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GEOEGE WASHINGTON. [G. Stuart. 
 
THE l^lh'E 
 
 OF 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 
 BY 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING, 
 
 FOUR VOLUMES CONDENSED IN ONE. 
 
 POPULAJl EDITION ILLUSTRATED. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 WM. L. ALLISON, PUBLISHER. 
 1889. 
 
WASHINGTCiiJlAlvA 
 
 Copyright 1S88, 
 
 BV 
 
 WM. L. ALLISON. 
 
 EXCHANGE 
 
 5 
 JUN 12 1944 
 
 Serial Record Divrsion 
 TiiiLi^fai7efCen^;iS3 
 
 Copy 
 
 \5 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The idea of writing a life of Washington entered at an early day 
 into the author's mind, and he had long looked forward to it as 
 the crowning effort of his literary career. It was especially pressed 
 upon his attention nearly thirty years ago while he was in Europe, 
 by a proposition of the late Mr. Archibald Constable, the eminent 
 publisher of Edinburgh, and he resolved to undertake it as soon 
 as he should return to the United States, and be within reach 
 of the necessary documents. Various circumstances occurred to 
 prevent him from carrying this resolution into prompt effect. It 
 remained, however, a cherished purpose of his heart, which he has 
 at length, though somewhat tardily, accomplished. He is con- 
 scious of his own short-comings and of the splendid achievements 
 of oratory of which the character of Washington has recently been 
 made the theme. Grateful, however, for the kindly disposition 
 which has greeted each successive volume, and with a profound 
 sense of the indulgence he has experienced from the public through 
 a long literary career, now extending through more than half a 
 century, he resigns his last volume to its fate, with a feeling of sat- 
 isfaction that he has at length reached the close of his task, and 
 with the comforting assurance that it has been with him a labor of 
 love, and as such has to a certain degree carried with it its own 
 reward. 
 SuNNYsiDE, April, iSsg, Washington Irving. ' 
 
 Publisher's Note. — This edition of Irving's Life of Wash- 
 ington has been very carefully prepared,— and nothing has been 
 excluded which bears directly upon the subject. It is undoubt- 
 edly the fullest and most graphically portrayed life of the Father 
 OF his Country ever written, and is at the same time a detailed 
 and deeply interesting History of the American Revolution. 
 The chief merit of this work is perhaps the prominence with which 
 it brings out in the character of Washington its strongest and 
 rarest ornaments: — its judicial serenity maintained amidst the fierce 
 
4 PREFA CE.—ILL USTRA TIONS. 
 
 conflicts of a Revolution ; the composure of the Areopagus carried 
 into the struggles of Thermopylae. 
 
 "Calm, but stern, like one whom no compassion could weaken, 
 
 Neither could doubt deter, nor violent impulses alter ; 
 
 Lord of his own resolves ; of his own heart absolute master." 
 
 SOUTHEY (of Washington) in his Vision of Judgme7it. 
 
 «'The sobriety, the self-command, the perfect soundness of 
 judgment, the perfect rectitude of intention — of these the history 
 of revolutions furnishes no parallel, or furnishes a parallel in 
 Washington alone." — Lord Macaulay, Essay on John Hamp- 
 
 PEN. 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF WASHINGTON, BY GILBERT STUART. . Frontispiece. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF WILLIAM PENN 50 
 
 SIGNING OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, BY 
 
 TRUMBULL ICO 
 
 PORTRAIT OF THOMAS JEFFERSON I20 
 
 PORTRAIT OF THE MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE I9O 
 
 PORTRAIT OF THE BARON STEUBEN 20O 
 
 PORTRAIT OF THOMAS PAINE * 25O 
 
 PORTRAIT OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 260 
 
 WASHINGTON PREPARING TO CROSS THE DELAWARE 280 
 
 WASHINGTON CROSSING THE DELAWARE, BY E. LENTZE. . . . 3OO 
 BADGE OF THE ORDER OF CINCINNATUS 5QO 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 GENEALOGY OF THE WASHINGTON FAMILY. 
 
 The Washington family is of an ancient English stock, the 
 genealogy of which has been traced up to the century immediately 
 succeeding the Conquest. At that time it was in possession of 
 landed estates and manorial privileges in the county of Durham, 
 such as were enjoyed only by those, or their descendants, who had 
 come over from Normandy with the Conqueror, or fought under 
 his standard. When William the Conqueror laid waste the whole 
 country north of the Humbei", in punishment of the insurrection of 
 the Northumbrians, he apportioned the estates among his followers, 
 and advanced Normans and other foreigners to the principal eccles- 
 iastical dignities. One of the most wealthy and important sees was 
 that of Durham. Hither had been transported the bones of St. 
 Cuthbert from their original shrine at Lindisfarne, when it was rav- 
 aged by the Danes. That saint, says Camden, was esteemed by 
 princes and gentry a titular saint against the Scots. His shrine, 
 therefore, had been held in peculiar reverence by the Saxons, and 
 the see of Durham endowed with extraordinary privileges. William 
 continued and increased those privileges. He needed a powerful 
 adherent on this frontier to keep the restless Northumbrians in 
 order, and check Scottish invasion; and no doubt considered an 
 enlightened ecclesiastic, appointed by the crown, a safer depositary 
 of such power than an hereditary noble. Having placed a noble 
 and learned native of Loraine in the diocese, therefore, he erected 
 it into a palatinate, over which the bishop, as Count Palatine, had 
 temporal, as well as spiritual jurisdiction. He built a strong castle 
 for his protection, and to serve as a barrier against the Northern 
 foe. He made him lord high-admiral of the sea and waters adjoin- 
 ing his palatinate, — lord warden of the marches, and conservator 
 of the league between England and Scotland. Thenceforth, we 
 are told, the prelates of Durham owned no earthly superior within 
 their diocese, but continued for centuries to exercise every right 
 attached to an independent sovereign. 
 
 The bishop, as Count Palatine, lived in almost royal state and 
 splendor. He had his lay chancellor, chamberlains, secretaries, 
 steward, treasurer, master of the horse, and a host of minor officers. 
 Still he was under feudal obligations. All landed property in those 
 
6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 warlike times, implied military service. Bishops and abbots,' 
 equally with great barons who held estates immediately of the crown » 
 were obhged, when required, to furnish the king with armed men 
 in proportion to their domains; but they had their feudatories under 
 them to aid them in this service. The princely prelate of Durham 
 had his barons and knights, who held estates of him on feudal 
 tenure, and were bound to serve him in peace and war. They sat 
 occasionally in his councils, gave martial splendor to his court, and 
 were obliged to have horse and weapon ready for service, for they 
 lived in a belligerent neighborhood, disturbed occasionally by civil 
 war, and often by Scottish foray. When the banner of St. Cuth- 
 bert, the royal standard of the province, was displayed, no armed 
 feudatory of the bishop could refuse to take the field. Some of 
 these prelates, in token of the warlike duties of their diocese, 
 engraved on their seals a knight on horseback armed at all points, 
 brandishing in one hand a sword, and holding forth in the other 
 the arms of the see. Among the knights who held estates in the 
 palatinate on these warlike conditions, was Wilham de Hertburn, 
 the progenitor of the Washingtons. His Norman name of William 
 would seem to point out his national descent; and the family long 
 continued to have Norman names of baptism. The surname of 
 De Hertburn was taken from a village on the palatinate which he 
 held of the bishop in knight's fee; probably the same now called 
 Hartburn on the banks of the Tees. It had become a custom 
 among the Norman families of rank about the time of the Conquest, 
 to take surnames from their castles or estates; it was not until some 
 time afterward that surnames became generally assumed by the 
 people. 
 
 The first actual mention we find of the family is in the Bolden 
 Book, a record of all the lands appertaining to the diocese in 1183. 
 In this it is stated that William de Hertburn had exchanged his 
 village of Hertburn for the manor and village of Wessyngton, like- 
 wise in the diocese; paying the bishop a quit-rent of four pounds, 
 and engaging to attend him with two greyhounds in grand hunts, 
 and to furnish a man at arms whenever military aid should be 
 required of the palatinate. The family changed its surname with 
 its estate, and thenceforward assumed that of De Wessyngton. 
 The condition of military service attached to its manor will be 
 found to have been often exacted, nor was the service in the grand 
 hunt an idle form. Hunting came next to war in those days, as 
 the occupation of the nobility and gentry. The clergy engaged in 
 it equally with the laity. The stipulations with the Seignior of 
 Wessyngton show how strictly the rights of the chase were defined. 
 All the game taken by him in going to the forest belonged to the 
 bishop; all taken on returning belonged to himself. The names 
 of Bondo de Wessyngton and William his son appear on charters 
 of land, granted in 1257 to religious houses. Soon after occurred 
 the wars of the barons, in which the throne of Henry HI. was 
 shaken by the De Mountforts. The chivalry of the palatinate ral- 
 lied under the royal standard. On the list of loyal knights who 
 fought for their sovereign in the disastrous battle of Lewes (1264), 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 7 
 
 in which the king was taken prisoner, we find the name of William 
 Weshington, of Weshington. 
 
 In the reign of Edward III. we find the De Wessyngtons still 
 mingling in chivalrous scenes. The name of Sir Stephen de 
 Wessyngton appears on a list of knights (noble chevahers) who 
 were to tilt at a tournament at Dunstable in 1334. He bore for his 
 device a golden rose on an azure field. He was soon called to 
 exercise his arms on a sterner field. In 1346, Edward and his son, 
 the Black Prince, being absent with the armies in France, king 
 David of Scotland invaded Northumberland with a powerful army, 
 Queen Philippa, who had remained in England as regent, imme- 
 diately took the field, calling the northern prelates and nobles to join 
 her standard. They all hastened to obey. Among the prelates was 
 Hatfield, the Bishop of Durham. The sacred banner of St. Cuth- 
 bert was again displayed, and the chivalry of the palatinate 
 assisted at the famous battle of Nevil's cross, near Durham, in 
 which the Scottish army was defeated and king David taken pris- 
 oner. Queen Philippa hastened with a victorious train to cross the 
 sea at Dover, and join king Edward in his camp before Calais. 
 The prelate of Durham accompanied her. His military train con- 
 sisted of three bannerets, forty-eight knights, one hundred and 
 sixty-four esquires, and eighty archers, on horseback. They all 
 arrived to witness the surrender of Calais (1346), on which occa- 
 sion queen Philippa distinguished herself by her noble interference 
 in saving the lives of its patriot citizens. Such were the warlike 
 and stately scenes in which the De Wessyngtons were called to 
 mingle by their feudal duties as knights of the palatinate. A few 
 years after the last event (1350), William at that time lord of the 
 manor of Wessyngton, had license to settle it and the village upon 
 himself, his wife, and " his own right heirs." He died in 1367, and 
 his son and heir, William, succeeded to the estate. The latter is 
 mentioned under the name of Sir William de Weschington as one 
 of the knights who sat in the privy council of the county during 
 the episcopate of John Fordham. During this time the whole force 
 of the palatinate was roused to pursue a foray of Scots, under Sir 
 William Douglas, who, having ravaged the country, were return- 
 ing laden with spoil. It was a fruit of the feud between the Doug- 
 lases and the Percys. The marauders were overtaken by Hotspur 
 Percy and then took place the battle of Otterbourne, in which 
 Percy was taken prisoner and Douglas slain. 
 
 For upward of two hundred years the De Wessyngtons had now 
 sat in the councils of the palatinate; had mingled with horse and 
 hound in the stately hunts of its prelates, and followed the banner 
 of St. Cuthbert to the field ; but Sir William, just mentioned, was 
 the last of the family that rendered this feudal service. He was 
 the last male of the line to which the inheritance of the manor, by 
 the license granted to his father, was confined. It passed away 
 from the De Wessyngtons, after his death, by the marriage of his 
 only daughter and heir, Dionisia, with Sir William Temple of Stud- 
 ley. By the year 1400 it had become the property of the Blayke- 
 stons. But though the name of De W'essyngton no longer 
 
8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 figured on the chivalrous roll of the palatinate, it continued for a 
 time to flourish in the cloisters. In the year 1416, John de 
 Wessyngton was elected prior of the Benedictine convent, attached 
 to the cathedral. The monks of this convent had been licensed 
 by Pope Gregory VII. to perform the solemn duties of the cathe- 
 dral in place of secular clergy, and William the Conqueror had 
 ordained that the priors of Durham should enjoy all the liberties, 
 dignities and honors of abbots ; should hold their lands and churches 
 in their own hands and free disposition, and have the abbot's seat on 
 the left side of the choir — thus taking rank of every one but the 
 bishop. In the course of three centuries and upward, which had 
 since elapsed, these honors and privileges had been subject to 
 reported dispute and encroachment, and the prior had nearly been 
 elbowed out of the abbot's chair by the arch-deacon. John de 
 Wessyngton was not a man to submit tamely to such infringements 
 of his rights. He forthwith set himself up as the champion of his 
 priory, and in a learned tract, de Juribus ct Posses sionibus 
 Ecclesice Dunelni, established the validity of the long controverted 
 claims, and fixed himself firmly in the abbot's chair. His success 
 in this controversy gained him much renown among his brethren 
 of the cowl, and in 1426 he presided at the general chapter of the 
 order of St. Benedict, held at Northampton. The stout prior of 
 Durham had other disputes with the bishop and the secular clergy 
 touching his ecclesiastical functions, in which he was equally vic- 
 torious, and several tracts remain in manuscript in the dean and 
 chapter's library ; weapons hung up in the church armory as 
 memorials of his polemical battles. Finally, after fighting divers 
 good fights for the honor of his priory, and filling the abbot's chair 
 for thirty years, he died, to use an ancient phrase, "in all the odor 
 of sanctity," in 1446, and was buried like a soldier on his battle- 
 field, at the door of the north aisle of his church, near to the altar 
 of St. Benedict. On his tombstone was an inscription in brass, 
 now unfortunately obliterated, which may have set forth the valiant 
 deeds of this Washington of the cloisters. By this time the primi- 
 tive stock of the De Wessyngtons had separated into divers 
 branches, holding estates in various parts of England; some dis- 
 tinguishing themselves in the learned professions, others receiving 
 knighthood for public services. Their names are to be found hon- 
 orably recorded in county histories, or engraved on monuments in 
 time-worn churches and cathedrals, those garnering places of Eng- 
 lish worthies. By degrees the seignorial sign of de disappeared 
 from before the family surname, which also varied from Wessyng- 
 ton to Wassington, Wasshington, and finally, to Washington. A 
 parish in the county of Durham bears the name as last written, and in 
 this probably the ancient manor of Wessyngton was situated. There 
 is another parish of the name in the county of Sussex. The branch 
 of the family to which our W^ashington immediately belongs sprang 
 from Laurence Washington, Esquire, of Gray's Inn, son of John 
 Washington, of Warton in Lancashire. This Laurence Washing- 
 ton was for some time mayor of Northampton, and on the dissolu- 
 tion of the priories by Henry VIII. he received, in 1538, a grant of 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. g 
 
 the manor of Sulgrave, in Northamptonshire, with other lands in 
 the vicinity, all confiscated property formerly belonging to the mon- 
 astery of St. Andrew's. Sulgrave remained in the family until 
 1620, and was commonly called " Washington's manor." One of 
 the direct descendants of the grantee of Sulgrave was Sir William 
 Washington, of Packington, in the county of Kent. He married a 
 sister of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, the unfortunate 
 favorite of Charles I. This may have attached the Sulgrave 
 Washingtons to the Stuart dynasty, to which they adhered loyally 
 and generously throughout all its vicissitudes. One of the family. 
 Lieutenant Colonel James Washington, took up arms in the cause 
 of king Charles, and lost his life at the seige of Pontefract castle. 
 Another of the Sulgrave line, Sir Henry Washington, son and heir 
 of Sir William, before mentioned, exhibited in the civil wars the 
 old chivalrous spirit of the knights of the palatinate. He served 
 under prince Rupert at the storming of Bristol, in 1643, and when 
 the assailants were beaten off at every point, he broke in with a 
 handful of infantry at a weak part of the wall, made room for the 
 horse to follow, and opened a path to victory. 
 
 We have little note of the Sulgrave branch of the family after 
 the death of Charles I. and the exile of his successor. England, 
 during the protectorate, became an uncomfortable residence to such 
 as had signalized themselves as adherents to the house of Stuart. 
 In 1655, an attempt at a general insurrection drew on them the 
 vengeance of Cromwell. Many of their party who had no share in 
 the conspiracy, yet sought refuge in other lands, where they might 
 live free from molestation. This may have been the case with two 
 brothers, John and Andrew Washington, great-grandsons of the 
 grantee of Sulgrave, and uncles of Sir Henry, the gallant defender 
 of Worcester. John had for some time resided at South Cave, in 
 the East Riding of Yorkshire ; but now emigrated with his brother 
 to Virginia ; which colony, from its allegiance to the exiled mon- 
 arch and the Anglican Church had become a favorite resort of the 
 Cavaliers. The brothers arrived in Virginia in 1657, and pur- 
 chased lands in Westmoreland County, on the northern neck, 
 between the Potomac and Rappahannock rivers. John married a 
 Miss Anne Pope, of the same county, and took up his residence on 
 Bridges Creek, near where it falls into the Potomac. He became 
 an extensive planter, and, in process of time, a magistrate and 
 member of the House of Burgesses. Having a spark of the old 
 military fire of the family, we find him, as Colonel Washington, 
 leading the Virginia forces, in cooperation with those of Maryland, 
 against a band of Seneca Indians, who were ravaging the settle- 
 ments along the Potomac. In honor of his public services and 
 private virtues the parish in which he resided was called after him, 
 and still bears the name of Washington. He hes buried in a vault 
 on Bridges Creek which, for generations, was the family place of 
 sepulture. The estate continued in the family. His grandson 
 Augustine, the father of our Washington, was born there in 1694. 
 He was twice married; first (April 20th, 171 5), to Jane, daughter 
 of Caleb Butler, Esq., of Westmoreland County, by whom he had 
 
IG LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 four children, of whom only two, Lawrence and Augustine, sur- 
 vived the years of childhood ; their mother died November 24th, 
 1728, and was buried in the family vault. On the 6th of March, 
 1730, he married in second nuptials, Mary, the daughter of Colonel 
 Ball, a young and beautiful girl, said to be the belle of the Northern 
 Neck. By her he had five sons, George, Samuel, John, Augustine, 
 and Charles ; and two daughters, Elizabeth, or Betty, as she was 
 commonly called, and Mildred, who died in infancy. George, the 
 eldest, the subject of this biography, was born on the 22d of Feb- 
 ruary (nth, O. S.), 1732, in the homestead on Bridges Creek. This 
 house commanded a view over many miles of the Potomac, and 
 the opposite shore of Maryland. It had probably been purchased 
 with the property, and was one of the primitive farm-houses of 
 Virginia. The roof was steep, and sloped down into low projecting 
 eaves. It had four rooms on the ground floor, and others in the 
 attic, and an immense chimney at each end. Not a vestige of it 
 remains. Two or three decayed fig trees, with shrubs and vines, 
 linger about the place, and here and there a flower grown wild 
 serves "to mark where a garden has been." Such at least, was 
 the case a few years since ; but these may have likewise passed 
 away. A stone (placed there by George W. P. Custis, Esq.) marks 
 the site of the house, and an inscription denotes its being the birth- 
 place of Washington. We have entered with some minuteness 
 into this genealogical detail ; tracing the family step by step through 
 the pages of historical documents for upward of six centuries ; and 
 we have been tempted to do so by the documentary proofs it gives 
 of the lineal and enduring worth of the race. We have shown 
 that, for many generations, and through a variety of eventful 
 scenes, it has maintained an equality of fortune and respectabihty, 
 and whenever brought to the test has acquitted itself with honor 
 and loyalty. Hereditary rank may be an illusion ; but hereditary 
 virtue gives a patent of innate nobleness beyond all the blazonry 
 of the Herald's College. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOME OF WASHINGTON'S BOYHOOD. 
 
 Not long after the birth of George, his father removed to an 
 
 estate in Stafford County, opposite Fredericksburg. The house was 
 similar in style to the one at Bridges Creek, and stood on a rising 
 ground overlooking a meadow which bordered the Rappahannock. 
 This was the home of George's boyhood; the meadow was his 
 play-ground, and the scene of his early athledc sports ; but this 
 home, like that in which he was born, has disappeared ; the site is 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. il 
 
 only to be traced by fragments of bricks, china, and earthenware. 
 In those days the means of instruction in Virginia were limited, and 
 it was the custom among the wealthy planters to send their sons to 
 England to complete their education. This was done by Augustine 
 Washington with his eldest son Lawrence, then about fifteen years 
 of age, and whom he no doubt considered the future head of the 
 family. George was yet in early childhood ; as his intellect dawned 
 he received the rudiments of education in the best establishment 
 for the purpose that the neighborhood afforded. It was what was 
 called, in popular parlance, an " old field school-house; " humble 
 enough in its pretensions, and kept by one of his father's tenants 
 named Hobby, who moreover was sexton of the parish. The 
 instruction doled out by him must have been of the simplest kind 
 — reading, writing, and ciphering, perhaps ; but George had the 
 benefit of mental and moral culture at home, from an excellent 
 father. Several traditional anecdotes have been given to the world, 
 somewhat prolix and trite, but illustrative of the familiar and prac- 
 tical manner in which Augustine Washington, in the daily inter- 
 course of domestic life, impressed the ductije mind of his child 
 with high maxims of religion and virtue, and imbued him with a 
 spirit of justice and generosity, and above all a scrupulous love of 
 truth. When George was about seven or eight years old his 
 brother Lawrence returned from England, a well-educated and 
 accomplished youth. There was a difference of fourteen years in 
 their ages, which may have been one cause of the strong attach- 
 ment which took place between them. Lawrence looked down 
 with a protecting eye upon the boy whose dawning intelligence and 
 perfect rectitude won his regard ; while George looked up to his 
 manly and cultivated brother as a model in mind and manners. 
 We call particular attention to this brotherly interchange of affec- 
 tion, from the influence it had on all the future career of the subject 
 of this memoir. Lawrence Washington had something of the old 
 military spirit of the family, and circumstances soon called it into 
 action. Spanish depredations on British commerce had recently 
 provoked reprisals. Admiral Vernon, commander-in-chief in the 
 West Indies, had accordingly captured Porto Bello, on the Isthmus 
 of Darien. The Spaniards were preparing to revenge the blow ; 
 the French were fitting out ships to aid them. Troops were em- 
 barked in England for another campaign in the West Indies ; a 
 regiment of four battalions was to be raised in the colonies and sent 
 to join them at Jamaica. There was a sudden outbreak of military 
 ardor in the province ; the sound of drum and fife was heard in 
 the villages with the parade of recruiting parties. Lawrence 
 Washington, now twenty-two years of age, caught the infection. 
 He obtained a captain's commission in the newly raised regiment, 
 and embarked with it for the West Indies in 1740. He served in 
 the joint expeditions of Admiral Vernon and General Wentworth, in 
 the land forces commanded by the latter, and acquired the friend- 
 ship and confidence of both of those officers. He was present at 
 the siege of Carthagena, when it was bombarded by the fleet, and 
 when the troops attempted to escalade the citadel. It was an in- 
 
12 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 effectual attack; the ships could not get near enough to throw their 
 shells into the town, and the scahng ladders proved too short. That 
 part of the attack, however, with which Lawrence was concerned, 
 distinguished itself by its bravery. The troops sustained unflinch- 
 ing a destructive fire for several hours, and at length retired with 
 honor, their small force having sustained a loss of about six hun- 
 dred in killed and wounded. We have here the secret of that 
 martial spirit so often cited of George in his boyish days. He had 
 seen his brother fitted out for the wars. He had heard by letter 
 and otherwise of the warlike scenes in which he was mingling. All 
 his amusements took a military turn. He made soldiers of his 
 schoolmates ; they had their mimic parades, reviews, and sham 
 fights ; a boy named William Bustle was sometimes his competitor, 
 but George was commander-in-chief of Hobby's school. 
 
 Lawrence Washington returned home in the autumn of 1742, the 
 campaigns in the West Indies being ended, and Admiral Vernon 
 and General Wentworth being recalled to England. It was the 
 intention of Lawrence to rejoin his regiment in that country, and 
 seek promotion in the army, but circumstances completely altered 
 his plans. He formed an attachment to Anne, the eldest daughter 
 of the Honorable William Fairfax, of Fairfax County ; his addresses 
 were well received, and they became engaged. Their nuptials 
 were delayed by the sudden and untimely death of his father, 
 which took place on the 12th of April, 1743, after a short but severe 
 attack of gout in the stomach, and when but forty-nine years of 
 age. George had been absent from home on a visit during his 
 father's illness, and just returned in time to receive a parting look 
 of affection. Augustine Washington left large possessions, distrib- 
 uted by will among his children. To Lawrence, the estate on the 
 banks of the Potomac, with other real property, and several shares 
 in iron works. To Augustine, the second son by the first marriage, 
 the old homestead and estate in Westmoreland. The children by 
 the second marriage were severally well provided for, and George, 
 when he became of age, was to have the house and lands on the 
 Rappahannock. In the month of July the marriage of Lawrence 
 with Miss Fairfax took place. He now gave up all thoughts of 
 foreign service, and settled himself on his estate on the banks of 
 the Potomac, to which he gave the name of Mount Vernon, in 
 honor of the admiral. Augustine took up his abode at the home- 
 stead on Bridges Creek, and married Anne, daughter and co-heiress 
 of William Aylett, Esquire, of W^estmoreland County. George, 
 now eleven years of age, and the other children of the second mar- 
 riage, had been left under the guardianship of their mother, to 
 whom was intrusted the proceeds of all their property until they 
 should severally come of age. She proved herself worthy of the 
 trust. Endowed with plain, direct good sense, thorough conscien- 
 tiousness, and prompt decision, she governed her family strictly, 
 but kindly, exacting deference while she inspired affection. George, 
 being her eldest son, was thought to be her favorite, yet she never 
 gave him undue preference, and the implicit deference exacted 
 from him in childhood continued to be habitually observed by him 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 13 
 
 to the day of her death. He inherited from her a high temper and 
 a spirit of command, but her early precepts and example taught 
 him to restrain and govern that temper, and to square his conduct 
 on the exact principles of equity and justice. Tradition gives an 
 interesting picture of the widow, with her little flock gathered round 
 her, as was her daily wont, reading to them lessons of religion and 
 morality out of some standard work. Her favorite volume was Sir 
 Matthew Hale's Contemplations, moral and divine. The admir- 
 able maxims therein contained, for outward action as well as self- 
 government, sank deep into the mind of George, and, doubtless, 
 had a great influence in forming his character. They certainly 
 were exemplified in his conduct throughout life. This mother's 
 manual, bearing his mother's name, Mary Washington, written 
 with her own hand, was ever preserved by him with filial care, and 
 may still be seen in the archives of Mount Vernon. A precious 
 document ! Let those who wish to know the moral foundation of 
 his character consult its pages. Having no longer the benefit of a 
 father's instructions at home, and the scope of tuition of Hobby, the 
 sexton, being too limited for the growing wants of his pupil, George 
 was now sent to reside with Augustine Washington, at Bridges 
 Creek, and enjoy the benefit of a superior school in that neighbor- 
 hood kept by a Mr. WilHams. His education, however, was plain 
 and practical. He never attempted the learned languages, nor 
 manifested any inclination for rhetoric or belles-lettres. His object, 
 or the object of his friends, seems to have been confined to fitting 
 him for ordinary business. His manuscript school books still exist, 
 and are models of neatness and accuracy. One of them, it is true, 
 a ciphering book, preserved in the library at Mount Vernon, has 
 some school-boy attempts at calligraphy : nondescript birds, exe- 
 cuted with a flourish of the pen, or _ profiles of faces, probably 
 intended for those of his schoolmates ; the rest are all grave and 
 business-like. Before he was thirteen years of age he had copied 
 into a volume forms for all kinds of mercantile and legal papers ; 
 bills of exchange, notes of hand, deeds, bonds, and the Hke. This 
 early self-tuition gave him throughout life a lawyer's skill in draft- 
 ing documents, and a merchant's exactness in keeping accounts; 
 so that all the concerns of his various estates ; his dealings with his 
 domestic steward and foreign agents ; his accounts with govern- 
 ment, and all his financial transactions are to this day to be seen 
 posted up in books, in his own handwriting, monuments of his 
 method and unwearied accuracy. He was a self-disciplinarian in 
 physical as well as mental matters, and practiced himself in all 
 kinds of athletic exercises, such as running, leaping, wrestling, 
 pitching quoits and tossing bars. His frame even in infancy had 
 been large and powerful, and he now excelled most of his play- 
 mates in contests of agility and strength. As a proof of his muscu- 
 lar power, a place is still pointed out at Fredericksburg, near the 
 lower ferry, where, when a boy, he flung a stone across the Rap- 
 pahannock. In horsemanship too he already excelled, and was 
 ready to back, and able to manage the most fiery steed. Tradi- 
 tional anecdotes remain of his achievements in this respect. Above 
 
,4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 all, his inherent probity and the principles of justice on which he 
 regulated all his conduct, even at this early period of life, were 
 soon appreciated by his schoolmates; he was referred to as an 
 umpire in their disputes, and his decisions were never reversed. 
 As he had formerly been military chieftain, he was now legislator 
 of the school ; thus displaying in boyhood a type of the future 
 man. 
 
 The attachment of Lawrence Washington to his brother George 
 seems to have acquired additional strength and tenderness on their 
 father's death ; he now took a truly paternal interest in his concerns, 
 and had him as frequently as possible a guest at Mount Vernon. 
 Lawrence had deservedly become a popular and leading personage 
 in the country. He was a member of the House of Burgesses, and 
 Adjutant General of the district, with the rank of major, and a 
 regular salary. A frequent sojourn with him brought George into 
 familiar intercourse with the family of his father-in-law, the Hon. 
 William Fairfax, who resided at a beautiful seat called Belvoir, a 
 few miles below Mount Vernon, and on the same woody ridge bor- 
 dering the Potomac. An intimacy with a family like this, in which 
 the frankness and simphcity of rural and colonial life were united 
 with European refinement, could not but have a beneficial effect in 
 moulding the character and manners of a somewhat homebred 
 schoolboy. It was probably his intercourse with them, and his 
 ambition to acquit himself well in their society, that set him upon 
 compiling a code of morals and manners which still exists in a manu- 
 script in his own handwriting, entitled " rules for behavior in com- 
 pany and conversation." It is extremely minute and circumstan- 
 tial. Some of the rules for personal deportment extend to such 
 trivial matters, and are so quaint and formal, as almost to provoke 
 a smile ; but in the main, a better manual of conduct could not be 
 put into the hands of a youth. The whole code evinces that rigid 
 propriety and self control to which he subjected himself, and by 
 which he brought all the impulses of a somewhat ardent temper 
 under conscientious government. Other influences were brought 
 to bear on George during his visit at Mount Vernon. His brother 
 Lawrence still retained some of his military inclinations, fostered 
 no doubt by his post of Adjutant General. William Fairfax had 
 been a soldier, and in many trying scenes. Some of Lawrence's 
 comrades of the provincial regiment, who had served with him in 
 the West Indies, were occasional visitors at Mount Vernon ; or a 
 ship of war, possibly one of Vernon's old fleet, would anchor in the 
 Potomac, and its officers be welcome guests at the tables of Law- 
 rence and his father-in-law. Thus military scenes on sea and shore 
 would become the topics of conversation. The capture of Porto 
 Bello ; the bombardment of Carthagena ; old stories of cruisings in 
 the East and West Indies, and campaigns against the pirates. We 
 can picture to ourselves George, a grave and earnest boy, with an 
 expanding intellect, and deep-seated passion for enterprise, listen- 
 ing to such conversations with a kindling spirit and a growing 
 desire for military hfe. In this way most probably was produced 
 that desire to enter the navy which he evinced when about fourteen 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 15 
 
 years of age. The opportunity for gratifying it appeared at hand. 
 Ships of war frequented the colonies, and at times, as we have 
 hinted, were anchored in the Potomac. The inclination was en- 
 couraged by Lawrence Washington and Mr. Fairfax. Lawrence 
 retained pleasant recollections of his cruisings in the fleet of Ad- 
 miral Vernon, and considered the naval service a popular path to 
 fame and fortune. George was at a suitable age to enter the navy. 
 The great difficulty was to procure the assent of his mother. She 
 was brought, however, to acquiesce; a midshipman's warrant was 
 obtained, and it is even said that the luggage of the youth was 
 actually on board of a man of war, anchored in the river just below 
 Mount Vernon. At the eleventh hour the mother's heart faltered. 
 This was her eldest born. A son, whose strong and steadfast 
 character promised to be a support to herself and a protection to her 
 other children. The thought of his being completely severed from 
 her and exposed to the hardships and perils of a boisterous pro- 
 fession overcame even her resolute mind, and at her urgent remon- 
 strances the nautical scheme was given up. To school, therefore, 
 George returned, and continued his studies for nearly two years 
 longer, devoting himself especially to mathematics, and accom- 
 phshing himself in those branches calculated to fit him either for 
 civil or military service. Among these, one of the most important 
 in the actual state of the country was land surveying. In this he 
 schooled himself thoroughly, using the highest processes of the 
 art; making surveys about the neighborhood, and keeping regular 
 field books, some of which we have examined, in which the 
 boundaries and measurements of the fields surveyed were carefully 
 entered, and diagrams made, with a neatness and exactness as if 
 the whole related to important land transactions instead of being 
 mere school exercises. Thus, in his earliest days, there was per- 
 severance and completeness in all his undertakings. Nothing was 
 left half done, or done in a hurried and slovenly manner. The 
 habit of mind thus cultivated continued throughout life ; so that 
 however complicated his tasks and overwhelming his cares, in the 
 arduous and hazardous situations in which he was often placed, he 
 found time to do everything, and to do it well. He had acquired the 
 magic of method, which of itself works wonders. In one of these 
 manuscript memorials of his practical studies and exercises, we 
 have come upon some documents singularly in contrast with all 
 that we have just cited, and, with his apparently unromantic 
 character. In a word, there are evidences in his own handwriting, 
 that, before he was fifteen years of age, he had conceived a passion 
 for some unknown beauty, so serious as to disturb his otherwise 
 well regulated mind, and to make him really unhappy. Why this 
 juvenile attachment was a source of unhappiness we have no 
 positive means of ascertaining. Perhaps the object of it may have 
 considered him a mere school-boy, and treated him as such, or his 
 own shyness may have been in his way, and his "rules for be- 
 havior and conversation " may as yet have sat awkwardly on him, 
 and rendered him formal and ungainly when he most sought to 
 please. Even in later years he was apt to be silent and embar- 
 
i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 rassed in female society. " He was a very bashful young man,'* 
 said an old lady, whom he used to visit when they were both in their 
 nonage. " I used often to wish that he would talk more." What- 
 ever may have been the reason, this early attachment seems to 
 have been a source of poignant discomfort to him. It clung to 
 him after he took a final leave of school in the autumn of 1747, 
 and went to reside with his brother Lawrence at Mount Vernon. 
 Here he continued his mathematical studies and his practice in 
 surveying, disturbed at times by recurrences of his unlucky passion. 
 Though by no means of a poetical temperament the waste pages 
 of his journal betray several attempts to pour forth his amorous 
 sorrows in verse. They are mere common-place rhymes, such as 
 lovers at his age are apt to write, in which he bewails his "poor 
 restless heart, wounded by Cupid's dart," and "bleeding for one 
 who remains pitiless of his griefs and woes." The tenor of some 
 of his verses induces us to beheve that he never told his love ; but, 
 as we have already surmised, was prevented by his bashfulness. 
 "Ah, woe is me, that I should love and conceal; 
 Long have I wished and never dare reveal." 
 
 It is difficult to reconcile one's self to the idea of the cool and 
 sedate Washington, the great champion of American liberty, a woe- 
 worn lover in his youthful days, "sighing hke a furnace," and 
 inditing plaintive verses about the groves of Mount Vernon. We 
 are glad of an opportunity, however, of penetrating to his native 
 feelings, and finding that under his studied decorum and reserve 
 he had a heart of flesh throbbing with the warm impulses of human 
 nature. 
 
