest of society, and ensure the protection of government ? Who does not remember the frequent declarations at the commencement of the war, That we should be completely satisfied, if, at the expense of one half, we could defend the remainder of our possessions ? Where is the man to be found, who wishes to remain in debt, for the defence of his own person and property, to the exertions, the bravery, and the . blood of others, without making one generous eflfort to pay the debt of honour and of gratitude ? In what part of the continent shall we find any man, or body of men, who would not blush to stand up and propose measures purposely calculated to rob the soldier of his stipend, and the publick creditor of his due ? And were it possible that such a flagrant instance of injustice could ever happen, would it not excite the general indignation, and tend to bring down upon the authors of such measures the aggravated vengeance of Heaven ? If, after all, a spirit of disunion, or a temper of obstinacy and perverseness should manifest itself in any of the states ; if such an migracious dispositiou GEORGE WASHINGTON. 161 should attempt to frustrate all the happy effects that might be expect, ed to flow from the union ; if there should be a refusal to comply with requisitions for funds to discharge the annual interest of the publick debts ; and if that refusal should revive all those jealousies, and pro- duce all those evils, which are now happily removed, Congress, who have in all their transactions shown a great degree of magnanimity and justice, will stand justified in the sight of God and man ! and that state alone, which puts itself in opposition to the aggregate wisdom of the continent, and follows such mistaken and pernicious councils, will be responsible for all the consequences. " For my own part, conscious of having acted while a servant of the publick, in the manner I conceived best suited to promote the real in- terests of my country ; having in consequence of my fixed belief, in some measure pledged myself to the army, that their country would finally do them complete and ample justice ; and not wishing to con- ceal any instance of my official conduct from the eyes of the world, I have thought proper to transmit to your excellency the enclosed col- lection of papers, relative to the half pay and commutation granted by Congress, to the ofl[icers of the army. From these communica- tions, my decided sentiment will be clearly comprehended, together with the conclusive reasons which induced me, at an early period, to recommend the adoption of this measure in the most earnest and se- rious manner. As the proceedings of Congress, the army, and my- self, are open to all, and contain, in my opinion, sufficient information, to remove the prejudices and errours which may have been entertained by any, I think it unnecessary to say any thing more than just to ob- serve, that the resolutions of Congress, now alluded to, are as undoubt- edly and absolutely binding upon the United States, as the most solemn acts of confederation or legislation. " As to the idea which I am informed, has in some instances pre- vailed, that the half pay and commutation are to be regarded merely in the odious light of a pension, it ought to be exploded for ever : that provision should be viewed, as it really was, a reasonable compensa- tion offered by Congress, at a time when they had nothing else to give to officers [of the army, for services then to be performed. It was the only means to prevent a total dereliction of the service. It was a part of their hire ; I may be allowed to say, it was the price of their blood, and of your independency. It is therefore more than a com. mon debt ; it is a debt of honour ; it can never be considered as a pen- sion, or gratuity, nor^cancelled until it is fairly discharged. " With regard to the distinction between officers and soldiers, it is sufficient that the uniform experience of every nation of the world com- bined with our own, proves the utility and propriety of the discrimina- tion. Rewards in proportion to the aid the publick draws from them, are unquestionably due to all its servants. In some lines, the soldiers have perhaps, generally, had as ample compensation for their services^ by the large bounties which have been paid them, as their officers will receive in the proposed commutation ; in others, if, besides the dona- tion of land, the payment of arrearages of clothing and wages, (in which articles all the component parts of the army must be put upon the same footing,) we take into the estimate the bounties many of the soldiers have received, and the gratuity of one year's full pay, which 162 THE LIFE OF is promised to all, possibly their situation, (every circumstance being- duly considered,) will not be deemed less eligible than that of the offi- cers. Should a farther reward, however, be judnfed equitable, I will venture to assert, no "man will enjoy greater satistaetion than myself, in an exemption from taxes for a limited time, (which has been peti- tioned for in some instances,) or any other adequate imnnmity or com. pcnsalion granted to the brave defenders of their country's cause. But neither the adoption or rejcetion of this proposition will, in any jnanner, atlect, much less militate against, the act of Congress, by which they have otiered five years' full pay, in lieu of the half pay for life, which had been before promised to the otlicers of the army. " Before I conclude the subject on publick justice, I cannot omit to mention the obligations this country is vnider to that meritorious class of veterans, the non-commissioned othcers and privates, who have been discharged for inability, in consequence of the resolution of Congress, of April 23, 1782, on an annual pension for life. Their peculiar suticr- ings, their singular merits and claims to that provision, need only to be known, to interest the feelings of humanity in their behalf. No,, thing but a punctual payment of their aimual allowance, can rescue them from the most complicated misery ; and nothing could be a more melancholy and distressing sight, than to behold those who have slied their blood, or lost their limbs in tJie service of their country, witliout a shelter, without a friend and without the means of obtaining any of the comforts or necessaries of life, compelled to beg their bread daily from door to door. Sutfer me to recommend those of this description, belonging to your state, to the warmest patronage of your excellency and your legislature. ♦' It is necessary to say but a few words on the third topiek which was proposed, and which regards i)articularly the defence of the re- publick — as tliere can be little doubt but Congress will recommend a proper peace establishment for the United States, in which a due at- tention will be paid to the importance of placing the militia of the Union upon a regular and respectable footing. If this should be the case, I should beg leave to urge the great advantage of it in the strong- est terms. " The militia of this country must be considered as the palladium of our security, and the first effectual resort in case of hostility. It is essential, therefore, that the same system should pervade the whole; that the formation and discipline of the militia of the continent should be absolutely uniform ; and that the same species of arms, accoutre- ments, and military apparatus, should be introduced in every i)art of the United States. No one, who has not learned it from experience, can conceive the difficulty, expense, and confusion, which result from aeon, ti'ary system, or the vague arrangements which have hitherto prevailed. " If, in treating of political points, a greater latitude than usual has been taken in the course of the address ; the importance of the crisis, and the magnitude of the objects in discussion, must be my apology. It is, however, neither my wish nor expectation, that the preceding observations should claim any regard, exct^pt so far as they phall appear to be dictated by a good intention, consonant to the im- mutable rules of justice ; calculated to produce a liberal system of policy, and founded on whatever experience may have been acquired. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 163 by a long and close attention to publick business. Here I might speak with more confidence, from my actual observations ; and it" it would not swell this letter, (already too prolix,) beyond the bounds I had prc^ scribed myself, I could demonstrate to every mind, open to conviction, that in less time, and with much less expense than has been incurred, the war might have been brought to the same happy conclusion, if the resources of the continent could have been properly called forth ; that the distresses and disappointments which have very often occur- red, have, in too many instances, resulted more from a want of energy in the continental government, than a deficiency of means in the par- ticular states ; that the incfficacy of the measures, arising from thd want of an adequate authority in the supreme powcjr, from a partial compliance with the requisitions of Congress, in some of the states, and from a failure of punctuality in others, while they tended to damp the zeal of those who were rhore willing to exert themselves, served also to accumulate the expenses of the war, and to frustrate the best concerted plans ; and that the discouragement occasioned by the complicated difficulties and embarrassments, in which our affairs were by this means involved, would have long ago produced the dissolution of any army, less patient, less virtuous, and less persevering, than tliat which I have had tlie honour to command. But while I mention those things which are notorious facts, as the defects of our federal constitution, particularly in the prosecution of a war, I beg it may bo understood, that has I. have ever taken a pleasure in gratefully acknow- ledging the assistance and support I have derived from every class of' citizens ; so shall I always be happy to do justice to the unparalleled exertions of the individual states, on many interesting occasions. " I have thus freely disclosed what I wished, to make known, before 1 surrendered up my publick trust to those who committed it to me. The task is now accomplished ; I now bid adieu to your excellency, as the chief magistrate of your state; at the same time, I bid a last farewell to the cares of office, and all the employments of publick life; " It remains, then, to be my final and only request, that your excel- lency, will communicate these sentiments to your legislature, at their next meeting ; and that they may be considered as the legacy of one who has ardently wished, on all occasions ,to be useful to his country, and who, even in the shade of retirement, will not fail to implore the divine benediction upon it. "I now make it my earnest prayer, that God would have you, and the state over which you preside, in his holy protection ; that he would incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government ; to entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another; for their fellow-citizens of the United States at large, and particularly for their brethren who have served in the field ; and, finally, that ho would most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacifick temper of the mind, which were the character- isticks of the divine Author of our blessed religion ; without an hum- ble imitation of whose example, in these things, we can never hope to be a happy nation. " I have the honour to be, &c. " Geo. Washington." •W 164 THE LIFE OF The second of November was fixed for discharging that part of the army which was. engaged to serve during the war. On that day, Gen. Washington issued his farevveli orders to the armies of the United States in the most endear- ing language. After giving them his advice respecting their future conduct, and imploring the choicest of heaven's bless- ings in their favour, he bade them an affectionate farewell.* On the 25th of the same month, the British evacuated New York, and Gen. Washington made his publick entry into it, where he was received with every mark of respect and attention. The hour now approached in which it became necessary for the American chief to take leave of his officers who had been endeared to him by a long series of common sufferings and dangers. This was done in a solemn manner. The officers having previously assembled for the purpose. Gen. Washington joined them, and calling for a glass of wine, thus addressed them : " With an heart full of love and gra*. titude I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honourable." having drank, he added — " I cannot come to each of you, to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take me by the hand." Gen. Knox being next, turned to him. Incapable of utterance, Washington grasped his hand and embraced him. The officers came up successively, and he took an affectionate leave of each of them. Not a word was articulated on either side. A majestic silence pre- vailed. The tear of sensibility glistened in every eye. The tenderness of the scene exceeded all description. When the last of the officers had taken his leave, Washington left the room and passed through the corps of light infantry, to the place of embarkation. The officers followed in a solemn mute procession, with dejected countenances. On his enter- ing the barge to cross the North river, he turned towards the companions of his glory, and by waving his hat, bid them a silent adieu. Some of them answerd this last signal of respect and affection with tears ; and all of them hung upon the barge which conveyed him from their sight, till they could no longer distinguish in it the person of their" beloved commander in chief. * For this Address, see Appendix. GEOKGE WASHINGTON. 165 The army being disbanded, Washington proceeded to An- napolis, then the seat of Congress, to resign his commission. On his way thither, he, of his own accord, delivered to the comptroller of accounts in Philadelphia, an account of the expenditure of all the publick money he had ever received. This was in his own handwriting, and every entry was made in a very particular manner. Vouchers were produced for every item except for secret intelligence and service, which amounted to no more than 1,982Z. 10^. sterling. The whole whi<5h m the course of eight years of war, had passed through his hands, amounted only to 14,479Z. 18s. 9d. ster- ling. Nothing was charged or retained for personal ser- vices ; and actual disbursements had been managed with such economy and fidelity, that they were all covered by the above moderate sum. After accounting for all his expenditures of publick money, (secret service money for obvious reasons excepted,) with all the exactness which established forms required from the inferiour officers of his army, he hastened to resign into the hands of the fathers of his country, the powers with which they had invested him. This was done in a publick audi- ence. Congress received him as the founder and guardian of the republick. While he appeared before them, they si- lently retraced the scenes of danger and distress through which they hacf passed together. They recalled to mind the blessings of freedom and peace purchased by his arm. They gazed with wonder on their fellow-citizen who appeared more great and worthy of esteem in resigning his power, than he had done in gloriously using it. Every heart was big with emotion. Tears of admiration and gratitude burst from every eye. The general sympathy was felt by the re- signing hero, and wet his cheek with a manly tear. After a decent pause, he addressed Thomas Mifflin, the President of Congress, in the following words : ♦' Mr. President, " The great events on which my resignation depended, having at length taken place, I have now the honour of offering my sincere con- gratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself before them to surrender into their hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the service of my county. " Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of beconx- ing a respectable nation, I resign with satisfa'ction the appointment 15 166 THE LIFE OF I accepted witli diffidence ; a diffidence in my abilities to accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of Heaven. " The successful termination of the war has verified the most san- guine expectations ; and my gratitude for the interposition of Provi- dence, and the assistance I have received from my counjtrymen, in- creases with every review of the momentous contest. '* While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, I should do injustice to my own feelings, not to acknowledge in this place the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the persons who have been attached to my person during the war. It was impossible the choice of confidential officers to compose my family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recommend in particular, thoso who have continued in the service to the present moment, as worthy of the favourable notice and patronage of Congress. " I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last solemn act of my official life,, by commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superin. tendencc of them to his holy keeping. " Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action; and, bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, imder whose orders I have long acted, I here offer my commis* sion, and take my leave of all the employments of publick life."* * The commission now returned to Congress, had been received from them shortly after the commencement of hostilities- It was accompanied with a unanimous resolution of the delegates of the United Colonies — " That they would maintain, assist, and adhere to George Washington, with their lives and fortunes, in the cause of American liberty." The commission, drawn by a special committee, was in the following words: " The delegates of the United Colonies of New Hampshire, Massachu- setts' Bay, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Penn- sylvania, the Counties of Newcastle, Kent, and Sussex, on Delaware; Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and South Carohna, " To George Washington^ Esq. " We, reposing special trust and confidence in your patriotism, valour, conduct, and fidelity, do by these presents constitute and appoint you to bo General, and Commander in Chief of the army of the United Colonies, and of all the forces now raised or to be raised by them, and of all others who shall voluntarily offer their service and join the said army, for the defence of American liberty, and for repelling every hostile invasion thereof; and vou are hereby vested wiih full power and authority, to act as you shall ttiink for the good and welfare of the service. " And we do hereby strictly charge and require all officers and soldiers under your command, to be obedient to your orders, and diligent in the exercise of their several duties. " And we do also enjoin and require you to be careful in exercising the great trust reposed in yon, by causing strict discipline and order to be observed in the army, and that the soldiers be duly exercised and pro- vide{l with all convenient necessaries. "And you are to regulate your conduct in every respect by the rule? and discipline of war, (as herewith given you,) and punctually to observe and follow such orders and directions from time to time, as you shall re- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 167 This address being ended, Gen. Washington advanced and delivered his commission into the hands of the President of Congress, who replied as follows : " The United States in Congress assembled, receive with emotions too affecting for utterance, the solemn resignation of the authorities under which you have led their troops with success, through a peril- ous and doubtful war. " Called upon by your country to defend its invaded rights, you ac- cepted the sacred charge before it had formed alliances, and whilst it was without friends or a government to support you. " You have conducted the great military contest with wisdom and fortitude, invariably regarding the rights of the civil power through all disasters and changes. You have by the love and confidence of your fellow-citizens, enabled them to display tlicir martial genius, and transmit their fame to posterity : you have persevered till these Uni- ted States, aided by a magnanimous king and nation, have been ena- bled under a just Providence, to close the war in safety, freedom, and independence ; on which happy event we sincerely join you in con- gratulations. " Having defended the standard of liberty in this new world ; hav- ing taught a lesson useful to those who inflict, and to those who feel oppression, you retire from the great theatre of action with the bless-^ ceive from this, or a future Congress of these United Colonies, or com- mittee of Congress. " This commission to continue in force, until revoked by this, or a future Congress. {Signed,) " Peyton Randolph, President. (Attest.) " Charles Thomson, Secretary.. ''June 17th, 1775." At the time this commission was accepted, the United Coloniesh had ne. assurance of foreign assistance, and were without established government, arms, magazines, forts, money, trade, navy, disciplined troops, or experi- encea officers. At the same time they were denounced by their sovereign as in a state of rebellion, Washington, by accqjting the command of their armies, not only subjected one of the largest estates in America to confiscation, but his life to execution. The diffidence he avowed on the occasion, was not the common cant of successful candidates for promotion, nor did it arise from apprehensions of personal danger;, but was the offspring of exces- sive modesty. Though willing to risk every thing on the contest, he really distrusted his ability to contend in regular war, with the experi- enced Generals of Great Britain. The doubts and fears which for some time kept him in suspense, at length yielded to a conviction of duty, and the earnest invitation of friends, who appreciated his talents more cor- rectly than he did himself. On the event of his declining the high com- mission, (as was for some time expected,) it was privately resolved to confer it on Gen. Ward, of Massachusetts. What would have been the issue of the military opposition of America conducted by that much es- teemed officer, no one can^ tell ; but without invidious comparison, it may be safely affirmed, that it could not have been more suceessful than under tjie auspices of Washington.. 168 THE LIFE OF ings of your fellow-citizens ; but the glory of your virtues will' not terminate with your military command, it will continue to animate remotest ages. We feel with you our obligations to the army in gen- eral, and will particularly charge ourselves with the interest of those confidential ofScers who have attended your person to this affecting moment. " We join you in commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, beseeching him to dispose the hearts and minds of its citizens to improve the opportunity afforded them of becoming a happy and respectable nation ; and for you, we address to him our earnest prayers, that a life so beloved, may be fos- tered with all his care ; that your days may be happy as they have been illustrious, and that He will finally give you that reward which this world cannot give," The miHtary services of Gen. Washington, which ended with this interesting day, were as great as ever were render- ed by any man to any nation. They were at the same time disinterested. How dear would not a mercenary man have sold such toils, such dangers, and above all, such successes ? what schemes of grandeur and of power would not an ambi- tious man have built upon the affections of the people and of the army ? The gratitude of America was so lively, that any thing asked by her resigning chief, would have been rea- dily granted. He asked nothing for himself, his family, or* relations ; but indirectly solicited favours for the confidential officers who were attached to his person* These were young gentlemen without fortune, who had served him in the capa- city of Aids.de-Camp. To have omitted the opportunity which then offered, of recommending them to their country's noticej would have argued a degree of insensibility in the breast of their friend. The only privilege distinguishing him from other private citizens, which the retiring Wash- ington did or would receive from his grateful country, was a right of sending and receiving letters free of postage. The American chief, having by his own voluntary act, become one of the people, hastened with ineffable delight to his seat at Mount Vernon, on the banks of the Potomack. There, in a short time, the most successful General in the world, became the most diligent farmer in Virginia. To pass suddenly from the toils of the first commission in the United States to the care of a farm — to exchange the instruments of war, for the implements of husbandry, and to become at once the patron and example of ingenious agri- GEORGE WASHITs'GTON. 169 cultiirej would to most men have been a difficult task.