 The merits of Washington were known and appreciated by the 
 Fairfax family. Though not quite sixteen years of age, he no 
 longer seemed a boy, nor was he treated as such. Tall, athletic, 
 and manly for his years, his early self-training, and the code of 
 conduct he had devised, gave a gravity and decision to his con- 
 duct; his frankness and modesty inspired cordial regard, and the 
 rnelancholy, of which he speaks, may have produced a softness in 
 his manner calculated to win favor in ladies' eyes. According to 
 his own account, the female society by which he was surrounded 
 had a soothing effect on that melancholy. To one whom he 
 addresses as his dear friend Robin, he writes : "My residence is at 
 present at his lordship's, where I might, was my heart disengaged, 
 pass my time very pleasantly, as there's a very agreeable young 
 lady fives in the same house (Col. George Fairfax's wife's sister); 
 but as that's only adding fuel to fire, it makes me the more uneasy, 
 for by often and unavoidably being in company with her, revives 
 my former passion for your Lowland Beauty ; whereas was I to five 
 more retired from young women, I might in some measure alleviate 
 my sorrows, by burying that chaste and troublesome passion in the 
 grave of obfivion," &c. The object of this early passion is not 
 positively known. Tradition states that the "lowland beauty" was 
 a Miss Grimes, of Westmoreland, afterward Mrs. Lee, and mother 
 of General Henry Lee, who figured in revolutionary history as Light 
 Horse Harry, and was always a favorite with Washington, prob- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 17 
 
 ably from the recollections of his early tenderness for the mother. 
 Whatever may have been the soothing effect of the female society 
 by which he was surrounded at Belvoir, the youth found a more 
 effectual remedy for his love melancholy in the company of Lord 
 Fairfax. His lordship was a stanch fox-hunter, and kept horses 
 and hounds in the English style. The hunting season had arrived. 
 The neighborhood abounded with sport; but fox-hunting in Vir- 
 ginia required bold and skillful horsemanship. He found Wash- 
 ington as bold as himself in the saddle, and as eager to follow the 
 hounds. He forthwith took him into peculiar favor, made him his 
 hunting companion; and it was probably under the tuition of this 
 hard-riding old nobleman that the youth imbibed that fondness for 
 the chase for which he was afterward remarked. Their fox-hunting 
 intercourse was attended with more important results. His lord- 
 ship's possessions beyond the Blue Ridge had never been regularly 
 settled nor surveyed. Lawless intruders — squatters, as they were 
 called — were planting themselves along the finest streams and in 
 the richest valleys, and virtually taking possession of the country. 
 It was the anxious desire of Lord Fairfax to have these lands 
 examined, surveyed, and portioned out into lots, preparatory to 
 ejecting these interlopers or bringing them to reasonable terms. In 
 Washington, notwithstanding his youth, he beheld one fit for the 
 task — having noticed the exercises in surveying which he kept up 
 while at Mount Vernon, and the aptness and exactness with which 
 every process was executed. He was well calculated, too, by his 
 vigor and activity, his courage and hardihood, to cope with the 
 wild country to be surveyed, and with its still wilder inhabitants. 
 The proposition had only to be offered to Washington to be eagerly 
 accepted. It was the very kind of occupation for which he had 
 been diligently training himself. AH* the preparations required by 
 one of his simple habits were soon made, and in a very few days 
 he was ready for his first expedition into the wilderness. 
 
 It was in the month of March (1748), and just after he had com- 
 pleted his sixteenth year, that Washington set out on horseback on 
 this surveying expedition, in company with George William Fairfax. 
 Their route lay by Ashley's Gap, a pass through the Blue Ridge, 
 that beautiful hne of mountains which, as yet, almost formed the 
 western frontier of inhabited Virginia. Winter still lingered on the 
 tops of the mountains, whence melting snows sent down torrents, 
 which swelled the rivers and occasionally rendered them almost 
 impassable. Spring, however, was softening the lower parts of the 
 landscape and smiHng in the valleys. They entered the great val- 
 ley of Virginia, where it is about twenty-five miles wide; a lovely 
 and temperate region, diversified by gentle swells and slopes, 
 admirably adapted to cultivation. The Blue Ridge bounds it on 
 one side, the North Mountain, a ridge of the Alleganies, on the 
 other ; while through it flows that bright and abounding river, 
 which, on account of its surpassing beauty, was named by the 
 Indians the Shenandoah — that is to say, "the daughter of the 
 stars." The first station of the travelers was at a kind of lodge in 
 the wilderness, where the steward or land-bailiff of Lord Fairfax 
 
1 8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 resided, with such negroes as were required for farming purposes, 
 and which Washington terms " his lordship's quarter." It was 
 situated not far from the Shenandoah, and about twelve miles from 
 the site of the present town of Winchester. In a diary kept with 
 his usual minuteness, Washington speaks with dehght of the beauty 
 of the trees and the richness of the land in the neighborhood, and 
 of his riding through a noble grove of sugar maples on the banks 
 of the Shenandoah ; and at the present day, the magnificence of 
 the forests which still exist in this favored region justifies his eulo- 
 gium. He looked around, however, with an eye to the profitable 
 rather than the poetical. The gleam of poetry and romance, 
 inspired by his "lowland beauty," occurs no more. The real 
 business of life has commenced with him. His diary affords no 
 food for fancy. Everything is practical. The qualities of the soil, 
 the relative value of sites and locahties, are faithfully recorded. In 
 these his early habits of observation and his exercises in surveying 
 had already made him a proficient. His surveys commenced in 
 the lower part of the valley, some distance above the junction of 
 the Shenandoah with the Potomac, and extended for many miles 
 along the former river. Here and there partial "clearings" had 
 been made by squatters and hardy pioneers, and their rude hus- 
 bandry had produced abundant crops of grain, hemp, and tobacco. 
 Such was his first experience of life in the wilderness; he soon, 
 however, accustomed himself to " rough it," and adapt himself to 
 fare of all kinds, though he generally preferred a bivouac before a 
 fire, in the open air, to the accommodations of a woodman's cabin. 
 Proceeding down the valley to the banks of the Potomac, they 
 found that river so much swollen by the rain which had fallen 
 among the Alleganies, as to be unfordable. To while away the 
 time until it should subside, they made an excursion to examine 
 certain warm springs in a valley among the mountains, since called 
 the Berkeley Springs. There they camped out at night, under the 
 stars; the diary makes no complaint of their accommodations ; and 
 their camping-ground is now known as Bath, one of the favorite 
 watering-places of Virginia. One of the warm springs was subse- 
 quently appropriated by Lord Fairfax to his own use, and still 
 bears his name. After watching in vain for the river to subside, 
 they procured a canoe, on which they crossed to the Maryland 
 side ; swimming their horses. A weary day's ride of forty miles 
 up the left side of the river, in a continual rain, and over what 
 Washington pronounces the worst road ever trod by man or beast, 
 brought them to the house of a Colonel Cresap, opposite the south 
 branch of the Potomac, where they put up for the night. Here 
 they were detained three or four days by inclement weather. On 
 the second day they were surprised by the appearance of a war 
 party of thirty Indians, bearing a scalp as a trophy. A little liquor 
 procured the spectacle of a war-dance. A large space was cleared, 
 and a fire made in the centre, round which the warriors took their 
 seats. The principal orator made a speech, reciting their recent 
 exploits, and rousing them to triumph. One of the warriors started 
 up as if from sleep, and began a series of movements, half- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 19 
 
 grotesque, half-tragical ; the rest followed. For music, one savage 
 drummed on a deerskin, stretched over a pot half filled with water ; 
 another rattled a gourd, containing a few shot, and decorated with 
 a horse's tail. Their strange outcries, and uncouth forms and 
 garbs, seen by the glare of the fire, and their whoops and yells, 
 made them appear more like demons than human beings. All this 
 savage gambol was no novelty to Washington's companions, expe- 
 rienced in frontier Ufe ; but to the youth, fresh from school, it was 
 a strange spectacle, which he sat contemplating with deep interest, 
 and carefully noted down in his journal. It will be found that he 
 soon made himself acquainted with the savage character, and 
 became expert at dealing with these inhabitants of the wilderness. 
 From this encampment the party proceeded to the mouth of Pat- 
 terson's Creek, where they recrossed the river in a canoe, swim- 
 ming their horses as before. More than two weeks were now 
 passed by them in the wild mountainous region of Frederick 
 County, and about the south branch of the Potomac, surveying 
 lands and laying out lots, camped out the greater part of the time, 
 and subsisting on wild turkey and other game. Each one was his 
 own cook ; forked sticks served for spits, and chips of wood for 
 dishes. The weather was unsettled. At one time their tent was 
 blown down ; at another they were driven out of it by smoke ; now 
 they were drenched with rain, and now the straw on which Wash- 
 ington was sleeping caught fire, and he was awakened by a com- 
 panion just in time to escape a scorching. The only variety to 
 this camp life was a supper at the house of one Solomon Hedge, 
 Esquire, his majesty's justice of the peace, where there were no 
 forks at table, nor any knives, but such as the guests brought in 
 their pockets. During their surveys they were followed by num- 
 bers of people, some of them squatters, anxious, doubtless, to pro- 
 cure a cheap title to the land they had appropriated ; others, Ger- 
 man emigrants, with their wives and children, seeking a new home 
 in the wilderness. Most of the latter could not speak English ; but 
 when spoken to, answered in their native tongue. They appeared 
 to Washington ignorant as Indians, and uncouth, but " merry and 
 full of antic tricks." Such were the progenitors of the sturdy yeo- 
 manry now inhabiting those parts, many of whom still preserve 
 their strong German characteristics. " I have not slept above three 
 or four nights in a bed," writes Washington to one of his young 
 friends at home, "but after walking a good deal all the day I have 
 lain down before the fire upon a little straw or fodder, or a bear 
 skin, whichever was to be had, with man, wife, and children, like 
 dogs and cats ; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest the 
 fire." Having completed his surveys, he set forth from the south 
 branch of the Potomac on his return homeward ; crossed the 
 mountains to the great Cacapehon ; traversed the Shenandoah val- 
 ley; passed through the Blue Ridge, and on the 12th of April 
 found himself once more at Mount Vernon. For his service he 
 received, according to his note-book, a doubloon per day when 
 actively employed, and sometimes six pistoles. 
 
 The manner in which he had acquitted himself in this arduous 
 
20 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 expedition, and his accounts of the country surveyed, gave great 
 satisfaction to Lord Fairfax, who shortly afterward moved across 
 the Bhie Ridge, and took up his residence at the place heretofore 
 noted as his "quarters." Here he laid out a manor, containing 
 ten thousand acres of arable grazing lands, vast meadows, and 
 noble forests, and projected a spacious manor house, giving to the 
 place the name of Greenway Court. It was probably through the 
 influence of Lord Fairfax that Washington received the appoint- 
 ment of public surveyor. This conferred authority on his surveys, 
 and entitled them to be recorded in the county offices, and so 
 invariably correct have these surveys been found that, to this day, 
 wherever any of them stand on record, they receive imphcit credit. 
 For three years he continued in this occupation, which proved 
 extremely profitable, from the vast extent of country to be surveyed 
 and the very limited number of pubHc surveyors. It made him 
 acquainted, also, with the country, the nature of the soil in various 
 parts, and the value of localities; all which proved advantageous 
 to him in his purchases in after years. Many of the finest parts of 
 the Shenandoah valley are yet owned by members of the Wash- 
 ington family. While thus employed for months at a time survey- 
 ing the lands beyond the Blue Ridge, he was often an inmate of 
 Greenway Court. The projected manor house was never even 
 commenced. On a green knoll overshadowed by trees was a long 
 stone building one story in height, with dormer windows, two 
 wooden belfries, chimneys studded with swallow and martin coops, 
 and a roof sloping down in the old Virginia fashion, into low pro- 
 jecting eaves that formed a veranda the whole length of the house. 
 It was probably the house originally occupied by his steward or 
 land agent, but was now devoted to hospitable purposes, and the 
 reception of guests. As to his lordship, it was one of his many 
 eccentricities, that he never slept in the main edifice, but lodged 
 apart in a wooden house not much above twelve feet square. In a 
 small building was his office, where quitrents were given, deeds 
 drawn, and business transacted with his tenants. About the knoll 
 were out-houses for his numerous servants, black and white, with 
 stables for saddle-horses and hunters, and kennels for his hounds, 
 for his lordship retained his keen hunting propensides, and the 
 neighborhood abounded in game. Indians, half-breeds, and 
 leathern-clad woodsmen loitered about the place, and partook of 
 the abundance of the kitchen. His lordship's table was plentiful 
 but plain, and served in the English fashion. Here Washington 
 had full opportunity, in the proper seasons, of indulging his fond- 
 ness for field sports, and once more accompanying his lordship in 
 the chase. The conversation of Lord Fairfax, too, was full of 
 interest and instruction to an inexperienced youth, from his culti- 
 vated talents, his literary taste, and his past intercourse with the 
 best society of Europe, and its most distinguished authors. He 
 had brought books, too, with him into the wilderness, and from 
 Washington's diary we find that during his sojourn here he was 
 diligently reading the history of England, and the essays of the 
 Spectator. Such was Greenway Court in these its palmy days. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 21 
 
 We visited it recently and found it tottering to its fall, mouldering 
 in the midst of a magnificent country, where nature still flourishes 
 in full luxuriance and beauty. Three or four years were thus 
 passed by Washington, the greater part of the time beyond the Blue 
 Ridge, but occasionally with his brother Lawrence at Mount Ver- 
 non. His rugged and toilsome expeditions in the mountains, 
 among rude scenes and rough people, inured him to hardships, and 
 made him apt at expedients ; while his intercourse with his cultivated 
 brother, and with the various members of the Fairfax family, had 
 a happy effect in toning up his mind and manners, and counteract- 
 ing the careless and self-indulgent habitudes of the wilderness. 
 
 During the time of Washington's surveying campaigns among 
 the mountains, a grand colonizing scheme had been set on foot, 
 destined to enUst him in hardy enterprises, and in some degree to 
 shape the course of his future fortunes. The treaty of peace con- 
 cluded at Aix-la-Chapelle, which had put an end to the general war 
 of Europe, had left undefined the boundaries between the British 
 and French possessions in America ; a singular remissness, consider- 
 ing that they had long been a subject in dispute, and a cause of fre- 
 quent conflicts in the colonies. Immense regions were still claimed 
 by both nations, and each was now eager to forestall the other by 
 getting possession of them, and strengthening its claim by occu- 
 pancy. The most desirable of those regions lay west of the Alle- 
 gany Mountains, extending from the lakes to the Ohio, and 
 embracing the valley of that river and its tributary streams. An 
 immense territory, possessing a salubrious chmate, fertile soil, fine 
 hunting and fishing grounds, and facilities by lakes and rivers for 
 a vast internal commerce. The French claimed all this country 
 quite to the Allegany Mountains by the right of discovery. In 
 1673, Padre Marquette, with his companion, Joliet, of Quebec, 
 both subjects of the crown of France, had passed down the Mis- 
 sissippi in a canoe quite to the Arkansas, thereby, according to an 
 alleged maxim in the law of nations, establishing the right of their 
 sovereign, not merely to the river so discovered and its adjacent 
 lands, but to all the country drained by its tributary streams, of 
 which the Ohio was one ; a claim, the ramifications of which might 
 be spread, like the meshes of a web, over half the continent. To 
 this inimitable claim the English opposed a right derived, at second 
 hand, from a traditionary Indian conquest. A treaty, they said, 
 had been made at Lancaster, in 1744, between commissioners from 
 Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, and the Iroquois, or Six 
 Nations, whereby the latter, for four hundred pounds, gave up all 
 right and title to the land west of the Allegany Mountains, even to 
 the Mississippi, which land, according- to their traditions, had been 
 conquered by their forefathers. It is undoubtedly true that such 
 a treaty was made and such a pretended transfer of title did take 
 place, under the influence of spirituous hquors ; but it is equally 
 true that the Indians in question did not, at the time, possess an 
 acre of the land conveyed ; and that the tribes actually in posses- 
 sion scoffed at their pretensions, and claimed the country as their 
 own from time immemorial. Such were the shadowy foundations 
 
22 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of claims which the two nations were determined to maintam to 
 the uttermost, and which ripened into a series of wars, ending in a 
 loss to England of a great part of her American possessions, and 
 to France of the whole. As yet in the region in question there 
 was not a single white settlement. Mixed Iroquois tribes of Uela- 
 wares, Shawnees, and Mingoes, had migrated into it early in the 
 century from the f^rench settlements in Canada, and taken up their 
 abodes about the Ohio and its branches. The French pretended 
 to hold them under their protection ; but their allegiance, if ever 
 acknowledged, had been sapped of late years by the influx of fur 
 traders from Pennsylvania. These were often rough, lawless men ; 
 half Indians in dress and habits, prone to brawls, and sometimes 
 deadly in their feuds. They were generally in the employ of some 
 trader, who, at the head of his retainers and a string of pack- 
 horses, would make his way over mountains and through forests to 
 the banks of the Ohio, establish his headquarters in some Indian 
 town, and disperse his followers to traffic among the hamlets, hunt- 
 ing-camps and wigwams, exchanging blankets, gaudy colored 
 cloth, trinketry, powder, shot, and rum, for valuable furs and 
 peltry. In this way a lucrative trade with these western tribes was 
 springing up and becoming monopolized by the Pennsylvanians. 
 To secure a paticipation in this trade, and to gain a foothold in this 
 desirable region, became now the wish of some of the most intelli- 
 gent and enterprising men of Virginia and Maryland, among whom 
 were Lawrence and Augustine Washington. With these views 
 they projected a scheme, in connection with John Hanbury, a 
 wealthy London merchant, to obtain a grant of land from the 
 British government, for the purpose of forming settlements or 
 colonies beyond the AUeganies. Government readily counte- 
 nanced a scheme by w^hich French encroachments might be fore- 
 stalled, and prompt and quiet possession secured of the great Ohio 
 valley. An association was accordingly chartered in 1749, by the 
 name of "the Ohio Company," and five hundred thousand acres 
 of land was granted to it west of the AUeganies ; between the 
 Monongahela and Kanawha rivers ; though part of the land might 
 be taken up north of the Ohio, should it be deemed expedient. 
 The company vvere to pay no quitrent for ten years ; but they were 
 to select two-fifths of their lands immediately ; to settle one hun- 
 dred families upon them within seven years ; to build a fort at their 
 own expense, and maintain a sufficient garrison in it for defence 
 against the Indians. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Lee, president of the council of Virginia, took the 
 lead in the concerns of the company at the outset, and by many 
 has been considered its founder. On his death, which soon took 
 place, Lawrence Washington had the chief management. His 
 enlightened mind and liberal spirit shone forth in his earliest 
 arrangements. He wished to form the settlements with Germans 
 from Pennsylvania. Being dissenters, however, they would be 
 obliged, on iDccoming residents within the jurisdiction of Virginia, 
 to pay parish rates, and maintain a clergyman of the Church of 
 England, though they might not understand his language nor relish 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 23 
 
 his doctrines. Lawrence sought to have them exempted from this 
 double tax on purse and conscience. " It has ever been my opin- 
 ion," said he, "and I hope it ever will be, that restraints on con- 
 science are cruel in regard to those on whom they are imposed, 
 and injurious to the country imposing them. England, Holland, 
 and Prussia I may quote as examples, and much more Pennsylva- 
 nia, which has flourished under that delightful liberty, so as to 
 become the admiration of every man who considers the short time 
 it has been settled. *■)<•** This colony (Virginia) was 
 greatly settled in the latter part of Charles the First's time, and 
 during the usurpation by the zealous churchmen ; and that spirit, 
 which was then brought in, has ever since continued ; so that, 
 except a few Quakers, we have no dissenters. But what has been 
 the consequence ? We have increased by slow degrees, whilst our 
 neighboring colonies, whose natural advantages are greatly inferior 
 to ours, have become populous." Such were the enlightened 
 views of this brother of our Washington, to whom the latter owed 
 much of his moral and mental training. The company proceeded 
 to make preparations for their colonizing scheme. Goods were 
 imported from England suited to the Indian trade, or for presents 
 to the chiefs. Rewards were promised to veteran warriors and 
 hunters among the natives acquainted with the woods and moun- 
 tains, for the best route to the Ohio. Before the company had 
 received its charter, however, the French were in the field. 
 Early in 1749, the Marquis delaGahsonniere, Governor of Canada, 
 dispatched Celeron de Bienville, an intelligent officer, at the head 
 of three hundred men, to the banks of the Ohio, to make peace, as 
 he said, between the tribes that had become embroiled with each 
 other during the late war, and to renew the French possession of 
 the country. Celeron de Bienville distributed presents among the 
 Indians, made speeches reminding them of former friendship, and 
 warned them hot to trade with the English. He furthermore nailed 
 leaden plates to trees, and buried others in the earth, at the conflu- 
 ence of the Ohio and its tributaries, bearing inscriptions purporting 
 that all the lands on both sides of the rivers to their sources apper- 
 tained, as in foregone times, to the crown of France. The Indians 
 gazed at these mysterious plates with wondering eyes, but surmised 
 their purport. " They mean to steal our country from us," mur- 
 mured they ; and they determined to seek protection from the Eng- 
 lish. Celeron finding some traders from Pennsylvania trafficking 
 among the Indians, he summoned them to depart, and wrote by 
 them to James Hamilton, Governor of Pennsylvania, telHng him 
 the object of his errand to those parts, and his surprise at meeting 
 with English traders in a country to which England had no pre- 
 tensions ; intimating that, in future, any intruders of the kind would 
 be rigorously dealt with. His letter and a report of his proceed- 
 ings on the Ohio, roused the sohcitude of the governor and council 
 of Pennsylvania, for the protection of their Indian trade. Shortly 
 afterward, one Hugh Crawford, who had been trading with the 
 Miami tribes on the Wabash, brought a message from them, speak- 
 ing of the promises and threats with which the French were 
 
24 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 endeavoring to shake their faith, but assuring the governor that 
 their friendship for the Enghsh " would last while the sun and moon 
 ran round the world." This message was accompanied by three 
 strings of wampum. Governor Hamilton knew the value of Indian 
 friendship, and suggested to the assembly that it would be better to 
 clinch it with presents, and that as soon as possible. An envoy 
 accordingly was sent off early in October, who was supposed to 
 have great influence among the western tribes. This was one 
 George Croghan, a veteran trader, shrewd and sagacious, who had 
 been frequently to the Ohio country with pack-horses and followers, 
 and made himself popular among the Indians by dispensing pres- 
 ents with a lavish hand. He was accompanied by Andrew Mon- 
 tour, a Canadian of half Indian descent, who was to act as inter- 
 preter. They were provided with a small present for the emer- 
 gency ; but were to convoke a meeting of all the tribes at Logs- 
 town, on the Ohio, early in the ensuing spring, to receive an ample 
 present which would be provided by the assembly. 
 
 It was some time later in the same autumn ihat the Ohio company 
 brought their plans into operation, and dispatched an agent to 
 explore the lands upon the Ohio and its branches as low as the 
 Great Falls, take note of their fitness for cultivation, of the passes 
 of the mountains, the courses and bearings of the rivers, and the 
 strength and disposition of the native tribes. The man chosen for 
 the purpose was Christopher Gist, a hardy pioneer, experienced in 
 woodcraft and Indian life, who had his home on the banks of the 
 Yadkin, near the boundary line of Virginia and North Carolina. 
 He was allowed a woodsman or two for the service of the expedi- 
 tion. He set out on the 31st of October, from the banks of the 
 Potomac, by an Indian path which the hunters had pointed out, 
 leading from Wills' Creek, since called Fort Cumberland, to the 
 Ohio. Indian paths and buffalo tracks are the primitive highways 
 of the wilderness. Passing the Juniata, he crossed the ridges of 
 the Allegany, arrived at Shannopin, a Delaware village on the 
 south-east side of the Ohio, or rather of that upper branch of it, 
 now called the Allegany, swam his horses across that river, and 
 descending along its valley arrived at Logstown, an important 
 Indian village a little below the site of the present city of Pittsburg. 
 Here usually resided Tanacharisson, a Seneca chief of great note, 
 being head sachem of the mixed tribes which had migrated to the 
 Ohio and its branches. He was generally surnamed the half-king, 
 being subordinate to the Iroquois confederacy. The chief was 
 absent at this time, as were most of his people, it being the hunt- 
 ing season. George Croghan, the envoy from Pennsylvania, with 
 Montour his interpreter, had passed through Logstown a week pre- 
 viously, on his way to the Twightwees and other tribes, on the 
 Miami branch of the Ohio, Scarce any one was to be seen about 
 the village but some of Croghan' s rough people, whom he had left 
 behind — "reprobate Indian traders," as Gist terms them. They 
 regarded the latter with a jealous eye, suspecting him of some riv- 
 alship in trade, or designs on che Indian lands ; and intimated sig- 
 nificantly that "he would never go home safe." Gist knew the 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 25 
 
 meaning of such hints from men of this stamp in the lawless depths 
 of the wilderness ; but quieted their suspicions by letting them 
 know that he was on public business, and on good terms with their 
 great man, George Croghan, to whom he dispatched a letter. He 
 took his departure from Logstown, however, as soon as possible, 
 preferring, as he said, the solitude of the wilderness to such com- 
 pany. At Beaver Creek, a few miles below the village, he left the 
 river and struck into the interior of the present State of Ohio. 
 Here he overtook George Croghan at Muskingum, a town of 
 Wyandots and Mingoes. He had ordered all the traders in his 
 employ who were scattered among the Indian villages, to rally at 
 this town, where he had hoisted the English flag over his residence, 
 and over that of the sachem. This was in consequence of the 
 hostility of the French who had recently captured, in the neighbor- 
 hood, three white men in the employ of Frazier, an Indian trader, 
 and had carried them away prisoners to Canada. Gist was well 
 received by the people of Muskingum. They were indignant at 
 the French violation of their territories, and the capture of their 
 " English brothers." They had not forgotten the conduct of Cele- 
 ron de Bienville in the previous year, and the mysterious plates 
 which he had nailed against trees and sunk in the ground. " If 
 the French claim the rivers which run into the lakes," said they, 
 " those which run into the Ohio belong to us and to our brothers 
 the English." And they were anxious that Gist should settle 
 among them, and build a fort for their mutual defence. A council 
 of the nation was now held, in which Gist invited them, in the 
 name of the Governor of Virginia, to visit that province, where a 
 large present of goods awaited them, sent by their father, the great 
 king, over the water to his Ohio children. The invitation was gra- 
 ciously received, but no answer could be given until a grand coun- 
 cil of the western tribes had been held, which was to take place at 
 Logstown in the ensuing spring. Similar results attended visits 
 made by Gist and Croghan to the Delawares and the Shawnees at 
 their villages about the Scioto River ; all promised to be at the 
 gathering at Logstown. From the Shawnee village, near the 
 mouth of the Scioto, the two emissaries shaped their course north 
 two hundred miles, crossed the Great Moneami, or Miami River, 
 on a raft, swimming their horses ; and on the 17th of February 
 arrived at the Indian town of Piqua. These journeyings had car- 
 ried Gist about a wide extent of country beyond the Ohio. It was 
 rich and level, watered with streams and rivulets, and clad with 
 noble forests of hickory, walnut, ash, poplar, sugar-maple, and 
 wild cherry trees. Occasionally there were spacious plains covered 
 with wild rye ; natural meadows, with blue grass and clover ; and 
 buffaloes, thirty and forty at a time, grazing on them as in a culti- 
 vated pasture. Deer, elk, and wild turkeys abounded. "Noth- 
 ing is wanted but cultivation," said Gist, "to make this a most 
 delightful country." Cultivation has since proved the truth of his 
 words. The country thus described is the present State of Ohio. 
 Piqua, where Gist and Croghan had arrived, was the principal 
 town of the Twightwees or Miamis ; the most powerful confederacy 
 
26 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of the West, combining four tribes, and extending its influence 
 even beyond the Mississippi. A king or sachem of one or other 
 of the different tribes presided over the whole. The head chief at 
 present was the king of the Piankeshas. At this town Croghan 
 formed a treaty of alHance in the name of the Governor of Penn- 
 sylvania with two of the Miami tribes. And Gist was promised by 
 the king of the Piankeshas that the chiefs of the various tribes 
 would attend the meeting at Logstown to make a treaty with Vir- 
 ginia. In the height of these demonstrations of friendship, two 
 Ottawas entered the council-house, announcing themselves as 
 envoys from the French Governor of Canada to seek a renewal of 
 ancient alliance. They were received with all due ceremonial ; for 
 none are more ceremonious than the Indians. The French colors 
 were set up beside the English, and the ambassadors opened their 
 mission. " Your father, the French king," said they, " remember- 
 ing his children on the Ohio, has sent them these two kegs of milk," 
 here, with great solemnity, they deposited two kegs of brandy, — 
 "and this tobacco;" — here they deposited a roll ten pounds in 
 weight. " He has made a clean road for you to come and see him 
 and his officers ; and urges you to come, assuring you that all past 
 differences will be forgotten." The Piankesha chief replied in the 
 same figurative style. "It is true our Father has sent for us sev- 
 eral times, and has said the road was clear ; but I understand it is 
 not clear — it is foul and bloody, and the French have made it so. 
 We have cleared a road for our brothers, the English ; the French 
 have made it bad, and have taken some of our brothers prisoners. 
 This we consider as done to ourselves." So saying, he turned his 
 back upon the ambassadors, and stalked out of the council-house. 
 In the end the ambassadors were assured that the tribes of the 
 Ohio and the Six Nations were hand in hand with their brothers, 
 the English ; and should war ensue with the French, they were 
 ready to meet it. So the French colors were taken down ; the 
 "kegs of milk" and roll of tobacco were rejected; the grand 
 council broke up with a war-dance, and the ambassadors departed, 
 weeping and howling, and predicting ruin to the Miamis. 
 
 When Gist returned to the Shawnee town, near the mouth of the 
 Scioto, and reported to his Indian friends there the alhance he had 
 formed with the Miami confederacy, there was great feasting and 
 speech-making, and firing of guns. He had now happily accom- 
 plished the chief object of his mission — nothing remained but to 
 descend the Ohio to the Great Falls. This, however, he was cau- 
 tioned not to do. A large party of Indians, allies of the P'rench, 
 were hunting in that neighborhood, who might kill or capture him. 
 He crossed the river, attended only by a lad as a traveling com- 
 panion and aid, and proceeded cautiously down the east side until 
 within fifteen miles of the Falls. Here he came upon traps newly 
 set, and Indian footprints not a day old ; and heard the distant 
 report of guns. The story of Indian hunters then was true. He 
 was in a dangerous neighborhood. The savages might come 
 upon the tracks of his horses, or hear the bells put about their 
 necks, when turned loose in the wilderness to graze. Abandoning 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 27 
 
 all idea, therefore, of visiting the Falls, and contenting himself 
 with the information concerning them which he had received from 
 others, he shaped his course on the i8th of March for the Cuttawa, 
 or Kentucky River. From the top of a mountain in the vicinity 
 he had a view to the south-west as far as the eye could reach, over 
 a vast woodland country in the fresh garniture of spring, and wa- 
 tered by abundant streams ; but as yet only the hunting-ground of 
 savage tribes, and the scene of their sanguinary combats. In a 
 word, Kentucky lay spread out before him in all its wild magnifi- 
 cence ; long before it was beheld by Daniel Boone. For six weeks 
 was this hardy pioneer making his toilful way up the valley of the 
 Cuttawa, or Kentucky River, to the banks of the Blue Stone ; often 
 checked by precipices, and obliged to seek fords at the heads of 
 tributary streams ; and happy when he could find a buffalo path 
 broken through the tangled forests, or worn into the everlasting 
 rocks. On the 1st of May he climbed a rock sixty feet high, 
 crowning a lofty mountain, and had a distant view of the great 
 Kanawha, breaking its way through a vast sierra ; crossing that 
 river on a raft of his own construction, he had many more weary 
 days before him, before he reached his frontier abode on the banks 
 of the Yadkin. He arrived there in the latter part of May, but 
 there was no one to welcome the wanderer home. There had been 
 an Indian massacre in the neighborhood, and he found his house 
 silent and deserted. His heart sank within him, until an old man 
 whom he met near the place assured him his family were safe, hav- 
 ing fled for refuge to a settlement thirty-five miles off, on the banks 
 of the Roanoke. There he rejoined them on the following day. 
 
 While Gist had been making his painful way homeward, the two 
 Ottawa ambassadors had returned to Fort Sandusky, bringing word 
 to the French that their flag had been struck in the council-house 
 at Piqua, and their friendship rejected and their hostility defied by 
 the Miamis. They informed them also of the gathering of the 
 western tribes that was to take place at Logstown, to conclude a 
 treaty with the Virginians. It was a great object with the French 
 to prevent this treaty, and to spirit up the Ohio Indians against the 
 English. This they hoped to effect through the agency of one 
 Captain Joncaire, a veteran diplomatist of the wilderness, whose 
 character and story deserve a passing notice. He had been taken 
 prisoner when quite young by the Iroquois, and adopted into one 
 of their tribes. This was the making of his fortune. He had 
 grown up among them, acquired their language, adapted himself 
 to their habits, and was considered by them as one of themselves. 
 On returning to civilized life he became a prime instrument in the 
 hands of the Canadian government, for managing and cajoling the 
 Indians. Sometimes he was an ambassador to the Iroquois ; some- 
 times a mediator between the jarring tribes ; sometimes a leader 
 of their warriors when employed by the French. When in 1728 
 the Delawares and Shawnees migrated to the banks of the Ohio, 
 Joncaire was the agent who followed them, and prevailed on them 
 to consider themselves under French protection. When the 
 French wanted to get a commanding site for a post on the Iroquois 
 
28 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 lands, near Niagara, Joncaire was the man to manage it. He 
 craved a situation where he might put up a wigwam, and dwell 
 among his Iroquois brethren. It was granted of course, " for was 
 he not a son of the tribe — was he not one of themselves ? ' ' By 
 degrees his wigwam grew into an important trading post ; ulti- 
 mately it became Fort Niagara. Years and years had elapsed ; he 
 had grown gray in Indian diplomacy,- and was now sent once more 
 to maintain French sovereignty over the valley of the Ohio. He 
 appeared at Logstown accompained by another Frenchman, and 
 forty Iroquois warriors. He found an assemblage of the western 
 tribes, feasting and rejoicing, and firing of guns, for George Croghan 
 and Montour the interpreter were there, and had been distributing 
 presents on behalf of the Governor of Pennsylvania. Joncaire 
 was said to have the wit of a Frenchman, and the eloquence of an 
 Iroquois. He made an animated speech to the chiefs in their own 
 tongue, the gist of which was that their father Onontio (that is to 
 say, the Governor of Canada) desired his children of the Ohio to 
 turn away the Indian traders, and never to deal with them again on 
 pain of his displeasure ; so saying, he laid down a wampum belt 
 of uncommon size, by way of emphasis to his message. For once 
 his eloquence was of no avail ; a chief rose indignantly, shook his 
 finger in his face, and stamping on the ground, " This is our land," 
 said he. "What right has Onontio here? The English are our 
 brothers. They shall live among us as long as one of us is alive. 
 We will trade with them, and not with you," and so saying he 
 rejected the belt of wampum. Joncaire returned to an advanced 
 post recently established on the upper part of the river, whence he 
 wrote to the Governor of Pennsylvania: "The Marquis de la 
 Jonquiere, Governor of New France, having ordered me to watch 
 that the English make no treaty in the Ohio country, I have signi- 
 fied to the traders of your government to retire. You are not 
 ignorant that all these lands belong to the King of France, and 
 that tlie English have no right to trade in them." He concluded 
 by reiterating the threat made two years previously by Celeron de 
 Bienville against all intruding fur traders. In the mean time, in 
 the face of all these protests* and menaces, Mr. Gist, under sanc- 
 tion of the Virginia Legislature, proceeded in the same year to sur- 
 vey the lands within the grant of the Ohio company, lying on the 
 south side of the Ohio river, as far down as the great Kanawha. 
 An old Delaware sachem, meeting him while thus employed, pro- 
 pounded a somewhat puzzling question. "The French," said he, 
 " claim all the land on one side of the Ohio, the English claim all 
 the land on the other side— now where does the Indian's land lie ? " 
 Poor savages! Between their "fathers," the French, and their 
 "brothers," the EngHsh, they were in a fair way of being most 
 lovingly shared out of the whole country. 
 
 The French now prepared for hostile contingencies. They 
 launched an armed vessel of unusual size on Lake Ontario ; forti- 
 fied their trading house at Niagara ; strengthened their outposts, 
 and advanced others on the upper waters of the Ohio. A stir of 
 warlike preparation was likewise to be observed among the British 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 29 
 
 colonies. It was evident that the adverse claims to the disputed 
 territories, if pushed home, could only be settled by the stern arbi- 
 trament of the sword. In Virginia, especially, the war spirit was 
 manifest. The province was divided into military districts, each 
 having an adjutant general, with the rank of major, and the pay 
 of one hundred and fifty pounds a year, whose duty was to attend 
 to the organization and equipment of the militia. Such an appoint- 
 ment vi^as sought by Lawrence Washington for his brother George. 
 It shows what must have been the maturity of the mind of the lat- 
 ter, and the confidence inspired by his judicious conduct and apt- 
 ness for business, that the post should not only be sought for him, 
 but readily obtained ; though he was but^nincteen years of age. 
 He proved himself worthy of the appointment. He now set about 
 preparing himself, with his usual method and assiduity, for his new 
 duties. Virginia had among its floating population some military 
 relics of the late Spanish war. Among these was a certain Adju- 
 tant Muse, a Westmoreland volunteer, who had served with Law-- 
 rence Washington in the campaigns in the West Indies, and had 
 been with him in the attack on Carthagena. He now undertook 
 to instruct his brother George in the art of war ; lent him treatises 
 on military tactics ; put him through the manual exercise, and 
 gave him some idea of evolutions in the field. Another of Law- 
 rence's campaigning comrades was Jacob Van Braam, a Dutch- 
 man by birth ; a soldier of fortune of the Dalgetty order ; who had 
 been in the British army, but was now out of service, and, profes- 
 sing to be a complete master of fence, recruited his slender purse in 
 the time of military excitement, by giving the Virginian youth les- 
 sons in the sword exercise. Under the instructions of these veter- 
 ans Mount Vernon, from being a quiet rural retreat, where Wash- 
 ington, three years previously, had indited love ditties to his "low- 
 land beauty," was suddenly transformed into a school of arms, as 
 he practiced the manual exercise with Adjutant Muse, or took les- 
 sons on the broadsword from Van Braam. His martial studies, 
 however, were interrupted for a time by the critical state of his 
 brother's health. The constitution of Lawrence had always been 
 delicate, and he had been obliged repeatedly to travel for a change 
 of air. There were now pulmonary symptoms of a threatening 
 nature, and by advice of his physicians he determined to pass a 
 winter in the West Indies, taking with him his favorite brother 
 George as a companion. They accordingly sailed for Barbadoes 
 on the 28th of September, 1751. George kept a journal of the 
 voyage with log-book brevity ; recording the wind and weather, 
 but no events worth citation. They landed at Barbadoes on the 
 3d of November. The resident physician of the place gave a 
 favorable report of Lawrence's case, and held out hopes of a cure. 
 The brothers were delighted with the aspect of the country, as they 
 drove out in the cool of the evening, and beheld on all sides fields 
 of sugar cane, and Indian corn, and groves of tropical trees, in 
 full fruit and foliage. They took up their abode at a house pleas- 
 antly situated about a mile from town, commanding an extensive 
 prospect of sea and land, including Carlyle bay and its shipping, 
 
30 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and belonging to Captain Crofton, commander of James Fort. 
 Barbadoes had its theatre, at which Washington witnessed for the 
 first time a dramatic representation, a species of amusement of 
 which he afterward became fond. The brothers had scarcely been 
 a fortnight at the island when George was taken down by a severe 
 attack of small-pox. Skillful medical treatment, with the kind 
 attentions of friends, and especially of his brother, restored him to 
 health in about three weeks ; but his face always remained slightly 
 marked. After his recovery he made excursions about the island, 
 noticing its soil, productions, fortifications, public works and the 
 manners of its inhabitants. While admiring the productiveness of 
 the sugar plantations, Jie was shocked at the spendthrift habits of 
 the planters, and their utter want of management. " How won- 
 derful," writes he, "that such people should be in debt, and not be 
 able to indulge themselves in all the luxuries, as well as the neces- 
 saries of life. Yet so it happens. Estates are often alienated for 
 debts. How persons coming to estates of two, three, and four hun- 
 dred acres can want, is to me most wonderful." How much does 
 this wonder speak for his own scrupulous principle of always living 
 within compass. The residence at Barbadoes failed to have the 
 anticipated effect on the health of Lawrence, and he determined to 
 seek the sweet climate of Bermuda in the spring. He felt the 
 absence from his wife, and it was arranged that George should 
 return to Virginia, and bring her out to meet him at that island. 
 Accordingly, on the 22d of December, George set sail in the Indus- 
 try, bound to Virginia, where he arrived on the ist February, 1752, 
 after five weeks of stormy winter seafaring. Lawrence remained 
 through the winter at Barbadoes ; but the very mildness of the 
 climate relaxed and enervated him. He felt the want of the brac- 
 ing winter weather to which he had been accustomed. Even the 
 invariable beauty of the climate, the perpetual summer, wearied 
 the restless invalid. " This is the finest island of the West Indies," 
 said he ; " but I own no place can please me without a change of 
 seasons. We soon tire of the same prospect." A consolatory 
 truth for the inhabitants of more capricious climes. Still some of 
 the worst symptoms of his disorder had disappeared, and he 
 seemed to be slowly recovering ; but the nervous restlessness and 
 desire of change, often incidental to his malady, had taken hold 
 of him, and early in March he hastened to Bermuda. He had 
 come too soon. The keen air of early spring brought on an aggra- 
 vated return of his worst symptoms. " I have now got to my last 
 refuge," writes he to a friend, "where I must receive my final sen- 
 tence, which at present Dr. Forbes will not pronounce. He leaves 
 me, however, I think, like a criminal condemned, though not with- 
 out hopes of reprieve. But this I am to obtain by meritoriously 
 abstaining from flesh of every sort, all strong liquors, and by riding 
 as much as I can bear. These are the only terms on which I am 
 to hope for life." He was now afflicted w'ith painful indecision, 
 and his letters perplexed his family, leaving them uncertain as to 
 his movements, and at a loss how to act. At one time he talked 
 of remaining a year at Bermuda, and wrote to his wife to come out 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 3I 
 
 with George and rejoin him there ; but the very same letter shows 
 his irresolution and uncertainty, for he leaves her coming to the 
 decision of herself and friends. As to his own movements, he 
 says, "Six weeks will determine me what to resolve on. Forbes 
 advises the south of France, or else Barbadoes." The very next 
 letter, written shortly afterward in a moment of despondency, talks 
 of the possibihty of " hurrying home to his grave ! " The last was 
 no empty foreboding. He did indeed hasten back, and just reached 
 Mount Vernon in time to die under his own roof, surrounded by his 
 family and friends, and attended in his last moments by that brother 
 on whose manly affection his heart seemed to repose. His death 
 took place on the 26th July, 1752, when but thirty-four years of 
 age. He was a noble-spirited, pure-minded, accomplished gentle- 
 man ; honored by the public, and beloved by his friends. The 
 paternal care ever manifested by him for his youthful brother, 
 George, and the influence his own character and conduct must 
 have had upon him in his ductile years, should hnk their memories 
 together in history, and endear the name of Lawrence Washington 
 to every American. Lawrence left a wife and an infant daughter 
 to inherit his ample estates. In case his daughter should die with- 
 out issue, the estate of Mount Vernon, and other lands specified in 
 his will, were to be enjoyed by her mother during her lifetime, and 
 at her death to be inherited by his brother George. The latter was 
 appointed one of the executors of the will ; but such was the 
 implicit confidence reposed in his judgment and integrity, that, 
 although he was but twenty years of age, the management of the 
 affairs of the deceased was soon devolved upon him almost entirely. 
 It is needless to say that they were managed with consummate skill 
 and scrupulous fidehty. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WASHINGTON'S EXPEDITIONS IN THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 The meeting of the Ohio Tribes, Delawares, Shawnees, and 
 Mingoes, to form a treaty of alliance with Virginia, took place at 
 Logstown, at the appointed time. The chiefs of the Six Nations 
 declined to attend. "It is not our custom," said they proudly, 
 •' to meet to treat of affairs in the woods and weeds. If the Gov- 
 ernor of Virginia wants to speak with us, and dehver us a present 
 from our father (the King), we will meet him at Albany, where we 
 expect the Governor of New York will be present." At Logstown, 
 Colonel Fry and two other commissioners from Virginia, concluded 
 a treaty with the tribes above named ; by which the latter engaged 
 not to molest any English settlers south of the Ohio. Tanacharis- 
 son, the half-king, now advised that his brothers of Virginia should 
 build a strong house at the fork of the Monongahela, to resist the 
 
32 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 designs of the French. Mr. Gist was accordingly instructed to lay 
 out a town and build a fort at Chartier's Creek, on the east side of 
 the Ohio, a little below the site of the present city of Pittsburg. 
 He commenced a settlement, also, in a valley just beyond Lau- 
 rel Hill, not far from the Youghiogeny, and prevailed on eleven 
 families to join him. The Ohio Company, about the same time, 
 established a trading post, well stocked with English goods, at 
 "Wills' Creek (now the town of Cumberland). The Ohio tribes 
 were greatly incensed at the aggressions of the French, who were 
 erecting posts within their territories, and sent deputations to 
 remonstrate, but without effect. The half-king, as chief of tlie 
 western tribes, repaired to the French post on Lake Erie, where he 
 made his complaint in person. " Fathers," said he, " you are the 
 disturbers of this land by building towns, and taking the country 
 from us by fraud and force. We kindled a fire a long time ago at 
 Montreal, where we desired you to stay and not to come and 
 intrude upon our land. I now advise you to return to that place, 
 for this land is ours. If you had come in a peaceable manner, hke 
 our brothers the Enghsh, we should have traded with you as we do 
 with them ; but that you should come and build houses on our 
 land, and take it by force, is what we cannot submit to. Both you 
 and the English are white. We live in a country between you 
 both ; the land belongs to neither of you. The Great Being allotted 
 it to us as a residence. So, fathers, I desire you, as I have desired 
 our brothers the English, to withdraw, for I will keep you both at 
 arm's length. Whichever most regards this request, that side will 
 we stand by and consider friends. Our brothers the Enghsh have 
 heard this, and I now come to tell it to you, for I am not afraid to 
 order you off this land." " Child," rephed the French command- 
 ant, " you talk foolishly. You say this land belongs to you ; there 
 is not the black of my nail yours. It is my land, and I will have 
 it, let who W'ill stand up against me. I am not afraid of flies and 
 mosquitoes, for as such I consider the Indians. I tell you that 
 down the river I will go, and build upon it. If it were blocked up 
 I have forces sufficient to burst it open and trample down all who 
 oppose me. My force is as the sand upon the sea-shore. There- 
 fore here is your wampum ; I fling it at you." Tanacharisson 
 returned, wounded at heart, both by the language and the haughty 
 manner of the French commandant. He saw the ruin impending 
 over his race, but looked with hope and trust to the Enghsh as the 
 power least disposed to wrong the red man. 
 
 French influence was successful in other quarters. Some of the 
 Indians who had been friendly to the English showed signs of 
 alienation. Others menaced hostilities. There were reports that 
 the French were ascending the Mississippi from Louisiana. 
 France, it was said, intended to connect Louisiana and Canada by 
 a chain of military posts, and hem the English within the Alleghany 
 Mountains. The Ohio Company complained loudly to the Lieu- 
 tenant-Governor of Virginia, the Hon. Robert Dinwiddle, of the 
 hostile conduct of the French and their Indian allies. They found 
 in Dinwiddle a ready listener ; he was a stockholder in the com- 
 
I753-] THE FORK OF THE OHIO. 33 
 
 pany. A commissioner, Captain William Trent, was sent to expos- 
 tulate with the French commander on the Ohio for his aggressions 
 on the territory of his Britannic majesty ; he bore presents also of 
 guns, powder, shot, and clothing for the friendly Indians. Trent 
 was not a man of the true spirit for a mission to the frontier. He 
 stopped a short time at Logstown, though the French were one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles further up the river, and directed his course to 
 Piqua, the great town of the Twightwees, where Gist and Croghan 
 had been so well received by the Miamis, and the French flag 
 struck in the council house. All now was reversed. The place 
 had been attacked by the French and Indians ; the Miamis 
 defeated with great loss ; the English traders taken prisoners ; the 
 Piankesha chief, who had so proudly turned his back upon the 
 Ottawa ambassadors, had been sacrificed by the hostile savages, 
 and the French flag hoisted in triumph on the ruins of the town. 
 The whole aspect of affairs was so threatening on the frontier, that 
 Trent lost heart, and returned home without accomplishing his 
 errand. 
 
 Governor Dinwiddie now looked round for a person more fitted 
 to fulfill a mission which required physical strength and moral 
 energy ; a courage to cope with savages, and a sagacity to nego- 
 tiate with white men. Washington was pointed out as possessed 
 of those requisites. It is true he was not yet twenty-two years of 
 age, but pubhc confidence in his judgment and abilities had been 
 manifested a second time, by renewing his appointment of adjutant- 
 general, and assigning him the northern division. He was 
 acquainted too with the matters in litigation, having been in the 
 bosom councils of his deceased brother. His woodland experience 
 fitted him for an expedition through the wilderness ; and his great 
 discretion and self-command for a negotiation with wily command- 
 ers and fickle savages. He was accordingly chosen for the expe- 
 (Jition. By his letter of instructions he was directed to repair to 
 Logstown, and hold a communication with Tanacharisson, Monac- 
 atoocha, alias Scarooyadi, the next in command, and the other 
 sachems of the mixed tribes friendly to the English ; to inform 
 them of the purport of his errand, and request an escort to the 
 head-quaiters of the French commander. To that commander he 
 was to deliver his credentials, and the letter of Governor Dinwid- 
 die, and demand an answer in the name of his Britannic majesty ; 
 but not to wait for it beyond a week. On receiving it, he was to 
 request a sufficient escort to protect him on his return. He was, 
 moreover, to acquaint himself with the numbers and force of the 
 French stationed on the Ohio and its vicinity ; their capability of 
 being reinforced from Canada ; the forts they had erected ; where 
 situated, how garrisoned ; the object of their advancing into those 
 parts, and how they were likely to be supported. Washington set 
 off from Williamsburg on the 30th of October (1753), the veiy day 
 on which he received his credentials. At Fredericksburg he 
 engaged his old " master offence," Jacob Van Braam, to accom- 
 pany him as interpreter ; though it would appear from subsequent 
 circumstances, that the veteran swordsman was but indifferently 
 
34 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 versed either in French or Enghsh. Having provided himself at 
 Alexandria with necessaries for the journey, he proceeded to Win- 
 chester, then on the frontier, where he procured horses, tents, and 
 other traveling equipments, and then pushed on by a road newly 
 opened to Wills' Creek (town of Cumberland), where he arrived 
 on the 14th of November. Here he met with Mr. Gist, the intrepid 
 pioneer, who had explored the Ohio in the employ of the company, 
 and whom he engaged to accompany and pilot him in the present 
 expedition. He secured the services also of one John Davidson as 
 Indian interpreter, and of four frontiersmen, two of whom were 
 Indian traders. With this little band, and his swordsman and 
 interpreter, Jacob Van Braam, he set forth on the 15th of Novem- 
 ber, through a wild country, rendered almost impassable by recent 
 storms of rain and snow. At the mouth of Turtle Creek, on the 
 Monongahela, he found John Frazier, the Indian trader, some of 
 whose people, as heretofore stated, had been sent off prisoners to 
 Canada. Frazier himself had recently been ejected by the French 
 from the Indian village of Venango, where he had a gunsmith's 
 establishment. According to his account the French general who 
 had commanded on this frontier was dead, and the greater part of 
 the forces were retired into winter quarters. As the rivers were all 
 swollen so that the horses had to swim them, Washington sent all 
 the baggage down the Monongahela in a canoe under care of two 
 of the men, who had orders to meet him at the confluence of that 
 river with the Allegany, where their united waters form the Ohio.- 
 "As I got down before the canoe," writes he in his journal, "I 
 spent some time in viewing the rivers, and the land at the Fork, 
 which I think extremely well situated for a fort, as it has the abso- 
 lute command of both rivers. The land at the point is twenty or 
 twenty-five feet above the common surface of the water, and a 
 considerable bottom of flat, well timbered land all around it, very 
 convenient for building. The rivers are each a quarter of a mile or 
 more across, and run here very nearly at right angles ; Allegany 
 bearing north-east, and Monongahela south-east. The former of 
 these two is a very rapid and swift-running water, the other deep 
 and still, without any perceptible fall." The Ohio Company had 
 intended to build a fort about two miles from this place, on the 
 south-east side of the river ; but Washington gave the fork the 
 decided preference. French engineers of experience proved the 
 accuracy of his military eye, by subsequently choosing it for the 
 site of Fort Duquesne, noted in frontier history. In this neighbor- 
 hood lived Shingiss, the king or chief sachem of the Delawares. 
 Washington visited him at his village, to invite him to the council 
 at Logstown. He was one of the greatest warriors of his tribe, and 
 subsequently took up the hatchet at various times against the Eng- 
 lish, though now he seemed favorably disposed, and readily 
 accepted the invitation. They arrived at Logstown after sunset on 
 the 24th of November. The half-king was absent at his hunting 
 lodge on Beaver Creek, about fifteen miles distant ; but Washing- 
 ton had runners sent out to invite him and all the other chiefs to a 
 grand talk on the following day. In the morning four French 
 
I7S3-] INDIAN COUNCILS. 35 
 
 deserters came into the village. They had deserted from a com- 
 pany of one hundred men, sent up from New Orleans with eight 
 canoes laden with provisions. Washington drew from them an 
 account of the French force at New Orleans, and of the forts along 
 the Mississippi, and at the mouth of the Wabash, by which they 
 kept up a communication with the lakes ; all which he carefully 
 noted down. The deserters were on their way to Philadelphia, 
 conducted by a Pennsylvania trader. About three o'clock the 
 half-king arrived. Washington had a private conversation with 
 him in his tent, through Davidson the interpreter. He found him 
 intelligent, patriotic and proudly tenacious of his territorial rights. 
 We have already cited from Washington's papers, the account 
 given by this chief in this conversation, of his interview with the 
 late French commander. He stated, moreover, that the French 
 had built two forts, differing in size, but on the same model, a plan 
 of which he gave, of his own drawing. The largest was on Lake 
 Erie, the other on French Creek, fifteen miles apart, with a wagon 
 road between them. The nearest and levelest way to them was 
 now impassable, lying through large and miry savannas; they 
 would have, therefore, to go by Venango, and it would take five or 
 six sleeps (or days) of good travehng to reach the nearest fort. On 
 the following morning at nine o'clock, the chiefs assembled at the 
 council house ; where Washington, according to his instructions, 
 informed them that he was sent by their brother, the Governor of 
 Virginia, to deliver to the French commandant a letter of great 
 importance, both to their brothers the English and to themselves ; 
 and that he was to ask their advice and assistance, and some of 
 their young men to accompany and provide for him on the way, 
 and be his safeguard against the "French Indians" who had 
 taken up the hatchet. He concluded by presenting the indispens- 
 able document in Indian diplomacy a string of wampum. The 
 chiefs, according to etiquette, sat for some moments silent after he 
 had concluded, as if ruminating on what had been said, or to give 
 him time for further remark. The half-king then rose and spoke in 
 behalf of the tribes, assuring him that they considered the English 
 and themselves brothers, and one people ; and that they intended 
 to return the French the "speech-belts," or wampums, which the 
 latter had sent them. This, in Indian diplomacy, is a renunciation 
 of all friendly relations. An escort would be furnished to Wash- 
 ington composed of Mingoes, Shannoahs, and Delawares, in token 
 of the love and loyalty of those several tribes ; but three days 
 w^ould be required to prepare for the journey. Washington remon- 
 strated against such delay ; but was informed, that an affair of such 
 moment, where three speech-belts were to be given up, was not to 
 be entered into without due consideration. Besides, the young 
 men who were to form the escort were absent hunting, and the 
 half-king could not suffer the party to go without sufficient pro- 
 tection. His own French -speech belt, also, was at his hunting 
 lodge, whither he must go in quest of it. Moreover, the Shannoah 
 chiefs were yet absent and must be waited for. In short, Wash- 
 ington had his first lesson in Indian diplomacy, which for punc- 
 
36 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 tilio, ceremonial, and secret maneuvring, is equal at least to that 
 of civilized life. He soon found that to urge a more speedy de- 
 parture would be offensive to Indian dignity and decorum, so he 
 was fain to await the gathering together of the different chiefs with 
 their speech-belts. 
 
 In fact there was some reason for all this caution. Tidings had 
 reached the sachems that Captain Joncaire had called a meeting at 
 Venango, of the Mingoes, Delawares, and other tribes, and made 
 them a speech, informing them that the French, for the present, 
 had gone into winter quarters, but intended to descend the river in 
 great force, and fight the English in the spring. He had advised 
 them, therefore, to stand aloof, for should they interfere, the French 
 and English would join, cut them all off, and divide their land be- 
 tween them. AVith these rumors preying on their minds, the half- 
 king and three other chiefs Avaited on Washington in his tent in the 
 evening, and after representing that they had complied Avith all the 
 requisitions of the Governor of Virginia, endeavored to draw from 
 the youthful ambassador the true purport of his mission to the 
 French commandant. Washington had anticipated an inquiry of 
 the kind, knowing how natural it was that these poor people should 
 regard, with anxiety and distrust, every movement of two formid- 
 able powers thus pressing upon them from opposite sides, he man- 
 aged, however, to answer them in such a manner as to allay their 
 solicitude without transcending the bounds of diplomatic secrecy. 
 After a day or two more of delay and further consultations in the 
 council house, the chiefs determined that but three of their number 
 should accompany the mission, as a greater number might awaken 
 the suspicions of the French. Accordingly, on the 30th of November, 
 Washington set out for the French post, having his usual party 
 augmented by an Indian hunter, and being accompanied by the 
 half-king, an old Shannoah, sachem named Jeskakake, and an- 
 other chief, sometimes called Belt of Wampum, from being the 
 keeper of the speech-belts, but generally bearing the sounding ap- 
 pellation of White Thunder. 
 
 Although the distance to Venango, by the route taken, was not 
 above seventy miles, yet such was the inclemency of the weather 
 and the difficulty of traveling, that Washington and his party did 
 not arrive there until the 4th of December. The French colors 
 were flying at a house whence John Frazier, the English trader, 
 had been driven. Washington repaired thither, and inquired of 
 three French officers Avhom he saw there where the com- 
 mandant resided. One of them promptly replied that he " had the 
 command of the Ohio." It was, in fact, the redoubtable Captain 
 Joncaire, the veteran intriguer of the frontier. On being apprised, 
 however, of the nature of Washington's errand, he informed him 
 that there was a general officer at the next fort, where he advised 
 him to apply for an answer to the letter of which he was the 
 bearer. 
 
 In the mean time, he invited Washington and his party to a supper 
 at head-quarters. It proved a jovial one, for Joncaire appears to 
 have been somewhat of a boon companion, and there is always 
 
I753-] FRONTIER REVELRVr yj 
 
 ready though rough hospitality in the wilderness. It is true, Wash- 
 ington, for so young a man, may not have had the most convivial 
 air, but there may have been a moist look of promise in the old 
 soldier Van Braam. 
 
 Joncaire and his brother officers pushed the bottle briskly. " The 
 wine," says Washington, " as they dosed themselves pretty plenti- 
 fully with it, soon banished the restraint which at first appeared in 
 their conversation, and gave a license to their tongues to reveal 
 their sentiments more freely. They told me that it was their abso- 
 lute design to take possession of the Ohio ; for that although they 
 were sensible the English could raise two men for their one, yet 
 they knew their motions were too slow and dilatory to prevent any 
 undertaking. They pretend to have an undoubted right to the 
 river from a discovery made by one La Salle sixty years ago, and 
 the rise of this expedition is to prevent our settling on the river or 
 the waters of it, as they heard of some families moving out in order 
 thereto." 
 
 Washington retained his sobriety and his composure throughout 
 all the rodomontade and bacchanalian outbreak of the mercurial 
 Frenchmen ; leaving the task of pledging them to his master of 
 fence, Van Braam, who was not a man to flinch from potations. 
 He took careful note, however, of all their revelations, and col- 
 lected a variety of information concerning the French forces ; how 
 and where they were distributed ; the situations and distances of 
 their forts, and their means and mode of obtaining supplies. If the 
 veteran diplomatist of the wilderness had intended this revel 
 for a snare, he was completely foiled by his youthful competitor. 
 
 On the following day there was no traveling on account of ex- 
 cessive rain. Joncaire, in the mean time, having discovered that 
 the half-king was with the mission, expressed his surprise that he 
 had not accompanied it to his quarters on the preceding day. 
 W^ashington, in truth, had feared to trust the sachem within the 
 reach of the politic Frenchman. Nothing would do now but Jon- 
 caire must have the sachems at head-quarters. Here his diplomacy 
 was triumphant. He received them wnth open arms. He was en- 
 raptured to see them. His Indian brothers ! How could they be 
 so near without coming to visit him ? He made them presents ; 
 but, above all, plied them so potently with liquor, that the poor 
 half-king, Jeskakake, and White Thunder forgot all about their 
 wrongs, their speeches, their speech-belts, and all the business they 
 had come upon ; paid no heed to the repeated cautions of their 
 English friends, and were soon in a complete state of frantic ex- 
 travagance or drunken oblivion. 
 
 The next day the half-king made his appearance at Washington's 
 tent, perfectly sober and very much crestfallen. He declared, how- 
 ever, that he still intended to make his speech to the French, and 
 offered to rehearse it on the spot ; but Washington advised him not 
 to waste his ammunition on inferior game hke Joncaire and his com- 
 rades, but to reserve it for the commandant. The sachem was not 
 to be persuaded. Here, he said, was the place of the council fire, 
 where they were accustomed to transact their business with the 
 
38 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 French ; and as to Joncaire, he had all the management of French 
 affairs with the Indians. 
 
 Washington was fain to attend the council fire and listen to the 
 speech. It was much the same in purport as tliat which he had 
 made to the French general, and he ended by offering to return the 
 French speech-belt ; but this Joncaire refused to receive, teUing 
 him to carry it to the commander at the fort. All that day and the 
 next was the party kept at Venango by the stratagems of Joncaire 
 and his emissaries to detain and seduce the sachems. It was not 
 until 12 o'clock on the 7th of December, that Washington was 
 able to extricate them out of their clutches and commence his 
 journey. A French commissary by the name of La Force, and 
 three soldiers, set off in company with him. La Force went as if 
 on ordinary business, but he proved one of the most active, dar- 
 ing, and mischief-making of those anomalous agents employed by 
 the French among the Indian tribes. It is probable that he was 
 at the bottom of many of the perplexities experienced by Washing- 
 ton at Venango, and now traveled with him for the prosecution of 
 his wiles. He will be found, hereafter, acting a more prominent 
 part, and uUimately reaping the fruit of his evil doings. 
 
 After four days of weary travel through snow and rain, and mire 
 and swamp, the party reached the fort. It was situated on a kind 
 of island on the west fork of French Creek, about fifteen miles 
 south of Lake Erie, and consisted of four houses, forming a hollow 
 square, defended by bastions made of palisades twelve feet high, 
 picketed, and pierced for cannon and small arms. Within the bas- 
 tions Vv^ere a guard-house, chapel, and other buildings, and outside 
 were stables, a smith's forge, and log-houses covered with bark, for 
 the soldiers. On the death of the late general, the fort had re- 
 mained in charge of one Captain Reparti until within a week past, 
 when the Chevalier Legardeur de St. Pierre had arrived, and taken 
 command. 
 
 The reception of Washington at the fort was very different from 
 the unceremonious one experienced at the outpost of Joncaire and 
 his convivial messmates. When he presented himself at the gate, 
 accompanied by his interpreter, Van Braam, he was met by the 
 of^cer second in command and conducted in due military form to 
 his superior ; an ancient and silver-haired chevalier of the military 
 order of St. Louis, courteous but ceremonious ; mingling the polish 
 of the French gentleman of the old school with the precision of the 
 soldier. 
 
 Having announced his errand through his interpreter. Van 
 Braam, Washington offered his credentials and the letter of Gov- 
 ernor Dinwiddie, and was disposed to proceed at once to business 
 with the prompt frankness of a young man unhackneyed in dip- 
 lomacy. The chevalier, however, politely requested him to retain 
 the documents in his possession until his predecessor. Captain 
 Reparti, should arrive, who was hourly expected from the next 
 post. 
 
 At two o'clock the captain arrived. The letter and its accom- 
 panying documents were then offered again, and received in due 
 
w 
 
 1753.] TRANSA CTIONS A T THE FOR T. 39 
 
 form, and the chevalier and his officers retired with them into a 
 private apartment, where the captain, who understood a httle 
 English, officiated as translator. The translation being finished, 
 Washington was requested to walk in and bring his translator Van 
 Braam, with him, to peruse and correct it, which he did. 
 
 In this letter, Didwiddie complained of the intrusion of French 
 forces into the Ohio country, erecting forts and making settlements 
 in the western parts of the colony of Virginia, so notoriously known 
 to be the property of the crown of Great Britain. He inquired by 
 whose authority and instructions the French Commander-general 
 had marched this force from Canada, and made this invasion ; in- 
 timating that his own action would be regulated by the answer he 
 should receive, and the tenor of the commission with which he was 
 honored. At the same time he required of the commandant his 
 peaceable departure, and that he would forbear to prosecute a pur- 
 pose " so interruptive of the harmony and good understanding which 
 his majesty was desirous to continue and cultivate with the most 
 cathohc king." 
 
 The latter part of the letter related to the youthful envoy. " I 
 persuade myself you will receive and entertain Major Washington 
 with the candor and politeness natural to your nation, and it will 
 give me the greatest satisfaction if you can return him with an an- 
 swer suitable to my wishes for a long and lasting peace be- 
 tween us." 
 
 The two following days were consumed in councils of the cheva- 
 lier and his officers over the letter and the necessary reply. Wash- 
 ington occupied himself in the mean time in observing and taking 
 notes of the plan, dimensions, and strength of the fort, and of 
 everything about it. He gave orders to his people, also, to take an 
 exact account of the canoes in readiness, and others in the process 
 of construction for the conveyance of troops down the river in the 
 ensuing spring. 
 
 As the weather continued stormy, with much snow, and the horses 
 were daily losing strength, he sent them down, unladen, to Ven- 
 ango, to await his return by water. In the mean time, he discov- 
 ered that busy intrigues were going on to induce the half-king and 
 the other sachems to abandon him, and renounce all friendship 
 with the English. Upon learning this, he urged the chiefs to de- 
 liver up their " speech-belts " immediately, as they had promised, 
 thereby shaking off all dependence upon the French. They ac- 
 cordingly pressed for an audience that very evening. A private 
 one was at length granted them by the commander, in presence of 
 one or two of his officers. The half-king reported the result of it 
 to Washington. The venerable but astute chevalier cautiously 
 evaded the acceptance of the proffered wampum ; made many 
 professions of love and friendship, and said he wished to live in 
 peace and trade amicably with the tribes of the Ohio, in proof of 
 which he would send down some goods immediately for them to 
 Logstown. 
 
 As Washington understood, privately, that an officer was to ac- 
 company the man employed to convey these goods, he suspected 
 
40 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 that the real design was to arrest and bring off all straggling Eng- 
 lish traders they might meet with. What strengthened this opinion 
 was a frank avowal which had been made to him bj'^ the chevalier, 
 that he had orders to capture every British subject who should at- 
 tempt to trade upon the Oliio or its waters. 
 
 Captain Reparti, also, in reply to his inquiry as to what had been 
 done with two Pennsylvania traders, who had been taken with all 
 their goods, informed him that they had been sent to Canada, but 
 had since returned home. He had stated, furthermore, that 
 during the time he held command, a white boy had been carried 
 captive past the fort by a party of Indians, who had with them, also, 
 two or three white men's scalps. 
 
 All these circumstances showed him the mischief that was brew- 
 ing in these parts, and the treachery and violence that pervaded the 
 frontier, and made him the more sohcitous to accomphsh his mis- 
 sion successfully, and conduct his little band in safety out of a wily 
 neighborhood. 
 
 On the evening of the 14th, the Chevalier de St. Pien-e delivered 
 to Washington his sealed reply to the letter of Governor Dinwiddle. 
 The purport of previous conversations with the chevalier, and the 
 whole complexion of affairs on the frontier, left no doubt of the 
 nature of that reply. 
 
 The business of his mission being accomplished, Washington 
 prepared on the i 5th to return by water to Venango ; but a secret 
 influence was at work which retarded every movement. "The 
 commandant," writes he, "ordered a plentiful store of hquor and 
 provisions to be put on board our canoes, and appeared to be ex- 
 tremely complaisant, though he was exerting every artifice which 
 he could invent to set our Indians at variance with us, to prevent 
 their going until cTfter our departure ; presents, rewards, and every- 
 thing which could be suggested by him or his officers. I cannot 
 say that ever in my life I suffered so much anxiety as I did in this 
 affair. I saw that every stratagem which the most fruitful brain 
 could invent was practiced to win the half-king to their interests, 
 and that leaving him there was giving them the opportunity they 
 aimed at. I went to the half-king, and pressed him in the strong- 
 est terms to go ; he told me that the commandant would not dis- 
 charge him until the morning. I then went to the commandant 
 and desired him to do their business, and complained to him of 
 ill treatment ; for, keeping them, as they were a part of my com- 
 pany, was detaining me. This he promised not to do, but to for- 
 ward my journey as much as he could. He protested he did not 
 keep them, but was ignorant of the cause of their stay ; though I 
 soon found it out. He had promised them a present of guns if 
 they would wait until the morning. As I was very much pressed 
 by the Indians to wait this day for them, I consented, on the promise 
 that nothing should hinder them in the morning." 
 
 The next morning (i6th) the French, in fulfillment of their 
 promise, had to give the present of guns. They then endeavored 
 to detain the sachems with liquor, which at any other time might 
 have prevailed, but W^ashington reminded the half-king that his 
 
I753-] RETURN FROM VENANGO. 41 
 
 royal word was pledged to depart, and urged it upon him so closely 
 that exerting unwonted resolution and self-denial, he turned his 
 back upon the liquor and embarked. 
 
 It was rough and laborious navigation. P'rench Creek was 
 swollen and turbulent, and full of floating ice. The frail canoes 
 were several times in danger of being staved to pieces against 
 rocks. Often the voyagers had to leap out and remain in the water 
 half an hour at a time, drawing the canoes over shoals, and at one 
 place to carry them a quarter of a mile across a neck of land, the 
 river being completely dammed by ice. It was not until the 22d 
 that they reached Venango. 
 
 Here Washington was obliged, most unwillingly, to part company 
 with the sachems. White Thunder had hurt himself and was ill 
 and unable to walk, and the others determined to remain at Ven- 
 ango for a day or two and convey him down the river in a canoe. 
 There was danger that the smooth-tongued and convivial Joncaire 
 would avail himself of the interval to ply the poor monarchs of the 
 woods with flattery and liquor. Washington endeavored to put the 
 worthy half-king on his guard, knowing that he had once before 
 shown himself but little proof against the seductions of the 
 bottle. The sachem, however, desired him not to be concerned ; 
 he knew the French too well for anything to engage him in their 
 favor ; nothing should shake his faith to his English brothers ; and 
 it will be found that in these assurances he was sincere. 
 
 On the 25th of December, Washington and his little party set out 
 by land from Venango on their route homeward. They had a long 
 winter's journey before them, through a wilderness beset with 
 dangers and difficulties. The pack-horses, laden with tents, bag- 
 gage, and provisions, were completely jaded ; it was feared they 
 would give out. Washington dismounted, gave up his saddle-horse 
 to aid in transporting the baggage, and requested his companions 
 to do the same. None but the drivers remained in the saddle. 
 He now equipped himself in an Indian hunting-dress, and with Van 
 Braam, Gist, and John Davidson, the Indian interpreter, proceeded 
 on foot. The cold increased. There was deep snow that froze as 
 it fell. The horses grew less and less capable of traveling. For 
 three days they toiled on slowly and wearily. Washington was 
 impatient to accomplish his journey, and make his report to the 
 governor ; he determined, therefore, to hasten some distance in 
 advance of the party, and then strike for the Fork of the Ohio by 
 the nearest course directly through the woods. He accordingly 
 put the cavalcade under the command of Van Braam, and fur- 
 nished him with money for expenses ; then disencumbering himself 
 of all superfluous clothing, buckling himself up in a watch- 
 coat, strapping his pack on his shoulders, containing his papers 
 and provisions, and taking gun in hand, he left the horses 
 to flounder on, and struck manfully ahead, accompanied only 
 by Mr. Gist, who had equipped himself in like manner. At 
 night they lit a fire, and " camped" by it in the woods. At two 
 o'clock in the morning they were again on foot, and pressed for- 
 ward until they struck the south-east fork of Beaver Creek, at a 
 
42 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 place bearing the sinister name of Murdering Town ; probably the 
 scene of some Indian massacre. 
 