* But to the elevated mind of Washington, if was natural and de- lightful. From his example, let the commanders of armies learn, that the fame which is acquired by the sword, without guilt or ambition, may be preserved without power or splen- dour in private life. CHAP. X. General Washington, on retiring from publick life, devotes himself to agricultural pursuits.. Favours- inland navigation. Declines offered emoluments from it. Urges an alteratioa of the fundamental rules of the society of the Cincinnati. Regrets the defects of the Federal sys- tem, and recommends a revisal of it.. Is appointed a member of the continental convention for that purpose, which, after hesitation, he ac- cepts. Is chosen President thereof. Is solicited to accept the Presi- dency of the United States* Writes sundry letters expressive of the conflict in his mind, between duty and inclination. Answers applicants for offices. His reluctance to enter on publick life. 1783^1789. The sensations of Washington on retiring from publick business are thus- expressed : — *' I feel as a wearied traveller must do< wha, after treading many a painful step with a heavy burden on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, having: reached the haven to which all the former were di- rected, and from his house top is looking back and tracing with an eager eye, tlie meanders by which he escaped the quicksands and mires which lay in his way, and into which none but the all-, powerful Guide acd Dispenser of human events^ could have prevented his falling. * The previous anxiety of Washington for the retirement of private life, is thus expressed in a letter to the Marquis de Chastellux, dated Princeton, October 13th, 1783 : " Having the appearance, and indeed the enjoyment of peace, without the final declaration of it, I, who am only waitmg for the ceremonials, or till the Bntish forces shall have lakeri their leave of New York, am held in- an awkward and disagreeable situation, being anxiously desirous to ^it the walks of publick life, and under my owa vine and my own fig tree, to seek those enjoyments, and that relaxation, which a mind that has been constantly upon the atretch for more thanj eight years, stands so much in want of." 15* 170 THE LIFE OF " I have become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomack, and, under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig tree, free from the bustle of a camp, and the busy scenes of publick life, I am so- lacing myself with those tranquil enjoyments of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit of fame — the statesman, whose watchful days and sleepless nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the weK fare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe was insufEcient for us all — and tlie courtier, who is alwayy^ watching the countenance of his prince, in the hope of catching a gracious smile, can have very little conception. I have not only retired from all publick employments, but am retiring within myself, and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of private life with heartfelt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased with all ; and this, my dear friend, being the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers." * Agriculture, which had always been the favourite era- ployment of Washington, was now resumed with increasing delight. Tlie energies of his active mind were devoted to this first and most useful art. No improvements in the con-^ struction of farming utensils, no valuable experiments in husbandry,, escaped his attention. He saw with regret, the miserable system of cultivation which prevailed too gener- ally in his native country, and wished to introduce a better. With this view, he engaged in a correspondence with some of the distinguished agriculturists in Great Britain, partic- ularly the celebrated Arthur Young.f He traced the dif- * The habits of Washington in his retirement, (if retirement it might be called') for his hospitable mansion was continually thronged with distin- guished European and American visiters,) are stated by Mr. Sparks to ave been uniform, and nearly the same as they had been, previously to the war. "He rose before the sun, and employed himself in his study, writing letters or reading, until the hour of breakfast. When breakfast was over, his horse was ready at the door, and he rode to his farms and gave directions for the day to the managers and labourers. Horses were likewise prepared for his guests, whenever they chose to accompany him, or to amuse themselves by excursions into the country. Returning from his fields, and despatching such business as happened to be on hand, he went again to his study, and continued ther« until three o'clock, when he was summoned to dinner. Tlie remainder of the day arid evening were devoted to company, or to recreation in the family circle. At ten he retired to rest. From these habits he seldom deviated, unless com- pelled to do so by particular circumstances."' t Mr. Young was desirous of publishing this correspondence, and ap- plied to Gen. Washington for permission to do so. Under date of Dec. 4th, 1778, Gen. Washrngton, with characteristick modesty and nobleness of mind, in concluding his reply, remarked as follows ; " I can only say fbr myself, that 1 have endeavoured, in a state of tranquil retirement, to keep myself as much from the eye of the world as I possibly could. I have atudiqusly avoided, as much as was in my power, to give any cause 6E0EGE WASHINGTON. ITI (event states of agriculture in the two countries, in a great degree to the following obvious principles. In Great Bri- tain, land was dear, and labour cheap. In Anierica the re- verse took place to such a degree, that manuring land, was comparatively neglected, on the mistaken, short sighted idea, that it was cheaper to clear and cultivate new fields, than to improve and repair such as were old. To this rad- ical errour, which led to idleness and a vagabond dispersed, population, he opposed the whole weight of his influence. His example and recommendations tended to revolutionize the agriculture of his country, as his valour had revolution- ized its government.* The extension of inland navigation occupied much of Washington's attention, at this period of exemption from publick cares. Soon after peace was proclaimed,*!" he made for ill-natured or impertinent comments on my conduct; and I should be very unhappy to have any thing done on my behalf (however distant in itself from impropriety) which should give occasion for one officious tongue to use my name with indelicacy. For i wish, moet devoutly, to glide silently and unnoticed through the remainder of life. This is my heartfelt wish, and these are my undisguised feeUngs. After having sub- mitted them confiden^aliy to you, I have such a reUanee upon your pru- dence, as to leave it with you to da what you think, upon a full consider- ation of the matter, shall be wisest and best." * The views of Washington relative to the emancipation of the negra slaves, may not at this time be uninteresting ; and we find no more ap- propriate place than this, to introduce them. In a letter to the Marquia de La Fayette, May 10th, 1786, he says: "The benevolence of your heart, my dear Marquis, is so conspicuous upon all occasions, that I never wonder at any fresh proofs of it ; but your late purchase of an estate in the colony of Cayenne,, with a view of emancipating the slaves on it, is a generous and noble proof of your humanity. Would to God a like spirit might diffuse itself generally into the minds of the people of this- country. But I despair of seeing it. Some petitions were presented to- the Assembly [of Virginia] at its last session, for the abolition of slavery, but they could scarcely obtain a reading. To set the slaves afloat at once, would, 1 really believe, be productive of much inconvenience and mischief; but by degrees it certainly might and assuredly ought to be effected; and that too by legislative authority." t Gen. Washington had turned his attention to this- important subject before the final conclusion of peace. In the letter to- the Marquis of Chastellux, of Oct. 12th, 1783, quoted in a previous note, he says : " I have lately made a tour through the Lakes George and Champlairt as far as Crown Point— then returning to Schenectada, I proceeded up the Mohawk river to Fort Schuyler, (formerly Fort Stanwix,) crossed over Wood creek, which empties into the Oneida Lake, and affords the water communication with Lake Ontario;- I then traversed the country to the head of the eastern branch of the Susquehannah, and viewed the Lake Otsego, and the portage between that lake and the Mohawk river at Canajoharrie. Prompted by these actual observations, I could not help taking & I*if2 THE LIFE OP a tour as far west as Pittsburg, and also traversed the west- ern parts of New England and New York, and examined for himself the difficulties of bringing the trade of the west to different points on the Atlantick. Possessed of an ac- curate knowledge of the subject, he corresponded with the governours of different states^ and other influential charac- ters. To them he suggested the propriety of making by publick authority, an appointment of commissioners of in- tegrity and ability, whose duty it should be, after accurate examination, to ascertain the nearest and best portages be- tween such of the eastern and western rivers as headed near to each other, though they ran in opposite directions ; and also to trace the rivers west of the Ohio, to their sources and mouths, as they respectively emptied either into the Ohio, or the lakes of Canada, and to make an accurate map of the whole, with observations on the impediments to be overcome, and the advantages to be acquired on the com- pletion of the work. The views of Washington in advocating the extension of inland navigation were grand, and magnificent. He considered it as an effectual mean of cementing the union of the states. In his letter to the Governour of Virginia, he observed—-" I need not remark to you, sir, that the flanks and rear of the United States are possessed by other pow- ersy and formidable ones too ; nor need I press the necessity of applying the cement of interest to bind all parts of the Union together by indissoluble bonds— especially of binding tliat part of it which lies immediately west of us, to the middle states. For what ties, let me ask, should we have upon those people; how entirely unconnected with them more contemplative and extenswe view of the Tast inland navigation of these United States, from maps, and the information of others, and could not but be struck with the immense diffusion and importance of it, and with the goodness of that Providence which has dealt her favours t» us with so profuse a hand. Would to God we may have wisdom enough to. make a good use of them. I shall not rest contented till I have ex- plored the Western part of this country, and traversed those lines (or ft great part of them,) which have given bounds to a new empire." Afterwards, in a letter to the sarfle, dated Sept. 1785, he says: "I give the chief of my time to rural amusements, but I have lately been active in instituting a plan, which, if success attend it, (and of which I have no doubt,) maybe productive of great political, as well as commer- cial advantages, to the states on the Atlantick, especially the middle ones. It is the improving and extending the inland navigation of the river» Potomack and James, and communicating them with the western waters, by the shortest and easiest portages, and good roads." GBOBOE WASHINGTON. 173 shall we be, and what troubleg may we not apprehend, if the Spaniards on their right, and Great Britain on their loft, instead of throwing impediments in their way as they do now, should hold out lures for their trade and alliance ? When they get strength, which will he sooner than most people conceive, what will be the consequence of their hav- ing formed close commercial connexions with both or either of those powers ? It needs not, in my opinion, (he gift of prophecy to foretell." After stating the same thing to a member of Congress, he proceeds, " It may be asked how are wo to prevent this ? Happily for us the way is plain. Our immediate interests, as well as remote political advan- tages, point to it ; whilst a combination of circumstances render the present time more favourable than any other to accomplish it. Extend the inland navigation of the east- ern waters; communicate them as near as possible with those which run westward ; open these to the Ohio ; open also such as extend from the Ohio towards lake Erie ; and we shall not only draw the produce of the western settlers, but the peltry and fur trade of the lakes also, to our ports ; thus adding an immense increase to our exports, and binding those people to us by a chain that can never be broken."* The Virginia legislature acted on the recommendation of Gen. Washington, to the extent of his wishes ; and in coD- sequence thereof, works of the greatest utility have been nearly accomplished. They went one step farther, and by a legislative act vested in him, at the expense of the state, one hundred and fifty shares in the navigation of the rivers Potomack and James. The act for this purpose was intro- duced with the following preamble : " Whereas, it is the de- sire of the representatives of this commonwealth, to embrace every suitable occasion of testifying their sense of the un- exampled merits of George Washington, Esq. towards his country ; and it is their wish in particular that those great works for its improvement, which, both as springing from the liberty which he has been so instrumental in establish- * It detracts not from the sagacious views and patriotick exertions of Washington, that the system of canals and railroads has pushed forward the progress of internal improvements beyond what he ventured to pre- dict. But it should be known and not forgotten, that their importance was appreciated, and the extent, if not the means, of these improvements, shadowed forth, in the comprehensive mmd of the fatheb or his^ COUNTBY*. 1'74 THE LIFE OP ing, and as encouraged by his patronage, will be durable monuments of his glory, may be made monuments also of the gratitude of his country. Be it enacted," &c. To the friend who conveyed to Washington the first in- telligence of this bill he replied — " It is not easy for me tOt decide, by which my mind was most affec- ted upon the receipt of your letter of the sixth instant, surprise, or gratitude. Both were greater than I had words to express. The at- tention and good wishes which tlic assembly have evidenced by their act for vesting in me one hundred and fifty shares in the navigation of the rivers Potomack and James, is more than mere compliment. There is an unequivocal and substantial meaning annexed. But be- lieve me, sir, no circunistance has happened since I left the walks of fublick life, which has so much embarrassed me. On the one hand, consider this act as a noble and unequivocal proof of the good opin- ion, the affection, and disposition of my country to serve me ; and I should be hurt, if by declining the acceptance of it, my refusal should be construed into disrespect, or the smallest slight upon the generous intention cf the legislature, or that an ostentatious display of disin. terestedness or publick virtue was the source of refusal. " On the other hand, it is really my wish to have my mind and my actions, which are the result of reflection, as free and independent as the air, that I may be more at liberty to express my sentiments, and if necessary to suggest what may occur to me under the fullest con- viction, that although my judgement may be arraigned, there will be no suspicion that sinister motives had the smallest influence in the suggestion. Not content then with the bare conciousness of my hav- ing, in all this navigation business, acted upon the clearest convic- tion of the political importance of the measure, I would wish that every individual who may hear that it was a favourite plan of mine, may know also that I had no other motive for promoting it than the advantage of which I conceived it would be productive to the union at large, and to this state in particular, by cementing the eastern and western territory together ; at the same time, that it will give vigour to and increase our commerce, and be a convenience to our citizens. ** How would this matter be viewed then by the eye of the world, and what opinion would be formed, when it comes to be related that G — — W >n exerted himself to effect this work, and that G W n has received twenty thousand dollars, and five thousand pounds sterling of the publick money as an interest therein ? Would not this, (if I am entitled to any merit for the part I have performed, and without it there is no foundation for the act,) deprive me of the principal thing which is laudable in my conduct ? Would it not in Bome respects be considered in the same light as a pension ? And would not the apprehensions of this induce me to offer my sentiments in future with the more reluctance ? In a word,, under whatever pre. tence, and however customary these gratuities may be in other coun. tries, should I not thenceforward be considered as a dependent ? One moment's thought of which would give me more pain, than I should receive pleasure from the product of all the tolls,, was every farthing of them vested in me," GEORGE WASHINGTON. 175 To the Governour of the state, on receiving from him an official copy of the aforesaid act, Washington replied as follows — "Your excellency having been pleased to transmit me a copy of the act appropriating to my benefit certain shares in the companies for opening the navigation of James and Potomack rivers ; I take the hberty of retm-ning to the general assembly, through your hands, the profound and grateful acknowledgements inspired by so signal a mark of their beneficent intentions towards me, I beg you, sir, to assure them that I am filled on this occasion with every sentiment which can flow from a heart warm with love to my country, sensible to ev- ery token of its approbation and affection, and solicitous to testify in every instance a respectful submission to its wishes. " With these sentiments in my bosom, I need not dwell on the anx- iety I feel, in being obliged, in this instance, to decline a favour which is rendered no less flattering by the manner in which it is conveyed, than it is affectionate in itself. In explaining this, I pass over a com- parison of my endeavours in the publick service, with the many hon- ourable testimonies of approbation which have already so far over- rated and overpaid them ; reciting one consideration only, which su- persedes the necessity of recurring to every other. " When I was first called to the station with which I was honoured during the late conflict for our liberties, to the diffidence which' I had so many reasons to feel in accepting it, I thought it my duty to join a firm rosolution to shut my hand against every pecuniary recompense. To this resolution I have invariably adhered, and from it, (if I had the inclination,) I do not consider myself at liberty now to depart. " Whilst I repeat, therefore, my fervent acknowledgements to the legislature for their very kind sentiments and intentions in my favour, and at the same time beg them to be persuaded, that a remembrance of this singular proof of their goodness towards me will never cease to cherish returns of the warmest affection and gratitude ; I must pray that their act, so far as it has for its object my personal emolu- raent, may not have its effect ; but if it should please the general as- sembly to permit me to turn the destination of the fund vested in me, from my private emolument to objects of a publick nature, it will be my study in selecting these, to prove the sincerity of my gratitude for the honour conferred upon me, by preferring such as may appear most subservient to the enlightened and patriotick views of the legis- lature." The wishes suggested in this letter were sanctioned by the legislature ; and, at a subsequent time, the trust was ex- ecuted by conveying the shares to the use of a seminary of learning in the vicinity of each river. Near the close of the revolutionary war, the officers of the American army with a view of perpetuating their friendships, formed themselves into a society, to be named after the fa- mous Roman patriot, Cincinnatus. At the head of their 276 THE LIFE OF society, Gen. Washington was placed. By the rules of their institution, the honours of the society were to be hereditary in their respective families, and distinguished individuals might be admitted as honorary members for life. These circumstances, together with the union of the officers of the army, gave an alarm to the community ; several individuals of which supposed that the hereditary part of the institution would be a germ of nobility. It was the usual policy of Washington to respect the opinions of the people, in mat- ters indifferent, or of small magnitude, though he might think them mistaken. Having ascertained to his own satis- faction, that a degree of jealousy pervaded the mass of the people, respecting the probable tendency of this perpetual hereditary society, he successfully exerted his influence to new model its rules, by relinquishing the hereditary principle and the power of adopting honorary members. The result proved the wisdom of the measure ; for all jealousies of the society henceforward were done away, and the members thereof were received as brethren, by the most suspicious of their fellow-citizens. When Washington, at the close of the revolutionary war> became a private citizen, his country confidently anticipated every possible blessing from peace, indepenc^ence, and self* government. But experience soon proved the inefficacy of existing systems for promoting national happiness, or preserving national dignity. Congress had neither the power nor the means of doing justice to publick cred- itors, nor of enforcing the respect of foreign nations. Gold and silver vanished— commerce languished-^property was depi-eciated— -and credit expired. The lovers of liberty and independence began to be less sanguine in their hopes from the American revolution, and to fear that they had built a visionary fabrick of government on the fallacious ideas of publick virtue. For the first five or six years im- mediately following peace, the splendour which surrounded the infant states from their successful struggle in the cause of independence and self-government, was daily darkening. This state of things could not be indifferent to Washington. He was among the first to discover the cause, and to point out the remedy. The inefficient support he received while commander in chief, proved the inefficacy of the articles of confederation, for raising and supporting a requisite military GEORGE WASHINGTON. 