 Here Washington, in planning his route, had intended to leave 
 the regular path, and strike through the woods for Shannopins 
 Town, two or three miles abo^'e the Fork of the Ohio, where he 
 hoped to be able to cross the Allegany River on the ice. At 
 Murdering Town he found a party of Indians, who appeared to have 
 known of his coming, and to have been waiting for him. One of 
 them accosted Mr. Gist, and expressed great joy at seeing him. 
 The wary woodsman regarded him narrowly, and thought he had 
 seen him at Joncaire's. If so, he and his comrades were in the 
 French interest, and their lying in wait boded no good. The In- 
 dian was very curious in his inquiries as to when they had left Venango ; 
 how they came to be traveling on foot ; where they had left their 
 horses, and when it was probable the latter would reach this place. 
 All these questions increased the distrust of Gist, and rendered him 
 extremely cautious in reply. 
 
 The route hence to Shannopins Town lay through a trackless 
 wild, of which the travelers knew nothing ; after some consultation, 
 therefore, it was deemed expedient to engage one of the Indians as 
 a guide. He entered upon his duties with alacrity, took Washing- 
 ton's pack upon his back, and led the way by what he said was the 
 most direct course. After traveling briskly for eight or ten miles 
 W^ashington became fatigued, and his feet were chafed ; he thought, 
 too, they were taking a direction too much to the north-east ; he 
 came to a halt, therefore, and determined to light a fire, make a 
 shelter of the bark and branches of trees, and encamp there for the 
 night. The Indian demurred; he offered, as Washington was 
 fatigued, to carry his gun, but the latter was too wary to part with 
 his weapon. The Indian now grew churlish. There were Ottawa 
 Indians in the woods, he said, who might be attracted by their fire, 
 and surprise and scalp them; he urged, therefore, that they should 
 continue on : he would take them to his cabin, where they would 
 be safe. 
 
 Mr. Gist's suspicions increased, but he said nothing. Washing- 
 ton's also were awakened. They proceeded some distance further : 
 the guide paused and listened. He had heard, he said, the report 
 of a gun towards the north ; it must be from his cabin; he accord- 
 ingly turned his steps in that direction. Washington began to ap- 
 prehend an ambuscade of savages. He knew the hostility of many 
 of them to the English, and what a desirable trophy was the scalp 
 of a white man. The Indian still kept on toward the north ; he 
 pretended to hear two whoops — they were from his cabin — it could 
 not be far off. They went on two miles further, when Washington 
 signified his determination to encamp at the first water they should 
 find. The guide said nothing, but kept doggedly on. After a little 
 while they arrived at an opening in the woods, and emerging from 
 the deep shadows in which they had been traveling, found them- 
 selves in a clear meadow, rendered still more light by the glare of 
 the snow upon the ground. Scarcely had they emerged when the 
 Indian, who was about fifteen paces ahead, suddenly turned, lev- 
 
I753-] ^^ ANXIOUS NIGHT. 43 
 
 eled his gun, and fired. Washington was startled for an instant, 
 but, feeling that he was not wounded, demanded quickly of Mr. 
 Gist if he was shot. The latter answered in the negative. The 
 Indian in the mean time had run forward, and screened himself 
 behind a large white oak, where he was reloading his gun. They 
 overtook, and seized him. Gist would have put him to death on 
 the spot, but Washington humanely prevented him. They per- 
 mitted him to finish the loading of his gun ; but, after he had put in 
 the ball, took the weapon from him, and let him see that he was 
 under guard. 
 
 Arriving at a small stream they ordered the Indian to make a 
 fire, and took turns to watch over the guns. While he was thus 
 occupied. Gist, a veteran woodsman, and accustomed to hold the 
 life of an Indian rather cheap, was somewhat incommoded by the 
 scruples of his youthful commander, which might enable the sav- 
 age to carry out some scheme of treachery. He observed to 
 Washington, that, since he would not suffer the Indian to be killed, 
 they must manage to get him out of the way, and then decamp 
 with all speed, and travel all night to leave this perfidious neigh- 
 borhood behind them ; but first it was necessary to blind the guide 
 as to their intentions. He accordingly addressed him in a friendly 
 tone, and adverting to the late circumstance, pretended to suppose 
 that he had lost his way, and fired his gun merely as a signal. 
 The Indian, whether deceived or not, readily chimed in with the 
 explanation. He said he now knew the way to his cabin, which 
 was at no great distance. "Well then," replied Gist, "you can 
 go home, and as we are tired we will remain here for the night, and 
 follow your track at daylight. In the mean time here is a cake of 
 bread for you, and you must give us some meat in the morning." 
 
 Whatever might have been the original designs of the savage, he 
 was evidently glad to get off. Gist followed him cautiously for a 
 distance, and listened until the sound of his footsteps died away ; 
 returning then to Washington, they proceeded about half a mile, 
 made another fire, set their compass and fixed their course by the 
 light of it, then leaving it burning, pushed forward, and traveled 
 as fast as possible all night, so as to gain a fair start should any 
 one pursue them at daylight. Continuing on the next day they 
 never relaxed their speed until nightfall, when they arrived on the 
 banks of the Allegany River, about two miles above Shannopins 
 Town. 
 
 Washington had expected to find the river frozen completely 
 over ; it was so only for about fifty yards from each shore, while 
 great quantities of broken ice were driving dow-n the main channel. 
 Trusting that he had out-traveled pursuit, he encamped on the 
 border of the river ; still it was an anxious night, and he was up at 
 daybreak to devise some means of reaching the opposite bank. 
 No other mode presented itself than by a raft, and to construct this 
 they had but one poor hatchet. With this they set resolutely to 
 work and labored all day, but the sun went down before their raft 
 Avas finished. They launched it, however, and getting on board, 
 endeavored to propel it across with setting poles. Before they were 
 
44 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 half way over the raft became jammed between cakes of ice, and 
 they were in imminent peril. Washington planted his pole on the 
 bottom of the stream, and leaned against it with all his might, to 
 stay the raft until the ice should pass by. The rapid current forced 
 the ice against the pole with such violence that he was jerked into 
 the water, where it was at least ten feet deep, and only saved him- 
 self from being swept away and drowned by catching hold of one 
 of the raft logs. 
 
 It was now impossible with all their exertions to get to either 
 shore; abandoning the raft, therefore, they got upon an island, 
 near which they were drifting. Here they passed the night, 
 exposed to intense cold, by which the hands and feet of Mr. Gist 
 were frozen. In the morning they found the drift ice wedged so 
 closely together, that they succeeded in getting from the island to 
 the opposite side of the river ; and before night were in comforta- 
 ble quarters at the house of Frazier, the Indian trader, at the 
 mouth of Turtle Creek on the Monongahela. Here they learned 
 from a war party of Indians that a band of Ottawas, a tribe in the 
 interest of the French, had massacred a whole family of whites on 
 the banks of the great Kanawha River. 
 
 At Frazier' s they were detained two or three days endeavoring 
 to procure horses. In this interval Washington had again occasion 
 to exercise Indian diplomacy. About three miles distant, at the 
 mouth of the Youghiogeny River, dwelt a female sachem, Queen 
 Aliquippa, as the Enghsh called her, whose sovereign dignity had 
 been aggrieved, that the party on their way to the Ohio, had passed 
 near her royal wigwam without paying their respects to her. Aware 
 of the importance, at this critical juncture, of securing the friend- 
 ship of the Indians, Washington availed himself of the interruption 
 of his journey, to pay a visit of ceremony to this native princess. 
 Whatever anger she may have felt at past neglect, it was readily 
 appeased by a present of his old watch-coat; and her good graces 
 were completely secured by a bottle of rum, which, he intimates, 
 appeared to be peculiarly acceptable to her majesty. 
 
 Leaving Frazier's on the ist of January, they arrived on the 2d 
 at Gist's residence i6 miles from the Monongahela. Here they 
 separated, and Washington having purchased a horse, continued 
 his homeward course, passing horses laden with materials and 
 stores for the fort at the fork of the Ohio, and families going out to 
 settle there. 
 
 Having crossed the Blue Ridge and stopped one day at Belvoir 
 to rest, he reached Williamsburg on the i6th of January, where 
 he delivered to Governor Dinwiddie the letter of the French com- 
 mandant, and made him a full report of the events of his mission. 
 
 The prudence, sagacity, resolution, firmness, and self-devotion 
 manifested by him throughout ; his admirable tact and self-posses- 
 sion in treating with fickle savages and crafty white men ; the 
 soldier's eye with which he had noticed the commanding and 
 defensible points of the country, and everything that would bear 
 upon military operations ; and the hardihood with which he had 
 acquitted himself during a wintry tramp through the wilderness, 
 
1/54.] TRENT'S MISSIOiY TO THE FRONTIER. 45 
 
 through constant storms of rain and snow ; often sleeping on the 
 ground without a tent in the open air, and in danger from 
 treacherous foes, — all pointed him out, not merely to the 
 governor, but to the public at large, as one eminently fitted, 
 notwithstanding his youth, for important trusts involving civil 
 as well as mihtary duties. It is an expedition that may be 
 considered the foundation of his fortunes. From that moment he 
 was the rising hope of Virginia. 
 
 The reply of the Chevalier de St. Pierre was such as might have 
 been expected from that courteous, but wary commander. He 
 should transmit, he said, the letter of Governor Dinwiddle to his 
 general, the Marquis du Quesne, "to whom," observed he, "it 
 better belongs than to me to set forth the evidence and reality of 
 the rights of the king, my master, upon the lands situated along 
 the river Ohio, and to contest the pretensions of the King of Great 
 Britain thereto. His answer shall be a law to me. ****** 
 As to the summons you send me to retire, I do not think myself 
 obliged to obey it. Whatever may be your instructions, I am here 
 by virtue of the orders of my general ; and I entreat you, sir, not 
 to doubt one moment but that I am determined to conform myself 
 to them with all the exactness and resolution which can be expected 
 from the best officer. " -st * * * * 
 
 " I made it my particular care," adds he, " to receive Mr. 
 Washington with a distincdon suitable to your dignity, as well 
 as his own quality and great merit. I flatter myself that he will 
 do me this justice before you, sir, and that he will signify to you, in 
 the manner I do myself, the profound respect with which I am, 
 sir," &c. 
 
 This soldier-like and punctihous letter of the chevalier was con- 
 sidered evasive, and only intended to gain time. The information 
 given by Washington of what he had observed on the frontier 
 convinced Governor Dinwiddle and his council that the French 
 were preparing to descend the Ohio in the spring, and take military 
 possession of the country. Washington's journal was printed, and 
 widely promulgated throughout the colonies and England, and 
 awakened the nation to a sense of the impending danger, and the 
 necessity of prompt measures to anticipate the French movements. 
 
 Captain Trent was dispatched to the frontier, commissioned to 
 raise a company of one hundred men, march with all speed to the 
 Fork of the Ohio, and finish as soon as possible the fort com- 
 menced there by the Ohio Company. He was enjoined to act 
 only on the defensive, but to capture or destroy whoever should 
 oppose the construcdon of the works, or disturb the settlements. 
 The choice of Captain Trent for this service, notwithstanding his late 
 inefficient expedition, was probably owing to his being brother-in- 
 law to George Croghan, who had grown to be quite a personage of 
 consequence on the frontier, where he had an establishment or 
 trading-house, and was supposed to have great influence among 
 the western tribes, so as to be able at any time to persuade many 
 of them to take up the hatchet. 
 
 Washington was empowered to raise a company of like force at 
 
 ^ 
 
46 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Alexandria ; to procure and forward munitions and supplies for 
 the projected fort at the Fork, and ultimately to have command of 
 both companies. When on the frontier he was to take council of 
 George Groghan and Andrew Montour the interpreter, in all 
 matters relating to the Indians, they being esteemed perfect oracles 
 in that department. 
 
 Dinwiddie convened the House of Burgesses to devise measures 
 for the public security. Here, his high idea of prerogative and of 
 gubernatorial dignity met with a grievous countercheck from the 
 dawning spirit of independence. High as were the powers vested 
 in the colonial government of Virginia, of which, though but lieuten- 
 ant-governor, he had the actual control ; they were counterbalanced 
 by the power inherent in the people, growing out of their situation 
 and circumstances, and acting through their representatives. 
 
 There was no turbulent factious opposition ft) government in 
 Virginia; no "fierce democracy," the rank growth of crowded 
 cities, and a fermenting populace ; but there was the independence 
 of men, living apart in patriarchal style on their own rural 
 domains : surrounded by their families, dependents and slaves, 
 among whom their Avill was law, — and there was the individuality 
 in character and action of men prone to nurture pecuhar notions 
 and habits of thinking, in the thoughtful solitariness of country hfe. 
 
 When Dinwiddie propounded his scheme of operations on the 
 Ohio, some of the burgesses had the hardihood to doubt the claims 
 of the king to the disputed territory ; a doubt which the governor 
 reprobated as savoring strongly of a most disloyal French 
 spirit; he fired, as he says, at the thought " that an English legis- 
 lature should presume to doubt the right of his majesty to the 
 interior parts of this continent, the back part of his dominions! " 
 
 Others demurred to any grant of means for military purposes 
 which might be construed into an act of hostihty. To meet this 
 scruple it was suggested that the grant might be made for the pur- 
 pose of encouraging and protecting all settlers on the waters of the 
 Mississippi, And under this specious plea ten thousand pounds 
 were grudgingly voted ; but even this moderate sum was not put 
 at the absolute disposition of the governor. A committee was 
 appointed, with whom he was to confer as to its appropriation. 
 
 This precaution Dinwiddie considered an insulting invasion of the 
 right he possessed as governor to control the purse as well as the 
 sword ; and he complained bitterly of the assembly, as deeply 
 tinctured with a republican way of thinking, and disposed to 
 encroach on the prerogative of the crown, " Avhichhe feared would 
 render them more and more difficult to be brought to order.'" 
 
 Ways and means being provided, Governor DinAviddie augmented 
 the number of troops to be enlisted to three hundred, divided into 
 six companies. The command of the whole, as before, was offered 
 to Washington, but he shrank from it, as a charge too great for his 
 youth and inexperience. It was given, therefore, to Colonel 
 Joshua Fry, an Enghsh gentleman of worth and education, and 
 Washington was made second in command, with the rank of 
 lieutenant-colonel. 
 
I754-] CAPTAIN ADAM STEPHEN. 47 
 
 The recruiting, at first went on slowly. Those who offered to 
 enlist, says Washington, were for the most part loose idle persons 
 without house or home, some without shoes or stockings, some 
 shirtless, and many without coat or waistcoat. He was young in 
 the recruiting service, or he would have known that such is gener- 
 ally the stuff of which armies are made. In this country especially 
 it has always been difficult to enUst the active yeomanry by hold- 
 ing out merely the pay of a soldier. The means of subsistence are 
 too easily obtained by the industrious, for them to give up home 
 and personal independence for a mere daily support. Some may 
 be tempted by a love of adventure ; but in general, they require 
 some prospect of uldmate advantage that may " better their con- 
 dition." Governor Dinwiddle became sensible of this, and resorted 
 to an expedient arising out of the natural resources of the country, 
 which has since been frequently adopted, and always with efficacy. 
 He proclaimed a bounty of two hundred thousand acres of land 
 on the Ohio River, to be divided among the officers and soldiers 
 who should engage in this expedition ; one thousand to be laid out 
 contiguous to the fort at the fork, for the use of the garrison. This 
 was a tempting bait to the sons of farmers, who readily enhsted in 
 the hope of having, at the end of a short campaign, a snug farm 
 of their own in this land of promise. 
 
 It was a more dificult matter to get officers than soldiers. Very 
 few of those appointed made their appearance ; one of the cap- 
 tains had been promoted ; two declined ; Washington found him- 
 self left, almost alone, to manage a number of self-willed, undis- 
 ciplined recruits. Happily he had with him, in the rank of lieu- 
 tenant, that soldier of fortune Jacob Van Braam, his old " master 
 of fence," and traveling interpreter. In his emergency he forth- 
 with nominated him captain, and wrote to the governor to confirm 
 the appointment, representing him as the oldest heutenant, and an 
 experienced officer. 
 
 On the 2d of April Washington set off from Alexandria for the 
 new fort, at the fork of the Ohio. He had but two companies 
 with him, amounting to about one hundred and fifty men ; the 
 remainder of the regiment was to follow under Colonel Fry with 
 the artillery, which was to be conveyed up the Potomac. While 
 on the march he was joined by a detachment under Captain Adam 
 Stephen, an officer destined to serve with him at distant periods of 
 his military career. At Winchester he found it impossible to obtain 
 conveyances by gentle means, and was obliged reluctantly to avail 
 himself of the militia law of Virginia, and impress horses and 
 wagons for service ; giving the owners orders on government for 
 their appraised value. Even then, out of a great number impressed, 
 he obtained but ten, after waiting a week ; these, too, were grudg- 
 ingly furnished by farmers with their worst horses, so that in steep 
 and difficult passes they were incompetent to the draught, and the 
 soldiers had continually to put their shoulders to the wheels. 
 
 Thus slenderly fitted out, Washington and his little force made 
 their way toilfully across the mountains, having to prepare the 
 roads as they v.ent for the transportation of the cannon, which 
 
48 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 were to follow on with the other division under Colonel Fry, 
 They cheered themselves with the thoughts that this hard work would 
 cease when they should arrive at the company's trading-post and 
 store-house at Wills' Creek, where Captain Trent was to have 
 packhorses in readiness, with which they might make the rest of 
 the way by light stages. Before arriving there they were startled 
 by a rumor that Trent and all his men had been captured by the 
 French. With regard to Trent, the news soon proved to be false, 
 for they found him at Wills' Creek on the 20th of April. With 
 regard to his men there was still an uncertainty. He had recently 
 left them at the fork of the Ohio, busily at work on the fort, under 
 the command of his lieutenant, Frazier, late Indian trader and gun- 
 smith, but now a provincial officer. If the men had been captured, 
 it must have been since the captain's departure. Washington was 
 eager to press forward and ascertain the truth, but it was impossible. 
 Trent, inefficient as usual, had failed to provide packhorses. It 
 was necessary to send to Winchester, sixty miles distant, for bag- 
 gage wagons, and await their arrival. AH uncertainty as to the 
 fate of the men, however, was brought to a close by their arrival, 
 on the 25th, conducted by an ensign, and bringing with them their 
 working implements. The French might well boast that they had 
 again been too quick for the Enghsh. Captain Contrecceur, an 
 alert officer, had embarked about a thousand men with field-pieces, 
 in a fleet of sixty bateaux and three hundred canoes, dropped 
 down the river from Venango, and suddenly made his appearance 
 before the fort, on which the men w-ere working, and which was 
 not half completed. Landing, drawing up his men, and planting 
 his artillery, he summoned the fort to surrender, allowing one hour 
 for a written reply. 
 
 What was to be done ! the whole garrison did not exceed fifty 
 men. Captain Trent was absent at Wills' Creek ; Frazier, his 
 lieutenant, was at his own residence at Turtle Creek, ten miles dis- 
 tant. There was no officer to reply but a young ensign of the 
 name of W^ard. In his perplexity he turned for counsel to Tana- 
 charisson, the half-king, who was present in the fort. The chief 
 advised the ensign to plead insufficiency of rank and powers, and 
 crave delay until the arrival of his superior officer. The ensign 
 repaired to the French camp to offer this excuse in person, and 
 was accompanied by the half-king. They were courteously 
 received, but Contrecceur was inflexible. There must be instant 
 surrender, or he would take forcible possession. All that the 
 ensign could obtain was permission to depart with his men, taking 
 with them their working tools. The capitulation ended. Contre- 
 cceur, with true French gayety, invited the ensign to sup with him; 
 treated him with the utmost politeness, and wished him a pleasant 
 journey, as he set off the next morning with his men laden with 
 their w^orking tools. 
 
 Such was the ensign's story. He was accompanied by two 
 Indian warriors, sent by the half-king to ascertain where the 
 detachment was, what was its strength, and when it might be 
 expected at the Ohio. They bore a speech from that sachem to 
 
1754.] LEGISLATIVE CROSS-PURPOSES. 49 
 
 Washington, and another, with a belt of wampum for the Governor 
 of Virginia. In these he phghtedhis steadfast faith to the Enghsh, 
 and claimed assistance from his brothers of Virginia and Penn- 
 sylvania. 
 
 One of these warriors Washington forwarded on with the speech 
 and wampum to Governor Dinwiddie. The other he prevailed on 
 to return to the half-king, bearing a speech from him, addressed to 
 the "Sachems, warriors of the Six United Nations, Shannoahs and 
 Delawares, our friends and brethren." In this he informed them 
 that he was on the advance with a part of the army, to clear the 
 road for a greater force coming with guns, ammunition, and pro- 
 visions ; and he invited the half-king and another sachem to meet 
 him on the road as soon as possible to hold a council. 
 
 In fact, his situation was arduous in the extreme. Regarding 
 the conduct of the French in the recent occurrence an overt act of 
 war, he found himself thrown with a handful of raw recruits far 
 on a hostile frontier, in the midst of a wilderness, with an enemy 
 at hand greatly superior in number and discipline ; provided with 
 artillery, and all the munitions of war, and within reach of con- 
 stant supplies and reinforcements. Beside the French that had come 
 from Venango, he had received credible accounts of another party 
 ascending the Ohio; and of six hundred Chippewas and Ottawas 
 marching down Scioto Creek to join the hostile camp. 
 
 Still, notwithstanding the accumulating danger, it would not 
 do to fall back, nor show signs of apprehension. His Indian 
 aUies in such case might desert him. The soldiery, too, might 
 grow restless and dissatisfied. He was already annoyed by Cap- 
 tain Trent's men, who, having enhsted as volunteers, considered 
 themselves exempt from the rigor of martial law ; and by their 
 example of loose and refractory conduct, threatened to destroy the 
 subordination of his own troops. In this dilemma he called a 
 council of war, in which it was determined to proceed to the Ohio 
 Company store-house, at the mouth of Redstone Creek ; fortify 
 themselves there, and wait for reinforcements. Here they might 
 keep up a vigilant watch upon the enemy, and get notice of any 
 hostile movement in time for defence, or retreat ; and should they 
 be reinforced sufficiently to enable them to attack the fort, they 
 could easily drop down the river with their artillery. 
 
 With these alternatives in view Washington detached sixty men 
 in advance to make a road ; and at the same time wrote to Gover- 
 nor Dinwiddie for mortars and grenadoes, and cannon of heavy 
 metal. 
 
 Aware that the Assembly of Pennsylvania was in session, and 
 that the Maryland Assembly would also meet in the course of a 
 few days, he wrote directly to the governors of those provinces, 
 acquainting them with the hostile acts of the French, and with his 
 perilous situation ; and endeavoring to rouse them to co-operation 
 in the common cause. We will here note in advance that his let- 
 ter was laid before the Legislature of Pennsylvania, and a bill 
 was about to be passed making appropriations for the service of the 
 king ; but it fell through, in consequence of a disagreement be- 
 
50 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 tween the Assembly and the governor as to the mode in which 
 the money should be raised ; and so no assistance was furnished 
 to Washington from that quarter. The youthful commander had 
 here a foretaste, in these his incipient campaigns, of the perils and 
 perplexities which awaited him from enemies in the field, and 
 lax friends in legislative councils in the grander operations of his 
 future years. Before setting off for Redstone Creek, he discharged 
 Trent's refractory men from his detachment, ordering them to 
 await Colonel Fry's commands; they, however, in the true spirit 
 of volunteers from the backwoods, dispersed to their several 
 homes. 
 
 On the 29th of April Washington set out from Wills' Creek at 
 the head of one hundred and sixty men. He soon overtook those 
 sent in advance to work the road ; they had made but little 
 progress. It was a difficult task to break a road through the 
 wilderness sufficient for the artillery coming on with Colonel Fry's 
 division. All hands were now set to work, but with all their labor 
 they could not accomplish more than four miles a day. They 
 were toiling through Savage Mountain and that dreary forest 
 region beyond it, since bearing the sinister name of "The Shades 
 of Death." On the 9th of May they were not further than twenty 
 miles from Wills' Creek, at a place called the Little Meadows. 
 
 Every day came gloomy accounts from the Ohio ; brought 
 chiefly by traders, who, with packhorses bearing their effects, were 
 retreating to the more settled parts of the country. Some exag- 
 gerated the number of the French, as if strongly reinforced. All 
 represented them as diligently at work constructing a fort. By 
 their account W^ashington perceived the French had chosen the 
 very place which he had noted in his journal as best fitted for the 
 purpose. 
 
 One of the traders gave information concerning La Force, the 
 French emissary, who had beset Washington when on his mission 
 to the frontier, and acted, as he thought, the part of a spy. He 
 had been at Gist's new settlement beyond Laurel Hill, and was 
 prowling about the country with four soldiers at his heels on a pre- 
 tended hunt after deserters. Washington suspected him to be on a 
 reconnoitering expedition. 
 
 It was reported, moreover, that the French were lavishing 
 presents on the Indians about the lower part of the river, to draw 
 them to their standard. Among all these flying reports and alarms 
 Washington was gratified to learn that the half-king was on his 
 way to meet him at the head of fifty warriors. 
 
 After infinite toil through swamps and forests, and over rugged 
 mountains, the detachment arrived at the Youghiogeny River, 
 where they were detained some days constructing a bridge to 
 cross it. 
 
 This gave Washington leisure to correspond with Governor 
 Dinwiddie, concerning matters which had deeply annoyed him. 
 By an ill-judged economy of the Virginia government at this criti- 
 cal juncture, its provincial officers received less pay than that 
 allowed in the regular armv. It is true the regular officers were 
 
WILLIAM PENK. 
 
1754.] LURKING FOES. 51 
 
 obliged to furnish their own table, but their supeiior pay enabled 
 them to do it luxuriously ; whereas the provincials were obliged to 
 do hard duty on salt provisions and water. The provincial officers 
 resented this inferiority of pay as an indignity, and declared that 
 nothing prevented them from throwing up their commissions but 
 unwillingness to recede before approaching danger. " For my 
 own part," writes he to his friend Colonel Fairfax, "it is a matter 
 almost indifferent whether I serve for full pay or as a generous 
 volunteer; indeed, did my circumstances correspond with my in- 
 clinations, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter ; for 
 the motives that have led nie here are pure and tioble. I had no 
 view of acquisition but that of honor, by serving faithfully my 
 king and country.'' 
 
 Such were the noble impulses of Washington at the age of twenty- 
 two, and such continued to actuate him throughout life. We have 
 put the latter part of the quotation in italics, as applicable to the 
 motives which in after life carried him into the Revolution. 
 
 While the bridge over the Youghiogeny was in the course of con- 
 struction, the Indians assured W^ashington he would never be able 
 to open a Avagon-road across the mountains to Redstone Creek ; he 
 embarked therefore in a canoe with a lieutenant, three soldiers, 
 and an Indian guide, to try whether it was possible to descend the 
 river. They had not descended above ten miles before the Indian 
 refused to go further. Washington soon ascertained the reason. 
 " Indians," said he, "expect presents — nothing can be done with- 
 out them. The French take this method. If you want one or 
 more to conduct a party, to discover the country, to hunt, or for 
 any particular purpose, they must be bought ; their friendship is 
 not so warm as to prompt them to these services gratis." The In- 
 dian guide, in the present instance, was propitiated by the promise 
 of one of Washington's ruffled shirts, and a watch-coat. 
 
 The river was bordered by mountains and obstructed by rocks 
 and rapids. Indians might thread such a labyrinth in their light 
 canoes, but it would never admit the transportation of troops and 
 military stores. Washington kept on for thirty miles, until he 
 came to a place where the river fell nearly forty feet in the space of 
 fifty yards. There he ceased to explore, and returned to camp, 
 resolving to continue forward by land. 
 
 On the 23d Indian scouts brought word that the French were not 
 above eight hundred strong, and that about half their number had 
 been detached at night on a secret expedition. Close upon this re- 
 port came a message from the half-king, addressed " to the first of 
 his majesty's officers whom it may concern. It is reported," 
 said he, " that the French army is coming to meet Major Washing- 
 ton. Be on your guard against them, my brethren, for they intend 
 to strike the first English they shall see. They have been on their 
 march two days. I know not their number. The half-king and 
 the rest of the chiefs will be with you in five days to hold a 
 council." 
 
 In the evening Washington was told that the French were cross- 
 ing the ford of the Youghiogeny about eighteen miles distant. He 
 
52 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 now hastened to take a position in a place called the Great 
 Meadows, where he caused the bushes to be cleared away, made 
 an intrenchment, and prepared what he termed " a charming field 
 for an encounter." 
 
 A party of scouts were mounted on wagon horses, and sent out 
 to reconnoiter. They returned without having seen an enemy. 
 A sensitiveness prevailed in the camp. They were surrounded by 
 forests, threatened by unseen foes, and hourly in danger of sur- 
 prise. There was an alarm about two o'clock in the night. 
 The sentries fired upon what they took to be prowling foes. The 
 troops sprang to arms, and remained on the alert until day- 
 break. Not an enemy was to be seen. The roll was called. Six 
 men were missing, who had deserted. 
 
 About nine o'clock at night came an Indian messenger from the 
 half-king, who Avas encamped with several of his people about six 
 miles off. The chief had seen tracks of two Frenchmen, and was 
 convinced their whole body must be in ambush near by. Wash- 
 ington considered this the force which had been hovering about 
 him for several days, and determined to forestall their hostile 
 designs. Leaving a guard with the baggage and ammunition, he 
 set out before ten o'clock, with forty men, to join his Indian ally. 
 They groped their way in single file, by footpaths through the 
 woods, in a heavy rain and murky darkness, tripping occasionally 
 and stumbling over each other, sometimes losing the track for 
 fifteen or twenty minutes, so that it was near sunrise when they 
 reached the camp of the half-king. That chieftain received the 
 youthful commander with great demonstrations of friendship, and 
 engaged to go hand in hand with him against the lurking enemy. 
 He set out accordingly, accompanied by a few of his warriors and 
 his associate sachem Scarooyadi or Monacatoocha, and conducted 
 Washington to the tracks which he had discovered. Upon these 
 he put two of his Indians. They followed them up like hounds, 
 and brought back word that they had traced them to a low bottom 
 surrounded by rocks and trees, where the French were encamped, 
 having built a few cabins for shelter from the rain. 
 
 A plan was now concerted to come upon them by surprise ; 
 Washington with his men on the right ; the half-king with his war- 
 riors on the left ; all as silently as possible. Washington was the 
 first upon the ground. As he advanced from among the rocks and 
 trees at the head of his men, the French caught sight of him and 
 ran to their arms. A sharp firing instantly took place, and was 
 kept upon both sides for about fifteen minutes. Washington and his 
 party were most exposed and received all the enemy's fire. The 
 balls whistled around him ; one man was killed close by him, and 
 three others wounded. The French at length, having lost several 
 of their number, gave way and ran. They were soon overtaken ; 
 twenty-one were captured, and but one escaped, a Canadian, who 
 carried the tidings of the affair to the fort on the Ohio. The In- 
 dians would have massacred the prisoners had not Washington 
 prevented them. Ten of the French had fallen in the skirmish, 
 and one been wounded. Washington's loss was the one killed and 
 
1 7 54-] SKIRMISH WITH JUMONVILLE. 53 
 
 three wounded which we have mentioned. He had been in the 
 hottest fire, and having for the first time heard balls whistle about 
 him, considered his escape miraculous, Jumonville, the French 
 leader, had been shot through the head at the first fire. He was 
 a young officer of merit, and his fate was made the subject 
 of lamentation in prose and verse — chiefly through political 
 motives. 
 
 Of the twenty-one prisoners the two most important were an 
 officer of some consequence named Urouillon, and the subtle and 
 redoubtable La Force. As Washington considered the latter an 
 arch mischief-maker, he was rejoiced to have him in his power. 
 La Force and his companion would fain have assumed the sacred 
 character of ambassadors, pretending they were coming with a 
 summons to him to depart from the territories belonging to the 
 crown of France. 
 
 Unluckily for their pretensions, a letter of instructions, found on 
 Jumonville, betrayed their real errand, which was to inform them- 
 selves of the roads, rivers, and other features of the country as far 
 as the Potomac ; to send back from time to time, by fleet messen- 
 gers, all. the information they could collect, and to give word of the 
 day on which they intended to serve the summons. 
 
 It would seem that La Force, after all, was but an instrument in 
 the hands of his commanding officers, and not in their full confi- 
 dence ; for when the commission and instructions found on Jumon- 
 ville were read before him, he professed not to have seen them 
 before, and acknowledged, with somewhat of an air of ingenuous- 
 ness, that he believed they had a hostile tendency. 
 
 Upon the whole, it was the opinion of Washington and his offi- 
 cers that the summons, on which so much stress was laid, was a 
 mere specious pretext to mask their real designs and be used as 
 occasion might require. "That they were spies rather than any- 
 thing else," and were to be treated as prisoners of war. 
 
 The half-king joined heartily in this opinion ; indeed, had the 
 fate of the prisoners been in his hands, neither diplomacy nor any- 
 thing else would have been of avail. "They came with hostile 
 intentions, he said; "they had bad hearts, and if his English 
 brothers were so foolish as to let them go, he would never aid in 
 taking another Frenchman." 
 
 The prisoners were accordingly conducted to the camp at the 
 Great Meadows, and sent on the following day (29th), under a 
 strong escort to Governor Dinwiddie, then at Winchester. Wash- 
 ington had treated them with great courtesy ; had furnished 
 Drouillon and La Force with clothing from his own scanty stock, 
 and, at their request, given them letters to the governor, bespeaking 
 for them "the respect and favor due to their character and personal 
 merit." 
 
 A sense of duty, however, obliged him, in his general dispatch, 
 to put the governor on his guard against La Force. " I really 
 think, if released, he would do more to our disservice than fifty 
 other men, as he is a person whose active spirit leads him into all 
 parties, and has brought him acquainted with all parts of the 
 
54 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 country. Add to this a perfect knowledge of the Indian tongue, 
 and great influence with the Indians." 
 
 The situation of Washington was now extremely perilous. Con- 
 trecceur, it was said, had nearly a thousand men with him at the 
 fort, beside Indian allies ; and reinforcements were on the way to 
 join him. The messengers sent by Jumonville, previous to the late 
 affair, must have apprised him of the weakness of the encampment 
 on the Great Meadows. Washington hastened to strengthen it. 
 He wrote by express also to Colonel Fry, who lay ill at Wills' 
 Creek, urging instant reinforcements ; but declaring his resolution 
 to " fight with very unequal numbers rather than give up one inch 
 of what he had gained." 
 
 The half-king was full of fight. He sent the scalps of the French- 
 men slain in the late skirmish, accompanied by black wampum 
 and hatchets, to all his allies, summoning them to take up arms 
 and join him at Redstone Creek, " for their brothers, the Enghsh, 
 had now begun in earnest." It is said he would even have sent 
 the scalps of the prisoners had not Washington interfered. He 
 went off for his home, promising to send down the river for all 
 the Mingoes and Shawnees, and to be back at the camp on the 
 30th, with thirty or forty warriors, accompanied by their wives and 
 children. To assist him in the transportation of his people and 
 their effects thirty men were detached, and twenty horses. 
 
 " I shall expect every hour to be attacked," writes Washington 
 to Governor Dinwiddle, on the 29th, and by unequal numbers, 
 which I must withstand, if there are five to one, for I fear the 
 consequence will be that we shall lose the Indians if we suffer our- 
 selves to be driven back. Your honor may depend I will not be 
 surprised, let them come at what hour they will, and this is as much 
 as I can promise ; but my best endeavors shall not be wanting to 
 effect more. I doubt not, if you hear I am beaten, but you will 
 hear at the same time that we have done our duty in fighting as 
 long as there is a shadow of hope." 
 