177 force. The experience of the first years of peace, proved their total inadequacy for the purpose of national govern- ment. From want of vigour in the federal head, the United States were fast dwindling into separate sovereignties, un- connected by any bond of union, equal to publick exigency. The private letters of Washington at this time, show his anxiety for his country's welfare and his wisdom in pointing out a remedy for its degradation. In one of them he ob- serves — " The confederation appears to me to be little more than a shadow without the substance, and Congress a nugato- ry body, their ordinances being little attended to. To me it is a solecism in politics ; indeed it is one of the most extraordinary things in nature, that we should confederate as a nation, and yet be afraid to give the rulers of that nation, who are the creatures of our own making, appointed for a limited and short duration, and who are amenable for every action, recallable at any moment, and subject to all the evils which they may be instrumental in producing, sufficient powers to order and direct the affairs of the same. By such policy the wheels of government are clogged, and our brightest prospects, and that high expectation which was entertained of us by the wondering world, are turned into astonishment ; and from the high ground on which we stood, we are descending into the vale of confusion and darkness. " That we have it in our power to become one of the most respectable nations upon earth, admits, in my humble opinion, of no doubt, if we would but pursue a wise, just, and liberal policy towards one another, and would keep good faith with the rest of the world. That our resources are ample and increasing, none can deny ; but while they are grudgingly applied, or not applied at all, we give a vital stab to publick faith, and will sink in the eyes of Europe into contempt." In another — " It is one of the evils of democratick govern, ments, that the people, not always seeing, and frequently misled, must often feel before they are set right. But evils of this nature seldom fail to work their own cure. It is to be lamented, nevertheless, that the remedies are so slow, and that those who wish to apply them seasonably, are not at- tended to before they suffer in person, in interest, and in reputation. I am not without hopes that matters will soon take a favourable turn in the federal constitution. The dis- 16 178 THE LIFE OP cerning part of the community have long since seen the necessity of giving adequate powers to Congress for national • purposes, and those of a different description must yield to it ere long." In a letter to Mr. Jay, Gen. Washington observed : — "Your sentiments that our affairs are drawing rapidly to a crisis, accord with my own. What the event will be, is also beyond the reach of my foresight. We have errours to correct ; we have prob- ably had too good an opinion of human nature inforniing our confed- eration. Experience has taught us that men will not adopt and carry into execution measures the best calculated for their own good, with- out the intervention of coerQiye power. I d,o not conceive we can subsist long as a nation, withojit lodging somewhere a power which will pervade the whole Union in as energetick a manner, as the author* ity of the state governments extends over the several states. To be fearful of investing Congress, constituted as that body is, with ample authorities for national purposes, appears to me )the very climax of popular absurdity and madness, Co.uld (Congress exert them for the detriment of the* people, without injuring themselves in an equal or greater proportion ? Are not their interests inseparably connected with those of their constituents ? By the rotati/»n of appointment, must they pot mingle frequently with th^e mass pf pitizens? Is it not rather tg be apprehended, if they were possessed pf the powers before describe^, that the individual members would be induced to use them on many occasions, very timidly and inefficaciously, for fear of losing their popularity and future election ? We must take human nature as we find it-r-perfection falls not to the share of mortals. Many are of opinion, that pongress have too frequently made use of the suppli- ant humble tone of requisition, in applications to the states, when they had a right to assert their imperial dignity, and command obedi- ence. Be that as it niay, requisitions are a perfect nullity, where thir- teen sovereign, independent, disunited states, are in the habit of discussing, and refusing or complying with them at their option. Requisitions are actually little better than a jest and a by-word through- out the land. If you tell the legislatures they have violated the treaty of peace, and invaded the prerogfitives of the confederacy, they will laugh in your face. What then is to be done ? Things cannot go on i^ the same train for ever. It is much to be feared, as you observe, ihatthe better kind of people, being disgusted with these circumstances, w^J have their minds prepared for any revolution whatever. We are apt t9 run from one extreme into another. To anticipate and prevent disastrous contingencies, would be the part of wisdom and patriotism. ♦' What astonishing changes are a few years capable of producing! I am told that even respectable characters speak of a monarchical form of government, without horrour. From thinking, proceeds speaking ; thence to acting is often but a single step. But how irre- vocable and tremendous ! What a triumph for our enemies to verify their predictions ! What a triumph for the advocates of despotism to find that we arc incapable of governing ourselves, and that sys- tems founded on the basis of equal liberty, are merely ideal and fallacious ! Would to God jthat wise measures may be taken in time. 6E(5RGE WASHINGTON. iW ^0 avert the consequences we have but too much reason to apprehend. Retired as I am from the world, I frankly acknowledge, I cannot feel myself an' Unconcerned spectator. Yet having happily assisted in bringing the ship into port, and having been fairly discharged, it is not my business to embark again on a sea of troubles. " Nor could it be expected that my sentiments and opinions would have much weight on the minds of my countrymen. They have been neglected, though given as a last legacy, in the most solemn manner. I had then, perhaps, some claims to pUblick attentions. I consider myself as having none at present." Illumination, on the subject of enlarging the powers of Congress, was gradual. Washington, in his extensive cor- respondence and intercourse with the leading characters of the different states, urged the necessity of a radical reform in the existing system of governhierit. The business was at length seriously taken up and a proposition was made by Virginia, for electing deputies to a general convention, for the sole purpose of revising the Federal system of govern- ment. While this proposition was under consideration, an event took place, which pointed out the propriety of its adoption. The pressure of evils in a great degree resulting from the imbecility of government, aided by erroneous opinions, which confound liberty with licentiousness, produced com- motions in Massachusetts, which amounted to treason and rebellion. On this occasion, Washington expressed himself in a letter as follows : — •' The commotions and temper of numerous bodies in the eastern country, present a state of things equally to be lamented and depre- cated. They exhibit a melancholy verification of what our Trans- atlantick foes have predicted, and of another thing perhaps, which is still more to be regretted, and is yet more unaccountable, that man- kind when left to themselves, are unfit for their own government. I am mortified beyond expression, when I view the clouds which have spread over the brightest morn that ever dawned upon my country. In a word, I am lost in amazement, when I behold what intrigue the interested views of desperate cliaracters, ignorance and jealousy of the minor part, are capable of effecting, as a scourge on the major part of our fellow-citizens of the Union; for it is hardly to be supposed, that the great body of the people, though they will not act, can be so short- sighted, or enveloped in darkness, as not to see rays of a distant sun through all this mist of intoxication and' folly. *' You talk, my good sir, of employing influence to appease the present tumults in Massachusetts. Tknow not where that influence is to be found, nor, if attainable, that it would be a proper remedy for these disorders. Influence is not government. Let us have a gov. ernment by which our lives, liberties, and properties, will be secured, 180 THE LIFE OF or let tts know the worst at once. Under these impressions, my hum. ble opinion is, that there is a call for decision. Know precisely what the insurgents aim at. If they have real grievances, redress them if possible, or acknowledge the justice of them, and your inability to di- it in the present moment. If they have not, employ the force of government against them at once. If this is inadequate, all will be convinced that the superstructure is bad, or wants support. To be more exposed in the eyes of the world, and more contemptible, is hardly possible. To delay one or the other of these expedients, is to exasperate on the one hand, or to give confidence on the other, and will add to their numbers ; for like snowballs such bodies increase by every movement, unless there is something in the way to obstruct and crumble them before their weight is too great and irresistible. "These are my sentiments. Precedents are dangerous things. Let the reins of government, then, be braced and held with a steady hand, and every violation of the constitution be reprehended. If de- fective, let it be amended, but not suffered to be trampled upon while it has an existence." Virginia placed the name of Washington at the head of her delegates for the proposed convention. Letters poured in upon him from all sides, urging his acceptance of the appointment. In answer to one from Mr. Madison, who had been the principal advocate of the measure in the Vir- ginia legislature, Gen. Washington replied — •' Although I have bid a publick adieu to the publick walks of life, and had resolved never more to tread that theatre, yet, if upon any occasion so interesting to the well-being of our confederacy, it had been the wish of the Assembly that I should be an associate in the business of revising the Federal system, I should, from a sense of the obligation I am under for repeated proofs of confidence in me, more than from any opinion I could entertain of my usefulness, have obeyed its call ; but it is now out of my power to do this with any degree of consistency. The cause I will mention. " I presume you heard, sir, that I was first appointed, and have eince been re-chosen, President of the Society of the Cincinnati; and you may have understood also, that the triennial general meeting of this body is to be held in Philadelphia the first Monday in May next. Some particular reasons, combining with the peculiar situation of my private concerns, the necessity of paying attention to them, a wish for retiremeirt, and relaxation from publick cares, and rheumatick pains, which I begin to feel very sensibly, induced me, on the 31st ultimo, to address a circular letter to each state society, informing them of my intention not to be at the next meeting, and of my desire not to be re-chosen President. The Vice-President is also informed of this, that the business of the society may not be impeded by my absence. Un- der these circumstances it will readily be perceived, that I could not appear at the same time and place, on any other occasion, without giving offence to a very respectable and deserving part of the commu- nity — the late officers of the American army." ^EOKGE WASHINGTON. 181 The' meeting of the convention was postponed to a day subsequent to that of the meeting of the Cincinnati. This removed one of the difficulties in the way of Washington's acceptance of a seat in the convention, and joined with the importance of the call, and his own eager desire to advance the publick interest, finally induced his compliance with the wishes of his friends. The convention met in Philadelphia, in May, and unani- mously chose George Washington their President. On the 17th of September, 1787, they closed their labours, and sub mitted the result to Congress, with their opinion "that it should be submitted toa convention of delegates chosen in each state by the people thereof, under the recommendation of its legislature, for their assent and ratification." By this new form of government, ample powers \yere given to Congress without the intervention of the states, for every purpose that national-dignity, interest, or happiness, re- quired. The ablest pens and most eloquent tongues were employed for, and against, its acceptance. In this animated contest, Washington took no part. Having with his sword vindi- cated the right of hiscountry to self-government, and having with his advice aided in digesting an efficient form of govern- ment, which he most thoroughly approved, it would-seem as though he wished the people to decide for themselves; whether- to accept or reject it.* • The following letter; written about this time, is worthy to be perpe-' tuated, not only as an example of the playfulness of style in which this ^eat and good roan could occasionally indulge, but for the justness of us sentiments, and the manner in which Gen. Washington speaks, in' conclusion, of this interesting period iii the history of his country : " Mount Vernon, April 25, 1788. "Mt dear Marquis— In reading your very friendly and acceptable let- ter, of the 21st of December, 1787, which came to hand by the last mail, I was, as you may well suppose, not less delighted than surprised to come across that plain American word ' My^ wifie.' — A wife! — well, 'my dear Marquis, I can hardly refrain from smiling to find that you are caught at last. I saw, by the eulogium you.often made on the . happiness of do- mestick life in America, that you had swallowed the bait; and that you would, as surely as you are a philosopher and a soldien be taken one day or other. So your day as' at length come— I am glad of it, with all my heart and soul. It is quite good enough for you : — Now, you are well served for coming to fight in favour of the American rebels, all the way across the Atlantick Ocean, by catching that terrible contagion, which, like the smallpox, or the plague, a man can have only once in his life, because it commonly lasts him (at least with us in America ; I dont know bow you manage these matters in Praiitje) 'for his life time. And yet, 1^* 182 THE LIFE OF The constitution being accepted by eleven states, and preparatory measures being taken for bringing it into opera- after all the maledictions you so richly merit on the subject, the worst wish I can find it in my heart to make against Madame de Chastellux, and yourself, is, that you may neither of you get the better of this domestick felicity during the course of your mortal exisience. " If so wonderful an event should have occasioned me, my dear Mar- quis, to have written in a strange style, you will understand me as clearly as if I had said, (what in plain Enghsh is the simple truth,) do me the justice to believe that I take a heartfelt interest in whatever concerns your happiness ; and in this view, I sincerely congratulate you on your auspicious matrimonial connexion. " I am happy to find that Madame de Chastellux is so intimately con- nected with the Dutchess of Orleans, as I have always understood that this noble lady was an illustrious pattern of connubial love, as well as an excellent model of virtue in general. "While you have been making love under the banner of Hymen, the great personages of the North have been making war under the inspira- tion, or, rather the infatuation of Mars. Now, for my part, 1 humbly conceive you had much the best and wisest of the bargain; for certainly, it is more consonant to all the principles of reason and rehgion, (natural and revealed,) to replenish the earth with inhabitants, rather than depo- pulate it by killing those already in exisience; besides, it is time for the age of knight-errantry and mad heroism to be at an end. " Your young military men, who want to reap the harvest of laurels, dont care, I suppose, how many seeds of war are sown ; but, for the sake of humaniiy, it is devoutly to be wished, that the manly employment of agriculture, and the humanizing benefits of commerce, should supersede the waste of war, and the rage of conquest; that the swords might be turned into ploughshares — the spears into pruninghooks— and, as the Scripture expresses it, ' the nations learn war no more.' " I will now give you a little news from this side the Atlantick, and then fiinish. As for us we are plodding on in the dark road of peace and politicks. We, who hve in these ends of the earth only hear of the ru- mours of war, like the roar of distant thunder. It is to be hoped our re- mote local situation will prevent us from being swept mto its vortex. " The constitution which was proposed by the Federal Convention, has been adopted by the states of Massachusetts, Connecticut, Jersey, Penn- sylvania, Delaware, and Georgia. No state has rejected it. The Con- vention of Maryland is now sitting, and will probably adopt it, as that of South Carolina will do in May. The other Conventions will assemble early in the summer. Hitherto there has been much greater unanimity in favour of the proposed government than could have reasonably been expected. Should it be adopted, (and I think it will be,) America will lift up her head again, and, in a few years, become respectable among the nations. It is a flattering and consolitary reflection, that our rising re- publick has the good wishes of all philosophers, patriots, and virtuous men, in all nations, and that they look upon it as a kind of asylum for mankind. God grant that we may not be disappointed in our honest expectations by our folly or perverseness ! " With sentiments of the purest attachment and esteem, I have the honour to be, my dear Marquis, " Your most obedient and humble servant, •' Gborqe Washingtok. " The Marquis ds Chastellux." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 183 tion, all eyes were turned to Washington, as being the fittest man for the office of President of the United States. His correspondents began to press his acceptance of the high office, as essential to the well-being of his country. To those who think that Washington was like other men, it will scarcely appear possible, that supreme magistracy possessed no charms sufficient to tempt him from his beloved retirement, when he was healthy and strong, and only fifty- seven years old; but if an opinion can be formed of his real sentiments, from the tenour of his life and confidential com- munications to his most intimate friends, a conviction will be produced, that his acceptance of the Presidency of the Uni- ted States was the result of a victory obtained by'a sense of duty over his inclinations, and was a real sacrifice of the latter to the former. In a letter to Col. Henry Lee, Washington observes — " Notwithstanding my advanced season of life, my increasing fond- ness for agricultural amusements, and my growing love of retirement, augment and confirm my decided predilection for the character of a private citizen ; yet it will be no one of these motives, nor the hazard to which my former reputation might be exposed, nor the terror of encountering new fatigues and troubles, that would deter me from an acceptance, but a belief that some other person who had less pretence and less inclination to be excused, could execute all the duties full as satisfactorily as myself. To say more would be indiscreet, as a dis- closure of a refusal beforehand might incur the application of the fable, in which the fox is represented as undervaluing the grapes he could not reach. You will perceive, my dear sir, by what is here observed, (and which you will be pleased to consider in the light of a confiden- tial communication,) that my inclinations will dispose and decide me to remain as I am, unless a clear and insurmountable conviction should be impressed on my mind, that some very disagreeable conse- quences must in all human probability result from the indulgence of my wishes." In a letter to Col. Hamilton, Washington observes — •' If I am not grossly deceived in myself, I should unfeignedly re. joice, in case the electors, by giving their votes to some other person, would save me from the dreadful dilemma of being forced to accept or refuse. If that may not be, I am in the next place, earnestly de. sirous of searching out the truth, and of knowing whether there does not exist a probability that the government would just as happily and effectually be carried into execution, without my aid, as with it. I am truly solicitous to obtain all the previous information which the circumstances will afford, and to determine, (when the determination can no longer be postponed,) according to the principles of right rea- son, and the dictates of a clear conscience, without too great a refer- 184 THE LtFE OP cnce to the unforeseen consequences which may aiFect my person or reputation. Until that period, I may fairly hold myself open to con. viction, though I allow your sentiments to have weight in them ; and I shall not pass by your arguments, without giving them as dispas- sionate a consideration as I can possibly bestow upon them. *' In taking a survey of the subject, in whatever point of light I have been able to place it, I will not suppress the acknowledgmentj my dear sir, that I have always felt a kind of gloom upon my mind, as often as I have been taught to expect I might, and, perhaps, must be called upon ere long to make the decision. You will, I am well assured, believe the assertion, (though I have little expectation it would gain credit from those who are less acquainted with me,) that if I should receive the appointment, and should be prevailed upon tp accept it, the acceptance would be attended with more difficulty and reluctance, than I ever experienced before. It would be, however, with a fixed and sole determination of lending whatever assistance might be in my power to promote the publick weal, in hopes, that at a convenient and early period, my services might be dispensed with ; and that I might be permitted once more to retire, to pass an uncloud-- ed evening, after the stormy day of life, in the bosom of domestick tranquillity." In a letter to Gen. Lincoln, Washington observes — " I may, however, with great sincerity, and I believe without offend- ing against modesty and propriety, say to you, that I most' heartily wish the choice to which you allude, might not fall upon me; and that if it should, I must reserve to myself the right of making up my final decision, at the last moment when it can be brought into one view, and when the expediency or inexpediency of a refusal can be more judiciously determined, than at present. But be assured, my dear sir, if, from any inducement, I' shall be persuaded ultimately to ■ accept, it will not be, (so far as I know my own heart,) from anj- of a private or personal nature. Every personal consideration conspires to rivet me, (if I may use the expression,) to retirement. At my. time of life, and under my circumstances, nothing in this world can ever draw me from it, unless it be a conviction that the partiality of my countrymen had made my services absolutely necessary, joined to a fear that my reftisal might induce a belierthat I preferred the conservation of my own reputation and private ease, to the good of my country. After all,- if I should conceive myself in a manner con. strained to accept, I call heaven to witness, that this very act would be the greatest sacrifice of my personal feelings aiid wishes, that ever I have been called upbn to make. • It would be to forego- repose and do. mestick enjoyment, for trouble, pterhaps for publick • obloquy ; for I should consider myself as entering upon an unexplored field, enveloped on every side with clt)trds and dark-ness. " From this embarrassing situation, I had 'riaturalPy supposed, that my declarations at the close of the war would hav6 saved me, and that my sincere intentions, then publickly made known, would have effectually precluded me for ever after wards- fromi^ being looked upon as a candidate for any office. This hope, as a last anchor of worldly hfappiness in old age, I had carefully pregerted, until the publick pa- - GEOEGE WASHINGTON. 185 pers and private letters from my correspondents in almost every quar- ter, taught me to apprehend that I might soon be obliged to answer the question, whether I would go again into publick life or not." In a letter to the Marquis de La Fayette, Washington observes — " Your sentiments indeed coincide much more nearly with those of my other friends, than with my own feelings. In truth, my difficul- ties increase and magnify as I draw towards the period, when, accord- ing to the common belief, it will be necessary for me to give a definitive answer in one way or other. Should circumstances render it in a manner inevitably necessary to be in the affirmative, be assured, my dear sir, I shall assume the task with the most unfeigned reluctance, and with a real diffidence, for which I shall probably receive no credit from the world. If I know my own heart, nothing short of a convic. tion of duty, will induce me again to take an active part in publick affiiirs. And in that case, if I can form a plan for my own conduct, my endeavours shall be unremittingly exerted, (even at the hazard of former fame or present popularity,) to extricate my country from the embarrassments in which it is entangled through want of credit, and to establish a general system of policy, which, if pursued, will ensure permanent felicity to the commonwealth. I think I see a path as clear and as direct as a ray of light, which leads to the attainment of that object. Nothing but harmony, honesty, industry, and frugality, are necessary to make us a great and a happy people. Happily the present posture of affairs, and the prevailing disposition of my countrymen, promise to co-operate in establishing those four great and essential pillars of publick felicity." Before the election of a President came on, so universal was the expectation that Washington would be elected, that numerous applications were made to him, in anticipation for offices in the government, which would be in his gift. To one of such applicants he wrote as follows : — " Should it become absolutely necessary for me to occupy the sta- tion in which your letter presupposes me, I have determined to go into it perfectly free from all engagements of every nature whatsoever. A conduct in conformity to this resolution, would erfable me in bal. ancing the various pretensions of different candidates for appointments, to act with a sole reference to justice, and the publick good. This is in substance, the answer that I have given to all applications, (and they are not few,) which have already been made." 186 THE LIFE 0? GHAP. XI. Washington elected President. On his way to the seat of government' at New York, receives the most flattering marks of respect. Addresses Congress. The situation of the United States in their foreign and do- mestick relations, at the inauguration of Washington. Fills up publick offices solely with a view to the publick good. Proposes a treaty to the Creek Indians, which is at first rejected. Col. Willet induces the heads of the nation to come to New York, to treat there. The North- Western Indians refuse a treaty, but after defeating Generals Harmar and Sinclair, they are defeated by Gen. Wayne. They then submit, and agree to treat. A new system' is introduced for meliorating their condition. J789— 1794. It was intended that the new government should have commenced its operations on the 4th of March, 1789 ; but from accidental causes, the election of Gen. Washington to the Presidency was not officially announced to him at Mount Vernon, till the 14th of next April. This was done by Charles Thomson, Secretary of the late Congress, who- presented to him the certificate signed by the President of the Senate of the United States, stating that George WasK- ington was unanimously elected President. This unexpected^ delay was regretted by the publick, but not by the newly elected President. In a letter to Gen. Knox, he observed — "As to myself, the delay may be compared to a reprieve; for in confidence I tell you, (.with the vwrld it would obtain little credit,) that my moveilients to the chair of government will be accompanied by feelings not unlike those of a culprit who is going to the place of Bis execution ; so unwilling am I in the evening of life, nearly con. sumed in publick cares, to quit a peaceful abode for an ocean of diffi- culties, without that competency of political skill, abilities and incli- nation, which are necessary to manage the helm. I am sensible that I am embarking the voice of the people, and a good name of my own, on this voyage, but what returns will be made for them. Heaven alone can foretell. Integrity and firmness arc all I can promise. These, be the voyage long or short, shall never forsake me, although I may be deserted by all men ; for of the consolations which are to be derived from these, under any circumstances, the world cannot deprive me." On the second day after receiving notice of his appoint. 6E0E6E WASHUnSTON. 1^7 meirt, Washington set out for New York.* On his way thither, the road wa3 crowded with numbers anxious to see the man of the people. Escorts of mihtia, and of gentlemen of the first character and station, attended him from state to state, and he was every where received with the highest honours which a grateful and admiring people could confer. Addresses of congratulation were presented to him by the inhabitants of almost every place of consequence through which he passed, to all of which he returned such modest, unassuming answers, as were in every respect suitable to * The social and domestick examples of such a man as General Wash- ington, are of greater value 4,0 posterity than all his publick acta and deeds of civil or mihtary conxjuest. In a note on page 137, we gave an account of theintervievv^of Washington with his mother, aftei the glorious and decisive affair of Yorktown ; and we cannot omit the followmg ad- ditional and interesting proof of his fihal affection, being an account of the last earthly interview between the mother and son, which is published while this work is in press, in an Eastern paper, (the Hartford Courant): " Immediately after the organization of the present government. Gene- ral Washington repaired to Fredericksburg, to pay his humble duty to hie mother, preparatory to his departure to New York. An affecting scene ensued. The son feelingly remarked the ravages which a tottering dis- ease had made upon the aged frame of his mother, and thus addressed her : — '* ' The people, madam, have been pleased, with the most flattering unanimity, to elect me to the chief magistracy of the United States, but before I can assume the functions of that office. I have come to bid you an_ affectionate farewell. So soon as the publick business, which must necessarily be encountered m arranging a new government, can be dis- posed of, I shall hasten to Virginia, and' — " Here the matron interrupted him. 'You will see me no more. My greatage, and the disease that is fast approaching my vitals, warn me she that I shall not be long in this world. I trust in God, I am somewhat prepared for a better. But go, George, fulfil the high destinies which Heaven appears to assign you ; go, my son, and may that Heaven's and your mother's blessing be with you always.' "The President was deeply affected. His head rested upon the shoul- der of his parent, whose aged arm feebly, yet fondly encircled his neck. That brow on which fame had wreathed the purest laurel virtue ever gave to created man, relaxed from its lofty bearing. That look which could have awed a Roman Senate, in its Fabrician day, was bent in fiUal ten- derness upon the time-worn features of this venerable matron. " The great man wept. A thousand recollections crowded upon his mind, as memory retracing scenes long past, carried him back to' his paternal mansion, and the days of his youth; and there the centre of attraction was his mother, whose care, instruction, and discipline, had prepared him to reach the topmost height of laudable ambition; yet how were his glories forgotten while he gazed upon her from whom, wasted by time and malady, he must soon part to meet no more! "The matron's predictions were true. The disease which had so long preyed upon her frame, completed its iifiumph, and she expired [in the following August, 1789,1 at the age of 85, confiding in the promises of inimortaTity to the humble believer." 188 THE LIFE or his situation. So great were the honours with which he was loaded, that they could scarcely have failed to produce haughtiness in the mind of any ordinary man ; but nothing of the kind was ever discovered in this extraordinary person, age. On all occasions he behaved to all men with the affa- bility of one citizen to another. He was truly great in de- serving the plaudits of his country, but much greater in not being elated by them.* Of the numerous addresses which were presented on this occasion, one subscribed by Dennis Ramsay, the mayor of Alexandria, in the name of the people of that city, who were the neighbours of Mr. Washington, was particularly and universally admired. It was in the following words : " To George Washington, Esq. President of the United States, ^c. " Again your country commands your care. Obedient to its wishes, unmindful of your ease, we see you again relinquishing the bliss of retirement, and this too, at a period of life when nature itself seems to authorize a preference of repose. "Not to extol your glory as a soldier; not to pour forth our grati- tude for past services ; not to acknowledge the justice of the unexam. pled honour which has been conferred upon you by the spontaneous and unanimous suffrage of three millions of freemen, in your election to the supreme magistracy, nor to admire the patriotism which directs your conduct, do your neighbours and friends now address you. Themes less splendid, but more endearing, impress our minds. The first and best of citizens must leave us ; our aged must lose their or- nament; our youth their model; our agriculture its improver; our commerce its friend ; our infant academy its protector ; our poor their benefactor ; and the interiour navigation of the Potomack, (an event, replete with the most extensive utility, already by your unremitted exertions brought into partial use,) its institutor and promoter. " Farewell. Go, and make a grateful people happy — a people who * Although modest and unostentatious, Washington was not msensible to the voice of merited praise, and sincere approbation. His views upon this subject are thus expressed in a letter to Chastellux, Aug. 8, 1786, re- ferring to the complimentary poem of Col. Humphrey, which had been translated into French by the former :— " Having been thus unwarily, and I may be permitted to add, almost unavoidably betrayed into a kind of necessity to speak of myself, and not wishing to resume that subject, I choose to close it forever, by observing, that, as on the one hand, I consider it as an indubitable mark of mean spiritedness and pitiful vanity to court applause from the pen or tongue of man ; so on the other, I believe it to be a proof of false modesty, or an unworthy affectation of humiUty, to appear altogether insensible to the commendations of the virtuous and enlightened part of our species. " Perhaps nothing can excite more perfect harmony in the soul, than to have this spring vibrate in unison with the internal consciousness of rectitude in our intentions, and an humble hope of approbation from the Supreme Disposer of all things." GEORGE WASHINGTON. 189 will be doubly gratefiil when they contemplate this recent sacrifice for their interest. " To that Being who maketh and unmaketh at his will, we commend you ; and after the accomplishment of the arduous business to which you arc called, may he restore to us again the best of men, a^id the most beloved fellow-citizen." To this Mr. Washington returned the following answer — *' ■GentlemeK, "Although I ought not to conceal, yet 1 cannot describe the painful emotions which I felt, in being called upon to determine whether I would accept or refuse the Presidency of the United States. The una- nimity in the choice ; the opinion of my friends communicated from different parts of Europe as well as from America ; the apparent wish of those who were not entirely satisfied with the constitution in its present form, and an ardent desire on my own part to be instrumental in connecting the good will of my countrymen towards each other, have induced an acceptance. Those who know me best, (and you, my Fellow-citizens, are, from your situation, in that number,) know better than any others, my love of retirement is so great, that no earthly con- sideration, short of a conviction of duty, could have prevailed upon me to depart from my resolution " never more to take any share in transac- tions of a publick nature ;" for at my age, and in my circumstances, what prospects or advantages could I propose to myself from embarking again on the tempestuous and uncertain ocean of publick life ? '• I do not feel myself under the necessity of making publick declar- ations in order to convince you, gentlemen, of my attachment to your- selves, and regard for your interests. The whole tenour of my life has been open to your inspection, and my past actions, rather than my present declarations, must be the pledge of my future conduct. " In the mean time, I thank you most sincerely for the expressions of kindness contained in your valedictory address. It is true, just after having bade adieu to my domestick connexions, this tender proof of jour friendship is but too well calculated still further to awaken my sensibility, and increase my regret at parting from the enjoyment of private life. "All that now remains for me, is to commit myself and you to the protection of that beneficent Being, who on a former occasion hath happily brought us together, after a long and distressing separation. Perhaps the same gracious Providence will again indulge me. Unut- terable sensations must then be left to more expressive silence, while from an aching heart I bid all my affectionate friends and kind neigh- bours farewell." Gray's bridge over the Schuylkill, which Mr. Washington had to pass, was highly decorated with laurels and ever- greens. At each end of it were erected magnificent arches, composed of laurels, emblematical of the ancient Roman triumphal arches, and on each side of the bridge was a laurel 17 190 THE LIFE OF shrubbery. As Mr. Washington passed the bridge, a youth ornamented with sprigs of laurel, assisted by machinery, let drop above his head, though unperceived by him, a civic crown of laurel. Upwards of 20,000 citizens lined the fences, fields, and avenues, between the Schuylkill and Phila- delphia. Through these he was conducted to the city by a numerous and respectable body of the citizens, where he partook of an elegant entertainment provided for him. The pleasures of the day were succeeded by a handsome display of fireworks in the evening. When Mr. Washington crossed the Delaware, and landed on the Jersey shore, he was saluted with three cheers by the inhabitants of the vicinity. When he came to the brow of the hill on his way to Trenton, a triumphal arch was erected on the bridge by the direction of the ladies of the place. The crown of the arch was highly ornamented with laurels and flowers, and on it was displayed in large figures, " De- cember 26th, 1776." On the sweep of the arch beneath, was this inscription — « The Defender of the Mothers will also protect their Daughters." On the north side were ranged a number of female children dressed in white, with garlands of flowers on their heads, and baskets of flowers on their arms ; in the second row stood the young women, and behind them the married ladies of the vicinity. The instant he passed the arch, the children began to sing the following ode. " Welcome mighty chief! once more Welcome to this grateful shore. Now no mercenary foe Aims again the fatal blow, Aims at thee the fatal blow. Virgins fair, and matrons grave, These thy conquering arm did save! Build for thee triumphal bowers : Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers ; Strew your hero's way with flowers." As they sung the last lines, they strewed their flowers on the road before their beloved deliverer. His situation on this occasion, contrasted with what he had in December, 1776, felt on the same spot, when the affairs of America were at the lowest ebb of depression, filled him with sensations that cannot be described. He was rowed across the bay from Elizabethtown to New York, in an elegant barge, by thirteen GEORGE WASHINGTON. 191 pilots. All the vessels in the harbour hoisted their flags. Stairs were erected and decorated for his reception. On his landing, universal joy diffused itself through every order of the people, and he was received and congratulated by the Governor of the state, and officers of the corporation. He was conducted from the landing place to the house which had been fitted up for his reception, and was followed by an ele- gant procession of militia in their uniforms, and by a great number of citizens. In the evening the houses of the inhab- itants were brilliantly illuminated. A day was fixed soon after his arrival, for his taking the oath of office, which was in the following words. *• I "do solemnly swear, that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States; and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect, and defend the constitution of the United States." On this occasion he was wholly clothed in American manufactures. In the morning of the day ap- pointed for this purpose, the clergy of different denominations assembled their congregations in their respective places of worship, and offered up publick prayers for the President and people of the United States. About noon a procession, followed by a multitude of citizens, moved from the Presi- dent's house to Federal Hall. When they came within a short distance from the Hall, the troops formed a line on both sides of the way, through which Mr. Washington, accom- panied by the Vice-President, Mr. John Adams, passed into the Senate chamber. Immediately after, accompanied by both houses, he went into the gallery fronting Broad street, and before them and an immense concourse of citizens, took the oath prescribed by the constitution, which was adminis- tered by R. R. Livingston, the Chancellor of the state of New York. An awful silence prevailed among the specta- tors during this part of the ceremony. It was a minute of most sublime political joy. The Chancellor then proclaim- ed him President of the United States. This was answered by the discharge of thirteen guns ; and by the effusion of shouts from near 10,000 grateful and affectionate hearts. The President bowed most respectfully to the people, and the air resounded again with their acclamations. He then re- tired to the Senate Chamber, where he made the following speech to both houses : 192 THE LIFE OF " Fellow-citizens of the Senate, AND OF the House of Representatives : • " Among the vicissitudes incident to life, no event could have filled me with greater anxieties than that of which the notification was trans- mittcd by your order, and received on the 14th day of the present month. On the one hand, I was summoned by my country, whose voice I can never hear but with veneration and love, from a retreat which I had chosen with the fondest predilection, and, in my flatter- ing hopes, with an immutable decision, as the asylum of my declining^ years : a retreat which was rendered every day more necessary as well as more dear to me, by the addition of habit to inclination, and of fre- quent interruptions- in my health to the gradual waste committed on it by time. On the other hand, the magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who, inheriting inferiour endowments from nature, and unpractised in the duties of civil administration, ouglit to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies. In this conflict of emotions, all I dare aver is, that it has been my faithful study to recollect my duty from a just appreciation of every circumstance by which it might be eflfected. All I dare hope is, that, if in accepting this task, I have been too much swayed by a grateful remembrance of former instances, or by an affec- tionate sensibility to this transcendent proof of the confidence of my fellow-citizens ; and have thence too little consulted my incapacity, as well as disinclination for the weighty and untried cares before me ; my ERROR will be palliated by tlie motives which misled me, and its consequences be judged by my country with some share of tlie partiali;- ty in which they originated. " Such being the impressions under which I have, in obedience to the publick summons, repaired to the present station ; it will be peculiarly improper to omit, in this first oflicia] act, my fervent supplications to that Almighty Being who rules over the universe ; who presides in the councils of nations ; and whose providential aids can supply every human defect, that his benediction may consecrate to the liberties and happiness of the people of the United States, a government instituted by themselves for these essential purposes ; and may enable every instrument employed in its administration, to execute with success, the functions allotted to its charge. In tendering this homage to the great Author of every publick and private good, I assure myself that it expresses your sentiments not less than my own ; nor those of my fellow-citizens at large, less than either.. No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which conducts the affairs of men, more than the people of the United States. Every step by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency ; and in the important revolution just accomplished in the system of their united government, the tranquil deliberations and voluntary consent of so many distinct communities, from which the event has resulted, cannot be compared with the means by which most governments have been established, without some return of pious gratitude along with aa GEtm^lS WASHINGTON. 193 humble anticipation of the future blessings which the past seems to presage. These reflections arising out of the present crisis, have forced themselves too strongly on my mind to be suppressed. You will join with me, I trust, in thinking that there are none, under the influence of which the proceedings of a new and free government can more auspiciously commence. " By the article establishing the executive department, it is made the duty of the president ' to recommend to your consideration, such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient.' The circum- stances under which I now meet you will acquit me from entering into that subject, farther than to refer to the great constitutional charter under which you are assembled, and which, in defining your powers, designates the objects to which your attention is to be given. It will be more consistent with those circumstances, and far more congenial with the feelings which actuate me, to substitute in place of a recommendation of particular measures, the tribute that is due to the talents, the rectitude, and the patriotism, which adorn the charac- ters selected to devise and adopt them. In these honourable quali- fications, I behold the surest pledges that, as on one side, no local prejudices or attachments, no separate views nor party animosities, will misdirect the comprehensive and equal eye which ought to watch over this great assemblage of communities and interests : so, on another, that the foundations of our national policy will be laid in the pure and immutable principles of private morality ; and the preeminence of free government be exemplified by all the attributes which can win the affections of its citizens, and command the respect of the world. I dwell on this prospect with every satisfaction which an ardent love for my country can inspire ; since there is jio truth more thoroughly established than that there exists, in the economy and course of na- ture, an indissoluble union between virtue and happiness ; between duty and advantage ; between the genuine maxims of an honest and magnanimous policy, and the solid rewards of publick prosperity and felicity: since we ought to be no less persuaded that the propitious smiles of heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right, which heaven itself has ordained : and since the preservation of the sacred fire of liberty, and the destiny of the republican model of government, are justly considered as deeply, perhaps as finally staked on the experiment intrusted to the hands of the American people, " Besides the ordinary objects submitted to your care, it will re- main with your judgement to decide, how far an exercise of the occasional power delegated by the fifth article of the constitution is rendered expedient, at the present juncture, by the nature of objec- tions which have been urged against the system, or by the degree of inquietude which has given birth to them. Instead of undertaking particular recommendations on this subject, in which 1 could be guided by no lights derived from official opportunities, I shall again give way to my entire confidence in your discernment and pursuit of the publick good: for I assure myself, that whilst you curefuUy avoid every al- teration which might endanger the benefits of a united and effective government, or which ought to await the future lessons of experience ; a reverence for the characteristick rights of freemen, and a regard for 17* 194 THE LIFE or the publick harmony, will sufl5ciently influence your deliberations on the question how far the former can be more impregnably fortified, or the latter be safely and advantageously promoted.. " To the preceding observations I have one to add, which will be most properly addressed to. the house of representatives. It concerns myself, and will therefore be as brief as possible. When I was first honoured with a call into the service of my country, then on the eve of an arduous struggle for its liberties, the light in which I contem- plated my duty required that I should renounce every pecuniary com- pensation. From this resolution I have iji no instance departed. And being still under the impressions which produced it, I must decline, as inapplicable to myself, any share in the personal emoluments which may be indispensably included in a permanent provision for the execu- tive department; and must accordingly pray that the pecuniary esti- mates for the station in which I am placed, may, during my continu- ance in it, be limited to such actual expenditures ks the publick good may be thought to require. " Having thus imparted to you my sentiments, as they have been awakened by the occasion which brings us together, I shall take my present leave ; but not without resorting once more to the benign Parent of the human race, in humble supplication, that since he has been pleased to favour the American people with opportunities for deliberating, in perfect tranquillity, and dispositions for deciding with unparalleled unanimity on a form of government for the security of their union, and the advancement of their happiness ; so his divine blessing may be equally conspicuous in the enlarged views, the tem^ perate consultations,, and the wise measures on which the success of this government must depend." In their answer to this speech^ the senate say :: " The uaiajiiraous^ sufl5-age of the elective body in your favour, i» peculiarly expressive of the gratitude, confidence, and aifection of the citizens of America, and is the highest testimonial at once of yotir merit, and their esteem. We are sensible, sir, that nothing but the voice of your fellow-citizens could have called you from a retreat, chosen with the fondiest predilection, endeared by habit, and conse- crated to the repose of declining years. We rejoice, and with us all America, that, in obedience to the call of our common country, you have returned once more to publick life. In you all parties confide ; in you all interests unite ; and we have no doubt that your past ser- vices, great as they have been, will be equalled by your future exer- tions ; and that your prudence and sagacity as a statesman, will tend to avert the dangers to which we were exposed, to give stability to the present government, and dignity and splendour to that country, which your skill and valour as a soldier, so- eminently contributed to raise to independence and to empire.?' The affection for the person and character of the Presi- dent with which the answer of the house of representatiyes glowed, promised that between this branch of the legislature also and the executive, the most harmonious co-operation in the publick service might be expectetf* GEOROE WASHINOTOrr. 