 The fact is, that Washington was in a high state of military 
 excitement. He was a young soldier; had been for the first time 
 in action, and been successful. The letters we have already 
 quoted show, in some degree, the fervor of his mind, and his readi- 
 ness to brave the worst ; but a short letter, written to one of his 
 brothers, on the 31st, lays open the recesses of his heart. 
 
 "We expect every hour to be attacked by superior force ; but 
 if they forbear but one day longer we shall be prepared for them. 
 * * "^ * We have already got intrenchments, and are about a pali- 
 sade, which, I hope will be finished to-day. The Mingoes have 
 struck the French, and, I hope, will give a good blow before they 
 have done. I exp%ct forty odd of them here to-night, which, with 
 our fort, and some reinforcements from Colonel Fry, will enable us 
 to exert our noble courage with spirit." 
 
 Alluding in a postscript to the late affair, he adds : "I fortunately 
 escaped without any wound; for the right wing, where I stood, was 
 exposed to, and received, all the enemy's fire; and it was the part 
 where the man was killed and the rest wounded. / /leard the 
 
1754.] INDEPENDENT COMPANIES. 55 
 
 bullets whistle^ and, believe me, there is something charming in 
 the sound.'''' 
 
 Washington being asked, many years afterward, whether he 
 really had made such a speech about the whisthng of bullets," If 
 I said so," replied he quietly, "it was when I was young." He 
 was indeed, but twenty -two years old when he said it ; it was just 
 after his first battle ; he was flushed with success, and was writing 
 to a brother. 
 
 Scarcity began to prevail in the camp. Contracts had been 
 made with George Croghan for flour, which he had large quantities 
 at his frontier establishment ; for he was now trading with the army 
 as well as with the Indians. None, however, made its appearance. 
 There was mismanagement in the commissariat. At one time the 
 troops were six days without flour ; and even then had only a cas- 
 ual supply from an Ohio trader. In this time of scarcity the half- 
 king, his fellow sachem, Scarooyadi, and thirty or forty warriors, 
 arrived, bringing with them their wives and children — so many 
 more hungry mouths to be supplied. Washington wrote urgently 
 to Croghan to send forward all the flour he could furnish. 
 
 By the death of Fry, at Wills* Creek, the command of the regi- 
 ment devolved on Washington. Finding a blank major's commis- 
 sion among Fry's papers, he gave it to Captain Adam Stephen, 
 vAxo had conducted himself with spirit. As there would necessarily 
 be other changes, he wrote to Governor Dinwiddie in behalf of 
 Jacob Van Braam. "He has acted as captain ever since we left 
 Alexandria. He is an experienced officer, and worthy of the com- 
 mand he has enjoyed." 
 
 The palisaded fort was now completed, and was named Fort 
 Necessity, from the pinching famine that had prevailed during its 
 construction. The scanty force in camp was augmented to three 
 hundred, by the arrival from Wills' Creek of the men who had 
 been under Colonel Fry. With them came the surgeon of the reg- 
 iment, Dr. James Craik, a Scotchman by birth, and one destined 
 to become a faithful and confidential friend of Washington for the 
 remainder of his life. 
 
 On the 9th arrived Washington's early instructor in military tac- 
 tics, Adjutant Muse, recently appointed a major in the regiment. 
 He was accompanied by Montour, the Indian interpreter, now a 
 provincial captain, and brought with him nine swivels, and a small 
 supply of pow^der and ball. Fifty or sixty horses were forthwith 
 sent to Wills' Creek, to bring on further supplies, and Mr. Gist was 
 urged to hasten forward the artillery. 
 
 Major Muse was likewise the bearer of a belt of wampum and a 
 speech, from Governor Dinwiddie to the half-king; with medals 
 for the chiefs, and goods for presents among the friendly Indians, 
 a measure which had been suggested by Washington. They were 
 distributed with that grand ceremonial so dear to the red man. 
 The chiefs assembled, painted and decorated in all their savage 
 finery ; W^ashington wore a medal sent to him by the governor for 
 such occasions. The wampum and speech having been delivered, 
 he advanced, and with all due solemnity, decorated the chiefs and 
 
56 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 warriors with the medals, which they were to wear in remembrance 
 of their father the King of England. 
 
 Among the warriors thus decorated was a son of Queen 
 Aliquippa, the savage princess whose good graces Washington had 
 secured in the preceding year, by the present of an old watch-coat, 
 and whose friendship was important, her town being at no great 
 distance from the French fort. She had requested that her son 
 might be admitted into the war councils of the camp, and receive 
 an English name. The name of Fairfax was accordingly given 
 to him, in the customary Indian form ; the half-king being desir- 
 ous of life distinction, received the name of Dinwiddie. The 
 sachems returned the compliment in kind, by giving Washington 
 the name of Connotaucarius ; the meaning of which is not 
 explained. 
 
 William Fairfax, Washington's paternal adviser, had recently 
 counseled him by letter, to have public prayers in his camp ; 
 especially when there were Indian families there ; this was accord- 
 ingly done at the encampment in the Great Meadows, and it cer- 
 tainly was not one of the least striking pictures presented in this wild 
 campaign — the youthful commander, presiding with calm serious- 
 ness over a motly assemblage of half-equipped soldiery, leathern- 
 clad hunters and woodsmen, and painted savages with their wives 
 and children, and uniting them all in solemn devotion by his own 
 example and demeanor. 
 
 On the loth there was agitation in the camp. Scouts hurried in 
 with word, as Washington understood them, that a party of ninety 
 Frenchmen were approaching. He instantly ordered t)ut a hun- 
 dred and fifty of his best men ; put himself at their head, and 
 leaving Major Muse M'ith the rest, to man the fort and mount the 
 swivels, sallied forth "in the full hope" as he afterward wrote to 
 Governor Dinwiddie, "of procuring him another present of French 
 prisoners." 
 
 It was another effervescence of his youthful mihtary ardor, and 
 doomed to disappointment. The report of the scouts had been 
 either exaggerated or misunderstood. The ninety Frenchmen in 
 military array dwindled down into nine French deserters. Accord- 
 ing to their account, the fort at the fork was completed, and named 
 Duquesne, in honor of the Governor of Canada. It was proof 
 against all attack, excepting with bombs, on the land side. The 
 garrison did not exceed five hundred, but two hundred more were 
 hourly expected, and nine hundred in the course of a fortnight. 
 
 Washington's suspicions with respect to La Force's party were 
 justified by the report of these deserters ; they had been sent out 
 as spies, and were to show the summons if discovered or overpow- 
 ered. The French commander, they added, had been blamed for 
 sending out so small a party. 
 
 On the same day Captain Mackay arrived, with an independent 
 company of South Carolinians. The captain was civil and well 
 disposed, but full of formalities and points of etiquette. Holding 
 a commission direct from the king, he could not bring himself to 
 acknowledge a provincial officer as his superior. He encamped 
 
1 754-] RETREAT TO THE GREAT MEADOWS. 57 
 
 separately, kept separate guards, would not agree that Washington 
 should assign any rallying place for his men in case of alarm, 
 and objected to receive from him the parole and countersign, 
 though necessary for their common safety. 
 
 Washington conducted himself with circumspection, avoiding 
 everything that might call up a question of command, and reason- 
 ing calmly whenever such question occurred ; but he urged the 
 governor by letter, to prescribe their relative rank and authority. 
 " He thinks you have not a power to g^ve commissions that will 
 command him. If so, I can very confidently say that his absence 
 would tend to the pubhc advantage." 
 
 On the nth of June, Washington resumed the laborious march 
 for Redstone Creek. As Captain Mackay could not oblige his men 
 to work on the road unless they were allowed a shilling sterling a 
 day ; and as Washington did not choose to pay this, nor to suffer 
 them to march at their ease while his own faithful soldiers were 
 laboriously employed; he left the captain and his Independent 
 company as a guard at Fort Necessity, and undertook to complete 
 the military road with his own men. 
 
 Accordingly, he and his Virginia troops toiled forward through 
 the narrow defiles of the mountains, working on the road as they 
 went. Scouts were sent out in all directions, to prevent surprise. 
 While on the march he was continually beset by sachems, with their 
 tedious ceremonials and speeches, all to very little purpose. Some 
 of these chiefs were secretly in the French interest ; few rendered 
 any real assistance, and all expected presents. 
 
 At Gist's- establishment, about thirteen miles from Fort Neces- 
 sity, Washington received certain intelligence that ample reinforce- 
 ments had arrived at Fort Duquesne, and a large force would 
 instantly be detached against him. Coming to a halt, he began to 
 throw up intrenchments, calling in two foraging parties, and send- 
 ing word to Captain Mackay to join him with all speed. The cap- 
 tain and his company arrived in the evening, the foraging parties 
 the next morning. A council of war was held, in which the idea 
 of awaiting the enemy at this place was unanimously abandoned. 
 
 A rapid and toilsome retreat ensued. There was a deficiency of 
 horses. Washington gave up his own to aid in transporting the 
 miUtary munitions, leaving his baggage to be brought on by sol- 
 diers, whom he paid liberally. The other officers followed his 
 example. The weather was sultry ; the roads were rough ; pro- 
 visions were scanty, and the men dispirited by hunger. The Vir- 
 ginian soldiers took turns to drag the swivels, but felt almost 
 insulted by the conduct of the South Carohnians, who, piquing 
 themselves upon their assumed privileges as " king's soldiers," 
 sauntered along at their ease ; refusing to act as pioneers, or par- 
 ticipate in the extra labors incident to a hurried retreat. 
 
 On the 1st of July they reached the Great Meadows. Here the 
 Virginians, exhausted by fatigue, hunger, and vexation, declared 
 they would carry the baggage and drag the swivels no further. 
 Contrary to his original intentions, therefore, Washington deter- 
 mined to halt here for the present, and fortify, sending off 
 
58 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 expresses to hasten supplies and reinforcements from Wills* Creek, 
 where he had reason to believe that two independent companies 
 from New York were by this time arrived. 
 
 The retreat to the Great Meadows had not been in the least too 
 precipitate. Captain de Villiers, a brother-in-law of Jumonville, 
 had actually sallied forth from Fort Duquesne at the head of 
 upward of five hundred French, and several hundred Indians, 
 eager to avenge the death of his relative. Arriving about dawn 
 of day at Gist's plantation, he surrounded the works which Wash- 
 ington had hastily thrown up there, and fired into them. Finding 
 them deserted, he concluded that those of whom he came in search 
 had made good their retreat to the settlements, and it was too late 
 to pursue them. He was on the point of returning to Fort 
 Duquesne, when a deserter arrived, who gave word that Wash- 
 ington had come to a halt in the Great Meadows, where his troops 
 were in a starving condition ; for his own part, he added, hearing 
 that the French were coming, he had deserted to them to escape 
 starvation. De Villiers ordered the fellow into confinement; to be 
 rewarded if his words proved true, otherwise to be hanged. He 
 then pushed forward for the Great Meadows. 
 
 In the mean time Washington had exerted himself to enlarge 
 and strengthen Fort Necessity, nothing of which had been done 
 by Captain Mackay and his men, while encamped there. The 
 fort was about a hundred feet square, protected by trenches and 
 palisades. It stood on the margin of a small stream, nearly in the 
 centre of the Great Meadows, which is a grassy plain, perfectly 
 level, surrounded by wooded hills of a moderate height, and at 
 that place about two hundred and fifty yards wide. W^ashington 
 asked no assistance from the South Carolina troops, but set to 
 work with his Virginians, animating them by word and example ; 
 sharing in the labor of felling trees, hewing off the branches, and 
 rolling up the trunks to form a breastwork. 
 
 At this critical juncture he was deserted by his Indian allies. 
 They were disheartened at the scanty preparations for defence 
 against a superior force, and offended at being subjected to mili- 
 tary command. The half-king thought he had not been suffi- 
 ciently consulted, and that his advice had not been sufficiently fol- 
 lowed ; such, at least, were some of the reasons which he subse- 
 quently gave for abandoning the youthful commander on the 
 approach of danger. The true reason was a desire to put his wife 
 and children in a place of safety. Most of his warriors followed 
 his example ; very few, and those probably who had no families 
 at risk, remained in the camp. 
 
 Early in the morning of the 3d, while Washington and his men 
 were working on the fort, a sentinel came in wounded and bleed- 
 ing, having been fired upon. Scouts brought word shortly after- 
 M'ard that the French were in force, about four miles off. Wash- 
 ington drew up his men on level ground outside of the works, to 
 await their attack. About 11 o'clock there was a firing of mus- 
 ketry from among trees on rising ground, but so distant as to do no 
 harm ; suspecting this to be a strategem designed to draw his men 
 
1 753-] ^ TTA CK OF FOR T NECESSITY. 59 
 
 into the woods, he ordered them to keep quiet, and refrain from 
 firing until tlie foe should show themselves, and draw near. 
 
 The firing was kept up, but still under cover. He now fell back 
 with his men into the trenches, ordering them to fire whenever they 
 could get sight of an enemy. In this way there was skirmishing 
 throughout the day ; the French and Indians advancing as near 
 as the covert of the woods would permit, which in the nearest place 
 was sixty yards, but never into open sight. In the meanwhile the 
 rain fell in torrents; the harassed and jaded troops were half 
 drowned in their trenches, and many of their muskets were ren- 
 dered unfit for use. About eight at night the French requested a 
 parley. Washington hesitated. It might be a stratagem to gain 
 admittance for a spy into the fort. The request was repeated, with 
 the addition that an officer might be sent to treat with them, under 
 their parole for his safety. Unfortunately the Chevaher de Pey- 
 rouney, engineer of the regiment, and the only one who could 
 speak French correctly, was wounded and disabled. Washington 
 had to send, therefore, his ancient swordsman and interpreter, 
 Jacob Van Braam. The captain returned twice with separate 
 terms, in which the garrison was required to surrender ; both were 
 rejected. He returned a third time, with written articles of capitu- 
 lation. They were in French. As no implements for writing were 
 at hand, Van Braam undertook to translate them by word of mouth. 
 A candle was brought, and held close to the paper while he read. 
 The rain fell in torrents ; it was difificult to keep the light from 
 being extinguished. The captain rendered the capitulation, article 
 by article, in mongrel English, while Washington and his of^cers 
 stood listening, endeavoring to disentangle the meaning. One 
 article stipulated that on surrendering the fort they should leave all 
 their mihtary stores, munitions, and artillery in possession of the 
 French. This was objected to, and was readily modified. 
 
 The main articles, as Washington and his officers understood 
 them, were, that they should be allowed to return to the settlements 
 without molestation from French or Indians. That they should 
 march out of the fort with the honors of war, drums beating and 
 colors flying, and with all their effects and military stores excepting 
 the artillery, which should be destroyed. That they should be 
 allowed to deposit their effects in some secret place, and leave a 
 guard to protect them until they could send horses to bring them 
 away ; their horses having been nearly all killed or lost during the 
 action. That they should give their word of honor not to attempt 
 any buildings or improvements on the lands of his most Chiistian 
 Majesty, for the space of a year. That the prisoners taken in the 
 skirmish of Jumonville should be restored, and until their delivery 
 Captain Van Braam and Captain Stobo should remain with the 
 French as hostages. 
 
 The next morning accordingly, Washington and his men marched 
 out of their forlorn fortress with the honors of war, bearing with 
 them their regimental colors, but leaving behind a large flag, too 
 cumbrous to be transported. Scarcely had they begun their 
 march, however, when, in defiance of the terms of capitulation, 
 
6o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 they were beset by a large body of Indians, allies of the French, 
 who began plundering the baggage, and committing other irregu- 
 larities. Seeing that the French did not, or could not, prevent 
 them, and that all the baggage which could not be transported on 
 the shoulders of his troops would fall into the hands of these sav- 
 ages, Washington ordered it to be destroyed, as well as the artillery, 
 gunpowder, and other military stores. All this detained him until 
 ten o'clock, when he set out on his melancholy march. He had 
 not proceeded above a mile when two or three of the wounded men 
 were reported to be missing. He immediately detached a few men 
 back in quest of them, and continued on until three miles from 
 Fort Necessity, where he encamped for the night, and was rejoined 
 by the stragglers. 
 
 In this affair, out of the Virginia regiment, consisting of three 
 hundred and five men, officers included, twelve had been killed, 
 and forty-three wounded. The number killed and wounded in 
 Captain Mackay's company is not known. The loss of the French 
 and Indians is supposed to have been much greater. 
 
 In the following day's march the troops seemed jaded and dis- 
 heartened ; they were encumbered and delayed by the wounded; 
 provisions were scanty, and they had seventy weary miles to 
 accomphsh before they could meet with supphes. Washington, 
 however, encouraged them by his own steadfast and cheerful 
 demeanor, and by sharing all their toils and privations ; and at 
 length conducted them in safety to Wills' Creek, where they found 
 ample provisions in the miUtary magazines. Leaving them here 
 to recover their strength, he proceeded with Captain Mackay to 
 Williamsburg, to make his military report to the governor. 
 
 A copy of the capitulation was subsequently laid before the Vir- 
 ginia House of Burgesses, with explanations. Notwithstanding the 
 unfortunate result of the campaign, the conduct of Washington and 
 his officers was properly appreciated, and they received a vote of 
 thanks for their bravery, and gallant defence of their country. 
 Three hundred pistoles (nearly eleven hundred dollars) also 
 were voted to be distributed among the privates who had been in 
 action. 
 
 From the vote of thanks, two officers were excepted; Major 
 Muse, who was charged with cowardice, and Washington's unfor- 
 tunate master of fence and blundering interpreter, Jacob Van 
 Braam, who was accused of treachery, in purposely misinterpret- 
 ing the articles of capitulation. 
 
 In concluding this chapter, we will anticipate dates to record the 
 fortunes of the half-king after his withdrawal from the camp. He 
 and several of his warriors, with their wives and children, retreated 
 to Aughquick, in the back part of Pennsylvania, where George 
 Croghan had an agency, and was allowed money from time to 
 time for the maintenance of Indian allies ; he expressed himself 
 perfectly disgusted with the white man's mode of warfare. The 
 French, he said, were cowards ; the English, fools. Washington 
 was a good man, but wanted experience: he would not take advice 
 of the Indians, and was always driving them to fight according to 
 
I754-] FORT CUMBERLAND. 6l 
 
 his own notions. For this reason he (the half-king) had carried 
 off his wife and children to a place of safety. 
 
 After a time the chieftain fell dangerously ill, and a conjurer or 
 "medicine man" was summoned to inquire into the cause or 
 nature of his malady. He gave it as his opinion that the French 
 had bewitched him, in revenge for the great blow he had struck 
 them in the affair of Jumonville ; for the Indians gave him the 
 whole credit of that success, he having sent round the French 
 scalps as trophies. In the opinion of the conjurer all the friends of 
 the chieftain concurred, and on his death, which took place shortly 
 afterward, there was great lamentation, mingled with threats of 
 immediate vengeance. Early in August Washington rejoined his 
 regiment, which had arrived at Alexandria by the way of Win- 
 chester. Letters from Governor Dinwiddle urged him to recruit it 
 to the former number of three hundred men, and join Colonel 
 Innes at Wills' Creek, where that officer was stationed with 
 Mackay's independent company of South Carolinians, and two 
 independent companies from New York ; and had been employed 
 in erecting a work to serve as a frontier post and rallying point ; 
 which work received the name of Fort Cumberland, in honor of 
 the Duke of Cumberland, captain-general of the British army. 
 
 In the month of October the House of Burgesses made a grant of 
 twenty thousand pounds for the pubhc service ; and ten thousand 
 more were sent out from England, beside a supply of fire- 
 arms. The governor now applied himself to military matters with 
 renewed spirit ; increased the actual force to ten companies ; and, 
 as there had been difficulties among the different Idnds of troops 
 with regard to precedence, he reduced them all to independent 
 companies ; so that there would be no officer in a Virginian regi- 
 ment above the rank of captain. 
 
 This shrewd measure, upon which Dinwiddic secretly prided him- 
 self as calculated to put an end to the difficulties in question, im- 
 mediately drove Washington out of the service ; considering it de- 
 rogatory to his character to accept a lower commission than that 
 under which his conduct had gained him a vote of thanks from the 
 Legislature. 
 
 Governor Sharpe, of Maryland, appointed by the king com- 
 mand-in-chief of all the forces engaged against the French, sought 
 to secure his valuable services, and authorized Colonel Fitzhugh, 
 whom he had placed in temporary command of the army, to write 
 to him to that effect. The reply of Washington (15th Nov.) is full 
 of dignity and spirit, and shows how deeply he felt his military deg- 
 radation. 
 
 "You make mention," says he, " of my continuing in the ser- 
 vice and retaining my colonel's commission. This idea has filled 
 me with surprise ; for if you think me capable of holding a com- 
 mission that has neither rank nor emolument annexed to it, you 
 must maintain a very contemptible opinion of my weakness, and be- 
 lieve me more empty than the commission itself." After intimat- 
 ing a suspicion that the project of reducing the regiment into inde- 
 pendent companies, and thereby throwing out the higher officers, 
 
62 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 was "generated and hatched at Wills' Creek," — in other words, 
 was an expedient of Governor Dinwiddle, instead of being a per- 
 emptory order from England, he adds, "Ingenuous treatment and 
 plain dealing I at least expected. It is to be hoped the project will 
 answer ; it shall meet with my acquiescence in everything except 
 personal services. I herewith inclose Governor Sharpe's letter, 
 which I beg you will return to him with my acknowledgments for 
 the favor he intended me. Assure him, sir, as you truly may, 0f 
 my reluctance to quit the service, and the pleasure I should have 
 received in attending his fortunes. Inform him, also, that it was to 
 obey the call of honor and the advice of my friends that I declined 
 it, and not to gratify any desire I had to leave the military line. 
 My feelings are strongly bent to arms." 
 
 Having resigned his commission, and disengaged himself from 
 public affairs, Washington's first care was to visit his mother, in- 
 quire into the state of domestic concerns, and attend to the welfare 
 of his brothers and sisters. In these matters he was ever his 
 mother's adjunct and counselor, discharging faithfully the duties of 
 an eldest son, who should consider himself a second father to the 
 family. 
 
 He now took up his abode at Mount Vernon, and prepared to en- 
 gage in those agricultural pursuits, for which, even in his youthful 
 days, he had as keen a relish as for the profession of arms. Scarcely 
 had he entered upon his rural occupations, however, when the ser- 
 vice of his country once more called him to the field. 
 
 The disastrous affair at the Great Meadows, and the other acts of 
 French hostility on the Ohio, had roused the attention of the Brit- 
 ish ministry. Their ambassador at Paris was instructed to com- 
 plain of these violations of the peace. The court of Versailles amused 
 him with general assurances of amity, and a strict adherence to 
 treaties. Their ambassador at the court of St. James, the Marquis 
 de Mirepoix, on the faith of his instructions, gave the same assur- 
 ances. In the mean time, however, French ships were fitted out, 
 and troops embarked, to carry out the schemes of the government 
 in America. So profound was the dissimulation of the court of 
 Versailles, that even their own ambassador is said to have been kept 
 in ignorance of their real designs, and of the hostile game they were 
 playing, while he was exerting himself in good faith, to lull the sus- 
 picions of England, and maintain the international peace. When 
 his eyes, however, were opened, he returned indignantly to France, 
 and upraided the cabinet with the duplicity of which he had been 
 made the unconscious instrument. 
 
 The British government now prepared for military operations in ' 
 America ; none of them professedly aggressive, but rather to resist 
 and counteract aggressions. 
 
 The Duke of Cumberland, captain-general of the British army, 
 had the organization of this campaign ; and through his patronage, 
 Major-General Edward Braddock was intrusted with the execution 
 of it, being appointed generalissimo of all the forces in the 
 colonies. 
 ^ Braddock was a veteran in service, and had been upward of 
 
1755-] EXCITEMENT OF WASHINGTON. 63 
 
 forty years in the guards, that school of exact discipline and tech- 
 nical punctilio. Cumberland, who held a commission in the guards, 
 and was bigoted to its routine, may have considered Braddock 
 fitted, by his skill and preciseness as a tactician, for a command 
 in a new country, inexperienced in military science, to bring its 
 raw levies into order, and to settle those questions of rank and eti- 
 quette apt to arise where regular and provincial troops are to act 
 together. 
 
 The result proved the error of such an opinion. Braddock was 
 a brave and experienced officer ; but his experience was that of 
 routine, and rendered him pragmatical and obstinate, impatient of 
 novel expedients " not kiicl down in the books," but dictated by 
 emergencies in a "new country," and his military precision, which 
 would have been brilHant on parade, was a constant obstacle to 
 alert action in the wilderness. General Braddock landed on the 
 20th of February at Hampton in Virginia, and proceeded to Wil- 
 liamsburg to consult with Governor Dinwiddie. Shortly afterward 
 he was joined there by Commodore Keppel, whose squadron of 
 two ships-of-war, and several transports, had anchored in the 
 Chesapeake. On board of these ships were two prime regiments 
 of about five hundred men each ; one commanded by Sir Peter 
 Halket, the other by Colonel Dunbar ; together with a train of 
 artillery, and the necessary munitions of war. The regiments were 
 to be augmented to seven hundred men, each by men selected by 
 Sir John St. Clair from Virginia companies recently raised. 
 
 Alexandria was fixed upon as the place where the troops should 
 disembark and encamp. The ships were accordingly ordered up 
 to that place, and the levies directed to repair thither. 
 
 The din and stir of warlike preparation disturbed the quiet of 
 Mount Vernon. Washington looked down from his rural retreat 
 upon the ships of war and transports, as they passed up the 
 Potomac, with the array of arms gleaming along their decks. The 
 booming of cannon echoed among his groves. Alexandria was 
 but a few miles distant. Occasionally he mounted his horse, and 
 rode to that place ; it was like a garrisoned town, teeming with 
 troops, and resounding with the drum and fife. A brilliant cam- 
 paign was about to open under the auspices of an experienced 
 general, and with all the means and appurtenances of European 
 warfare. How different from the starveling expeditions he had 
 hitherto been doomed to conduct! What an opportunity to efface 
 the memory of his recent disaster! All his thoughts of rural life 
 were put to flight. The military part of his character was again in 
 the ascendant ; his great desire was to join the expedition as a vol- 
 unteer. 
 
 It was reported to General Braddock. The latter was apprised 
 by Governor Dinwiddie and others, of Washington's personal 
 merits, his knowledge of the country, and his experience in 
 frontier service. The consequence was, a letter from Captain 
 Robert Orme, one of Braddock's aides-de-camp, written by the 
 general's order, inviting Washington to join his staff; the letter 
 concluded with frank and cordial expressions of esteem on the 
 
64 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 part of Orme, which were warmly reciprocated, and laid the 
 foundation of a soldierlike friendship between them. 
 
 A volunteer situation on the staff of General Braddock offered 
 no emolument nor command, and would be attended with con- 
 siderable expense, beside a sacrifice of his private interests, having 
 no person in whom he had confidence, to take charge of his affairs 
 in his absence ; still he did not hesitate a moment to accept the 
 invitation. In the position offered to him, all the questions of 
 inihtary rank which had hitherto annoyed him, would be obviated. 
 He could indulge his passion for arms without any sacrifice of 
 dignity, and he looked forward with high anticipation to an 
 opportunity of acquiring mihtary experience in a corps well orga- 
 nized, and thoroughly disciplined, and in the family of a com- 
 mander of acknowledged skill as a tactician. 
 
 His mother heard with concern of another projected expedition 
 in the wilderness. HuriTing to Mount Vernon, she entreated him 
 not again to expose himself to the hardships and perils of these 
 frontier campaigns. She doubtless felt the value of his presence 
 at home, to manage and protect the complicated interests of the 
 domestic connection, and watched with solicitude over his adven- 
 turous campaigning, where so much family welfare was at hazard. 
 However much a mother's pride may have been gratified by his 
 early advancement and renown, she had rejoiced on his return to 
 the safer walks of peaceful life. She was thoroughly practical and 
 prosaic in her notions ; and not to be dazzled by military glory. 
 The passion for arms which mingled with the more sober elements 
 of Washington's character, would seem to have been inherited 
 from his father's side of the house ; it was, in fact, the old chival- 
 rous spirit of the De Wessyngtons. 
 
 His mother had once prevented him from entering the navy, 
 when a gallant frigate was at hand, anchored in the waters of the 
 Potomac ; with all his deference for her, which he retained through 
 life, he could not resist the appeal to his martial sympathies, which 
 called him to the head-quarters of General Braddock at Alexandria. 
 
 His arrival was hailed by his young associates. Captains Orme 
 and Morris, the general's aides-de-camp, who at once received him 
 into frank companionship, and a cordial intimacy commenced 
 between them, that continued throughout the campaign. 
 
 He experienced a courteous reception from the general, who 
 expressed in flattering terms the impression he had received of his 
 merits. Washington soon appreciated the character of the gen- 
 eral. He found him stately and somewhat haughty, exact in 
 matters of military etiquette and disciphne, positive in giving an 
 opinion, and obstinate in maintaining it; but of an honorable and 
 generous, though somewhat irritable nature. 
 
 Niagara and Crown Point were to be attacked about the same 
 time with Fort Duquesne, the former by Governor Shirley, with 
 his own and Sir William Pepperell's regiments, and some New 
 York companies; the latter by Colonel William Johnson, sole 
 manager and director of Indian affairs; a personage worthy of 
 especial note. 
 
I755-] CAAfP A T FOR T CUMBERLAND. 6$ 
 
 He was a native of Ireland, and had come out to this country in 
 1734, to manage the landed estates owned by his uncle, Com- 
 modore Sir Peter Warren, in the Mohawk country. 
 
 He had resided ever since in the vicinity of the Mohawk River, 
 in the province of New York. By his agency, and his dealings 
 with the native tribes, he had acquired great wealth, and become a 
 kind of potentate in the Indian country. His influence over the 
 Six Nations was said to be unbounded ; and it was principally with 
 the aid of a large force of their warriors that it was expected he 
 would accomplish his part of the campaign. The end of June, 
 "nearly in July," was fixed upon as the time when the several 
 attacks upon Forts Duquesne, Niagara, and Crown Point, should 
 be carried into execution, and Braddock anticipated an easy 
 accomplishment of his plans. 
 
 The expulsion of the French from the lands wrongfully held by 
 them in Nova Scotia, was to be assigned to Colonel Lawrence, 
 Lieutenant-Governor of that province; we will briefly add, in 
 anticipation, that it was effected by him, with the aid of troops from 
 Massachusetts and elsewhere, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Monck- 
 ton. 
 
 Washington had looked with wonder and dismay at the huge 
 paraphernaha of war, and the world of superfluities to be trans- 
 ported across the mountains, recollecting the difficulties he ha* 
 experienced in getting over them with his nine swivels and scanty 
 supplies. " If our march is to be regulated by the slow movements 
 of the train," said he, "it will be tedious, very tedious, indeed." 
 His predictions excited a sarcastic smile in Braddock, as betraying 
 the limited notions of a young provincial officer, little acquainted 
 with the march of armies. 
 
 General Braddock set out from Alexandria on the 20th of April. 
 Washington remained behind a few days to arrange his affairs, and 
 then rejoined him at Fredericktown, in Maryland, where, on the 
 loth of May, he was proclaimed one of the general's aides-de-canip. 
 The troubles of Braddock had already commenced. The Virgin- 
 ian contractors failed to fulfill their engagements; of all the immense 
 means of transportation so confidently promised, but fifteen wagons 
 and a hundred draft-horses had arrived, and there was no prospect 
 of more. There was equal disappointment in provisions, both as to 
 quantity and quality ; and he had to send round the country to buy 
 cattle for the subsistence of the troops. 
 
 Fortunately, while the general was venting his spleen in anathe- 
 mas against army contractors, Benjamin Franklin arrived at Fred- 
 ericktown. That eminent man, then about forty-nine years of age, 
 had been for many years member of the Pennsylvania Assembly, 
 and was now postmaster-general for America. The Assembly 
 understood that Braddock was incensed against them, supposing 
 them adverse to the ser\ace of the war. They had procured Frank- 
 lin to wait upon him, not as if sent by them, but as if he came in 
 his capacity of postmaster-general, to arrange for the sure and 
 speedy transmission of dispatches between the commander-in-chief 
 and the governors of the provinces. 
 3 
 
66 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 He was well received, and became a daily guest at the general's 
 table. In his autobiography, he gives us an instance of the blind 
 confidence and fatal prejudices by which Braddock was deluded 
 throughout this expedition. " Jn conversation with him one day," 
 writes Franklin, "he was giving me some account of his intended 
 progress. 'After taking Fort Duquesne,' said he, ' I am to proceed 
 to Niagara; and, having taken that, to Frontenac, if the season will 
 allow time; and I suppose it will, for Duquesne can hardly detain 
 me above three or four days : and then I can see nothing that can 
 obstruct my march to Niagara.' 
 
 "Having before revolved in my mind," continues Franklin, "the 
 long line his army must make in their march by a very narrow 
 road, to be cut for them through the woods and bushes, and also 
 what I had heard of a former defeat of fifteen hundred French, 
 who invaded the Illinois country, I had conceived somedoubtsand 
 some fears for the event of the campaign ; but I ventured only to 
 say, 'To be sure, sir, if you arrive well before Duquesne Avith these 
 fine troops, so well provided with artillery, the fort, though com- 
 pletely fortified, and assisted with a very strong garrison, can prob- 
 ably make but a short resistance. The only danger I apprehend 
 of obstruction to your march, is from the ambuscades of the Indians, 
 who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying and executing 
 Aem; and the slender line, nearly four miles long, which your 
 afmy must make, may expose it to be attacked by surprise on its 
 flanks, and to be cut like thread into several pieces, which, from 
 their distance, cannot come up in time to support one another.' 
 
 " He smiled at my ignorance, and replied : 'These savages may 
 indeed be a formidable enemy to raw American mihtia, but upon 
 the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they 
 should make an impression.' I was conscious of an impropriety in 
 my disputing with a military man in matters of his profession, and 
 said no more." 
 
 As the whole delay of the army was caused by the want of con- 
 veyances, Frankhn observed one day to the general that it was a 
 pity the troops had not been landed in Pennsylvania, where almost 
 every farmer had his wagon. "Then, sir," replied Braddock, 
 " you who are a man of interest there can probably procure them 
 for me, and I beg you will." Franklin consented. An instrument 
 in writing was drawn up, empowering him to contract for one hun- 
 dred and fifty wagons, with four horses to each wagon, and fifteen 
 hundred saddle or packhorses for the service of his majesty's forces, 
 to be at Wills' Creek on or before the 20th of May, and he promptly 
 departed for Lancaster to execute the commission. 
 
 After his departure, Braddock, attended by his staff, and his 
 guard of light horse, set off for Wills' Creek by the way of Win- 
 chester, the road along the north side of the Potomac not being yet 
 made. "This gave him," writes Washington, "a good oppor- 
 tunity to see the absurdity of the route, and of damning it very 
 heartily." 
 
 Three of Washington's horses were knocked up before they 
 reached Winchester, and he had to purchase others. This was a 
 
I755-] CAMP A T FOR T CUMBERLAND. 6/ 
 
 severe drain of his campaigning purse ; fortunately he was in the 
 neighborhood of Greenway Court, and was enabled to replenish it 
 by a loan from his old friend Lord P^airfax. 
 
 The discomforts of the rough road were increased with the gen- 
 eral, by his traveling with some degree of state in a chariot which 
 he had purchased of Governor Sharpe. In this he dashed by Dun- 
 bar's division of the troops, which he overtook near Wills' Creek; 
 his body guard of light horse galloping on each side of his chariot, 
 and his staff accompanying him; the drums beating the Grenadier's 
 march as he passed. In this style, too, he arrived at Fort Cumber- 
 land, amid a thundering salute of seventeen guns. 
 
 By this time the general discovered that he was not in a region 
 fitted for such display, and his traveling chariot was abandoned at 
 Fort Cumberland; otherwise it would soon have become a wreck 
 among the mountains beyond. 
 
 By the 19th of May, the forces were assembled at Fort Cumber- 
 land. The two royal regiments, originally one thousand strong, 
 now increased to fourteen hundred, by men chosen from the Mary- 
 land and Virginia levies. Two provincial companies of carpenters, 
 or pioneers, thirty men each, with subalterns and captains. A 
 company of guides, composed of a captain, two aids, and ten men. 
 The troop of Virginia light horse, commanded by Captain Stewart; 
 the detachment of thirty sailors with their officers, and the remnants 
 of two independent companies from New York, one of which was 
 commanded by Captain Horatio Gates, of whom we shall have to 
 speak much hereafter, in the course of this biography. 
 