195 "The representatives of the people of the United States," says this address, " present their congratulations on the event by which your fellow-citizens have attested the pre-eminence of your merit. You have long held the first place in their esteem. You have often re. ceived tokens of their affection. You now possess the only proof that remained of their gratitude for your services, of their reverence for your wisdom, and of their confidence in your virtues. You enjoy the highest, because the truest honour, of being the first magistrate, by the unanimous choice of the freest people on the face of the earth. " We well know the anxieties with which you must have obeyed the summons from the repose reserved for your declining years, into publick scenes of which you had taken your leave for ever. But obedience was due to the occasion. It is already applauded by the universal joy which welcomes you to your station. And we cannot doubt that it will be rewarded with all the satisfaction with which an ardent love for your fellow-citizens must review successful efibrts to promote their happiness. " This anticipation is not justified merely by the past experience of your signal services. It is particularly suggested by the pious im- pressions under which you commence your administration ; and the enlightened maxims by which you mean to conduct it. We feel with you the strongest obligations to adore the invisible hand which has led the American people through so many difficulties j to cherish a conscious responsibility for the destiny of republican liberty ; and to seek the only sure means of preserving and recommending the precious deposit in a system of legislation founded on tfee principles of an honest policy, and directed by the spirit of a diffusive patriotism, " In forming the pecuniary provisions for the executive department^ we shall not lose sight of a wish resulting from motives which give it a peculiar claim to our regard. Your resolution, in a moment critical to the liberties of your country, to renounce all personal emolument,, was among the many presages of your patriotick services, which have been amply fulfilled ; and your scrupulous adherence now to the law then imposed on yourself, cannot fail to demonstraie the purity, whilst it increases the lustre of a character which has so many titles to admiration. " Such are the sentiments with which we have thought fit to address you. They flow from our own hearts, and we verily believe that among the millions we represent, there is not a virtuous citizen whose heart will disown them. ♦• All that remains is, that we join in your fervent supplications for the blessing of Heaven on our country ; and that we add our own for the choicest of these blessings on the most beloved of her citizens." The President and Congress then attended on divine service. In the evening a very ingenious and splendid show of fireworks was exhibited. Betwixt the fort and the Bowling Green stood conspicuous^ a superb and brilliant transparent painting, in the centre of which was the portrait of the President, represented under the emblem of Fortitude i on 196 THE LIFE OP his right hand was Justice, representing the Senate of the United States, and on his left Wisdom, representing the House of Representatives. When Washington commenced his administration, the condition of the United States was so embarrassed as to ex. cite many fears for the success of the new government. The treasury was empty. Large debts were due both by the old Congress and individuals to foreigners, and also from the United States to its own citizens, and from citizens to citi- zens. Every effort made by the former government to pay, or even to fund its debts, had failed, from the imbecility of the federal system. Great discontents prevailed in the United States, for the party opposed to the new constitution was strong and numerous. Several of these were elected to seats in the new Congress. Some were clamorous for a new convention, and the most moderate for amendments of what had been ratified. Two states. North Carolina and Rhode Island, by refusing an acceptance of the constitution, were without the pale of its operations. Animosities prevailed to a great degree between the Uni- ted States and Great Britain. Each charged the other with a breach of their late treaty. In support of these char- ges, one party urged the severities practised towards the loyalists, and that some of the states had interposed legal impediments to the recovery of debts due to British subjects. The other recriminated by alleging, that the British, on their departure from the United States, had carried off with them several thousands of negroes belonging to the Americans ;. and continued to possess sundry posts within the acknow- ledged limits of the United States ^ and that from these posts- they encouraged and instigated the neighbouring Indians to make war on their north-western frontier settlements. Spain,, from the circumstance of their owning the land on each side of the mouth of the Mississippi, daimed the exclusive navigation of that river; while the western inhabitants of the United States looked to their c^ountry for a vindication of their common right to the use of this highway of nature. The boundaries of the United States towards the territories- of Spain in the south, and towards those of Britain in the north-east, were both unsettled and in dispute. The whole regular effective force of the United States, was less than 600 men. Their trade was restricted much more than wheu GEORGE WASHINGTON. 197 they formed apart of the British empire. They had neither money to purchase, nor a naval force to compel the friend, ship of the Barbary powers ; and were therefore exposed to capture whenever they ventured to trade in the Mediterra- nean, the coasts of which offered the best markets for some of their valuable commodities. ♦ The military strength of the northern Indians who inha- bited the country between the Lakes, the Mississippi, and the Ohio, was computed at 5,000 men, and of these 1,500 were at open war with the United States. The Creeks, in the south-west, who could bring 6,000 fighting men into the field, were at war with Georgia. These were but a part of the embarrassments under which the United States laboured when Gen. Washington was called to the helm. The redress of most of them required legislative interference, as well as executive aid. To point out the particular agency of the President in removing these embarrassments, and generally meliorating the condition of the United States, is peculiarly the province of the biogra- pher of Washington. Congress having organized the great departments of gov- ernment, it became the duty of the President to designate proper persons to fill them. In discharging this delicate and difficult trust, Washington kept himself free from every en- gagement, and uniformly declined giving decisive answers to applicants, having previously resolved to nominate per- sons to offices with a sole view to the publick good, and to bring forward those who, upon every consideration, and from the best information he could obtain, were in his judge- ment most likely to answer the great end. Under these impressions he placed Col. Hamilton at the head of the Treasury Department. At the head of the Department of Foreign Affairs, he placed Mr Jefferson. General Knox was continued in the Department of War, which he had filled under the old Congress. The office of Attorney General was assigned to Mr. Ed- mund Randolph. These composed the cabinet council of the first President The judicial department was filled as follows : John Jay, of New York, Chief Justice. John Rutledge, of South Carolina, 198 THE LIFE or James Wilson, of Pennsylvania, William Gushing, of Massachusetts, Robert Harrison, of Maryland, and John Blair, of Virginia, Associate Judges. The officers who had been appointed by the individual states to manage the revenue, which, under the old system, was paid into the state treasury, were reappointed to cor- responding offices under the new constitution, by which the revenue had been transferred from the local to the general treasury of the Union. It was among the first cares of Washington to make peace' with the Indians. Gen. Lincoln, Mr. Griffin, and Col. Hum- phreys, very soon after the inauguration of the President, were deputed by him to treat with th« Creek Indians. These met with M'Gillvray, and other chiefs of the nation with about 2,000 men, at the Rock Landing, on the frontiers of Georgia. The negotiations were soon broken off by M'Gill- vray, whose personal interests and connexion with Spain were supposed to have been the real cause of their abrupt and unsuccessful termination. The next year brought round an accomplishment of the President's wishes, which had failed in the first attempt. Policy and interest concurred in re- commending every prudent measure for detaching the Creek Indians firom all connexion with the Spaniards, and cement- ing their friendship with the United States. Negotiations carried on with them in the vicinity of the Spanish settle- ments, promised less than negotiations conducted at the seat of government. To induce a disposition favourable to this change of place, the President sent Col. Willet, a gallant and intelligent officer of the late army, into the Creek coun- try, apparently on private business, but with a letter of intro- duction to M'Gillvray, and with instructions to take occa- sional opportunities to point out the distresses which a war with the United States would bring on the Creek nation, and the indiscretion of their breaking off the negotiation at the Rock Landing ; and to exhort him to repair with the chiefs of his nation to New York, in order to effect a solid and last, ing peace. Willet performed these duties with so much dex- terity, that M'Gillvray, with the chiefs of his nation, were induced to come to New York, where fresh negotiations commenced, which, on the 7th of August, 1790, terminated in the establishment of peace. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 199 The pacifick overtures made by Washington to the Indians of the Wabash and the Miamis, failed of success. Long ex- perience had taught the President, that on the failure of ne- gotiations with Indians, policy, economy, and even humanity required the employment of a sufficient force to carry ofTen- sive war into their country, and lay waste their settlements. The accomplishment of this was no easy matter. The In- dian nations were numerous, accustomed to war, and not without discipline. They were said to be furnished with arms and ammunition from the British posts held within the United States, in violation of the treaty of peace. Generals Har- mar and Sinclair were successively defeated by the Indians; and four or five years elapsed before they were subdued. This was accomplished by Gen. Wayne, in 1794. Soon after that event, a peace was concluded, under his auspices, between these Indians and the United States. In the pro- gress of this last Indian war, repeated overtures of peace were made to the North-western Indians, but rejected. About the same period a new system was commenced for turning them off from hunting to theemployments of civilized life, by furnishing them with implements and instructions for agriculture and manufactures. In this manner, during the Presidency of George Washing- ton, peace was restored to the frontier settlements both in the north and south-west, which has continued ever since, and it is likely to do so, while, at the same time, the pros- pect of meliorating the condition of the savages is daily brightening; for the system first began by Washington with the view of civilizing these fierce sons of nature, has been ever since steadily pursued by all his successors. Indian wars are now only known from the records or recollection of past events ; and it is probable that the day is not far dis- tant when the United States will receive a considerable ac- cession of citizens from the civilized red men of the forest.* ♦ This work was first published in 1807. A few years after, the war with Great Britain brought with it a renewal of Indian hostilities; which, although now nearly, and we trust may soon be permanently, at an end, still hnger, with aimoying perversity, upon the borders of Florida. Since our author wrote, Louisiana and Florida have been purchased, rescuing the Indians within their limits from foreign jurisdiction and influence ; and the Indian tide has also been extinguished to about three hundred millions of acres of land. We have thus acquired a vast accession of territory; but the author's anticipation of "a considerable accession of citizens from the civilized red men of the forest," have not yet been ^00 TliE LIFJE OiP CHAP. XII. Gen. Washington attends to the foreign relations of the United Stated. Negotiates with Spain. Difficulties in the way. The free navigation of the Mississippi is granted by a treaty made with Major Pinckney. Negotiations with Great Britain. Difficulties in the way. War pro- bable. Mr, Jay's mission. JHis treaty with Great Britain. Opposi- tion thereto. Is ratified. Washington refuses papers to House of Representatives. British posts in United Stated evacuated. Negotia- tions with France. Genet's arrival. Assunles illegal powers, in viola- tion of the neutrality of the United States. Is flaitered by the people, but opposed by the executive, ts recalled. Gen. Pinckney sent as publick minister to adjust disputes with Prance, Is not received. Washington declines a re-election, and addresses the people. His last address to the national legislature. Recommends a navy, a military academy, and other publick institutions. 1794—1796. Events which had taken place before the inauguration of Washington, embarrassed his negotiations for the adjust- ment of the political relations between the United States and Spain.* realized. The more recent poUcy of colonizing the Indians beyond thg limits of the United States, is an experiment which may, or may not, disappoint the expectations of those statesmen and philanthropists by whom it has been favoured. * Our author has not mentioned the second election of Gen. Washington to the Presidency, which took place, by the unanimous vote of the elec- tors, in 1792. It was his intention to have retired at the end of his first term; and this intention was yielded only to the force of circumstances, and to the urgent sohcitations of the leading individuals of both parties. We say of " both parties," for it was during the first term of Generall Washington's administration that the lines of demarkation were com- menced that were to divide the great political parties which have ever since, under various modifications, agitated this country. Gen. Hamilton, then Secretary of the Treasury, was the original organ of one party, and Mr. Jefferson, then Secretary of State, of the other. The principles and opinions which were the sources of difference between these distinguished individuals and their friends, are not properly subjects for this note. These growing differences, however, caused to Gen. Washington much anxiety. He was equally the friend of both these zealous and embryd leaders, and deprecated and feared the spirit of party, the effects of which he apprehended, might be fatal, particularly at that early period in the organization of a form of government, then regarded as an experiment, but which is now happily a demonstration. To both Hamilton and Jef- ferson, he wrote affectionately, urging upon them moderation and forbear-»^ GEORGE WASHINGTON. 201 In the year 1779, Mr. Jay had been appointed by the old Congress to make a treaty with his Catholick Majesty ; but his best endeavours for more than two years were ineffectual. in a fit of despondence, while the revolutionary war was pressing, he had been authorized to agree " to relinquish, and in future forbear to use the navigation of the river Mis- sissippi, from the point where it leaves the United States, down to the ocean." After the war was ended, a majority of Congress had agreed to barter away for twenty-five years, their claim to this navigation. A long and intricate negotiation between Mr. Gardoqui, the Minister of his Catho* lick Majesty, and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, had taken place at New York, in the interval between the establishment of peace and of the new constitution of the United States ; but was rendered abortive from the inflexible adherence of Mr. Gardoqui to the exclusion of the citizens of the United States from navigating the Mississippi below their southern boundary. This unyielding disposition of Spain, the inabi- lity of the United States to assert their claims to the naviga- ance, in their publick and private relations, and he endeavoured to promote between them, and all with whom he was associated in the government, poUtically and personally, unanimity of feeling and action, for the further- ance of the great ends he had in view, the happiness and prosperity of his country. Although this adviee, amidst the gathering tempest of the time, was but partially heeded, he retained the respect and confidence of all ; and Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Jefferson were first among those who urged upon him to yield his consent to a re-election. "The confidence of the whole Union," said Jefferson, "is centred in you. Your being at the helm will be more than an answer to every argument, which can be used to alarm and lead the people in any quarter into violence and seces* sion. North and South will hang together, if they have you to hang on ; and, if the first corrective of a numerous representation should fail in its effect, your presence will give time for trying others not inconsistent with the union and peace of the States. I am perfectly aware of the oppres- sion under which your present office lays your mind, and of the ardour with which you pant for retirement to domestick life. But there is some- times an eminence of character on which society have such peculiar claims, as to control the predilection of the individual for a particular walk of happiness, and restrain him to that alone arising from the present and future benedictions of mankind." ***** " One or two sessions will determine the crisis; and I cannot but hope, that you can resolve to add one or two more to the many years you have already sacrificed to the good of mankind." Hamilton urged upon him to consent for similar reasons. " It is clear," said he, " that if you continue in office, nothing materially mischievous is to be apprehended; if you quit, much is to be dreaded. * * * " t trust, and I pray God, that you will determine to make a further sacrifice of your tranquillity and happiness to the publick good." These and corresponding solicitations, prevailed, and Wasnington ?ook again the oath of office, on the 4th of March, 1793. 18 202 THE LIFE OF tion of this river, and especially the facility which the old Congress had shown to recede from it for a term of years, had soured the minds of the western settlers. Their impa- tience transported them so far beyond the bounds of policy, that they sometimes dropped hints of separating from the Atlantick States, and attaching themselves to the Spaniards. In this critical state of things, the President found abundant exercise for all his prudence. The western inhabitants were, in fact, thwarting his views in their favour, and encourag- ing Spain to persist in refusing that free navigation, which was so ardently desired both by the President and the people. The adherence of Spain to the exclusive use of the lower Mississippi, and the impolitick discontents of the western inhabitants, were not the only embarrassments of Washing- ton, in negotiating with the court of Madrid. In 1793, four Frenchmen left Philadelphia, empowered by Mr. Genet, the minister of the French Republick, to prepare an expedition in Kentucky against New Orleans. Spain, then at war with France, was at peace with the United States. Washington was officially bound to interpose his authority to prevent the raising of an armed force from among his fellow-citizens to commit hostilities on a peacea- ble neighbouring power. Orders were accordingly given to the civil authority in Kentucky, to use all legal means to prevent this expedition ; but the execution of these orders was so languid, that it became necessary to call in the aid of the regular army. Gen. Wayne was ordered to establish a military post at Fort Massack on the Ohio, for the purpose of forcibly stopping any body of armed men, who, in opposi- tion to remonstrances, should persist in going down that river. Many of the high-spirited Kentuckians were so exaspera- ted against the Spaniards, as to be very willing to second the views of the French Minister, and under his auspices to attack New Orleans. The navigation of the Mississippi was so necessary for conveying to proper markets the surplus- age of their luxuriant soil, that to gain this privilege, others were willing to receive it from the hands of the Spaniards at the price of renouncing all political connexion with the United States. While these opposite modes of seeking a remedy for the same evil were pursuing by persons of dif- ferent temperaments, a remonstrance from the inhabitants GEORGE WASHINGTON. 