 At Fort Cumberland, Washington had an opportunity of seeing 
 a force encamped according to the plan approved of by the council 
 of war; and military tactics, enforced with all the precision of a 
 martinet. The roll of each company was called over morning, 
 noon, and night. There was strict examination of arms and 
 accouterments; the commanding officer of each company being 
 answerable for their being kept in good order. The general was 
 very particular in regard to the appearance and drill of the Virginia 
 recruits and companies, whom he had put under the rigorous dis- 
 cipline of Ensign Allen. "They performed their evolutions and 
 firings, as well as could be expected," writes Captain Orme, "but 
 their languid, spiritless, and unsoldier-like appearance, considered 
 with the lowness and ignorance of most of their officers, gave little 
 hopes of their future good behavior." He doubtless echoed the 
 opinion of the general; how completely were both to be unde- 
 ceived as to their estimate of these troops! 
 
 The general held a levee in his tent every morning, from ten to 
 eleven. He was strict as to the morals of the camp. Drunken- 
 ness was severely punished. A soldier convicted of theft was sen- 
 tenced to receive one thousand lashes, and to be drummed out of 
 his regiment. Part of the first part of the sentence was remitted. 
 Divine service was performed every Sunday, at the head of the 
 colors of each regiment, by the chaplain. There was the funeral 
 of a captain who died at this encampment. A captain's guard 
 marched before the corpse, the captain of it in the rear, the firelocks 
 
68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 reversed, the drums beating the dead march. When near the grave 
 the guard formed two lines, facing each other ; rested on their arms, 
 muzzles downward, and leaned their faces on the butts. The 
 corpse was carried between them, the sword and sash on the coffin, 
 and the officers following two and two. After the chaplain of the 
 regiment had read the service, the guard fired three volleys over 
 the grave, and returned. 
 
 Braddock's camp, in a word, was a complete study for Wash- 
 ington, during the halt at Fort Cumberland, where he had an 
 opportunity of seeing military routine in its strictest forms. He 
 had a specimen, too, of convivial life in the camp, which the gen- 
 eral endeavored to maintain, even in the wilderness, keeping a 
 hospitable table ; for he is said to have been somewhat of a bon 
 vivant, and to have had with him "two good cooks, who could 
 make an excellent ragout out of a pair of boots, had they but 
 materials to toss them up with." 
 
 There was great detention at the fort, causedbythe want of forage 
 and supplies, the road not having been finished from Philadelphia. 
 Mr. Richard Peters, the secretary of Governor Morris, was in 
 camp, to attend to the matter. He had to bear the brunt of Brad- 
 dock's complaints. The general declared he -would not stir from 
 Wills* Creek until he had the governor's assurance that the road 
 would be opened in time. Mr. Peters requested guards to protect 
 the men while at work, from attacks by the Indians. Braddock 
 swore he would not furnish guards for the woodcutters, — "let 
 Pennsylvania do it!" He scoffed at the talk about danger from 
 Indians. Peters endeavored to make him sensible of the peril 
 which threatened him in this respect. Should an army of them, 
 led by French officers, beset him in his march, he would not be 
 able, with all his strength and military skill, to reach Fort Duquesne 
 without a body of rangers, as well on foot as horseback. The 
 general, however, "despised his observations." Still, guards had 
 ultimately to be provided, or the work on the road would have 
 been abandoned. 
 
 Braddock, in fact, was completely chagrined and disappointed 
 about the Indians. The Cherokees and Catawbas, whom Dinwid- 
 dle had given him reason to expect in such numbers, never 
 arrived. George Croghan reached the camp with but about fifty 
 warriors, whom he had brought from Aughquick. At the general's 
 request he sent a messenger to invite the Delawares and Shawnees 
 from the Ohio, who returned with two chiefs of the former tribe. 
 Among the sachems thus assembled were some of Washington's 
 former allies ; Scarooyadi, alias Monacatoocha, successor to the 
 half-king ; White Thunder, the keeper of the speech-belts, and 
 Silver Heels, so called, probably, from being swift of foot. 
 
 Notwithstanding his secret contempt for the Indians, Braddock, 
 agreeably to his instructions, treated them with great ceremony. 
 A grand council was held in his tent, where all his officers attended. 
 The chiefs, and all the warriors, came painted and decorated for war. 
 They were received with mihtary honors, the guards resting on 
 their fire-arms. The general made them a speech through 
 
1755-] INDIAN BEAUTIES. 69 
 
 his interpreter, expressing the grief of their father, the great king of 
 England, at the death of the half-king, and made them presents to 
 console them. They in return promised their aid as guides and 
 scouts, and declared eternal enmity to the French, following the 
 declaration with the war song, " making a terrible noise." 
 
 The general, to regale and astonish them, ordered all the 
 artillery to be fired, " the drums and fifes playing and beating the 
 point of war;" the fete ended by their feasting, in their own camp, 
 on a bullock which the general had given them, following up their 
 repast by dancing the war dance round a fire, to the sound of their 
 uncouth drums and rattles, "making night hideous," by howls and 
 yeUings. 
 
 "I have engaged between forty and fifty Indians from the fron- 
 tiers of your province to go over the mountains with me," writes 
 Braddock to Governor Morris, "and shall take Croghan and Mon- 
 tour into service." Croghan was, in effect, put in command of 
 the Indians, and a warrant given to him of captain. 
 
 For a time all went well. The Indians had their separate camp, 
 where they passed half the night singing, dancing, and howling. 
 The British were amused by their strange ceremonies, their sav- 
 age antics, and savage decorations. The Indians, on the other 
 hand, loitered by day about the English camp, fiercely painted and 
 arrayed, gazing with silent admiration at the parade of the troops, 
 their marchings and evolutions ; and delighted with the horse- 
 races, with which the young officers recreated themselves. 
 
 Unluckily the warriors had brought their families with them to 
 "Wills' Creek, and the women were even fonder than the men of 
 loitering about the British camp. They were not destitute of 
 attractions ; for the young squaws resemble the gypsies, having 
 seductive forms, small hands and feet, and soft voices. Among 
 those who visited the camp was one who no doubt passed for an 
 Indian princess. She was the daughter of the sachem. White 
 Thunder, and bore the dazzling name of Bright Lightning. The 
 charms of these wild-wood beauties were soon acknowledged. 
 "The squaws," writes Secretary Peters, "bring in money plenty; 
 the officers are scandalously fond of them." 
 
 The jealously of the warriors was aroused ; some of them 
 became furious. To prevent discord, the squaws were forbidden 
 to come into the British camp. This did not prevent their being 
 sought elsewhere. It was ultimately found necessary, for the sake 
 of quiet, to send Bright Lightning, with all the other women and 
 children, back to Aughquick. White Thunder, and several of the 
 warriors, accompanied them for their protection. 
 
 As to the three Delaware chiefs, they returned to the Ohio, 
 promising the general they would collect their warriors together, 
 and meet him on his march. They never kept their word. "These 
 people are villains, and always side with the strongest," says a 
 shrewd journalist of the expedition. 
 
 During the halt of the troops at Wills' Creek, Washington had 
 been sent to WiUiamsburg to bring on four thousand pounds for 
 the mihtary chest. He returned, after a fortnight's absence, 
 
70 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 escorted from Winchester by eight men, "which eight men," 
 writes he, "were two days assembling, but I beHeve would not 
 have been more than as many seconds dispersing if I had been 
 attacked." 
 
 At length the general was relieved from present perplexities 
 by the arrival of the horses and wagons which Franklin had under- 
 taken to procure. That eminent man, with his characteristic 
 promptness and unwearied exertions, and by his great personal 
 popularity, had obtained them from the reluctant Pennsylvania 
 farmers, being obliged to pledge his own responsibility for their 
 being fully remunerated. He performed this laborious task out of 
 pure zeal for the public service, neither expecting nor receiving 
 emolument ; and, in fact, experiencing subsequently great delay 
 and embarrassment before he was relieved from the pecuniary 
 responsibilities thus patriotically incurred. 
 
 The arrival of the conveyances put Braddock in good humor 
 with Pennsylvania. In a letter to Governor Morris, he alludes to 
 the threat of Sir John St. Clair, to go through that province with 
 a drawn sword in his hand. "He is ashamed of his having talked 
 to you in the manner he did." Still the general made Frankhn's 
 contract for wagons the sole instance in which he had not exper- 
 ienced deceit and villainy. 
 
 " I hope, however, in spite of all this," adds he, "that we shall 
 pass a merry Christmas together." 
 
 On the loth of June, Braddock set off from Fort Cumberland 
 with his aides-de-camp, and others of his staff, and his body guard 
 of light horse. Sir Peter Halket, with his brigade, had marched 
 three days previously ; and a detachment of six hundred men, 
 under the command of Colonel Chapman, and the supervision of 
 Sir John St. Clair, had been employed upward of ten days in cut- 
 ting down trees, removing rocks, and opening a road. 
 
 The march over the mountains proved, as Washington had fore- 
 told a "tremendous undertaking." It was with difficulty the 
 heavily laden wagons could be dragged up the steep and rugged 
 roads, newly made, or imperfectly repaired. Often they extended 
 for three or four miles in a straggling and broken line, with the sol- 
 diers so dispersed, in guarding them, that an attack on any side 
 •would have thrown the whole in confusion. It was the dreary 
 region of the great Savage Mountain, and the " Shades of Death " 
 that was again made to echo with the din of arms. 
 
 What outraged Washington's notion of the abstemious frugality 
 suitable to campaigning in "backwoods," was the great number 
 of horses and wagons required by the officers for the trans- 
 portation of their baggage, camp equipage, and a thousand articles 
 of artificial necessity. Simple himself in his tastes and habits, and 
 manfully indifferent to personal indulgences, he almost doubted 
 whether such sybarites in the camp could be efficient in the field. 
 
 By the time the advanced corps had struggled over two moun- 
 tains, and through the intervening forest, and reached (i6th June) 
 the Little Meadows, where Sir John St. Clair had made a tem- 
 porary camp, General Braddock had become aware of the differ- 
 
1 755-] CAPTAIN JACK AND HIS BAND. 71 
 
 ence between campaigning in a new country, or on the old well- 
 beaten battle-grounds of Europe. He now, of his own accord, 
 turned to Washington for advice, though it must have been a sore 
 trial to his pride to seek it of so young a man ; but he had by this 
 time sufficient proof of his sagacity, and his knowledge of the 
 frontier. 
 
 Thus unexpectedly called on, Washington gave his counsel with 
 becoming modesty, but with his accustomed clearness. There was 
 just now an opportunity to strike an effective blow at Fort 
 Duquesne, but it might be lost by delay. The garrison, according 
 to credible reports, was weak ; large reinforcements and supphes, 
 which were on their way, would be detained by the drought, 
 which rendered the river by which they must come low and unna- 
 vigable. The blow must be struck before they could arrive. He 
 advised the general, therefore, to divide his forces ; leave one 
 part to come on with the stores and baggage, and all the cumbrous 
 appurtenances of an army, and to throw himself in the advance 
 with the other part, composed of his choicest troops, lightened of 
 every thing superfluous that might impede a rapid march. 
 
 His advice was adopted. Twelve hundred men, selected out of 
 all the companies, and furnished with ten field-pieces, were to form 
 the first division, their provisions, and other necessaries, to be 
 carried on pack-horses. The second division, with all the stores, 
 munitions, and heavy baggage, was to be brought on by Colonel 
 Dunbar. 
 
 The least practicable part of the arrangement was with regard 
 to the officers of the advance. Washington had urged a retrench- 
 ment of their baggage and camp equipage, that as many of their 
 horses as possible might be used as pack-horses. Here was the 
 difficulty. Brought up, many of them, in fashionable and luxur- 
 ious life, or the loitering indulgence of country quarters, they were 
 so encumbered with what they considered indispensable neces- 
 saries, that out of two hundred and twelve horses generally appro- 
 priated to their use, not more than a dozen could be spared by 
 them for the public service. Washington, in his own case, acted 
 up to the advice he had given. He retained no more clothing and 
 effects with him than would about half fill a portmanteau, and 
 gave up his best steed ^ as a pack-horse — which he never heard 
 of afterward. 
 
 On the 19th of June Braddock's first division set out, with less 
 than thirty carriages, including those that transported ammunition 
 for the artillery, all strongly horsed. The Indians marched with 
 the advanced party. In the course of the day, Scarooyadi and 
 his son being at a small distance from the line of march, was sur- 
 rounded and taken by some French and Indians. His son escaped, 
 and brought intelligence to his warriors ; they hastened to rescue 
 or revenge him, but found him tied to a tree. The French had 
 been disposed to shoot him, but their savage allies declared they 
 would abandon them should they do so ; having some tie of 
 friendship or kindred with the chieftain, who thus rejoined the troops 
 unharmed. 
 
72 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Washington was disappointed in his anticipations of a rapid 
 march. The general, though he had adopted his advice in tlie 
 main, could not carry it out in detail. His military education was 
 in the way ; bigoted to the regular and elaborate tactics of Europe, 
 he could not stoop to the make-shift expedients of a new country, 
 where every difficulty is encountered and mastered in a rough-and- 
 ready style. " I found," said Washington, " that instead of push- 
 ing on with vigor, without regarding a little rough road, they were 
 halted to level every mole hill, and to erect bridges over every 
 brook, by which means we were four days in getting twelve miles." 
 
 For several days Washington had suffered from fever, accom- 
 panied by intense headache, and his illness increased in violence 
 to such a degree that he was unable to ride, and had to be con- 
 veyed for a part of the time in a covered wagon. His illness con- 
 tinued without intermission until the 23d, " when I was reheved," 
 says he, "by the general's absolutely ordering the physician to give 
 me Dr. James's powders; one of the most excellent medicines in 
 the world. It gave me immediate relief, and removed my fever 
 and other complaints in four days' time." 
 
 He was still unable to bear the jolting of the wagon, but it needed 
 another interposition of the kindly-intended authority of General 
 Braddock, to bring him to a halt at the great crossings of the You- 
 ghiogeny. There the general assigned him a guard, provided him 
 with necessaries, and requested him to remain, under care of his 
 physician. Dr. Craik, until the arrival of Colonel Dunbar's detach- 
 ment, which was two days' march in the rear; giving him his word 
 of honor that he should, at all events, be enabled to rejoin the main 
 division before it reached the French fort. 
 
 This kind solicitude on the part of Braddock shows the real esti- 
 mation in which he was held by that officer. Doctor Craik backed 
 the general's orders, by declaring that should Washington persevere 
 in his attempts to go on in the condition he then was, his life would 
 be in danger. Orme also joined his entreaties, and promised, if he 
 would remain, he would keep him informed by letter of every oc- 
 currence of moment. 
 
 Notwithstanding all the kind assurances of Braddock and his 
 aide-de-camp Orme, it was with gloomy feelings that Washington 
 saw the troops depart ; fearful he might not be able to rejoin them 
 in time for the attack upon the fort, which, he assured his brother 
 aide-de-camp, he would not miss for five hundred pounds. 
 
 Leaving Washington at the Youghiogeny, we will follow the 
 march of Braddock. In the course of the first day (June 24th), he 
 came to a deserted Indian camp; judging from the number of 
 wigwams, there must have been about one hundred and seventy 
 warriors. Some of the trees about it had been stripped, and 
 painted with threats, and bravadoes, and scurrilous taunts written 
 on them in the French language, showing that there were white 
 men with the savages. 
 
 The day's march passed by the Great Meadows and Fort Neces- 
 sity, the scene of Washington's capitulation. Several Indians were 
 seen hovering in the woods, and the light horse and Indian allies 
 
I755-] DESERTED INDIAN CAMP. 73 
 
 were sent out to surround them, but did not succeed. In crossing 
 a mountain beyond the Great Meadows, the carriages had to be 
 lowered with the assistance of the sailors, by means of tackle. The 
 camp for the night was about two miles beyond Fort Necessity. 
 Several French and Indians endeavored to reconnoiter it, but were 
 fired upon by the advanced sentinels. 
 
 The following day (26th) there was a laborious march of but four 
 miles, owing to the difficulties of the road. The evening halt was 
 at another deserted Indian camp, strongly posted on a high rock, 
 ■with a steep and narrow ascent; it had a spring in the middle, and 
 stood at the termination of the Indian path to the Monongahela. 
 By this pass the party had come which attacked Washington the 
 year before, in the Great Meadows. The Indians and French too, 
 who were hovering about the army, had just left this camp. The 
 fires they had left were yet burning. The French had inscribed 
 their names on some of the trees with insulting bravadoes, and the 
 Indians had designated in triumph the scalps they had taken two 
 days previously. A party was sent out with guides, to follow their 
 tracks and fall on them in the night, but again without success. 
 In fact, it was the Indian boast, that throughout this march of 
 Braddock, they saw him every day from the mountains, and ex- 
 pected to be able to shoot down his soldiers " like pigeons." 
 
 The march continued to be toilful and difficult ; on one day it 
 did not exceed two miles, having to cut a passage over a mountain. 
 In cleaning their guns the men were ordered to draw the charge, 
 instead of firing it off. No fire was to be lighted in front of the 
 pickets. At night the men were to take their arms into the tents 
 with them. 
 
 Further on the precautions became still greater. On the advanced 
 pickets the men were in two divisions, relieving each other every 
 two hours. Half remained on guard with fixed bayonets, the other 
 half lay down by their arms. The picket sentinels were doubled. 
 
 On the 4th of July they encamped at Thickety Run. The coun- 
 try was less mountainous and rocky, and the woods, consisting 
 chiefly of white pine, were more open. The general now supposed 
 himself to be within thirty miles of Fort Duquesne. Ever since 
 his halt at the deserted camp on the rock beyond the Great 
 Meadows, he had endeavored to prevail upon the Croghan Indians 
 to scout in the direction of the fort, and bring him intelligence, but 
 never could succeed. They had probably been deterred by the 
 number of French and Indian tracks, and by the recent capture 
 of Scarooyadi. This day, however, two consented to reconnoiter ; 
 and shortly after their departure, Christopher Gist, the resolute 
 pioneer, who acted as guide to the general, likewise set off as a 
 scout. 
 
 The Indians returned on the 6th. They had been close to Fort 
 Duquesne. There were no additional works there; they saw a 
 few boats under the fort, and one with a white flag coming down 
 the Ohio ; but there were few men to be seen, and few tracks of 
 any. They came upon an unfortunate officer, shooting within half 
 a mile of the fort, and brought a scalp as a trophy of his fate. 
 
74 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 None of the passes between the camp and fort were occupied ; they 
 believed there were few men abroad reconnoitering. 
 
 Gist returned soon after them. His account corroborated theirs ; 
 but he had seen a smoke in a valley between the camp and the 
 fort, made probably by some scouting party. He had intended to 
 prowl about the fort at night, but had been discovered and pursued 
 by two Indians, and narrowly escaped with his Hfe. 
 
 On the same day, during the march, three or four men loitering 
 in the rear of the grenadiers were killed and scalped. Several of 
 the grenadiers set off to take revenge. They came upon a party 
 of Indians, who held up boughs and grounded their arms, the con- 
 certed sign of amity. Not perceiving or understanding it, the gren- 
 adiers fired upon them, and one fell. It proved to be the son of 
 Scarooyadi. Aware too late of their error, the grenadiers brought 
 the body to the camp. The conduct of Braddock was admirable 
 on the occasion. He sent for the father and the other Indians, and 
 condoled with them on the lamentable occurrence ; making them 
 the customary presents of expiation. But what was more to the 
 point, he caused the youth to be buried with the honors of war ; at 
 his request the officers attended the funeral, and a volley was fired 
 over the grave. 
 
 These soldierlike tributes of respect to the deceased, and sym- 
 pathy with the survivors, soothed the feelings and gratified the 
 pride of the father, and attached him more firmly to the service. 
 We are glad to record an anecdote so contrary to the general con- 
 tempt for the Indians with which Braddock stands charged. It 
 speaks well for the real kindness of his heart. 
 
 We will return now to Washington in his sick encampment on 
 the banks of the Youghiogeny, where he was left repining at the 
 departure of the troops without him. To add to his annoyances, 
 his servant, John Alton, a faithful Welshman, was taken ill with 
 the same malady, and unable to render him any services. 
 Letters from his fellow aides-de-camp showed him the kind 
 solicitude that was felt concerning him. At the general's desire, 
 Captain Morris wrote to him, informing him of their intended 
 halts. 
 
 "It is the desire of every individual in the family," adds he, 
 "and the general's positive commands to you, not to stir, but by 
 the advice of the person [Dr. Craik] under whose care you are, till 
 you are better, which we all hope will be very soon." 
 
 He now considered himself sufficiently recovered to rejoin the 
 troops, and his only anxiety was that he should not be able to do 
 it in time for the great blow. He was rejoiced, therefore, on the 
 3d of July, by the arrival of an advanced party of one hundred 
 men convoying provisions. Being still too weak to mount his horse, 
 he set off with the escort in a covered wagon ; and after a most 
 fatiguing journey, over mountain and through forest, reached Brad- 
 dock's camp on the 8th of July. It was on the east side of the 
 Monongahela, about two miles from the river, in the neighborhood 
 of the town of Queen Aliquippa, and about fifteen miles from Fort 
 Duquesne. 
 
I755-] CROSSING THE FORDS. 75 
 
 In consequence of adhering to technical rules and military forms. 
 General Braddock had consumed a month in marching little more 
 than a hundred miles. The tardiness of his progress was regarded 
 with surprise and impatience even in Europe ; where his patron, the 
 Duke of Brunswick, was watching the events of the campaign he 
 had planned. "The Duke," writes Horace Walpole, "is much 
 dissatisfied at the slowness of General Braddock, who does not 
 march as if he was at all impatient to be scalped.'' The insinua- 
 tion of the satirical wit was unmerited. Braddock was a stranger 
 to fear ; but in his movements he was fettered by system. 
 
 Washington was warmly received on his arrival, especially by his 
 fellow aides-de-camp, Morris and Orme. He was just in time, for 
 the attack upon Fort Duquesne was to be made on the following 
 day. The neighboring country had been reconnoitered to deter- 
 mine upon a plan of attack. The fort stood on the same side of 
 the Monongahela with the camp; but there was a narrow pass 
 between them of about two miles, with the river on the left and a very 
 high mountain on the right, and in its present state quite impassable 
 for carriages. The route determined on was to cross the Monon- 
 gahela by a ford immediately opposite to the camp ; proceed along 
 the west' bank of the river, for about five miles, then recross by 
 another ford to the eastern side, and push on to the fort. The river 
 at these fords was shallow, and the banks were not steep. 
 
 According to the plan of arrangement, Lieutenant-Colonel Gage, 
 with the advance, was to cross the river before daybreak, march 
 to the second ford, and recrossing there, take post to secure the 
 passage of the main force. The advance was to be composed of 
 two companies of grenadiers, one hundred and sixty infantry, 
 the independent company of Captain Horatio Gates, and two six- 
 pounders. 
 
 Washington, who had already seen enough of regular troops to 
 doubt their infallibiUty in wild bush-fighting, and who knew the 
 dangerous nature of the ground they were to traverse, ventured to 
 suggest, that on the following day the Virginia rangers, being 
 accustomed to the country and to Indian warfare, might be thrown 
 in the advance. The proposition drew an angry reply from the 
 general, indignant, very probably, that a young provincial officer 
 should presume to school a veteran like himself. 
 
 Early next morning (July 9th), before daylight. Colonel Gage 
 crossed with the advance. He was followed, at some distance, by 
 Sir John St. Clair, quartermaster-general, with a working party of 
 two hundred and fifty men, to make roads for the artillery and bag- 
 gage. They had with them their wagons of tools, and two six- 
 pounders. A party of about thirty savages rushed out of the woods 
 as Colonel Gage advanced, but were put to flight before they had 
 done any harm. 
 
 By sunrise the main body turned out in full uniform. At the 
 beating of the general, their arms, which had been cleaned the 
 night before, were charged with fresh cartridges. The officers 
 were perfectly equipped. All looked as if arrayed for a fete, 
 rather than a battle. Washington, who was still weak and unwell. 
 
76 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 mounted his horse, and joined the staff of the general, who was 
 scrutinizing everything with the eye of a martinet. As it was sup- 
 posed the enemy would be on the watch for the crossing of the 
 troops, it had been agreed that they should do it in the greatest 
 order, with bayonets fixed, colors flying, and drums and fifes beat- 
 ing and playing. They accordingly made a gallant appearance as 
 they forded the Monongahela, and wound along its banks, and 
 through the open forests, gleaming and glittering in morning sun- 
 shine, and stepping buoyantly to the Grenadier's March. 
 
 Washington, with his keen and youthful relish for military affairs, 
 was delighted with their perfect order and equipment, so different 
 from the rough bush-fighters, to which he had been accustomed. 
 Roused to new life, he forgot his recent ailments, and broke forth 
 in expressions of enjoyment and admiration, as he rode in company 
 with his fellow aides-de-camp, Orme and Morris. Often in after 
 life, he used to speak of the effect upon him of the first sight of a 
 well-disciplined European army, marching in high confidence and 
 bright array, on the eve of a battle. 
 
 About noon they reached the second ford. Gage, with the 
 advance, was on the opposite side of the Monongahela, posted 
 according to orders ; but the river bank had not been sufficiently 
 sloped. The artillery and baggage drew up along the beach and 
 halted until one, when the second crossing took place, drums beat- 
 ing, fifes playing, and colors flying, as before. When all had 
 passed, there was again a halt close by a small stream called Fra- 
 zier's Run, until the general arranged the order of march. 
 
 First went the advance, under Gage, preceded by the engineers 
 and guides, and six light horsemen. 
 
 Then, Sir John St. Clair and the working party, with their wagons 
 and the two six-pounders. On each side were thrown out four 
 flanking parties. 
 
 Then, at some distance, the general was to follow with the main 
 body, the artillery and baggage preceded and flanked by light horse 
 and squads of infantry ; while the Virginian, and other provincial 
 troops, were to form the rear guard. 
 
 The ground before them was level until about half a mile from 
 the river, where a rising ground, covered with long grass, low 
 bushes, and scattered trees, sloped gently up to a range of hills. The 
 whole countr) , generally speaking, was a forest, with no clear open- 
 ing but the road, which was about twelve feet wide, and flanked by 
 two ravines, concealed by trees and thickets. 
 
 Had Braddock been schooled in the warfare of the woods, or 
 had he adopted the suggestions of Washington, which he rejected 
 so impatiently, he would have thrown out Indian scouts or Virginia 
 rangers in the advance, and on the flanks, to beat up the woods and 
 ravines ; but as has been sarcastically observed, he suffered his 
 troops to march forward through the centre of the plain, with merely 
 their usual guides and flanking parties, "as if in a review in St. 
 James' Park." 
 
 It was now near two o'clock. The advanced party and the 
 working party had crossed the plain and were ascending the rising 
 
1755] BUSH-FIGHTING. tj 
 
 ground. Braddock was about to follow with the main body and 
 had given the word to march, when he heard an excessively quick 
 and heavy firing in front. Washington, who was with the general, 
 surmised that the evil he had apprehended had come to pass. For 
 want of scouting parties ahead the advance parties were suddenly 
 and warmly attacked. Braddock ordered Lieutenant-Colonel Burton 
 to hasten to their assistance with the vanguard of the main body, 
 eight hundred strong. The residue, four hundred, were halted, 
 and posted to protect the artillery and baggage. 
 
 The firing continued, with feaiful yelling. There was a terrible 
 uproar. By the general's orders an aide-de-camp spurred forward 
 to bring him an account of the nature of the attack. Without 
 waiting for his return the general himself, finding the turmoil 
 increase, moved forward, leaving Sir Peter Halket with the com- 
 mand of the baggage. 
 
 The van of the advance had indeed been taken by surprise. It 
 was composed of two companies of carpenters and pioneers to cut 
 the road, and two flank companies of grenadiers to protect them. 
 Suddenly the engineer who preceded them to mark out the road 
 gave the alarm, "French and Indians!" A body of them was 
 approaching rapidly, cheered on by a Frenchman in gayly fringed 
 hunting-shirt, whose gorget showed him to be an officer. There 
 was sharp firing on both sides at first. Several of the enemy fell ; 
 among them their leader; but a mui-derous fire broke out from 
 among the trees and a ravine on the right, and the woods resounded 
 with unearthly whoops and yelHngs. The Indian rifle was at work, 
 leveled by unseen hands. Most of the grenadiers and many of the 
 pioneers were shot down. The survivors were driven in on the ad- 
 vance. 
 
 Gage ordered his men to fix bayonets and form in order of battle. 
 They did so in hurry and trepidation. He would have scaled a 
 hill on the right whence there was the severest firing. Not a platoon 
 would quit the line of march. They were more dismayed by the 
 yells than by the rifles of the unseen savages. The latter extended 
 themselves along the hill and in the ravines ; but their whereabouts 
 was only known by their demoniac cries and the puffs of smoke 
 from their rifles. The soldiers fired wherever they saw the smoke. 
 Their officers tried in vain to restrain them until they should see 
 their foe. All orders were unheeded ; in their fright they shot at 
 random, kiUing some of their own flanking parties, and of the van- 
 guard, as they came running in. The covert fire grew more intense. 
 In a short time most of the officers and many of the men of the ad- 
 vance were killed or wounded. Colonel Gage himself received a 
 wound. The advance fell back in dismay upon Sir John St Clair's 
 corps, which was equally dismayed. The cannon belonging to it 
 were deserted. 
 
 Colonel Burton had come up with the reinforcements, and was 
 forming his men to face the rising ground on the right, when both 
 of the advanced detachments fell back upon him, and all now was 
 confusion. 
 
 By this time the general was upon the ground. He tried to rally 
 
rS LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ;he men. " They would fight," they said, "if they could see their 
 memy ; but it Avas useless to fire at trees and buslies, and they 
 :ould not stand to be shot down by an invisible foe." 
 
 The colors were advanced in different places to separate the men 
 Df the two regiments. The general ordered the officers to form the 
 nen, tell them off into small divisions, and advance with them ; 
 Dut the soldiers could not be prevailed upon cither by threats or 
 Mitreaties. The Virginia troops, accustomed to the Indian mode of 
 ighting, scattered themselves, and took post behind trees, whence 
 ;hey could pick off the lurking foe. In this way they, in some de- 
 cree, protected the regulars. Washington advised General Brad- 
 dock to adopt the same plan with the regulars ; but he persisted in 
 forming them into platoons ; consequently they were cut down from 
 behind logs and trees as fast as they could advance. Several at- 
 :empted to take to the trees, without orders, but the general stormed 
 at them, called them cowards, and even struck them with the flat 
 3f his sword. Several of the Virginians, who had taken post and 
 kvere doing good service in this manner, were slain by the fire of 
 the regulars, directed wherever a smoke appeared among the 
 rees. 
 
 The officers behaved with consummate bravery ; and Washington 
 beheld with admiration those who, in camp or on the march, had 
 appeared to him to have an almost effeminate regard for personal 
 ease and convenience, now exposing themselves to imminent death, 
 with a courage that kindled with the thickening horrors. In the 
 v^ain hope of inspiriting the men to drive off the enemy from the 
 Hanks and regain the cannon, they would dash forward singly or 
 n groups. They were invariably shot down ; for the Indians 
 aimed from their coverts at every one on horseback, or who appeared 
 :o have command. Some were killed by random shot of their own 
 men, who, crowded in masses, fired with affrighted rapidity, but 
 without aim. Soldiers in the front ranks were killed by those in 
 the rear. Between friend and foe, the slaughter of the officers was 
 terrible. All this while the Avoods resounded with the unearthly 
 ^'ellings of the savages, and now and then one of them, hideously 
 painted, and ruffling with feathered crest, would rush forth to scalp 
 an officer who had fallen, or seize a horse galloping wildly without 
 1 rider. 
 
 Throughout this disastrous day, Washington distinguished him- 
 self by his courage and presence of mind. His brother aids, Orme 
 and Monis, were wounded and disabled early in the action, and 
 :he whole duty of carrying the orders of the general devolved on 
 tiim. His danger was imminent and incessant. He was in every 
 part of the field, a conspicuous mark for the murderous rifle. Two 
 :iorses were shot under him. Four bullets passed through his coat. 
 His escape without a wound was almost miraculous. Dr. Craik, 
 A'ho was on the field attending to the wounded, watched him with 
 anxiety as he rode about in the most exposed manner, and used to 
 ;ay that he expected every moment to see him fall. At one time he 
 .vas sent to the main body to bring the artillery into action. All 
 ;here was likewise in confusion; for the Indians had extended 
 
I755-] THE RETREAT. 79 
 
 themselves along the ravine so as to flank the reserve and carry 
 slaughter into the ranks. Sir Peter Halket had been shot down at 
 the head of his regiment. The men who should have served the 
 guns were paralyzed. Had they raked the ravines with grapeshot 
 the day might have been saved. In his ardor Washington sprang 
 from his horse ; wheeled and pointed a brass field-piece with his 
 own hand, and directed an effective discharge into the woods ; but 
 neither his effort nor example were of avail. The men could not be 
 kept to the guns. 
 
 Braddock still remained in the center of the field, in the desper- 
 ate hope of retrieving the fortunes of the day. The Virginia rangers, 
 who had been most efficient in covering his position, were nearly 
 all killed or wounded. His secretary, Shirley, had fallen by his 
 side. Many of his officers had been slain within his sight, and 
 many of his guard of Virginia light horse. Five horses had been 
 killed under him ; still he kept his ground, vainly endeavoring to 
 check the flight of his men, or at least to effect their retreat in good 
 order. At length a bullet passed through his right arm, and lodged 
 itself in his lungs. He fell from his horse, but was caught by Cap- 
 tain Stewart of the Virginia guards, who, with the assistance of 
 another American, and a servant, placed him in a tumbril. It was 
 with much difficulty they got him out of the field — in his despair he 
 desired to be left there. 
 
 The rout now became complete. Baggage, stores, artillery, 
 everything was abandoned. The wagoners took each a horse out 
 of his team, and fled. The officers were swept off with the men in 
 this headlong flight. It was rendered more precipitate by the 
 shouts and yells of the savages, numbers of whom rushed forth from 
 their coverts, and pursued the fugitives to the river side, killing 
 several as they dashed across in tumultuous confusion. Fortunately 
 for the latter, the victors gave up the pursuit in their eagerness to 
 collect the spoil. 
 
 The shattered army continued its flight after it had crossed the 
 Monongahela, a wretched wreck of the brilliant little force that had 
 recently gleamed along its banks, confident of victory. Out of 
 eighty-six officers, twenty-six had been killed, and thirty-six 
 wounded. The number of rank and file killed and wounded was 
 upward of seven hundred. The Virginia corps had suffered the 
 most ; one company had been almost annihilated, another, besides 
 those killed and wounded in the ranks, had lost all its officers even 
 to the corporal. 
 
 About a hundred men were brought to a halt about a quarter of 
 a mile from the ford of the river. Here was Braddock, with his 
 wounded aides-de-camp and some of his officers ; Dr. Craik dress- 
 ing h'lS wounds, and Washington attending him with faithful 
 assiduity. Braddock was still able to give orders, and had a faint 
 hope ot being able to keep possession of the ground until reinforced. 
 Most of the men were stationed in a very advantageous spot about 
 two hundred yards from the road; and Lieutenant-Colonel Burton 
 posted out small parties and sentinels. Before an hour had 
 elapsed most of the men had stolen oft'. Being thus deserted, 
 
8o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Braddock and his officers continued their retreat ; he would have 
 mounted his horse but was unable, and had to be carried by- 
 soldiers. Orme and Morris Avere placed on litters borne by horses. 
 They were subsequently joined by Colonel Gage with eighty men 
 whom he had rallied. 
 
 Washington, in the mean time, notwithstanding his weak state, 
 being found most efficient in frontier service, was sent to Colonel 
 Dunbar's camp, forty miles distant, with orders for him to hurry 
 forward provisions, hospital stores, and wagons for the wounded, 
 under the escort of two grenadier companies. It was a hard and a 
 melancholy ride throughout the night and the following day. The 
 tidings of the defeat preceded him, borne by the wagoners, who 
 had mounted their horses, on Braddock's fall, and fled from the 
 field of battle. They had arrived, haggard, at Dunbar's camp at 
 mid -day ; the Indians* yells still ringing in their ears. "All was 
 lost !" they cried. "Braddock was killed ! They had seen wounded 
 officers borne off from the field in bloody sheets! The troops were 
 all cut to pieces !" A panic fell upon the camp. The drums beat 
 to arms. Many of the soldiers, wagoners and attendants, took to 
 flight ; but most of them were forced back by the sentinels. 
 
 Washington arrived at the camp in the evening, and found the 
 agitation still prevailing. The orders which he brought were 
 executed during the night, and he was in the saddle early in the 
 morning accompanying the convoy of supplies. At Gist's planta- 
 tion, about thirteen miles off, he met Gage and his scanty force 
 escorting Braddock and his wounded officers. Captain Stewart 
 and a sad remnant of the Virginia light horse still accompanied the 
 general as his guard. The captain had been unremitting in his at- 
 tentions to him during the retreat. There was a halt of one day at 
 Dunbar's camp for the repose and relief of the wounded. On 
 the 13th they resumed their melancholy march, and that night 
 reached the Great Meadows. 
 
 The proud spirit of Braddock was broken by his defeat. He 
 remained silent the first evening after the battle, only ejaculating 
 at night, " who would have thought it! " He was equally silent 
 the following day; yet hope still seemed to linger in his breast, 
 from another ejaculation : " We shall better know how to deal with 
 them another time ! " 
 
 He was grateful for the attentions paid to him by Captain Stewart 
 and Washington, and more than once, it is said, expressed his 
 admiration of the gallantry displayed by the Virginians in the 
 action. It is said, moreover, that in his last moments, he apolo- 
 gized to Washington for the petulance with which he had rejected 
 his advice, and bequeathed to him his favorite charger and his 
 faithful servant. Bishop, who had helped to convey him from the 
 field. 
 
 Some of these facts, it is true, rest on tradition, yet we are will- 
 ing to believe them, as they impart a gleam of just and generous 
 feeling to his closing scene. He died on the night of the 13th, at 
 the Great Meadows, the place of Washington's discomfiture in the 
 previous year. His obsequies were performed before break of day. 
 
175 5. J TRIUMPH OF THE FRENCH, 8i 
 
 The chaplain having been wounded, Washington read the funeral 
 service. AH- was done in sadness, and without parade, so as not 
 to attract the attention of lurking savages, who might discover, 
 and outrage his grave. It is doubtful even whether a volley was 
 fired over it, that last mihtary honor which he had recently paid to the 
 remains of an Indian warrior. The place of his sepulture, how- 
 ever, is still known, and pointed out. 
 
 Reproach spared him not, even when in his grave. The failure 
 of the expedition was attributed both in England and America to 
 his obstinacy, his technical pedantry, and his mihtary conceit. He 
 had been continually warned to be on his guard against ambush 
 and surprise, but without avail. Had he taken the advice urged 
 on him by Washington and others to employ scouting parties of 
 Indians and rangers, he would never have been so signally sur- 
 prised and defeated. Still his dauntless conduct on the field of 
 battle shows him to have been a man of fearless spirit ; and he 
 was universally allowed to be an accomplished disciplinarian. His 
 melancholy end, too, disarms censure of its asperity. Whatever 
 may have been his faults and errors, he, in a manner, expiated 
 them by the hardest lot that can befall a brave soldier, ambi- 
 tious of renown — an unhonored grave in a strange land ; a 
 memory clouded by misfortune, and a name forever coupled with 
 defeat. 
 
 The obsequies of the unfortunate Braddock being finished, the 
 escort continued its retreat with the sick and wounded. Washing- 
 ton, assisted by Dr. Craik, Avatched with assiduity over his com- 
 rades, Orme and Morris, As the horses which bore their litters 
 were nearly knocked up, he dispatched messengers to the 
 commander of Fort Cumberland requesting that others might be 
 sent on, and that comfortable quarters might be prepared for 
 the reception of those officers. 
 
 On the 17th, the sad cavalcade reached the fort, and were 
 relieved from the incessant apprehension of pursuit. Here, too, 
 flying reports had preceded them, brought by fugitives from the 
 battle ; who, with the disposition usual in such cases to exaggerate, 
 had represented the whole army as massacred. Fearing these 
 reports might reach home, and affect his family, Washington 
 wrote to his mother, and his brother, John Augustine, apprising 
 them of his safety. "The Virginia troops," says he, in a letter to 
 his mother, "showed a good deal of bravery, and were nearly all 
 killed. * * -x- The dastardly behavior of those they called 
 regulars exposed all others, that were ordered to do their duty, to 
 almost certain death ; and, at last, in despite of all the efforts of 
 the officers to the contrary, they ran, as sheep pursued by dogs, 
 and it was impossible to rally them." 
 
 To his brother, he writes : "As I have heard, since my arrival at 
 this place, a circumstantial account of my death and dying speech, 
 I take this early opportunity of contradicting the first, and of assur- 
 ing you that I have not composed the latter. But, by the all-pow- 
 erful dispensations of Providence, I have* been protected beyond 
 all human probability, or expectation ; for I had four bullets through 
 
82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 my coat, and two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt, though 
 death was leveling my companions on every side of me ! 
 
 " We have been most scandalously beaten by a trifling body of 
 men, but fatigue and want of time prevent me from giving you any 
 of the details, until 1 have the happiness of seeing you at Mount 
 Vernon, which I now most earnestly wish for, since we are driven 
 in thus far. A feeble state of health obliges me to halt here for 
 two or three days to recover a little strength, that I may thereby 
 be enabled to proceed homeward with more ease." 
 
 Dunbar arrived shortly afterward with the remainder of the 
 army. No one seems to have shared more largely in the panic of 
 the vulgar than that officer. From the moment he received tidings 
 of the defeat, his camp became a scene of confusion. All the 
 ammunition, stores, and artillery were destroyed, to prevent, it was 
 said, their falling into the hands of the enemy ; but, as it was after- 
 ward alleged, to relieve the terror-stricken commander from all 
 incumbrances, and furnish him with more horses in his flight 
 toward the settlements. 
 
 At Cumberland his forces amounted to fifteen hundred effective 
 men ; enough for a brave stand to protect the frontier, and recover 
 some of the lost honor ; but he merely paused to leave the sick and 
 wounded under care of two Virginia and Maryland companies, 
 and some of the train, and then continued his hasty march, or 
 rather flight, through the country, not thinking himself safe, as 
 was sneeringly intimated, until he arrived in Philadelphia, where 
 the inhabitants could protect him. 
 
 The true reason why the enemy did not pursue the retreating 
 army was not known until some time afterward, and added to the 
 disgrace of the defeat. They were not the main force of the 
 French, but a mere detachment of 72 regulars, 146 Canadians, 
 and 637 Indians, 855 in all, led by Captain de Beaujeu. 
 De Contrecoeur, the commander of Fort Duquesne, had 
 received information, through his scouts, that the English, 
 three thousand strong, were within six leagues of his fort. 
 Despairing of making an effectual defence against such a 
 superior force, he was balancing in his mind whether to 
 abandon his fort without awaiting their arrival, or to capitulate 
 on honorable terms. In this dilemma Beaujeu prevailed on him 
 to let him sally forth with a detachment to form an ambush, and 
 give check to the enemy. De Beaujeu was to have taken post at 
 the river, and disputed the passage at the ford. For that purpose 
 he was huriying forwardwhendiscoveredby the pioneers of Gage's 
 advance party. He was a gallant officer, and fell at the begin- 
 ning of the fight. The whole number of killed and wounded of 
 French and Indians, did not exceed seventy. 
 
 Such was the scanty force which the imagination of the panic- 
 sticken army had magnified into a great host, and from which they 
 had field in breathless terror, abandoning the whole frontier. No 
 one could be more surprised than the French commander himself, 
 when the ambuscading party returned in triumph with a long train 
 of pack-horses laden with booty, the savages uncouthly clad in 
 
1755-] COST OF CAMPAIGNING. 83 
 
 the garments of the slain, grenadier caps, officers' gold-laced coats, 
 and glittering epaulets ; flourishing swords and sabers, or firing 
 off muskets, and uttering fiendlike yells of victory. But when De 
 Contrecoeur was informed of the utter rout and destruction of the 
 much dreaded British army, his joy was complete. He ordered 
 the guns of the fort to be fired in triumph, and sent out troops in 
 pursuit of the fugitive. 
 
 The affair of Braddock remains a memorable event in American 
 history, and has been characterized as "the most extraordinary 
 victory ever obtained, and the farthest flight ever made." It 
 struck a fatal blow to the deference for British prowess, which once 
 amounted almost to bigotry, throughout the provinces. " This 
 whole transaction," observes Frankfin, in his auto-biography, 
 "gave us the first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess 
 of British regular troops had not been well founded." 
 
 Washington arrived at Mount Vernon on the 26th of July, still 
 in feeble condition from his long illness. His campaigning, thus far, 
 had trenched upon his private fortune, and impaired one of the best 
 of constitutions. 
 
 In a letter to his brother Augustine, then a member of Assembly 
 at Wilhamsburg, he casts up the result of his frontier experience. 
 
 "I was employed," writes he, "to go a journey in the winter, 
 when I believe few or none would have undertaken it, and what 
 did I get by it? — my expenses borne ! I was then appointed, with 
 trifling pay, to conduct a handful of men to the Ohio. What did I 
 get by that? Why, after putting myself to a considerable expense 
 in equipping and providing necessaries for the campaign, I went 
 out, was soundly beaten, and lost all ! Came in, and had my com- 
 mission taken from me ; or, in other words, my command reduced, 
 under pretence of an order from home (England). I then went 
 out a volunteer with General Braddock, and lost all my horses, and 
 many other things. But this being a voluntary act, I ought not to 
 have mentioned it ; nor should I have done it. were it not to show 
 that I have been on thelosingorder ever since I entered the service, 
 which is now nearly two years." 
 
 What a striking lesson is furnished by this brief summaiy ! How 
 little was he aware of the vast advantages he was acquiring in this 
 school of bitter experience! "In the hand of heaven he stood," 
 to be shaped and trained for its great purpose ; and every trial and 
 vicissitude of his early life, but fitted him to cope with one or other 
 of the varied and multifarious duties of his future destiny. 
 
 But though, under the saddening influence of debility and de- 
 feat, he might count the cost of his campaigning, the martial spirit 
 still burned within him. His connection wqth the army, it is true, 
 had ceased at the death of Braddock, but his military duties con- 
 tinued as adjutant-general of the northern division of the province, 
 and he immediately issued orders for the county lieutenants to hold 
 the militia in readiness for parade and exercise, forseeing that, in 
 the present defenceless state of the frontier, there would be need of 
 their services. 
 
 Tidings of the rout and retreat of the army had circulated far 
 
84 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and near, and spread consternation throughout the country. Im- 
 mediate incursions both of French and Indians were apprehended ; 
 and volunteer companies began to form, for the purpose of march- 
 ing across the mountains to the scene of danger. It was intimated 
 to Washington tliat his services would again be wanted on the 
 frontier. He declared instantly that he was ready to serve his 
 country to the extent of his powers ; but never on the same terms 
 as heretofore. 
 
 On the 4th of August, Governor Dinwiddle convened the Assem- 
 bly to devise measures for the public safety. The sense of danger 
 had quickened the slow patriotism of the burgesses ; they no 
 longer held back supplies ; forty thousand pounds were promptly 
 voted, and orders issued for the raising of a regiment of one thou- 
 sand men. 
 
 Washington's friends urged him to present himself at Williams- 
 burg as a candidate for the command ; they were confident of his 
 success, notwithstanding that strong interest was making for the 
 governor's favorite. Colonel Innes. 
 
 With mingled modesty and pride, Washington dechned to be a 
 solicitor. The only terms, he said, on which he would accept a 
 command, were a certainty as to rank and emoluments, a right to 
 appoint his field officers, and the supply of a sufficient military 
 chest; but to solicit the command, and, at the same time, to make 
 stipulations, would be a little incongruous, and carry with it the 
 face of self-sufficiency. " If," added he, "the command should be 
 offered to me, the case will then be altered, as I should be at 
 liberty to make sucli objections as reason, and my small experience, 
 have pointed out." 
 
 While this was in agitation, he received letters from his mother, 
 again imploring him not to risk himself in these frontier wars. His 
 answer was characteristic, blending the filial deference with which 
 he was accustomed from childhood to treat her, with a calm patriot- 
 ism of the Roman stamp. 
 
 "Honored Madam : If it is in my power to avoid going to Ohio 
 again, I shall ; but if the command is pressed upon me by the 
 general voice of the country, and offered upon such terms as can- 
 not be objected against, it would reflect dishonor on me to refuse 
 it; and that, I am sure, must, and ought, to give you greater un- 
 easiness, than my going in an honorable command. Upon no other 
 terms will I accept it. At present I have no proposals made to 
 me, nor have I any advice of such an intention, except from pri- 
 vate hands." 
 
 On the very day that this letter was dispatched (Aug. 14), he 
 received intelligence of his appointment to the command on the 
 terms specified in his letters to his friends. His commission nomi- 
 nated him commander-in-chief of all the forces raised, or to be 
 raised, in the colony. The Assembly also voted three hundred 
 pounds to him, and proportionate sums to the other officers, and to 
 the privates of the Virginia companies, in consideration of their 
 gallant conduct, and their losses in the late battle. 
 
 The officers next in command under him were Lieutenant-Colonel 
 
17 5 5-] WASHINGTON IN COMMAND. 85 
 
 Adam Stephens, and Major Andrew Lewis. The former, it will be 
 recollected, had been with him in the unfortunate affair at the 
 Great Meadows ; his advance in rank shows that his conduct had 
 been meritorious. 
 
 The appointment of Washington to his present station was the 
 more gratifying and honorable from being a popular one, made in 
 deference to public sentiment ; to which Governor Dinwiddle was 
 obliged to sacrifice his strong inclination in favor of Colonel Innes. 
 It is thought that the governor never afterward regarded Washing- 
 ton with a friendly eye. His conduct toward him subsequently 
 was on various occasions cold and ungracious. 
 
 It is worthy of note that the early popularity of Washington was 
 not the result of brilliant achievements nor signal success ; on the 
 contrary, it arose among trials and reverses, and may almost be 
 said to have been the fruits of defeats. It remains an honorable 
 testimony of Virginian intelligence, that the sterling, enduring, but 
 undazzling qualities of Washington were thus early discerned and 
 appreciated, though only heralded by misfortunes. The admirable 
 manner in which he had conducted himself under these misfortunes, 
 and the sagacity and practical wisdom he had displayed on all oc- 
 casions, were universally acknowledged ; and it was observed that, 
 had his modest counsels been adopted by the unfortunate Brad- 
 dock, a totally different result might have attended the late cam- 
 paign. 
 
 An instance of this high appreciation of his merits occurs in a 
 sermon preached on the 17th of August by the Rev. Samuel Davis, 
 wherein he cites him as "that heroic youth. Colonel Washington, 
 whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved in so 
 signal a manner for some important service to his country*^ The 
 expressions of the worthy clergyman may have been deemed en- 
 thusiastic at the time ; viewed in connection with subsequent events 
 they appear almost prophetic. 
 
 Having held a conference with Governor Dinwiddle at Wilhams- 
 burg, and received his instructions, Washington repaired, on the 
 14th of September, to Winchester, where he fixed his headquar- 
 ters. It was a place as yet of trifling magnitude, but important 
 from its position ; being a central point where the main roads met, 
 leading from north to south, and east to west, and commanding the 
 channels of traffic and communication between some of the most 
 important colonies and a great extent of frontier. 
 
 Here he was brought into frequent and cordial communication 
 with his old friend Lord Fairfax. The stir of war had revived a 
 spark of that military fire which animated the veteran nobleman in 
 the days of his youth, when an officer in the cavalry regiment of 
 the Blues, He was lord-lieutenant of the county. Greenway 
 Court was his headquarters. He had organized a troop of horse, 
 which occasionally was exercised about the lawn of his domain, 
 and he was now as prompt to mount his steed for a cavalry parade 
 as he ever was for a fox chase. The arrival of Washington fre- 
 quently brought the old nobleman to Winchester, to aid the young 
 commander with his counsels or his sword. 
 
86 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 His services were soon put in requisition. Washington, having 
 visited the frontier posts, established recruiting places, and taken 
 other measures of security, had set off for Williamsburg on military 
 business, when an express arrived at Winchester from Colonel 
 Stephens, who commanded at Fort Cumberland, giving the alarm 
 that a body of Indians were ravaging the country, burning the 
 houses and slaughtering the inhabitants. The express was in- 
 stantly forwarded after Washington ; in the meantime. Lord Fair- 
 fax sent out orders for the militia of Fairfax and Prince William 
 counties to arm and hasten to the defence of Winchester, where all 
 was confusion and affright. One fearful account followed another. 
 The whole country beyond it was said to be at the mercy of the 
 savages. They had blockaded the rangers in the little fortresses or 
 outposts provided for the protection of neighborhoods. They were 
 advancing upon Winchester with fire, tomahawk, and scalping- 
 knife. The country people were flocking into the town for safety — 
 the townspeople were moving off to the settlements beyond the 
 Blue Ridge. The beautiful valley of the Shenandoah was likely to 
 become a scene of savage desolation. 
 
 In the height of the confusion Washington rode into the town. 
 He had been overtaken by Colonel Stephens' express. His pres- 
 ence inspired some degree of confidence, and he succeeded in stop- 
 ping most of the fugitives. He would have taken the field at once 
 against the savages, believing their numbers to be few ; but not 
 more than twenty-five of the militia could be mustered for the ser- 
 vice. The rest refused to stir — they would rather die with their 
 wives and children. 
 
 Expresses were sent off to hurry up the militia ordered out by 
 Lord Fairfax. Scouts were ordered out to discover the number of 
 the foe, and convey assurances of succor to the rangers said to be 
 blocked up in the fortresses, though Washington suspected the latter 
 to be "more encompassed by fear than by the enemy." Smiths 
 were set to work to furbish up and repair such firearms as were in 
 the place, and wagons were sent off for musket balls, flints, and 
 provisions. 
 
 At length the band of Indians, whose ravages had produced this 
 consternation throughout the land, and whose numbers did not 
 exceed one hundred and fifty, being satiated with carnage, con- 
 flagration, and plunder, retreated, bearing off spoils and captives. 
 Intelligent scouts sent out by Washington, followed their traces, and 
 brought back certain intelligence that they had recrossed the Alle- 
 gany Mountains and returned to their homes on the Ohio. This 
 report allayed the public panic and restored temporary quiet to the 
 harassed frontier. 
 
 . Most of the Indians engaged in these ravages were Delawares 
 and Shawnees, who, since Braddock's defeat, had been gained over 
 by the French. A principal instigator was said to be Washington's 
 old acquaintance, Shengis, and a reward was offered for his head. 
 
 Scarooyadi, successor to the half-king, remained true to the 
 English, and vindicated his people to the Governor and Council of 
 Pennsylvania from the charge of having had any share in the late 
 
I755-] PANIC AT WINCHESTER. 87 
 
 massacres. As to the defeat at the Monongahela, "it was owing," 
 he said, "to the pride and ignorance of that great general (Brad- 
 dock) that came from England. He is now dead ; but he was a 
 bad man when he was alive. He looked upon us as dogs, and 
 would never hear anything that was said to him. We often en- 
 deavored to advise him, and tell him of the danger he was in with 
 his soldiers ; but he never appeared pleased with us, and that was 
 the reason that a great many of our warriors left him." 
 
 Scarooyadi was ready with his warriors to take up the hatchet 
 again with their English brothers against the French. "Let us 
 unite our strength," said he; "you are numerous, and all the 
 English governors along your sea-shore can raise men enough ; but 
 don't let those that come from over the great seas be concerned 
 any more. They are ii7ifit to fight in the woods. Let us go our- 
 selves — we that came out of this ground. '' 
 
 No one felt more strongly than Washington the importance, at 
 this trying juncture, of securing the assistance of these forest war- 
 riors. " It is in their power," said he, " to be of infinite use to us ; 
 arid without Indians, we shall never be able to cope with these cruel 
 foes to our country." 
 
 Washington had now time to inform himself of the fate of the 
 other enterprises included in this year's plan of military operations. 
 We shall briefly dispose of them, for the sake of carrying on the 
 general course of events. The history of Washington is hnked 
 with the history of the colonies. The defeat of Braddock para- 
 lyzed the expedition against Niagara. Many of General Shirley's 
 troops, which were assembled at Albany, struck with the consterna- 
 tion which it caused throughout the country, deserted. Most of 
 the bateau men, who were to transport stores by various streams, 
 returned home. It was near the end of August before Shirley was 
 in force at Oswego. Time was lost in building boats for the lake. 
 Storms and head winds ensued; then sickness: military incapacity 
 in the general completed the list of impediments. Deferring the 
 completion of the enterprise until the following year, Shirley re- 
 turned to Albany with the main part of his forces in October, leav- 
 ing about seven hundred men to garrison the fortifications he had 
 commenced at Oswego. 
 
 To General William Johnson, it will be recollected, had been 
 confided the expedition against Crown Point, on Lake Champlain. 
 Preparations were made for it in Albany, whence the troops were 
 to march, and the artillery, ammunition, and stores to be conveyed 
 up the Hudson to the caiTying-place between that river and Lake 
 St. Sacrament, as it was termed by the French, but Lake George, 
 as Johnson named it, in honor of his sovereign. At the carrying- 
 place a fort was commenced, subsequently called Fort Edward. 
 Part of the troops remained under General Lyman, to comj_lete 
 and garrison it ; the main force proceeded under General Johnson 
 to Lake George, the plan being to descend that lake to its outlet 
 at Ticonderoga, in Lake Champlain. Having to attend the arrival 
 of bateaux forwarded for the purpose from Albany by the carry- 
 ing-place, Johnson encamj cd at the Ecuth end cf the lake. He had 
 
88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with him between five and six thousand troops of New York and 
 New England, and a host of Mohawk warriors, loyally devoted to 
 him. 
 
 It so happened that a Frenek force of upward of three thousand 
 men under the Baron de Dieskau, an old general of high reputation, 
 had recently arrived at Quebec, destined against Oswego. The 
 baron had proceeded to Montreal, and sent forward thence seven 
 hundred of his troops, when news arrived of the army gathering 
 on Lake George for the attack on Crown Point, perhaps for an 
 inroad into Canada. The public were in consternation ; yielding to 
 their importunities, the baron took post at Crown Point for its 
 defence. Besides his regular troops, he had with him eight hun- 
 dred Canadians, and seven hundred Indians of different tribes. 
 The latter were under the general command of the Chevalier 
 Legardeur de St. Pierre, the veteran officer to whom Washington 
 had delivered the dispatches of Governor Dinwiddie on his diplo- 
 matic mission to the frontier. The chevalier was a man of great 
 influence among the Indians. 
 
 In the mean time Johnson remained encamped at the south end 
 of Lake George, awaiting the arrival of his bateaux. The camp 
 was protected in the rear by the lake, in front by a bulwark of 
 felled trees ; and was flanked by thickly wooded swamps. 
 
 On the 7th of September, the Indian scouts brought word that 
 they had discovered three large roads made through the forests 
 toward Fort Edward. An attack on that post was apprehended. 
 Adams, a hardy wagoner, rode express with orders to the com- 
 mander to draw all the troops within the works. About midnight 
 came other scouts. They had seen the French within four miles of 
 the carrying-place. They had heard the report of a musket, and 
 the voice of a man crying for mercy, supposed to be the unfortu- 
 nate Adams. In the morning Colonel Williams was detached with 
 one thousand men, and two hundred Indians, to intercept the 
 enemy in their retreat. 
 
 Within two hours after their departure a heavy fire of musketry, 
 in the midst of the forest, about three or four miles off, told of a 
 warm encounter. The drums beat to arms ; all were at their posts. 
 The firing grew sharper and sharper, and nearer and nearer. The 
 detachment under WilHams was evidently retreating. Colonel 
 Cole was sent with three hundred men to cover their retreat. The 
 breast-work of trees was manned. Some heavy cannon were 
 dragged up to strengthen the front, A number of men were 
 stationed with a field-piece on an eminence on the left flank. 
 
 In a short time fugitives made their appearance ; first singly, then 
 in masses, flying in confusion, with a rattling fire behind them, 
 and the horrible Indian war-whoop. Consternation seized upon 
 the camp, especially when the French emerged from the forest in 
 battle array, led by the Baron Dieskau, the gallant commander of 
 Crown Point. Had all his troops been as daring as himself, the 
 camp might have been carried by assault ; but the Canadians and 
 Indians held back, posted themselves behind trees, and took to 
 bush-fighting. 
 
I755-] DIESKAU LEADS THE FRENCH. 89 
 
 The baron was left with his regulars (two hundred grenadiers) in 
 front of the camp. He kept up a fire by platoons, but at too great 
 a distance to do much mischief; the Canadians and Indians fired 
 from their coverts. The artillery played on them in return. The 
 camp, having recovered from its panic, opened a fire of musketry. 
 The engagement became general. The French grenadiers stood 
 their ground bravely for a long time, but were dreadfully cut up by 
 the artillery and small-arms. The action slackened on the part of 
 the French, until, after a long contest, they gave way. Johnson's 
 men and the Indians then leaped over the breast-work, and a 
 chance medley fight ensued, that ended in the slaughter, rout, or 
 capture of the enemy. 
 
 The Baron de Dieskau had been disabled by a wound in the leg. 
 One of his men, who endeavored to assist him, was shot down by 
 his side. The baron, left alone in the retreat, was found by the 
 pursuers leaning against the stump of a tree. As they approached, 
 he felt for his watch to insure kind treatment by delivering it up. 
 A soldier, thinking he was drawing forth a pistol to defend himself, 
 shot him through the hips. He was conveyed a prisoner to the 
 camp, but ultimately died of his wounds. 
 
 The baron had really set off from Crown Point to surprise Fort 
 Edward, and, if successful, to push on to Albany and Schenectady ; 
 lay them in ashes, and cut off all communication with Oswego. 
 The Canadians and Indians, however, refused to attack the fort, 
 fearful of its cannon ; he had changed his plan, therefore, and 
 determined to surprise the camp. In the encounter with the 
 detachment under Williams, the brave Chevaher Legardeur de St. 
 Pierre lost his life. On the part of the Americans, Hendrick, a 
 famous old Mohawk sachem, grand ally of General Johnson, was 
 slain. 
 
 Johnson himself received a slight wound early in the action, and 
 retired to his tent. He did not follow up the victory as he should 
 have done, alleging tliat it was first necessary to build a strong fort 
 at his encampment, by way of keeping up a communication with 
 Albany, and by the time this was completed, it would be too late to 
 advance against Crown Point. He accordingly erected a stock- 
 aded fort, which received the name of William Henry ; and having 
 garrisoned it, returned to Albany. His services, although they 
 gained him no laurel-wreath, were rewarded by government with 
 five thousand pounds, and a baronetcy ; and he was made Super- 
 intendent of Indian Affairs. 
 
 Mortifying experience had convinced Washington of the ineffi- 
 ciency of the militia laws, and he noAv set about effecting a 
 reformation. Through his great and persevering efforts, an act 
 was passed in the Virginia Legislature giving prompt operation to 
 courts-martial ; punishing insubordination, mutiny and desertion 
 with adequate severity ; strengthening the authority of a com- 
 mander, so as to enable him to enforce order and discipline among 
 officers as well as privates ; and to avail himself, in time of 
 emergency, and for the common safety, of the means and services 
 of individuals. 
 
90 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 This being effected, he proceeded to fill up his companies, and 
 to enforce this newly defined authority within his camp. All 
 gaming, drinking, quarreling, swearing, and similar excesses, were 
 prohibited under severe penalties. 
 
 In disciphning his men, they were instructed not merely in 
 ordinary and regular tactics, but in all the strategy of Indian 
 warfare, and what is called "bush-fighting," — a knowledge indis- 
 pensable in the wild wars. of the wilderness. Stockaded forts, too, 
 were constructed at various points, as places of refuge and defence, 
 in exposed neighborhoods. Under shelter of these, the inhabitants 
 began to return to their deserted homes. A shorter and better 
 road, also, was opened by him between Winchester and Cumber- 
 land, for the transmission of reinforcements and supplies. 
 
 His exertions, however, were impeded by one of those questions 
 of precedence, which had so often annoyed him, arising from the 
 difference between crown and provincial commissions. Maryland 
 having by a scanty appropriation raised a small militia force, 
 stationed Captain Dagworthy, with a company of thirty men, at 
 Fort Cumberland, which stood within the boundaries of that 
 province. Dagworthy had served in Canada in the preceding war, 
 and had received a king's commission. This he had since com- 
 muted for half-pay, and, of course, had virtually parted with its 
 privileges. He was nothing more, therefore, than a Maryland 
 provincial captain, at the head of thirty men. He now, however, 
 assumed to act under his royal commission, and refused to obey 
 the orders of any officer, however high his rank, who merely held 
 his commission from a governor. Nay, when Governor, or rather 
 Colonel Innes, who commanded at the fort, was called away to 
 North Carolina by his private affairs, the captain took upon himself 
 the command, and insisted upon it as his right. 
 
 Washington refrained from mingling in this dispute ; but 
 intimated that if the commander-in-chief of the force of Virginia 
 must yield precedence to a Maryland captain of thirty men, he 
 should have to resign his commission, as he had been compelled to 
 do before, by a question of military rank. 
 
 So difficult was it, however, to settle these disputes of pre- 
 cedence, especially where the claims of two governors came in 
 collision, that it was determined to refer the matter to Major-Gen- 
 eral Shirley, who had succeeded Braddock in the general command 
 of the colonies. For this purpose Washington was to goto Boston, 
 obtain a decision from Shirley of the point in dispute, and a 
 general regulation, by which these difficulties could be prevented 
 in future. It was thought, also, that in a conference with the com- 
 mander-in-chief he might inform himself of the mihtary measures 
 in contemplation. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 4th of February (1756), leaving Colonel 
 Adam Stephen in command of the troops, Washington set out on 
 his mission, accompanied by his aide-de-camp. Captain George 
 Mercer of Virginia, and Captain Stewart of the Virginia light 
 horse ; the officer who had taken care of General Braddock in his 
 last moments. 
 
1755-] JOURNEY TO BOSTON. 91 
 
 In those days the convenience of traveling, even between our 
 main cities, were few, and the roads execrable. The party, there- 
 fore, traveled in Virginia style, on horseback, attended by their 
 black servants in hvery. In this way they accomplished a journey 
 of five hundred miles in the depth of winter ; stopping for some 
 days at Philadelphia and New York. Those cities were then com- 
 paratively small, and the arrival of a party of young Southern 
 officers attracted attention. The late disastrous battle was still the 
 theme of every tongue, and the honorable way in which these 
 young officers had acquitted themselves in it, made them objects of 
 universal interest. Washington's fame, especially, had gone before 
 him ; having been spread by the officers who had served with him, 
 and by the pubUc honors decreed him by the Virginia Legislature. 
 "Your name," wrote his former fellow-campaigner, Gist, in a letter 
 dated in the preceding autumn, " is more talked of in Philadel- 
 phia than that of any other person in the army, and everybody 
 seems wilhng to venture under your command." 
 
 With these prepossessions in his favor, when we consider Wash- 
 ington's noble person and demeanor, his consummate horseman- 
 ship, the admirable horses he was accustomed to ride, and the 
 aristocratical style of his equipments, we may imagine the eff"ect 
 produced by himself and his little cavalcade, as they clattered 
 through the streets of Philadelphia, and New York, and Boston. 
 It is needless to say, their sojourn in each city was a continual fete. 
 
 The mission to General Shirley was entirely successful as to the 
 question of rank. A written order from the commander-in-chief 
 determined that Dagworthy was entitled to the rank of a provincial 
 captain, only, and, of course, must on all occasions give preced- 
 ence to Colonel Washington, as a provincial field officer. The lat- 
 ter was disappointed, however, in the hope of getting himself and 
 his officers put upon the regular establishment, with commissions 
 from the king, and had to remain subjected to mortifying questions 
 of rank and etiquette, when serving in company with regular 
 troops. 
 
 From General Shirley he learned that the main objects of the en- 
 suing campaign would be the reduction of Fort Niagara, so as to cut 
 off" the communication between Canada and Louisiana, the cap- 
 ture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, as a measure of safety for 
 New York, the besieging of Fort Duquesne, and the menacing of 
 Quebec by a body of troops which were to advance by the Kene- 
 bec River. 
 
 The official career of General Shirley was drawing to a close. 
 Though a man of good parts, he had always, until recently, acted 
 in a civil capacity, and proved incompetent to conduct military oper- 
 ations. He was recalled to England, and was to be superceded 
 by General Abercrombie, who was coming out with two regiments. 
 
 The general command in America, however, was to be held by 
 the Earl of Loudoun, who was invested with powers almost equal 
 to those of a viceroy, being placed above all the colonial gover- 
 nors. These might claim to be civil and military representatives of 
 their sovereign within their respective colonies; but, even there, 
 
92 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 were bound to defer and yield precedence to this their official su- 
 perior. This was part of a plan devised long ago, but now first 
 brought into operation, by which the ministry hoped to unite the 
 colonies under military rule, and oblige the Assemblies, magistrates, 
 and people to furnish quarters and provide a general fund subject 
 to the control of this military dictator. 
 
 Besides his general command, the Earl of Loudoun was to be 
 governor of Virginia and colonel of a royal-American regiment of 
 four battalions, to be raised in the colonies, but furnished with offi- 
 cers who, like himself, had seen foreign service. The campaign 
 would open on his arrival, which, it was expected, would be early 
 in the spring ; and brilliant results were anticipated. 
 
 Washington remained ten days in Boston, attending, with great 
 interest, the meetings of the Massachusetts Legislature, in which 
 the plan of military operations was ably discussed ; and receiving 
 the most hospitable attentions from the polite and intelligent society 
 of the place, after which he returned to New York. 
 
 Tradition gives very different motives from those of business for 
 his two sojourns in the latter city. He found there an early friend 
 and school-mate, Beverly Robinson, son of John Robinson, speaker 
 of the Virginia House of Burgesses. 
 
 He was living happily and prosperously with a young and wealthy 
 bride, having married one of the nieces and heiresses of Mr. Adol- 
 phus Philipse, a rich landholder, whose manor-house is still to be 
 seen on the banks of the Hudson. At the house of Mr. Beverly 
 Robinson, where Washington was an honored guest, he met Miss 
 Mary Philipse, sister of and co-heiress with Mrs. Robinson, a young 
 lady whose personal attractions are said to have rivaled her reputed 
 wealth. 
 
 We have already given an instance of W^ashington's early sensi- 
 bility to female charms. A fife, however, of constant activity and 
 care, passed for the most part in the wilderness and on the frontier, 
 far from female society, had left little mood or leisure for the indul- 
 gence of the tender sentiment ; but made him more sensible, in the 
 present brief interval of gay and social Hfe, to the attractions of an 
 elegant woman, brought up in the polite circle of New York. 
 
 That he was an open admirer of Miss Philipse is an historical fact ; 
 that he sought her hand, but was refused, is traditional and not 
 very probable. His military rank, his early laurels and distin- 
 guished presence, were all calculated to win favor in female eyes; 
 but his sojourn in New York was brief ; he may have been diffi- 
 dent in urging his suit with a lady accustomed to the homage of 
 society and surrounded by admirers. The most probable version 
 of the story is, that he was called away by his public duties before 
 he had made sufficient approaches in his siege of the lady's heart 
 to warrant a summons to surrender. In the latter part of March 
 we find him at Williamsburg attending the opening of the Legisla- 
 ture of Virginia, eager togpromote measures for the protection of 
 the frontier and the capture of Fort Duquesne, the leading object 
 of his ambition. Maryland and Pennsylvania were erecting forts 
 for the defence of their own borders, but showed no disposition to 
 
1756.] RETURN TO WINCHESTER. 93 
 
 co-operate with Virginia in the field ; and artillery, artillerymen, 
 and engineers were wanting for an attack on the fortified places. 
 Washington urged, therefore, an augmentation of the provincial 
 forces, and various improvements in the militia laws. 
 