203 of Kentucky was presented to Washington and Congress. This demanded the use of the Mississippi as a natural right, and at the same time charged the government with being under the influence of a local policy, which had prevented all serious efforts for the acquisition of a right which was essential to the prosperity of the western people. It spoke the language of an injured people, irritated by the mal-ad- ministration of their publick servants ; and hinted the proba- bility of a dismemberment of the Union, if their natural rights were not vindicated by government. To appease these dis- contents ; to restrain the French from making war on the Spaniards with a force raised and embodied in the United States ; and at the same time, by fair negotiation, to obtain the free use of the Mississippi from the court of Madrid, was the task assigned to Washington. Difficult and delicate as it was, the whole was accomplished. Anterior to the receipt of the Kentucky remonstrance, the President, well knowing the discontents of the interiour people, and that the publica- tion of them would obstruct his views, had directed the Secretary of State to give assurances to the Governour of Kentucky, that every exertion was making to obtain for the western people the free navigation they so much desired. The strong arm of government was successfully exerted to frustrate the expedition projected by the French Minister against New Orleans ; and, while these matters were pending, Major Thomas Pinekney was appointed Envoy Extraordin- ary to the court of Madrid ; and in the year 1795, he con- cluded a treaty with his Catholick Majesty, in which the claims of the United States on the subject of boundary, and ihe navigation of the Mississippi, were fully conceded. By these events, the discontents of the western people were done away. Tranquillity was restored between the Atlantick and western states ; and all points in controversy between the United States and Spain were satisfactorily adjusted. The most important of these, the free navigation of the Missis- sippi, had been the subject of discussion in the hands of dif- ferent negotiators, for almost the whole of the immediately preceding fifteen years. Great were the difficulties Washington had to encounter in amicably settling all matters with Spain ; but much greater stood in the way of a peaceable adjustment of various grounds of controversy between the United States and Great Britain, 204 THE LIFE OF Each of these two nations charged the other with a breach of the treaty of peace, in 1783, and each supported the charge against the other, with more soUd arguments than either alleged in their own defence. The peace terminated the calamities of the war, but was far from terminating the resentments which were excited by it. Many in the United States believed that Great Britain was their natural enemy, and that her views of subjecting the United States to her empire, were only for the present suspended. Soon after the peace, Mr. John Adams had been deputed by the old Congress to negotiate a treaty between the United States and Great Britain ; but the latter declined to meet this advance of the former. While he urged on the court of Great Britain, the necessity they were under by the late treaty to evacuate their posts on the south side of the lakes of Canada, they retorted that some of the states had, in violation of the same treaty, passed laws interposing legal impediments to the recovery of debts due to British subjects. Washington's love of justice was not weakened by par- tiality to his country. In a letter to a member of CongresSy he observed — " It was impolitick and unfortunate, if not unjust, in those states to pass laws, which, by fair construc- tion, might be considered as infractions of the treaty of peace. It is good policy at all times, to place one's adversary in the wrong. Had we observed good faith, and the wes- tern posts had been withheld from us by Great Britain, we might have appealed to God and man for justice. "What a misfortune is it," said he, in another letter, " that the British should have so well grounded a pretext for their palpable infractions ; and what a disgraceful part, out of the choice of difliculties before us, are we to act !" In the first years of Washington's presidency, he took informal measures to sound the British cabinet, and to as- certain its views respecting the United States. To Mr. Gouverneur Morris, who had been carried by private business to Europe, this negotiation was intrusted. He conducted it with ability ; but found no disposition in the court of Great Britain to accede to the wishes of the United States. In about two years more, when the stability and energy of the government as administered by Washington became a matter of publick notoriety, the British, of their own motion, sent Mr. Hammond their first minister to the United States. 6EOSGE WASHINGTON. 205 This advance induced the President to nominate Mr. Thomas Pinckney as Minister Plenipotentiary to the court of Great Britain. About this time war commenced between France and Great Britain. The correct, sound judgment of Washing- ton instantly decided that a perfect neutrality was the right, the duty, and the interest of the United States, and of this he gave publick notice by a proclamation, in April, 1793. Subsequent events have proved the wisdom of this measure, though it was then reprobated by many. The war between the late enemies and friends of the United States, revived revolutionary feelings in the breasts of the citizens, and en- listed the strongest passions of human nature against the one, and in favour of the other. A wish for the success of France was almost universal ; and many were willing to hazard the peace of their country, by taking an active part in the war in her favour. The proclamation was at variance with the feelings and the passions of a large portion of the citizens. To compel the observance of neutrality under these circumstances, was no easy matter. Hitherto Wash- ington had the people with him ; but in this case a large proportion was on the other side. His resolution was never- theless unshaken ; and at the risk of popularity he persisted in promoting the real good of his fellow-citizens, in opposi- tion to their own mistaken wishes and views. The tide of popular opinion ran as strongly against Bri- tain as in favour of France. The former was accused of instigating the Indians to acts of hostility against the United States ; of impressing their sailors ; of illegally capturing their ships ; and of stirring up the Algerines against them. The whole of this hostility was referred to a jealousy of the growing importance of the United States. Motions were made in Congress for sequestering debts due to British sub- jects; for entering into commercial hostility with Great Britain, and even for interdicting all intercourse with her, till she pursued other measures with respect to the United States. Every appearance portended immediate war between the two countries. The passionate admirers of France wished for it ; while others, more attached to British systems, dreaded a war with Great Britain, as being likely to throw the United States into the arms of France. In this state of things, when war seemed inevitable, the President composed 18* 206 THE LIFE OF the troubled scene by nominating John Jay, in April, 1794, Envoy Extraordinary to the court of London. By this measure a truce was obtained, and that finally ended in an adjustment of the point in controversy between the two countries. The exercise of tlie constitutional right of the President to negotiate, virtually suspended all hostile legis- lative measures ; for these could not with delicacy or propri- ety be urged, while the executive was in the act of treating for an amicable adjustment of difterences. A treaty between the United States and Great Britain was the result of this mission. This was pronounced by Mr. Jay, "to be the best that was attainable, and which he believed it for the interest of the United States to accept." While the treaty was before the Senate for consideration, a member, contrary to the rules of that body, furnished an editor of a newspaper with a copy of it. This being pub- lished, operated like a spark of fire applied to combustible materials. The angry passions which for some short time had been smothered, broke out atresh. Some went so far as to pronounce the treaty a surrender of their power to their late enemy. Great Britain, and a dereliction of their tried friend and ally, France. The more moderate said, that too much was given, and too little received. Meetings of the people were held at Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Balti- more, Charleston, and several other places, in which the treaty was pronounced to be unworthy of acceptance, and petitions were agreed upon and forwarded to the President, urging him to retuse his signature to the obnoxious instru- ment. These agitations furnished matter for serious reflection to the President, but they did not affect his conduct, though they induced a reiterated examination of the subject. In a private letter to a friend, after reciting the importance of the crisis, he added — " There is but one straight course, and that is to seek truth and to pursue it steadily." It is prob- able that he had early made up his mind to ratify the treaty as better than none, and infinitely better than war ; but regretted that it was so generally disliked, and considered by many as made with a design to oppress the French Republick. Under the weight of his high responsibility, he consoled himself, " that in time when passion shall have yielded to reason, the current may possibly turn." Peace GEORGE WASHINGTON. 207 with all the world was his policy, where it could be preserved with honour.* War he considered as an evil of such mag- nitude as never to be entered upon without the most impe- rious necessity. The mission of Mr. Jay was his last effort for the preservation of peace with Great Britain. The re- jection of the treaty which resulted from this mission, he considered as the harbinger of war ; for negotiation havino" failed to redress grievances, no alternative but war was left. By this prudent conduct, the rising states were preserved in peace, but the bickerings of the citizens among themselves, and their animosities against Great Britain, still continued. The popularity of the President for the present was dimi- nished ; but on this he had counted. In a letter to Gen. Knox, he observes — " Next to a conscientious discharge of my publick duties, to carry along with me the approbation of my constituents, would be the highest gratification of which my mind is susceptible. But the latter being se- condary, I cannot make the former yield to it, unless some criterion more infalUble than partial, (if they are not party,) meetings, can be discovered as the touchstone of publick sentiment. If any person on earth could, or the Great Power above would erect the standard of infallibility in po- litical opinions, no being that inhabits this terrestrial globe, would resort to it with more eagerness than myself, so long as I remain a servant of the publick. But as I have hith- erto found no better guide than upright intentions, and close * Although a brave and successful warriour, Washington was ever a friend of peace, and the decided advocate for an amicable policy among all nations. In a letter to the Marquis de Chastellux, dated Sept. 5th, 1785, he says : " It gives me great pleasure to find, by my last letters from France, that the dark clouds which overspread your hemisphere, are yielding to the sunshine of peace. My first wish is to see the bless- ings of it diffused through all countries, and among all ranks m every country, and that we should consider ourselves as the children of a com- mon parent, and be disposed to acts of brotherly kindness toward one another ; in that case, restriction of trade would vanish. We should take your wines, your fruit, and surplusage of such articles as our necessities or convenience might require, and in return give you our fish, our oil, our tobacco, our naval stores, &c. ; and in like manner should exchange produce with other countries, to the reciprocal advantage of each: and as the globe is large, why need we wrangle for a small spot of it? If one country cannot contain us, another should open its anns to us. But these halcyon days (if they ever did exist) are now no more. A wise Providence, 1 presume, has decreed it otherwise; and we shall be obliged to go on in the old way, disputing, and now and then fighting, until the great globe itself dissolves." 308 THB LIFK OF investigation, I shall adhere to them while I keep the watch." After the treaty was duly ratified, an attempt was made to render it a dead letter, by refusing the appropriations of money necessary to carry it into effect. Preparatory to this, a motion was made for the adoption of a resolution to request the President to lay before the House of Represen. tatives a copy of his instructions to Mr. Jay, together with the correspondence and other documents relative to the treaty with Great Britain. This involved a new question, where the treaty making power was constitutionally lodged 1 The debate was animated and vehement. Appeals were made both to reason and passion. After a discussion of more than twenty days, the motion was carried in the affir- mative by a majority of twenty.five votes. When the re- solution was presented to the President, he replied — "That he would take time to consider it." His situation was peculiarly delicate ; the passions of the people were strongly excited against the treaty ; the popularity of the demand being solely for information ; the large majority by which the vote was carried ; the suspicions that would probably attach in case of refusal, that circumstances had occurred in the course of the negotiation which the President was afraid to publish, added to other weighty considerations, would have induced minds of an ordinary texture, to yield to the request. With Washington, popularity was only a secondary object. To follow the path of duty and the publick good was a primary one. He had sworn to " pre- serve, protect, and defend the constitution." In his opinion the treaty.making power was exclusively given by the people in convention to the executive, and that the publick good required that it should be so exercised. Under the influence of these solemn obligations, he returned the following answer to the resolution which had been presented to him : — " Gentlemen of the Home of Representativea, •• With the utmost attention I have considered your resolution of the 24th inst. requesting me to lay before your house a copy of the instructions to the minister of the United States, who negotiated the treaty with the king of Great Britain, together with the correspond, ence and other documents relative to that treaty, excepting such of the said papers as any existing negotiation may render improper to be disclosed, " In deliberating upon this subject, it was impossible for me to lose GEORGE WASHINGTON. 209 sight of the principle which some have avowed in its discussion, or to avoid extending my views to the consequences which must flow from the admission of that principle. " I trust that no part of my conduct has ever indicated a disposition to witlihokl any information w4iich the constitution has enjoined it upon the President as a duty to give, or which could be required of him by either house of Congress as a right; and with truth I affirm, that it has been, as it will continue to be, while I have the honour to preside in the government, my constant endeavour to harmonize with the other branches thereof, so far as the trust delegated to me by the people of the United States, and my sense of the obligation it imposes, ' to preserve, protect, and defend the constitution,' will permit. " The nature of foreign negotiations requires caution, and their success must often depend on secrecy ; and even when brought to a conclusion, a full disclosure of all the measures, demands, or eventual concessions, which may have been proposed or contemplated, would be extremely impolitick ; for this might have a pernicious influence on future negotiations, or produce immediate inconveniences, perhaps danger and mischief, to other persons. The necessity of such cau- tion and secrecy was one cogent reason for vesting the pow^er of making treaties in the President, with the advice and consent of the Senate, the principle on which that body was formed confining it to a small number of members. " To admit then a right in the House of Representatives to demand, and to have as a matter of course, all the papers respecting a negotia- tion with a foreign power, would be to establish a dangerous prece- dent. " It does not occur that the inspection of the papers asked for, can be relative to any purpose under the cognizance of the House of Re- presentatives, except that of an impeachment, which the resolution has not expressed. I repeat that I have no disposition to withhold any information wliich the duty of my station will permit, or the pub- lick good shall require, to be disclosed ; and in fact all the papers af- fecting the negotiation with Great Britain were laid before the Senate when the treaty itself was communicated for their consideration and advice. " The course which the debate has taken on the resolution of the house, leads to some observations on the mode of making treaties un- der the constitution of the United States. " Having been a member of the general convention, and knowing the principles on which the constitution was formed, I have ever en- tertained but one opinion upon this subject ; and from the first estab- lishment of the government to this moment, xnj conduct has exem. plified that opinion — That the power of making treaties is exclusively vested in the President, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, provided two thirds of the Senators present concur; and that every treaty so made and promulgated, thenceforward becomes the law of the land. It is thus that the treaty-making power has been understood by foreign nations ; and in all the treaties made with them we have declared, and they have believed, that when ratified by the President with the advice and consent of the Senate, they become obligatory. In this construction of the constitution, every House of 210 THE LIFE OP Representatives has heretofore acquiesced, and, until the present time, not a doubt or suspicion has appeared to my knowledge that this con. struction was not the true one. Nay, they have more than acquiesced ; for until now, without controverting the obligation of such treaties, they have made all the requisite provisions for carrying them into effect. " There is also reason to believe that this construction agrees with the opinions entertained by the state conventions, when they were deliberating on the constitution, especially by 'those who objected to it ; because there was not required in commercial treaties the consent of two thirds of the whole number of the members of the Senate, in- stead of two thirds of the Senators present ; and because in treaties respecting territorial and certain other rights and claims, the concur- rence of three fourths of the whole number of the members of both houses respectively was not made necessary. " It is a fact declared by the general convention, and universally understood, that the constitution of the United States was the result of a spirit of amity and mutual concession ; and it is well known that under this influence, the smaller states were admitted to an equal re- presentation in the Senate with the larger states, and that this branch of the government was invested with great powers ; for on the equal participation of those powers, the sovereignty and political safety of the smaller states were deemed essentially to depend. " If other proofs than these, and the plain letter of the constitution itself, be necessary to ascertain the point under consideration, they may be found in the journals of the general convention, which I have deposited in the office of the department of state. In these journals it will appear that a proposition was made ' that no treaty should be binding on the United States which was not ratified by a law ;' and that the proposition was explicitly rejected. " As therefore it is perfectly clear to my understanding, that the assent of the House of Representatives is not necessary to the validity of a treaty ; as the treaty with Great Britain exhibits in itself all the objects requiring legislative provision, and on these the papers called for can throw no light ; and as it is essential to the due administration of the government, that the boundaries fixed by the constitution be- tween the different departments should be preserved — a just regard to the constitution and to the duty of my office, under all the circum- stances of this case, forbid a eompliance with your request." Though the call for papers was unsuccessful, the favourers of the resolution for that purpose opposed the appropriations necessary to carry the treaty into effect ; but, from the firm- ness of the President, the ground was altered. The treaty was ratified, and proclaimed to the publick as constitution- ally obligatory on the citizens. To refuse appropriations for carrying it into effect, would not only incur the high responsibility of breaking the publick faith, but make a schism in the government between the executive and legisla. tive departments* After long and vehement debates, in GEORGE WASHINGTON. 211 which argument and passion were both resorted to, with the view of exposing the merits and demerits of the treaty, the resolutions for bringing in the laws necessary to carry it into effect, was carried by a majority of three. Though in this discussion Washington had no direct agency, yet the final result in favour of the treaty was the consequence of the measures he had previously adopted. For having rati- fied the treaty and published it to the world as the law of the land, and having in his answer to the request of the House of Representatives, proved that he had a constitutional right so to do, the laws necessary for giving effect to the treaty, could not be withheld without hazarding the most serious consequences. The treaty which was thus carried into operation, pro- duced more good and less evil than was apprehended. It compromised ancient differences, produced amicable dispo- sitions, and a friendly intercourse. It brought round a peaceable surrender of the British posts, and compensation for American vessels illegally captured. Though it gave up some favourite principles, and some of its articles relative to commerce were deemed unequal, yet from Britain, as a great naval power holding valuable colonies and foreign possessions, nothing better, either with or without the treaty, could have been obtained. After the lapse of ten years has cooled the minds both of the friends and enemies of the treaty, most men will ac- knowledge that the measures adopted by Washington with respect to it were founded in wisdom ; proceeded from the purest patriotism ; were carried through with uncommon firmness ; and finally eventuated in advancing the interests of his country.* Thorny and difficult as was the line of policy proper to be pursued by Washington with respect to Britain, it was much more so in regard to France. The revolution in France, and the establishment of the constitution of \he Uni- * Later experience confirms the correctness of these views. This treaty, and the previous proclamation of neutrality, indicated to the world the pacifiick policy of the United States. Under subsequent administrations, that policy has been adhered to, and foibearance towards foreign powers has been exercised, in all cases, except where forbearance was no longer a virtue. Urged beyond this point of endurance, the late war with Great Britain, served as an admonition to the world, that the American people were as ready and able to vindicate their rights, as they were to cherish peace with all, and to do justice to all nations. 212 THE LIFE OF ted States, were nearly cotemporary events. Till about the year 1793, perfect harmony subsisted between the two countries; but from the commencement of the war between France and England, the greatest address was requisite to prevent the United States from being involved in war with one or the other, and sometimes with both. Good will to France, and hatred to Britain, which had prevailed more or less from the peace of 1783, revived with a great increase offeree on the breaking out of war between the two coun- tries. These dispositions were greatly increased by the arrival of Mr. Genet, the first Minister Plenipotentiary from the republick of France to the United States. He landed April 8th, 1793, at Charleston, S. C. the contiguity of which to the West Indies, fitted it to be a convenient resort for privateers. By the Governour of the state, Wm. Moultrie, and the citizens, he was received with ardour approaching to enthusiasm. During his stay, which was for several days, he received unequivocal proofs of the warmest attachment to his person, his country, and its cause. Encouraged by these evidences of the good wishes of the people for the success of the French revolution, he undertook to authorize the fitting and arming of vessels in that port, enlisting men, and giving commissions to vessels to cruise and commit hostilities on nations with whom the United States were at peace. The captures made by these cruisers were to be tried, condemned, and sold, under the authority of Genet, who had not yet been recognized as a publick Minister by the government. Similar marks of enthusiastick attachment were lavished on Genet as he passed through the country between Charles- ton and Philadelphia. At Gray's ferry, over the Schuylkill, he was met by crowds who flocked to do honour to the first ambassador of a republican allied nation. On the day after his arrival in Philadelphia, he received addresses from societies and the inhabitants, who expressed their gratitude for the aids furnished by the French nation to the United States in their late struggle for liberty and independence, and unbounded exultation at the success of the French arms. Genet's answers to these addresses were well calculated to preserve the idea of a complete fraternity between the two nations, and that their interests were the same. After Genet had been thus accredited by the citizens of Philadelphia, he was presented to the President, and received GEORGE WASHINGTON. 213 with expressions of a sincere and cordial regard for his nation, fn the conversation which took place on the occa- sion, Mr. Genet actions, under the persuasion that the private virtues of econojny, pru, dence, and industry, will not be less amiable in civil life, than the 258 APPENDIX. more splendid qualities of valour, perseverance, and enterprise, were in the field. Every one may rest assured, that much, very much of the future happiness of the officers and men, will depend upon the wise and manly conduct which shall be adopted by them, when they are mingled with the great body of the community. And, although the General has so frequently given it as his opinion, in the most pub- lick and explicit manner, that unless the principles of the federal gov- ernment were properly supported, and the powers of the Union increased, the honour, dignity, and justice of the nation, would be lost for ever ; yet he cannot help repeating, on this occasion so inte- resting a sentiment, and leaving it as his last injunction to every officer and every soldier, who may view the subject in the same serious point of light, to add his best endeavours to those of his worthy fellow- citizens, towards effecting these great and valuable purposes, on which our very existence as a nation so materially depends. The Commander in Chief conceives little is now wanting to enable the soldier to change the military character into that of the citizen, but that steady, decent tenor of behaviour, which has generally distinguish- ed not only the army under his immediate command, but the different detachments and armies, through the course of the war. From their good sense and prudence he anticipates the happiest consequences ; and while he congratulates them on the glorious occasion which renders their service in the field no longer necessary, he wishes to express the strong obligations he feels himself under, for the assistance he has re- ceived from every class, and in every instance. He presents his thanks in the most serious and affectionate manner, to the general officers, as well for their counsels on many interesting occasions, as for their ardour in promoting the success of the plans he had adopted — to the commandants of regiments, and corps, and to the other officers, for their zeal and attention in carrying his orders promptly into execu- tion — to the staff, for their alacrity and exactness in performing the duties of their several departments ; and to the non-commissioned officers and private soldiers, for their extraordinary patience and suf- fering, as well as their invincible fortitude in action. To the various branches of the army, the General takes this last and solemn oppor- tunity of professing his inviolable attachment and friendship. He wishes more than bare professions were in his power, that he was really able to be useful to them all in future life. He flatters himself, however, they will do him the justice to believe, that whatever could with propriety be attempted by him, has been done. And being now to conclude these his last publick orders, to take his ultimate leave in a short time of the military character, and to bid a final adieu to the armies he has so long had the honour to command, he can only again offer in their behalf, his recommendations to their grateful country, and his prayers to the God of armies. May ample justice be done them here, and may the choicest of heaven's favours, both here and hereafter, attend those who, under the divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings for others. With these wishes, and this benediction, the Commander in Chief is about to retire from service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the mili- tary scene to him will be closed for ever. APPENDIX. 259 ^No. III.) GEN. WASHINGTON'S WILL. VIRGINIA, Fairfax, ss. /, George Deneale, Clerk of Fairfax County Court, do certify, That the subsequent copy of the last Will and Testament of George Washington, deceased, late President of the United States of America, with the Schedule annexed, is a true copy from the original, recorded in my office. In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, this 23d day of January, 1800. George Deneale, C. F. C. IN THE NAME OF GOD, Amen. I, George Washington, of Mount Vernon, a citizen of the United States, and lately President of the same. Do make, ordain, and declare this Instrument, which is written with my own hand, and every page thereof subscribed with my name,* to be my last will and testament, revoking all others. Impritnus. — All my debts, of which there are but few, Sind none of magnitude, are to be punctually and speedily paid; and the legacies herein after bequeathed, are to be discharged as soon as circumstances will permit, and in the manner directed. Item. — To my dearly beloved wife, Martha Washington, I give and bequeath the use, profit, and benefit of my whole estate, real and per. sonal, for the term of her natural life, except such parts thereof as are specially disposed of hereafter. My improved lot in the town of Alex, andria, situated on Pitt and Cameron streets, I give to her and her heirs for ever ; as I also do my household and kitchen furniture of every sort and kind, with the liquors and groceries which may be on hand at the time of my decease, to be used and disposed of as she may think proper. Item. — Upon the decease of my wife, it is my will and desire, that all the slaves which I hold in my own right, shall receive their freedom. To emancipate them during her life, would, though earnestly wished by me, be attended with such insuperable difficulties, on account of * In the original manuscript, George Washingtoh'b name is written at the bottom of every page. 260 APPENDIX. their intermixture by marriages with the dower negroes, as to excite the most painful sensations, if not disagreeable consequences to the latter, while both descriptions are in the occupancy of the same pro* prietor ; it not being in my power, under the tenure by which the dower negroes are held, to manumit them. And whereas, among those who will receive freedom according to this devise, there may be some who, from old age or bodily infirmities, and others who, on account of their infancy, will be unable to support themselves, it is my will and desire, that all who come under the first and second description, shall be comfortably clothed and fed by my heirs while they live : and that such of the latter description as have no parents living, or, if living, are unable or unwilling to provide for them, shall be bound by the court until they shall arrive at the age of 25 years ; and in cases where no record can be produced, whereby their ages can be ascertained, the judgment of the court, upon its own view of the subject, shall be adequate and final. The negroes thus bound, are, (by their masters Or mistresses,) to be taught to read and write, and bfe brought up to some useful occupation, agreeably to the laws of the commonwealth of Virginia, providing for the support of orphan and other poor chil- dren. And I do hereby expressly forbid the sale or transportation out of the said commonwealth, of any slave I may die possessed of, under any pretence whatsoever. And I do moreover most pointedly and most solemnly enjoin it upon my executors hereafter named, or the survivors of them, to see that this clause respecting slaves, and every part thereof, be religiously fulfilled at the epoch at which it is directed to take place, without evasion, neglect, or delay, after the crops which may then be on the ground are harvested, particularly as it respects the aged and infirm ; seeing that a regular and permanent fund be established for their support as long as they are subjects requiring it, not trusting to the uncertain provision made by individuals — And, to my mulatto man, William, (calling himself William Lee,) I give im- mediate freedom, or if he should prefer it, (on account of the accidents Which have befallen him, and which have rendered him incapable of walking, or of any active employment,) to remain in the situation he now is, it shall be optional in him to do so ; in either case, however, I allow him an annuity of 30 dollars during his natural life, which shall be independent of the victuals and clothes he has been accustomed to receive, if he chooses the latter alternative ; but in full with his freedom, if he prefers the first ; and this I give him as a testimony of my sense of his attachment to me, and for his faithful services during the revolutionary war. Item. — To the trustees, (governours, or by whatsoever other name they may be designated,) of the academy in the town of Alexandria, I give and bequeath, in trust, 4000 dollars, or in other words, 20 of the shares which I hold in the bank of Alexandria, towards the support of a, free school, established at, and annexed to, the said academy, for the purpose of educating orphan children, or the children of such other poor and indigent persons as are unable to accomplish it with their own means, and who, in the judgement of the trustees of the said seminary, are best entitled to the benefit of this donation. The aforesaid twenty shares I give and bequeath in perpetuity, the dividends only of which APPENDIX. 261 tte to be drawn for and applied by tbe said trustees, for the time being, for the uses above mentioned ; the stock to remain entire and untouched, unless indications of failure of the said bank should be so apparent, or a discontinuance thereof, should render a removal of this fund necessary. In either of these cases, the amount of the stock here devised is to be vested in some other bank, or publick institution, whereby the interest may with regularity and certainty be drawn and applied as above. And, to prevent misconception, my meaning is, and is hereby declared to be, that these twenty shares are in lieu of, and not in addition to, the lOOOL given by a missive letter some years ago, in consequence whereof an annuity of 501. has since been paid towards the support of this institution. Item. — Whereas, by a law of the commonwealth of Virginia, enacted in the year 1785, the legislature thereof was pleased, (as an evidence of its approbation of the services I had rendered the publick during the revolution, and partly, I believe, in consideration of my having suggested the vast advantages which the community would derive from the extension of its inland navigation, under legislative patron, age,) to present me with 100 shares of 100 dollars each, in the incor, porated company established for the purpose of extending the naviga- tion of James River, from the tide-water to the mountains ; and also with 50 shares of lOOZ. sterling each, in the corporation of another company, likewise established for the similar purpose of opening the navigation of the river Potomack, from the tide-water to Fort Cumber- land ; the acceptance of which, although the offer was liighly honoura- ble and grateful to my feelings, was refused, as inconsistent with a principle which I had adopted, and had never departed from — namely, not to receive pecuniary compensation for any services I could render my country in its arduous struggle with Great Britain for its righte, and because I had evaded similar propositions from other states in the Union ; adding to this refusal, however, an intimation, that, if it should be the pleasure of the legislature to permit me to appropriate the said ehares to publick uses, I would receive them on those terms with due sensibility ; and this it having consented to, in flattering terms, as will appear by a subsequent law, and sundry resolutions, in the most am- ple and honourable manner — I proceed, after this recital, for the more correct understanding of the case, to declare. That as it has always been a source of serious regret with me, to see the youth of these United States sent to foreign countries for the purposes of education, often before their minds were formed, or they had imbibed any ade- quate ideas of the happiness of their own ; contracting, too frequently, not only habits of dissipation and extravagance, but principles un- friendly to republican government, and to the true and genuine liberties of mankind, which, thereafter, are rarely overcome. For these rea- sons, it has been my ardent wish to see a plan devised, on a liberal scale, which would have a tendency to spread systematick ideas through all parts of this rising empire, thereby to do away local attachments and Btate prejudices, as far as the nature of things would, or indeed ought to admit, from our national councils. Looking anxiously for- ward to the accomplishment of so desirable an object as this is, (in my estimation,) my mind has not been able to contemplate any plan more 23 262 APPENDIX. likely to effect the measure, than the establishment of a university in a central part of the United States, to which the youths of fortune and talents from all parts thereof, might be sent for the completion of tlieir education in all the branches of polite literature, in the arts and sciences, in acquiring knowledge in the principles of politicks and good government ; and, as a matter of infinite importance in my judg- ment, by associating with each other, and forming friendships in juve- nile years, be enabled to free themselves, in a proper degree, from those local prejudices and habitual jealousies which have just been men- tioned, and which, when carried to excess, are never-failing sources of disquietude to the publick mind, and pregnant of mischievous con- Sequences to this country. — Under these impressions, so fully dilated. Item. — I give and bequeath, in perpetuity, the 50 shares which I hold in the Potomack Company, (under the aforesaid acts of the legis- lature of Virginia,) towards the endowment of a university, to be estab- lished within the limits of the District of Columbia, under the auspices ojf the general government, if that government should incline to extend a fostering hand towards it; and until such seminary is established, and the funds arising on these shares shall be required for its support, my further will and desire is, that the profit accruing therefrom, shall, whenever the dividends are made, be laid out in purchasing stock in the bank of Columbia, or some other bank, at the discretion of my exe- cutors, or by the treasurer of the United States for the time being, un- der the direction of Congress, provided that honourable body should patronise the measure ; and the dividends proceeding from the pur- chase of such stock are to be vested in more stock, and so on, until a sum adequate to the accomplishment of the object is obtained, of which I have not the smallest doubt before many years pass away, even if no aid or encouragement is given by legislative authority, or from any other source. Item. — The hundred shares which I hold in the James River Com- pany, 1 have given, and now confirm, in perpetuity, to and for the use and benefit of Liberty Hall Academy, in the county of Rockbridge, in the commonwealth of Virginia. Item. — I release, exonerate, and discharge, the estate of my deceased brother, Samuel Washington, from the payment of the money which is due to me for the land I sold to Philip Pendleton, (lying in the county of Berekley,) who assigned the same to him, the said Samuel^ who, by agreement, was to pay me therefor : and whereas by some contract, (the purport of which was never communicated to me,) be- tween the said Samuel and his son Thornton Washington, the latter became possessed of the aforesaid land, without any conveyance hav- ing passed from me, either to the said Pendleton, the said Samuel, or the said Thornton, and without any consideration having been made, by which neglect, neither the legal nor equitable title has been aliena- ted ; it rests therefore with me, to declare my intentions concerning the premises : and these are, to give and bequeath the said land to whom- soever the said Thornton Washington, (who is also dead,) devised the same, or to his heirs for ever, if he died intestate, exonerating the estate of the said Thornton, equally with that of the said Samuel, from pay- ment of the purchase money, which, with interest, agreeably to the APPENDIX, 263 original contract with the said Pendleton, would amount to more than 1000/. And whereas, two other sons of my said deceased brother Samuel, namely George Steptoe Washington, and Lawrence Agustine Washington, were, by the decease of those to whose care they were committed, brought under my protection, and, in consequence, have oc casioned advances on my part for their education at college and other schools, and for their board, clothing, and other incidental expenses, to the amount of near 5000 dollars, over and above the sums furnished by their estate ; which sum it may be inconvenient for them or their father's estate to refund — I do for these reasons, acquit them and the said estate from the payment thereof; my intention being, that all ac- counts between them and me, and their father's estate and me, shall stand balanced. Item. — The balance due to me from the estate of Bartholomew Dandridge, deceased, (my wife's brother,) and which amounted, on the first day of October, 1795, to 425Z. (as will appear by an account rendered by his deceased son, John Dandridge, who was the acting executor of his father's will,) I release and acquit from the payment thereof. And the negroes, (then 33 in number,) formerly belonging to the said estate, who were taken in execution, sold, and purchased in on my account, in the year , and ever since have remained in the pos- session and to the use of Mary, widow of the said Barth. Dandridge^ with their increase, it is my will and desire, shall continue and be in her possession, without paying hire, or making compensation for the same, for the time past or to come, during her natural life ; at the ex- piration of which, I direct, that all of them who are 40 years old and upwards, shall receive their freedom ; all under that age and above 16, shall serve seven years, and no longer; and all under 16 years, shall serve until they are 25 years of age, and then be free. And to avoid disputes respecting the ages of any of these negroes, they are to be taken into the court of the county in which they reside, and the judgement thereof, in this relation, shall be final, and record thereof made, which may be adduced as evidence at any time hereafter, if disputes should arise concerning the same. And I further direct, that the heirs of the said Barth. Dandridge, shall equally share the benefits arising from the services of the said negroes, according to the tenour of this devise, upon the decease of their mother. Item. — If Charles Carter, who intermarried with my niece Betty Lewis, is not sufficiently secured in the title to the lots he had of me in the town of Fredericksburg, it is my will and desire, that my exec- utors shall make such conveyances of them as the law requires to render it perfect. Item. — To my nephew, William Augustine Washington, and his heirs, (if he should conceive them to be objects worth prosecuting,) a lot in the town of Manchester, (opposite to Richmond,) No 265, drawn on my sole account, and also the tenth of 1 or 200 acre lots, and two or three half-acre lots, in the city and vicinity of Richmond, drawn in partnership with nine others, all in the lottery of the deceased William Bird, are given ; as is also a lot which I purchased of John Hood, conveyed by William Willie and Samuel Gordon, trustees of the said John Hood, numbered 139, in the town of Edinburgh, in the county of Prince George, state of Virginia. 264 APPENDIX. Item. — To my nephew, Bushrod Washington, I give and bequeatJs all the papers in my possession which relate to my civil and military administration of the affairs of this country ; I leave to him also such of my private papers as are worth preserving; and, at the decease of my wife, and before, if she is not inclined to retain them, I give and bequeath my library of books and pamphlets of every kind. Item. — Having, sold lands which I possessed in the state of Pennsyl- vania, and part of a tract held in equal right with George Clinton, late governour of New York ; my share of land and interest in the Great Dismal Swamp, and a tract of land which I owned in the county of Gloucester — withholding the legal titles thereto, until the consideration money should be paid — and having moreover leased, and conditionally sold, (as will appear by the tenor of the said leases,) all my lands upon the Great Kenhawa, and a tract upon Difficult Run, in the county of Loudon, it is my will and direction, that whensoever the contracts are fully and respectively complied with, according to the spirit, true in- tent, and meaning thereof, on the part of the purchasers, their heirs or assigns, that then and in that case, conveyances are to be made agree- able to the terms of the said contracts, and the money arising there- from, when paid, to be vested in bank stock ; the dividends whereof, as of that also which is already vested therein, is to inure to my said wife during her life ; but the stock itself is to remain and be subject to the general distribution hereafter directed. Item. — To the Earl of Buchan, I recommit " the box made of the oak that sheltered the brave Sir William Wallace after the battle of Falkirk," presented to me by his lordship in terms too flattering for me to repeat, with a request " to pass it, on the event of ray decease, to the njjan in my country who should appear to merit it best, upon the same conditions that have induced him to send it to me." — Whether easy or not, to select the. man who might comport with his lordship's opinion in this respect, is not for me to say ; but conceiving that no disposition af this valuable curiosity can be more eligible than the re- commitment of it to his own cabinet, agreeably to the original design of the Goldsmith's Company of Edinburgh, who presented it to him, and, at his request, consented that it should be transferred to me — I do give and bequeath the same to his lordship ; and, in case of his de- cease, to his heir, with my grateful thanks for the distinguished hon- our of presenting it to me, and more especially for the favourable sen- timents with which he accompanied it. Item. — To my brother, Charles Washington, I give and bequeath the gold-headed cane left me by Dr. Franklin, in his will. I add nothing to it, because of the ample provision I have made for his issue. To the acquaintances, and friends of my juvenile years, Lawrence Washington and Robert Washington, of Chotanct, I give my other two gold-headed canes, having my arms engraved on them ; and to each, (as they will be useful where they live,) I leave one of the spyglasses, which constituted part of my equipage during the late war. To my compatriot in arms,. and old and intimate friend. Dr. Craik, I give my bureau, or, as the cabinet-makers call it, tambour-secretary, and the cir- cular chair, an appendage of my study. To Dr. David Stewart, I give my large shaving and dressing table, and my telescope. To the Rev- APPENDIX. 265 erend, now Bryan Lord Fairfax^ I give a Bible, in three large folio volumes, with notes, presented to me by the Rt. Rev. Thomas Wilson, bishop of Sodor and Man. To Gen. De La Fayette, I give a pair of finely wrought steel pistols, taken from the enemy in the revolutionary war. To my sisters-in-law, Hannah Washington and Mildred Wash, ington — to my friends, Eleanor Stuart, Hannah Washington, of Fair- field, and Elizabeth Washington, of Hayfield, I give each a mourning ring of the value of 100 dollars. These bequests are not made for the intrinsick value of them, but as mementos of my esteem and regard. To Tobias Lear, I give the use of the farm which he now holds, in virtue of a lease from me to him and his deceased wife, (for and during their natural lives,) free from rent during his life ; at the expiration of which it is to be disposed of as is hereinafter directed. To Sally B. Haynie, (a distant relation of mine,) I give and bequeath 300 dollars. To Sa. rah Green, daughter of the deceased Thomas Bishop, and to Ann Walker, daughter of John Alton, also deceased, I give each 100 dol- lars, in consideration of the attachment of their fathers to me, each of whom having lived nearly 40 years in my family. To each of my nephews, William Augustine Washington, George Levns, George Steptoe Washington, Bushrod Washington, and Samuel Washington, I give one of the swords, or cutteaux, of which I may die possessed ; and they are to choose in the order they are named. These swords are accompanied with an injunction, not to unsheath them for the purpose of shedding blood, except it be for self-defence, or in defence of their country and its rights ; and, in the latter case, to keep them unsheathed, and prefer falling with them in their hands, to the relin- quishment thereof. And now, having gone through these specifick devises, with expla- nations for the more correct understanding of the meaning and design of them, I proceed to the distribution of the more important parts of my estate, in manner following : — First. — To my nephew, Bushrod Washington, and his heirs, (partly in consideration of an intimation to his deceased father, while we were bachelors and he had kindly undertaken to superintend my estate during my military services in the former war between Great-Britain and France, that if I should fall therein, Mount Vernon, then less extensive in domain than at present, should become his property,) I give and bequeath all that part thereof which is comprehended within the following limits, viz. Beginning at the ford of Dogue Run, near my mill, and extending along the road, and bounded thereby, as it now goes, and ever has gone, since my recollection of it, to the ford of Little Hunting Creek, at the Gum Spring, until it comes to a knowl opposite to an old road which formerly passed through the lower field of Muddy-hole farm, at which, on the north side of the said road, are three red or Spanish oaks, marked as a corner, and a stone placed — thence by a line of trees to be marked rectangular, to the back line or outer boundary of the tract between Thomas Mason and myself — thence with that line easterly, (now double ditching, with a post and rail fence thereon,) to the run of Little Hunting Creek — thence with that run, which is the boundary between the lands of the late H. Peake and me, to the tide-water of the said creek — thence by that water 23* 266 APPENDIX. to Potomack River— thence with the River to the mouth of Dogue Creek, and thence with the said Dogue Creek to the place of beginning at the aforesaid ford : containing upwards of 4000 acres, be the same more or less, together with the mansion house and all other builuings and improvements thereon. Second. — In consideration of the consanguinity between them and my wife, being as nearly related to her as to myself, as on account of the affection I had for, and the obligation I was under to, their father, when living, who from his youth had attached himself to my person, and followed my fortunes through the vicissitudes of the late revolution, afterwards devoting his time to the superintendance of my private concerns for many years, whilst my publick employments rendered it impracticable for me to do it myself, thereby affording me essential services, and always performing them in a manner the most filial and respectful — For these reasons, I say, I give and bequeath to Gemge Fayette Washington, and Lawrence Augustine Washington, and their heirs, my estate east of Little Hunting Creek, lyi'ng on the river Poto- mack, including the farm of 360 acres, leased to Tobias Lear, as noticed before, and containing in the whole, by deed, two thousand and twenty-seven acres, be it more or less ; which said estate it is my will and desire should be equitably and advantageously divided between them, according to quantity, quality, and other circumstances, when the youngest shall have arrived at the age of 21 years, by three judi- cious and disinterested men ; one to be chosen by each of the brothers, and the third by these two. In the mean time, if the termination of my wife's interest therein should have ceased, tlie profits arising therefrom are to be applied for their joint uses and benefit. Third. — And whereas, it has always been my intention, since my expectation of having issue has ceased, to consider the grandchildren of my wife in the same light as I do my own relations, and to act a friendly part by them, more especially by the two whom we have raised from their earliest infancy — namely, Eleanor Park Custis, and George Washington Park Custis; and whereas, the former of these hath lately intermarried with Lawrence Lewis, a son of my deceased sister Betty Lewis, by which union the inducement to provide for them both has been increased ; wherefore I give and bequeath to the said Law- rence Leuris, and Eleanor Pai-kLewishis wife, and their heirs, the resi- due of my Mount Vernon estate, not already devised to my nephew, Bushrod Washington, comprehended within the following description, viz. All the land north of the road leading from the ford of Dogue Run to the Gum Spring, as described in the devise of the other part of the tract to Bushrod Washington, until it comes to the stone, and three red or Spanish oaks on the knowl ; thence with the rectangular line to the back line, (between Mr. Mason and me ;) thence with that line westerly along the new double ditch to Dogue Run, by the tumbling dam of my mill ; thence with the said run to the ford afore mentioned : to which I add all the land I possess west of the said Dogue Run and Dogue Creek, bounded easterly and southerly thereby ; together with the mill, distillery, and all other houses and improvements on the premises ; making together about 2,000 acres, be it more or less. Fourth. — Actuated by the principle already mentioned, I give and APPENDIX. 267 bequeath to George Washington Park Custis, the grandson of my wife, and my ward, and to his heirs, the tract I hold on Four Mile Run, in the vicinity of Alexandria, containing 1,200 acres, more or less, and my entire square, No. 21, in the city of Washington, Fifth. — All the rest and residue of my estate, real and personal, not disposed of in manner aforesaid, in whatsoever consisting, whereso- ever lying, and wheresoever found, (a schedule of which, as far as is recollected, with a reasonable estimate of its value, is hereunto an- nexed,) I desire may be sold by my executors, at such times, in such manner, and on such credits, (if an equal, valid, and satisfactory dis- tribution of the specifick property cannot be made without,) as in their judgement shall be most conducive to the interest of the parties concerned, and the moneys arising therefrom to be divided into twenty- three equal parts, and applied as follows, viz. To William Augustine Washington, Elizabeth Spotswood, Jane Thornton, and the heirs of Ann Ashton, son and daughters of my deceased brother Augustine Washington, I give and bequeath four parts, that is, one part to each of them : To Fielding Lewis, George Lewis, Robert Lewis, Howell Lewis, and Betty Carter, sons and daughter of my deceased sister Betty Lewis, I give and bequeath five other parts, one to each of them : To George Steptoe Washington, Lawrence A. Washington, Harriet Parks, and the heirs of Thornton Washington, sons and daughter of my deceased brother Samuel Washington, I give and bequeath the other four parts, one part to each of them : To Corbin Washington, and the heirs of Jane Washington, son and daughter of my diseased brother John A. Washington, I give and bequeath two parts, one part to each of them : To Sainuel Washington, Frances Ball, and Mildred Ham- mond, son and daughters of my brother Charles Washington, I give and bequeath three parts, one part to each of them ; and to Geo. F. Washington, Charles Aug. Washington, and Maria Washington, sons and daughter of my deceased nephew Geo. A. Washington, I give one other part, that is, to each a third of that part : To Eliz. Park Law, Martha Park Peter, and Eleanor Park Lewis, I give and bequeath three other parts, that is, a part to each of them : and to my nephews, Bushrod Washington and Law. Lewis, and to my ward, the grandson of my wife, I give and bequeath one other part, that is, a third there, of to each of them. And if it should so happen, that any of the persons whose names are here enumerated, (unknown to me,) should now be dead, or should die before me, that in either of these cases, the heirs of such deceased persons shall, notwithstanding, derive all the benefits of the bequest, in the same manner as if he or she was actually living at the time. And by way of advice, I recommend to my executors not to be precipitate in disposing of the landed property, (therein directed to be sold,) if from temporary causes the sale there- of should be dull ; experience having fully evinced, that the price of land, especially above the falls of the rivers and on the western waters, has been progressively rising, and cannot be long checked in its in- creasing value. And I particularly recommend it to such of the le- gatees, (under this clause of my will,) as can make it convenient, to take a share of my stock in the Potomack Company, in preference to the amount of what it might sell for — being thoroughly convinced my- 268 APPENDIX. self, that no uses to which the money can be applied, will be bo pro. ductive as the tolls arising from this navigation when in full operation, (and this from the nature of things, it must be ere long,) and more especially if that of the Shenandoah is added thereto. The family vault at Mount Vernon requiring repairs, and being im- properly situated besides, I desire that a new one of brick, and upon a larger scale, may be built at the foot of what is commonly called the Vineyard Enclosure, on the ground which is marked out — in which my remains, with those of my deceased relations, (now in the old vault,) and such others of my family as may choose to be entombed there, may be deposited. And it is my express desire, that my corpse may be interred in a private manner, without parade or funeral oration. Lastly. — I constitute and appoint my dearly beloved wife, Martha Washington, my nephews William Augustine Washington, Bushrod Washington, George Steptoe Washington, Samuel Washington, and Lawrence Lewis, and my ward George Washington Park Custis^ (when he shall have arrived at the age of twenty years,) executrix and executors of this my will and testament — in the construction of which, it will readily be perceived, that no professional character has been consulted, or has had any agency in the draught ; and, that although it has occupied many of my leisure hours to digest, and to throw It into its present form, it may, notwithstanding, appear crude and incorrect — but having endeavoured to be plain and explicit in all the devises, even at the expense of prolixity, perhaps of tautology, I hope and trust, that no disputes will arise concerning them ; but if, contrary to expectation, the case should be otherwise from the want of legal expression, or the usual technical terms, or because too much or too little has been said on any of the devises to be consonant with law, my will and direction expressly is, that all disputes, (if unhappily any should arise,) shall be decided by three impartial and intelligent men, known for their probity and good understanding — two to be chosen by the disputants, each having the choice of one, and the third by those two — which three men thus chosen shall, unfettered by law or legal constructions, declare the sense of the testator's intentions ; *nd such decision is, to all intents and purposes, to be as binding on the parties as if it had been given in the Supreme Court of the United States. In witness of all and each of the things herein contained, I have set my hand and seal, this ninth day of July, in the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety,* and of the independence of the United States the twenty-fourth. GEORGE WASHINGTON. * It appears the testator omitted the word nine. APPENDIX. 269 SCHEDULE Of Property comprehended in the foregoing Will, directed to he sold, and some of it conditionally is sold — with descriptive and explanatory notes thereto. IN VIRGINIA. Acres. Price. Dollars. Loudon Co. Difficult Run, 300 6,666a Loudon and Faquier, Ashby's Bent, 2,481 lOd. 24,810 !& Chattin's Run, 885 8 7,080 Berkley, S. fork of Bouliskin, 1,600 Head of Evan's m. 453 In Wormley's line, 183 2,236 20 44,720c Frederick, bought from Mercer, 571 20 ll,420i Hampshire, on Potoraack River, above B. 240 15 3,600e Gloucester, on North River » 400 about 3,600/ Nansemond, near Suffolk, > one third of 1,119 acres. 373 8 2,984^ Great Dismal Swamp, my dividend thereof. about 20,000A Ohio River, Round Bottomj 587 Little Kenhawa, 2,314 Sixteen miles lower down, 2,448 Opposite Big Bent, 4,395 Dollars. 9,744 10 97,440i GREAT KENHAWA. Near the North. West, 1.180 East side above, 7,276 Mouth of Cole River, 2,000 Opposite thereto, 2,950 ) Burning Spring, 125 ^ 3,075 200,000* MARYLAND. Charles County, 600 6d. 3,600/ Montgomery ditto. 519 12 6,228m PENNSYLVANIA. Great Meadows, 234 6 1,404» 270 APPENDIX. ' NEW YORK. Mohawk River, Acres. Price. about 1,000 6 NORTH-WEST TERRITORY. Dollars. 6,000o On Little Miami, Ditto, Ditto, 339 977 ],235 3,251 5 16,251j. KENTUCKY. Rough Creek, Ditto adjoining, 3,000 2.000 5,000 2 LOTS, VIZ. CITY OF WASHINGTON. Two near the capitol, square 634, cost 963 dollars, and with buildings, Nos. 5, 12, 13, and 14, the three last water lots on the Eastern Branch, in square 667, containing together 34,438 square feet, at 12 cents, ALEXANDRIA. Corner of Pitt and Prince streets, half an acre laid out into buildings, three or four of which are let on ground rent at three dollars per foot, WINCHESTER. A lot in the town, of half an acre, and another in the com- mons, of about six acres, supposed BATH OR WARM SPRINGS. Two well situated, and had buildings to the amount of 150Z. STOCK. UNITED STATES. Six per cent. 3,746 A 1 Q-ro ■> 2,500 10,000? 15,000r 4,132s 4,oooe 400tt 800w Ditto deferred. Three per cent. 1,873 2,946 POTOMACK COMPANY. Twenty.four shares, cost each lOOZ. sterling, JAMES RIVER COMPANY. Five shares, each cost 100 dollars, BANK OF COLUMBIA. One hundred and seventy shares, cost $40 each. 6,246w 10,666* 500y 6,800« APPENDIX. 271 Dollars. BANK OF ALEXANDRIA. 1,000 Besides twenty shares to the free school — 5. STOCK LIVING, viz. One covering horse, five carriage horses, four riding ditto, six brood mares, twenty working horses and mares, two covering jacks, and three young ones; ten she asses, 42 working mules, 15 younger ones, 329 head of horned cattle, 640 head of sheep, and a large stock of hogs, the precise number unknown. QU* My manager has estimated this live stock at lOOOl. but I shall set it down, in order to make a round sum, at 15,653 Aggregate amount, 530,000 NOTES. a. This tract for the size of it, is valuable, more for its situation than the quality of its soil, though that is good for farming ; with a considerable proportion of ground that might very easily be improved into meadow. It lies on the great road from the city of Washington, Alexandria, and Georgetown, to Leesburgh and Winchester, at Diffi. cult Bridge, nineteen miles from Alexandria, less from the city and Georgetown, and not more than three from Matildaville, at the great falls of Potomack. There is a valuble seat on the premises, and the whole is conditionally sold for the sum annexed in the schedule. b. What the selling prices of lands in the vicinity of these two tracta are, I know not ; but compared with those above the ridge, and others below it, the value annexed will appear moderate , a less one would not obtain them from me. c. The surrounding land, not superiour in soil, situation, or properties of any sort, sells currently at from twenty to thirty dollars an acre. The lowest price is affixed to these. d. The observations made in the last note, apply equally to this tract, being in the vicinity of them, and of similar quality, although it lies in another county. e. This tract, though small, is extremely valuable. It lies on Poto- mack River, about twelve miles above the town of Bath, (or Warm Springs,) and is in the shape of a horseslioe, the river running almost around it. Two hundred acres of it are rich low grounds, with a great abundance of the largest and finest walnut trees, which, with the pro. duce of the soil, might, (by means of the improved navigation of the Potomack,) be brought to a shipping port with more ease, and at a smaller expense, than that which is transported thirty miles only by land. /. This tract is of second rate Gloucester low grounds. It has no improvements thereon, but lies on navigable water, abounding in fish and oysters. It was received in payment of a debt, (carrying interest,) and valued in the year 1789, by an impartial gentleman, at 8001. N. B. It has lately been sold, and there is due thereon, a balance equal to what is annexed in the schedule. 272 APPENDIX. g. These 373 acres are the third part of the undivided purchases made by the deceased Fielding Lewis, Thos. Walker, and myself, on full conviction that they would become valuable. The land lies on the road from Suffolk to Norfolk, touches, (if I am not mistaken,) some part of the navigable water of Nansemond river. The rich Dismal Swamp is capable of great improvement ; and, from its situation, must become extremely valuable. h. This is an imdivided interest which I held in the great Dismal Swamp Company, containing about 4000 acres, with my part of the plantation and stock thereon, belonging to the company in the said swamp. i. These several tracts of land are of the first quality on the Ohio River, in the parts where they are situated, being almost, if not alto- gether, river bottoms. The smallest of these tracts is actually sold at ten dollars an acre, but the consideration therefor not received. The rest are equally valuable, and will sell as high, especially that which lies just below the Little Kenhawa ; and is opposite to a thick settle- ment on the west side of the river. The four tracts have an aggregate breadth upon the river of sixteen miles, and are bounded there by that distance. Ic. These tracts are situated upon the great Kenhawa river, and the first four are bounded thereby for more than 40 miles. It is ac- knowledged by all who have seen them, (and of the tract containing 10,990 acres, which I have been on myself, I can assert,) that there is no richer or more valuable land in all that region. They are con. ditionally sold for the sum mentioned in the schedule, that is 200,000 dollars, and if the terms of that sale are not complied with, they will command considerable more. The tract, of which the 125 acres is a moiety, was taken up by General Andrew Lewis and myself, for, and on account ,of a bituminous spring which it contains, of so inflammable a nature as to burn as freely as spirits and is nearly as difficult to extinguish. I. I am but little acquainted with this land, although I have once been on it. It was received, (many years since,) in discharge of a debt due to me from Daniel Junifer Adams, at the value annexed thereto^ and must be worth more. It is very level — lies near the river Potomack. m. This tract lies about 30 miles above the city of Washington, not far from Kitoctan. It is good farming land, and by those who are well acquainted with it, I am informed that it would sell at twelve or fifteen dollars per acre. n. This land is valuable on account of its local situation and other properties. It affords an exceeding good stand on Braddock's road from Fort Cumberland to Pittsburgh ; and, besides a fertile soil, possesses a large quantity of natural meadow, fit for the scythe. It is distinguished by the appellation of the Great Meadows, where the first action with the French, in the year 1754, was fought. 0. This is the moiety of about 2000 acres which remains unsold, of 6,071 acres on the Mohawk River, (Montgomery county,) in a patent granted to Daniel Coxe, in the township of Coxborough and Carolina, as will appear by deed from Marinus Willet and wife, to George APPENDIX. 273 Clinton, (late governour of New York,) and myself. The latter sales have been at six dollars an acre, and what remains unsold will fetch that or more. p. Tic quality of these lands and their situation, may be known by the surveyor's ceitificates, which are filed alouj/ with the patents. They lie in the vicinity of Cincinnati ; one tract near the moutii of the Little Miami ; another seven, and the third ten miles up the same. I have been informed that they will readily command more than they are estimated at. q. For the description of those tracts in detail, see Gen. Spotswood's letters, filed with the other papers relating to them. Besides the general good quality of the land, there is a valuable bank of iron ore thereon, which, when the settlement becomes more populous, (and set- tl rs are moving that way very fast,) will be found very valuable, as the R^ugh Creek, a branch of Green River, affords ample water for furnaces and forges. LOTS, VIZ. CITY OF WASHINGTON. r. The two lots near the capitol, in square 634, cost me 963 dollars only; but in this price I was favoured, on condition that I should build two brick houses three stories high each : without this reduction the selling prices of these lots would have cost me about 1,350 dollars. These lots, with the buildings on them when completed, will stand me in 15,000 dollars at least. 8. Lots Nos. 5, 12, 13, and 14, on the Eastern branch are advan- tageously situated on the water ; and although many lots much less convenient have sold a great deal higher, I will rate these at 12 cents the square foot only. ALEXANDRIA. t. For this lot, though unimproved, I have refused 3,500 dollars. It has since been laid off into proper sized lots for building on, three or four of which are let on ground rent for ever, at three dollars a foot on the street ; and this price is af^ked for both fronts on Pitt and Prince streets. WINCHESTER. u. As neither the lot in the town or common have any improvements on them, it is not easy to fixX a price ; but as both are well situated, it is presumed the price annexed to them in the schedule is a reasonable valuation. BATH. V. The lots in Bath, (two adjoining,) cost me to the best of my recollection between 5i) and 60 pounds, 20 years ago; and the buildings thereon 15 J/, more. Wliether property there has increased or decreas- ed in its value, and in what condition the houses are, 1 am ignorant — but suppose they are not valued too high. STOCK. to. These are the sums which are actually funded, and though no more in the aggregate than 7,566 dollars, stand me in at least ten 24 274 APPENDIX. thousand pounds, Virginia money ; being the amount of bonded and other debts due to me, and discharged during the war, when money had depreciated in that rate— O" and was so settled by pubhek authority. X. The value annexed to these shares is what they actually cost me, and is the price affixed by law ; and although the present selling price is under par, my advice to the legatees, (for whose benefit they are intended, especially those who can afford to lie out of the money,) is, that each should take and hold one— there being a moral certainty of a great and increasing profit arising from them in the course of a few years. y. It is supposed that the shares in the James River Company must also be productive : but of this I can give no decided opinion, for want of more accurate information. z. These are the nominal prices of the shares in the banks of Alex- andria and Columbia ; the selling prices vary according to circumstan. ces ; but as the stock usually divides from eight to ten per cent, per annum, they must be worth the former, at least, so long as the banks are conceived to be secure, although circumstances may sometimes make them below it. i r* ♦! The value of the live stock depends more upon the quality than quantity of the different species of it ; and this again upon the demand and judgement, or fancy of purchasers. GEORGE WASHINGTON. Mount Vernon, July 9, 1799. FINIS. i^i^5 B9 u^ J* 4 o^ • 'c -i'°'n>i. V ^ \ 'W^s j'"\ '^w' '^^"x '-S - -^ov* -*\^^ "^^ ^0^ *!*> ^ ^^-^.^ L^ l/\;Wv''V^v - 'f^o^ : ,■^o, «> • v^\!iSkr.V .■«?^:k■i^.%. .«^\^;^-"^ ^o. o ,•!«?«. : O '^^^.^^ O HECKMAN BINDERY INC. JUN 89 N. MANCHESTER, <>' "*>.