 While thus engaged, he received a letter from a friend and confi- 
 dant in New York, warning him to hasten back to that city before 
 it was too late, as Captain Morris, who had been his fellow aid-de- 
 camp under Braddock, was laying close siege to Miss Philipse. 
 Sterner alarms, however, summoned him in another direction. 
 Expresses from Winchester brought word that the French had 
 made another sortie from Fort Duquesne, accompanied by a band 
 of savages, and were spreading terror and desolation through the 
 country. In this moment of exigency all softer claims were forgot- 
 ten ; Washington repaired in all haste to his post at Winchester, and 
 Captain Morris was left to urge his suit unrivaled and carry off the 
 prize. 
 
 Report had not exaggerated the troubles of the frontier. It was 
 marauded by merciless bands of savages, led in some instances, by 
 Frenchmen. Travelers were murdered, farm-houses burnt down, 
 families butchered, and even stockaded forts, or houses of refuge, 
 attacked in open day. The marauders had crossed the mountains 
 and penetrated the valley of the Shenandoah ; and several persons 
 had fallen beneath the tomahawk in the neighborhood of Winchester. 
 
 Washington's old friend. Lord Fairfax, found himself no longer 
 safe in his rural abode. Greenway Court was in the midst of a 
 woodland region, affording a covert approach for the stealthy sav- 
 age. His lordship was considered a great chief, whose scalp would 
 be an inestimable trophy for an Indian warrior. 
 
 Washington on his arrival at Winchester, found the inhabitants 
 in great dismay. He resolved immediately to organize a force, 
 composed partly of troops from Fort Cumberland, partly of militia 
 from Winchester and its vicinity, to put himself at its head, and 
 "scour the woods and suspected places in all the mountains and 
 valleys of this part of the frontier, in quest of the Indians and their 
 more cruel associates." 
 
 An attack on Winchester was apprehended, and the terrors of 
 the people rose to agony. They now turned to Washington as their 
 main hope. The women surrounded him, holding up their chil- 
 dren, and imploring him with tears and cries to save them from the 
 savages. The youthful commander looked round on the suppliant 
 crowd with a countenance beaming with pity, and a heart wrung 
 with anguish. A letter to Governor Dinwiddle shows the conflict 
 of his feehngs. " I am too little acquainted with pathetic language 
 to attempt a description of these people's distresses. But what can 
 I do ? I see their situation ; I know their danger, and participate in 
 their sufferings, without having it in my power to give them further 
 relief than uncertain promises." — " The supplicating tears of the 
 women, and moving petitions of the men, melt me into such deadly 
 sorrow, that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could 
 offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided 
 that would contribute to the people's ease." 
 
94 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 The measure of relief voted by the Assembly was an additional 
 appropriation of twenty thousand pounds, and an increase of the 
 provincial force to fifteen hundred men. With this, it was proposed 
 to erect and garrison a chain of frontier forts, extending through 
 the ranges of the Allegheny Mountains, from the Potomac to the 
 borders of North Carolina ; a distance of between three and four 
 hundred miles. This was one of the inconsiderate projects devised 
 by Governor Dinwiddie. 
 
 Washington, in letters to the governor and to the speaker of the 
 House of Burgesses, urged the impolicy of such a plan, with their 
 actual force and means. The forts, he observed, ought to be 
 within fifteeen or eighteen miles of each other, that their spies 
 might be able to keep watch over the intervening country, other- 
 wise the Indians would pass between them unperceived, effect 
 their ravages, and escape to the mountains, swamps, and ravines, 
 before the troops from the forts could be assembled to pursue them. 
 They ought each to be garrisoned with eighty or a hundred men, 
 so as to afford detachments of sufficient strength, without leaving 
 the garrison too weak ; for the Indians are the most stealthy and 
 patient of spies and lurkers ; will lie in wait for days together 
 about small forts of the kind, and, if they find, by some chance 
 prisoner, that the garrison is actually w-eak, will first surprise and 
 cut off its scouting parties, and then attack the fort itself. It was 
 evident, therefore, observed he, that to garrison properly such a line 
 of forts, would require, at least, two thousand men. And even 
 then, a line of such extent might be broken through at one end 
 before the other end could yield assistance. Feint attacks, also, 
 might be made at one point, while the real attack was made at 
 another, quite distant ; and the country be overrun before its 
 widely-posted defenders could be alarmed and concentrated. Then 
 must be taken into consideration the immense cost of building so 
 many forts, and the constant and consuming expense of supplies 
 and transportation. 
 
 In the height of the alarm, a company of one hundred gentle- 
 men, mounted and equipped, volunteered their services to repair 
 to the frontier. They were headed by Peyton Randolph, attor- 
 ney-general, a man deservedly popular throughout the province. 
 Their offer was gladly accepted. They were denominated the 
 " Gentlemen Associators," and great expectations, of course, were 
 entertained from their gallantry and devotion. They were em- 
 powered, also, to aid with their judgment in the selection of places 
 for frontier forts. 
 
 The repeated inroads of the savages called for an effectual and 
 permanent check. The idea of being constantly subject to the ir- 
 ruptions of a deadly foe, that moved with stealth and mystery, and 
 was only to be traced by its ravages, and counted by its footprints, 
 discouraged all settlement of the country. The beautiful valley of 
 the Shenandoah was fast becoming a deserted and a silent place. 
 Her people, for the most part, had fled to the older settlements 
 south of the mountains, and the Blue Ridge was likely soon to be- 
 come virtually the frontier line of the province. 
 
1756.] ESCAPE OF CAPT. MERCER. 95 
 
 We have to record one signal act of retaliation on the perfidious 
 tribes of the Ohio, in which a person whose name subsequently be- 
 came dear to Americans, was concerned. Prisoners who had es- 
 caped from the savages reported that Shingis, Washington's faith- 
 less ally, and another sachem called Captain Jacobs, were the two 
 heads of the hostile bands that had desolated the frontier. That 
 they lived at Kittanning, an Indian town, about forty miles above 
 Fort Duquesne ; at which their warriors were fitted out for incur- 
 sions, and whither they returned with their prisoners and plunder. 
 Captain Jacobs was a daring fellow, and scoffed at pahsadoed 
 forts. "He could take any fort," he said, " that would catch 
 fire." 
 
 A party of two hundred and eighty provincials, resolute men, un- 
 dertook to surprise, and destroy this savage nest. It was com- 
 manded by Colonel John Armstrong ; and with him went Dr. Hugh 
 Mercer, of subsequent renown, who had received a captain's com- 
 mission from Pennsylvania, on the 6th of March, 1756. 
 
 The object of the expedition was accomplished. Thirty of forty 
 of the warriors were slain ; their stronghold was a smoking ruin. 
 There was danger of the victors being cut off by a detachment, 
 from Fort Duquesne. They made the best of their way, therefore, 
 to their horses, which had been left at a distance, and set off rap- 
 idly on their march to Fort Lyttleton, about sixty miles north of 
 Fort Cumberland. 
 
 Throughout the summer of 1756, Washington exerted himself 
 diligently in carrying out measures determined upon for frontier 
 security. The great fortress at Winchester was commenced, and 
 the work urged forward as expeditiously as the delays and perplex- 
 ities incident to a badly organized service would permit. It 
 received the name of Fort Loudoun, in honor of the commander- 
 in-chief, whose arrival in Virginia was hopefully anticipated. 
 
 As to the sites of the frontier posts, they were decided upon by 
 Washington and his officers, after frequent and long consultations ; 
 parties were sent out to work on them, and men recruited, and 
 militia drafted, to garrison them. Washington visited occasionally 
 such as were in progress, and near at hand. In the autumn, he 
 made a tour of inspection along the whole line, accompanied by his 
 friend. Captain Hugh Mercer, who had recovered from his recent 
 wounds. This tour furnished repeated proofs of the inefficiency of 
 the militia system. In one place he attempted to raise a force with 
 which to scour a region infested by roving bands of savages. After 
 waiting several days, but five men answered to his summons. In 
 another place, where three companies had been ordered to the 
 relief of a fort, attacked by the Indians, all that could be mustered 
 were a captain, a lieutenant, and seven or eight men. 
 
 While these events were occuring on the Virginia frontier, 
 military affairs went on tardily and heavily at the north. The 
 campaign against Canada, which was to have opened early in the 
 year, hung fire. The armament coming out for the purpose, under 
 Lord Loudoun, was delayed through the want of energy and 
 union in the British cabinet. General Abercrombie, who was to 
 
96 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 be next in command to his lordship, and to succeed to General 
 Shirley, set sail in advance for New York with two regiments, but 
 did not reach Albany, the headquarters of military operation, until 
 the 25th of June. He billeted his soldiers upon the town, much to 
 the disgust of the inhabitants, and talked of ditching and stock- 
 ading it, but postponed all exterior enterprises until the arrival of 
 Lord Loudoun ; then the campaign was to open in earnest. 
 
 On the 1 2th of July, came word that the forts Ontario and 
 Oswego, on each side of the mouth of the Oswego River, were 
 menaced by the French. They had been imperfectly constructed 
 by Shirley, and were insufficiently garrisoned, yet contained a 
 great amount of mihtary and naval stores, and protected the ves- 
 sels which cruised on Lake Ontario. 
 
 Major-General Webb was ordered by Abercrombie to hold him- 
 self in readiness to march with one regiment to the relief of these 
 forts, but received no further orders. Everything awaited the 
 arrival at Albany of Lord Loudoun, which at length took place, 
 on the 29th of July. There were now at least ten thousand troops, 
 regulars and provincials, loitering in an idle camp at Albany, yet 
 relief to Oswego was still delayed. Lord Loudoun was in favor of 
 it, but the governments of New York and New England urged the 
 immediate reduction, of Crown Point, as necessary for the security 
 of their frontier. After much debate, it was agreed that General 
 Webb should march to the relief of Oswego. He left Albany on 
 the 1 2th of August, but had scarce reached the carrying-place, 
 between the Mohawk River and Wood Creek, when he received 
 news that Oswego was reduced, and its garrison captured. While 
 the British commanders had debated. Field-marshal the Marquis 
 De Montcalm, newly arrived from France, had acted. He was a 
 different kind of soldier from Abercombie or Loudoun. A capa- 
 cious mind and enterprising spirit animated a small, but active and 
 untiring frame. Quick in thought, quick in speech, quicker still 
 in action, he comprehended everything at a glance, and moved 
 from point to point of the province with a celerity and secrecy 
 that completely baffled his slow and pondering antagonists. Crown 
 Point and Ticonderoga were visited, and steps taken to strengthen 
 their works and provide for their security ; then hastening to Mon- 
 treal, he put himself at the head of a force of regulars, Canadians, 
 and Indians ; ascended the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario ; 
 blocked up the mouth of the Oswego by his vessels, landed his 
 guns, and beseiged the two forts ; drove the garrison out of one 
 into the other ; killed the commander. Colonel Mercer, and com- 
 pelled the garrisons to surrender prisoners of war. With the forts 
 was taken an immense amount of military stores, ammunition, and 
 provisions ; one hundred and twenty-one cannon, fourteen mortars, 
 six vessels of war, a vast number of bateaux, and three chests of 
 money. His blow achieved, Montcalm returned in triumph to 
 Montreal, and sent the colors of the captured forts to be hung up 
 as trophies in the Canadian churches. 
 
 Scarce had the tidings of his lordship's departure reached Can- 
 ada, when the active Montcalm again took the field, to follow up 
 
I757-] DISASTER AT LOU/SB URG. 97 
 
 the successes of the preceding year. Fort William Henry, which 
 Sir Wm. Johnson had erected on the southern shore of Lake 
 George, was now his object; it commanded the lake, and was an 
 important protection to the British frontier. A brave old officer, 
 Colonel Monro, with above five hundred men, formed the garri- 
 son; more than three times that number of militia were intrenched 
 near by. Montcalm had, early in the season, made three ineffect- 
 ual attempts upon the fort ; he now trusted to be more successful. 
 Collecting his forces from Crown Point, Ticonderoga, and the ad- 
 jacent posts, with a considerable r^umber of Canadians and In- 
 dians, altogether nearly eight thousand men, he advanced up the 
 lake, on the ist of August, in a fleet of boats, with swarms of Indian 
 canoes in the advance. The fort came near being surprised; but 
 the troops encamped without it, abandoned their tents and hurried 
 within the works. A summons to surrender was answered by a 
 brave defiance. Montcalm invested the fort, made his approaches 
 and battered it with his artillery. For five days its veteran com- 
 mander kept up a vigorous defence, trusting to receive assistance 
 from General Webb, who had failed to relieve Fort Oswego in the 
 preceding year, and who was now at Fort Edward, about fifteen 
 miles distant, with upward of five thousand men. Instead of this, 
 Webb, who overrated the French forces, sent him a letter, advising 
 him to capitulate. The letter was intercepted by Montcalm, but 
 still forwarded to Monro. The obstmate old soldier, however, per- 
 sisted in his defence, until most of his cannon were burst, and his 
 ammunition expended. At length, in the month of August, he 
 hung out a ftag of truce, and obtained honorable terms from an 
 enemy who knew how to appreciate his valor. Montcalm demol- 
 ished the fort, carried off all the artillery and munitions of war, 
 with vessels employed in the navigation of the lake ; and having 
 thus completed his destruction of the British defences on this fron- 
 tier, returned once more in triumph with the spoils of victory, to 
 hang up fresh trophies in the churches of Canada. 
 
 Lord Loudoun, in the mean time, formed his junction with Ad- 
 miral Holbourne at Halifax, and the troops were embarked with 
 all diligence on board of the transports. Unfortunately, the French 
 were again too quick for them. Admiral de Bois de la Mothe had 
 arrived at Louisburg, with a large naval and land force ; it was 
 ascertained that he had seventeen ships of the line, and three frig- 
 ates, quietly moored in the harbor ; that the place was well forti- 
 fied and supplied with provisions and ammunition, and garrisoned 
 with six thousand regular troops, three thousand natives, and 
 thirteen hundred Indians. 
 
 Some hot-heads would have urged an attempt against all such 
 array of force, but Lord Loudoun was aware of the probability of 
 defeat, and the disgrace and riiin that it would bring upon British 
 arms in America. He wisely, though ingloriously, returned to 
 New York. Admiral Holbourne made a silly demonstration of his 
 fleet off the harbor of Louisburg, approaching within two miles of 
 the batteries, but retired on seeing the French admiral preparing 
 to unmoor. He afterward returned with a reinforcement of four 
 
98 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 ships of the line ; cruised before Louisburg, endeavoring to draw 
 the enemy to an engagement, which De la Mothe had the wisdom 
 to decline ; was overtaken by a hurricane, in which one of his 
 ships was lost, eleven were dismasted, others had to throw their 
 guns overboard, and all returned in a shattered condition to Eng- 
 land. Thus ended the northern campaign by land and sea, a sub- 
 ject of great mortification to the nation, and ridicule and triumph 
 to the enemy. 
 
 During these unfortunate operations to the north, Washington 
 was stationed at Winchester, with seven hundred men to defend a 
 frontier of more than three hundred and fifty miles in extent. The 
 capture and demohtion of Oswego by Montcalm had produced a dis- 
 astrous effect. The whole country of the five nations was abandoned 
 to the French. The frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and 
 Virginia were harassed by repeated inroads of French and Indians, 
 and Washington had the mortification to see the noble valley of the 
 Shenandoah almost deserted by its inhabitants, a«nd fast relapsing 
 into a wilderness. 
 
 Under the able and intrepid administration of William Pitt, who 
 had control of the British cabinet, an efibrt was made to retrieve 
 the disgraces of the late American campaign, and to carry on the 
 war with greater vigor. The instructions for a common fund were 
 discontinued ; there was no more talk of taxation by Parliament. 
 Lord Loudoun, from whom so much had been anticipated, had dis- 
 appointed by his inactivity, and been relieved from a command in 
 which he had attempted much and done so little. His friends 
 alleged that his inactivity was owing to a want of unanimity and 
 co-operation in the colonial governments, which paralyzed all his 
 well-meant efforts. Franklin, it is probable, probed the matter 
 with his usual sagacity when he characterized him as a man 
 "entirely made up of indecision." — "Like St. George on the signs, 
 he was always on horseback, but never rode on." 
 
 On the return of his lordship to England, the general command 
 in America devolved on Major-General Abercrombie, and the 
 forces were divided into three detached bodies; one, under Major- 
 General Amherst, was to operate in the north Avith the fleet under 
 Boscawen, for the reduction of Louisburg and the island of Cape 
 Breton ; another, under Abercrombie herself, was to proceed 
 against Ticonderoga and Crown Point on Lake Champlain ; and 
 the third, under Brigadier-General Forbes, who had the charge of 
 the middle and southern colonies, was to undertake the reduction 
 of Fort Duquesne. The colonial troops were to be supplied, like 
 the regulars, with arms, ammunition, tents, and provisions, at the 
 expense of government, but clothed and paid by the colonies; for 
 which the king would recommend to Parliament a proper compen- 
 sation. 
 
 It was with the greatest satisfaction Washington saw his favorite 
 measure at last adopted, the reduction of Fort Duquesne; and he 
 resolved to continue in the service until that object was accom- 
 phshed. 
 
 He had the satisfaction of enjoying the fullest confidence of Gen- 
 
1758.I LETTER TO HALKET. 99 
 
 eral Forbes, who knew too well the sound judgment and practical 
 abiUty evinced by him in the unfortunate campaign of Braddock 
 not to be desirous of availing himself of his counsels. 
 
 Washington still was commander-in-chief of the Virginia troops, 
 now augmented, by an act of the Assembly, to two regiments of 
 one thousand men each ; one led by himself, the other by Colonel 
 Byrd ; the whole destined to make a part of the army of General 
 Forbes in the expedition against Fort Duquesne. 
 
 Major-General Amherst, embarked with between ten and twelve 
 thousand men, in the fleet of Admiral Boscawen, and set sail about 
 the end of May, from Halifax, in Nova Scotia. Along with him 
 went Brigadier-General James Wolfe, an officer young in years, 
 but a veteran in mihtary experience, and destined to gain an almost 
 romantic celebrity. He may almost be said to have been born in 
 the camp, for he was the son of Major-General Wolfe, a veteran 
 officer of merit, and when a lad had witnessed the battles of Det- 
 tingen and Fontenoy. While a mere youth he had distinguished 
 himself at the battle of Laffeldt, in the Netherlands ; and now, after 
 having been eighteen years in the service, he was but thirty-one 
 years of age. In America, however, he was to win his lasting 
 laurels. 
 
 On the 2d of June, the fleet arrived at the Bay of Gabarus, 
 about seven miles to the west of Louisburg. The latter place was 
 garrisoned by two thousand five hundred regulars and three hun- 
 dred militia, and subsequently reinforced by upward of four 
 hundred Canadians and Indians. In the harbor were six ships-of- 
 the-line, and five frigates ; three of which were sunk across the 
 mouth. For several days the troops were prevented from landing 
 by boisterous weather, and a heavy surf. The French improved 
 that time to strengthen a chain of forts along the shore, deepening 
 trenches, and constructing batteries. 
 
 On the 8th of June, preparations for landing were made before 
 daybreak. The troops were embarked in boats in three divisions, 
 under Brigadiers Wolfe, Whetmore, and Laurens. The landing 
 was to be attempted west of the harbor, at a place feebly secured. 
 Several frigates and sloops previously scoured the beach with 
 their shot, after which Wolfe pulled for shore with his divisions ; 
 the other two divisions distracting the attention of the enemy, by 
 making a show of landing in other parts. The surf still ran high, 
 the enemy opened a fire oi cannon and musketry from their bat- 
 teries, many boats were upse£, many men slain, but Wolfe pushed 
 forward, sprang into the water when the boats grounded, dashed 
 through the surf with his men, stormed the enemy's breastworks 
 and batteries, and drove them from the shore. Among the 
 subalterns who stood by Wolfe on this occasion, was an Irish 
 youth, twenty-one years of age, named Richard Montgomery, 
 whom, for his gallantry, Wolfe promoted to a heutenancy, and 
 who w^as destined, in after years, to gain an imperishable renown. 
 The other divisions effected a landing after a severe conflict ; 
 artillery and stores were brought on shore, and Louisburg was 
 formally invested. 
 
loo LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 The weather continued boisterous ; the heavy cannon, and the 
 various munitions necessary for a siege, were landed with difficulty, 
 Amherst, moreover, was a cautious man, and made his approaches 
 slowly, securing his camp by redoubts and epaulements. The 
 Chevalier Drucour, who commanded at Louisburg, called in his 
 outposts, and prepared for a desperate defence ; keeping up a 
 heavy fire from his batteries, and from the ships in the harbor. 
 
 Wolfe, with a strong detachment, surprised at night, and took 
 possession of Light House Point, on the north-east side of the 
 entrance to the harbor. Here he threw up batteries in addition to 
 those already there, from which he was enabled greatly to annoy 
 both town and shipping, as well as to aid Amherst in his slow, but 
 Tegular and sure approaches. 
 
 On the 2ist of July, the three largest of the enemy's ships were 
 set on lire by a bomb-shell. On the night of the 25th two other of 
 the ships were boarded, sword in hand, from boats of the squadron ; 
 one being aground, was burned, the other was towed out of the 
 harbor in triumph. The brave Drucour kept up the defence until 
 all the ships were either taken or destroyed ; forty out of fifty-two 
 pieces of cannon dismounted, and his works mere heaps of ruins. 
 When driven to capitulate, he refused the terms proposed, as be- 
 ing too severe, and, when threatened with a general assault, by 
 sea and land, determined to abide it, rather than submit to what he 
 considered a humiliation. The prayers and petitions of the inhabi- 
 tants, however, overcame his obstinacy. The place was 
 surrendered, and he and his garrison became prisoners of war. 
 Captain Amherst, brother to the general, carried home the news to 
 England, with eleven pair of colors, taken at Louisburg. There 
 were rejoicings throughout the kingdom. The colors were borne in 
 triumph through the streets of London, with a parade of horse and 
 foot, kettle-drums and trumpets, and the thunder of artillery, and 
 were put up as trophies in St. Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 Boscawen, who was a member of Parliament, received a unani- 
 mous vote of praise from the House of Commons, and the youthful 
 Wolfe, who returned shortly after the victory to England, was 
 hailed as the hero of the enterprise. 
 
 The second expedition was that against the French forts on 
 Lakes George and Champlain. At the beginning of July, Aber- 
 crombie was encamped on the borders of Lake George, with 
 between six and seven thousand, regulars, and upward of nine 
 thousand provincials, from New England, New York, and New 
 Jersey. Major Israel Putnam, of Connecticut, who had served on 
 this lake, under Sir William Johnson, in the campaign in which 
 Dieskau was defeated and slain, had been detached with a scouting 
 party to reconnoiter the neighborhood. After his return and report, 
 Abercrombie prepared to proceed against Ticonderago, situated on 
 a tongue of land in Lake Champlain, at the mouth of the strait 
 communicating with Lake George. 
 
 On the 5th of July, the forces were embarked in one hundred 
 and twenty-five whale-boats, and nine hundred bateaux, with the 
 artillery on rafts. The vast flotilla proceeded slowly down the 
 
1,1 f 
 
 wKSmlMM 
 
 
 -?2E5gW 
 
 
 jm^- 
 
 
 
I02 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 works. Never were rash orders more gallantly obeyed. The men 
 rushed forward with fixed bayonets, and attempted to force their 
 way through, or scramble over the abatis, under a sheeted fire of 
 swivels and musketry. In the desperation of the moment, the 
 officers even tried to cut their way through with their swords. 
 Some even reached the parapet, where they were shot down. The 
 breastwork was too high to be surmounted, and gave a secure 
 covert to the enemy. Repeated assaults were made, and as often 
 repelled, with dreadful havoc. The Iroquois warriors, who had 
 arrived with Sir Wilham Johnson, took no part, it is said, in this 
 fierce conflict, but stood aloof as unconcerned spectators of the 
 bloody strife of white men. 
 
 After four hours of desperate and fruitless fighting, Abercrombie, 
 who had all the time remained aloof at the saw-mills, gave up the 
 ill-judged attempt, and withdrew once more to the landing-place, 
 with the loss of nearly two thousand in killed and wounded. Had 
 not the vastly inferior force of Montcalm prevented him from 
 sallying beyond his trenches, the retreat of the British might have 
 been pushed to a headlong and disastrous flight. 
 
 Abercrombie had still nearly four times the number of the 
 enemy, with cannon, and all the means of carrying on a siege, 
 with every prospect of success ; but the failure of this rash assault 
 seems completely to have dismayed him. The next day he re- 
 embarked all his troops, and returned across that lake where his 
 disgraced banners had recently waved so proudly. 
 
 While the general was planning fortifications on Lake George, 
 Colonel Bradstreet obtained permission to carry into effect an ex- 
 pedition which he had for some time meditated, and which had 
 been a favored project with the lamented Howe. This was to 
 reduce Fort Frontenac, the stronghold of the French on the north 
 side of the entrance of Lake Ontario, commanding the mouth of 
 the St. Lawrence. This post was a central point of Indian trade, 
 whither the tribes resorted from all parts of a vast interior; some- 
 times a distance of a thousand miles, to traffic away their peltries 
 with the fur-traders. It was, moreover, a magazine for the more 
 southern posts, among which was Fort Duquesne on the Ohio. 
 
 Bradstreet was an officer of spirit. Pushing his way along the 
 valley of the Mohawk and by the Oneida where he was joined by 
 several warriors of the Six Nations, he arrived at Oswego in 
 August, with nearly three thousand men ; the greater part of them 
 provincial troops of New York and Massachusetts. Embarking 
 at Oswego in open boats he crossed Lake Ontario, and landed 
 within a mile of Frontenac. The fort mounted sixty guns, and 
 several mortars, yet though a place of such importance, the garri- 
 son consisted of merely one hundred and ten men, and a few 
 Indians. These either fled, or surrendered at discretion. In the 
 fort was an immense amount of merchandise and military stores ; 
 part of the latter intended for the supply of Fort Duquesne. In 
 the harbor were nine armed vessels, some of them carrying 
 eighteen guns ; the whole of the enemy's shipping on the lake. 
 Two of these Colonel Bradstreet freighted with part of the spoils of 
 
1 758.] SLO W OPERA TIONS. 103 
 
 the fort, the others he destroyed ; then having dismantled the 
 fortifications, and laid waste everything which he could not carry 
 away, he recrossed the lake to Oswego, and returned with his 
 troops to the army on Lake George. 
 
 Operations went on slowly in that part of the year's campaign in 
 which Washington was immediately engaged — the expedition 
 against Fort Duquesne. Brigadier-General Forbes, who was com- 
 mander-in-chief, was detained at Philadelphia by those delays and 
 cross-purposes incident to military affairs in a new country. Colo- 
 nel Bouquet, who was to command the advanced division, took his 
 station, with a corps of regulars, at Raystown, in the centre of 
 Pennsylvania. There slowly assembled troops from various parts. 
 Three thousand Pennsylvanians, twelve hundred and fifty South 
 Carolinians, and a few hundred men from elsewhere. 
 
 Washington, in the meantime, gathered together his scattered 
 regiment at Winchester, some from a distance of two hundred miles, 
 and diligently disciplined his recruits. He had two Virginia regi- 
 ments under him amounting, when complete, to about nineteen 
 hundred men. Seven hundred Indian warriors, also, came lagging 
 into his camp, lured by the prospect of a successful campaign. 
 
 The president of the council had given Washington a discretion- 
 ary power in the present juncture to order out militia for the pur- 
 pose of garrisoning the fort in the absence of the regular troops. 
 Washington exercised the power with extreme reluctance. He 
 considered it, he said, an affair of too important and delicate a na- 
 ture for him to manage, and apprehended the discontent it might 
 occasion. In fact, his sympathies were always with the husband- 
 men and the laborers of the soil, and he deplored the evils imposed 
 upon them by arbitrary drafts for military service ; a scruple not 
 often indulged by youthful commanders. 
 
 The force thus assembling was in want of arms, tents, field-equip- 
 age, and almost every requisite. W^ashington had made repeated 
 representations, by letter, of the destitute state of the Virginia 
 troops, but without avail ; he was now ordered by Sir John St. 
 Clair, the quartermaster-general of the forces, under General 
 Forbes, to repair to Williamsburg, and lay the state of the case be- 
 fore the council. He set off promptly on horseback, attended by 
 Bishop, the well-trained military ser\ant, who had served the late 
 General Braddock. It proved an eventful journey, though not in 
 a military point of view. In crossing a ferry of the Pamunkey, a 
 branch of York River, he fell in company with a Mr. Chamber- 
 layne, who lived in the neighborhood, and who, in the spirit of 
 Virginian hospitality, claimed him as a guest. It was with diffi- 
 culty Washington could be prevailed on to halt for dinner, so im- 
 patient was he to arrive at WiUiamsburg, and accomplish his 
 mission. 
 
 Among the guests at Mr. Chamberlayne's was a young and 
 blooming widow, Mrs. Martha Custis, daughter of Mr. John Dan- 
 dridge, both patrician names in the province. Her husband, John 
 Parke Custis, had been dead about three years, leaving her with 
 two young children, and a large fortune. She is represented as be- 
 
I04 LIFE OF WASHINGTON 
 
 ing rather below the middle size, but extremely well shaped, with an 
 agreeable countenance, dark hazel eyes and hair, and those frank, 
 engaging manners so captivating in Southern women. We are not 
 informed whether Washington had met with her before ; probably 
 not during her widowhood, as during that time he had been almost 
 continually on the frontier. We have shown that, with all his 
 gravity and reserve, he was quickly susceptible to female charms ; 
 and they may have had a greater effect upon him when thus casu- 
 ally encountered in fleeting moments snatched from the cares and 
 perplexities and rude scenes of frontier warfare. At any rate, his 
 heart appears to have been taken by surprise. 
 
 The dinner, which in those days was an earlier meal than at 
 present, seemed all too short. The afternoon passed away like a 
 dream. Bishop was punctual to the orders he had received on 
 halting ; the horses pawed at the door; but for once Washington 
 loitered in the path of duty. The horses were countennanded, and 
 it was not until the next morning that he was again in the saddle, 
 spurring for Williamsburg. Happily the Wliite House, the residence 
 of Mrs. Custis, was in New Kent County, at no great distance from 
 that city, so that he had opportunities of visiting her in the intervals 
 of business. His time for courtship, however, was brief. Military 
 duties called him back almost immediately to Wmchester ; but he 
 feared, should he leave the matter in suspense, some more enter- 
 prising rival might supplant him during his absence, as in the case 
 of Miss PhiHpse, at New York. He improved, therefore, his brief 
 opportunity to the utmost. The blooming widow had many suitors, 
 but Washington was graced with that renown so ennobling in the 
 eyes of women. In a word, before they separated, they had mu- 
 tually plighted their faith, and the marriage was to take place as 
 soon as the campaign against Fort Uuquesne was at an end. 
 
 Before returning to Winchester, Washington was obliged to hold 
 conferences with Sir John St. Clair and Colonel Bouquet, at an in- 
 termediate rendezvous, to give them information respecting the 
 frontiers, and arrange about the marching of his troops. His con- 
 stant word to them was forward ! forward ! For the precious time 
 for action was slipping away, and he feared their Indian allies, so 
 important to their security while on the march, might, with their 
 usual fickleness, lose patience, and return home. 
 
 On arriving at Winchester, he found his troops restless and dis- 
 contented from prolonged inaction. The weather was oppressively 
 warm. He now conceived the idea of equipping them in the light 
 Indian hunting garb, and even of adopting it himself. Two com- 
 panies were accordingly equipped in this style, and sent under the 
 command of Major Lewis to head-quarters. " It is an unbecoming 
 dress, I own for an officer," writes Washington, " but convenience 
 rather than a show, I think, should be consulted. The reduction 
 battle of horses alone would be sufficient to recommend it; for 
 is nothing more certain than that less baggage would be required." 
 
 The experiment was successful. "The dress takes very well 
 here," writes Colonel Bouquet; " and, thank God, we see nothing 
 but shirts and blankets. * * ■* Their dress should be one pat- 
 
I758.J A NEW ROAD TO FORT DUQUESNE. 105 
 
 tern for this expedition." Such was probably the origin of the 
 American rifle dress, afterward so much worn in warfare, and 
 modeled on the Indian costume. 
 
 The army was now annoyed by scouting parties of Indians hover- 
 ing about the neighborhood. Expresses passing between the posts 
 were fired upon; a wagoner was shot down. Washington sent out 
 counter-parties of Cherokees. Colonel Bouquet required that each 
 party should be accompanied by an officer and a number of white 
 men. Washington complied with the order, though he considered 
 them an incumbrance rather than an advantage. 
 
 On the other hand, he earnestly discountenanced a proposition of 
 Colonel Bouquet, to make an irruption into the enemy's country 
 with a strong party of regulars. Such a detachment, he observed, 
 could not be sent without a cumbersome train of supplies, which 
 would discover it to the enemy, who must at that time be collecting 
 his whole force at Fort Duquesne ; the enterprise, therefore would 
 be likely to terminate in a miscarriage, if not in the destruction of 
 the party. We shall see that his opinion was oracular. 
 
 As Washington intended to retire from military life at the close 
 of this campaign, he had proposed himself to the electors of Fred- 
 erick County as their representative in the House of Burgesses. The 
 election was coming on at Winchester ; his friends pressed him to 
 attend it, and Colonel Bouquet gave him leave of absence ; but he 
 declined to absent himself from his post for the promotion of his 
 political interests. There were three competitors in the field, yet 
 so high was the public opinion of his merit, that, though Winches- 
 ter had been his head-quarters for two or three years past, and he 
 had occasionally enforced martial law with a rigorous hand, he was 
 elected by a large majority. The election was carried on some- 
 what in the English style. There was much eating and drinking at 
 the expense of the candidate. Washington appeared on the hust- 
 ings by proxy, and his representative was chaired about the town 
 with enthusiastic applause and huzzaing for Colonel Washington. 
 
 On the 2 1st of July arrived tidings of the brilliant success of 
 that part of the scheme of the year's campaign conducted by Gen- 
 eral Amherst and Admiral Boscawen, who had reduced the strong 
 town of Louisburg and gained possession of the Island of Cape 
 Breton. This intelligence increased Washington's impatience at 
 the delays of the expedition with which he was connected. He 
 wished to rival these successes by a brilliant blow in the south. 
 Perhaps a desire for personal distinction in the eyes of the lady of 
 his choice may have been at the bottom of this impatience ; for 
 we are told that he kept up a constant correspondence with her 
 throughout the campaign. 
 
 Understanding that the commander-in-chief had some thoughts of 
 throwing a body of light troops in the advance, he wrote to Colonel 
 Bouquet, earnestly soliciting his influence to have himself and his 
 Virginia regiment included in the detachment. " If any argument 
 is needed to obtain this favor," said he, "I hope, without vanity I 
 may be allowed to say, that from long intimacy with these woods, 
 and frequent scouting in them, my men are at least as well 
 
io6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 acquainted with all the passes and difficulties as any troops that 
 will be employed." 
 
 He soon learned to his surprise, however, that the road to which 
 his men were accustomed, and which had been worked by Brad- 
 dock's troops in his campaign, was not to be taken in the present 
 expedition, but a new one opened through the heart of Pennsylva- 
 nia, from Raystown to Fort Duquesne, on the track generally 
 taken by the northern traders. He instantly commenced long and 
 repeated remonstrances on the subject ; representing that Brad- 
 dock's road, from recent examination, only needed partial repairs, 
 and showing by clear calculation that any army could reach Fort 
 Duquesne by that route in thirty-four days, so that the whole cam- 
 paign might be effected by the middle of October ; whereas the 
 extreme labor of opening a new road across mountains, swamps, 
 and through a densely wooded country, would detain them so late, 
 that the season would be over before they could reach the scene 
 of action. His representations were of no avail. The officers of 
 the regular service had received a fearful idea of Braddock's road 
 from his own dispatches, wherein he had described it as lying 
 "across mountains and rocks of an excessive height, vastly steep, 
 and divided by torrents and rivers," whereas the Pennsylvania 
 traders, who were anxious for the opening of the new road through 
 their province, described the country through which it would pass 
 as less difficult, and its streams less subject to inundation ; above 
 all, it was a direct hne, and fifty miles nearer. This route, there- 
 fore, to the great regret of Washington and the indignation of the 
 Virginia Assembly, was definitely adopted, and sixteen hundred 
 men were immediately thrown in the advance from Raystown to 
 work upon it. 
 
 The first of September found Washington still encamped at Fort 
 Cumberland, his troops sickly and dispirited, and the brilliant expe- 
 dition which he had anticipated, dwindling down into a tedious 
 operation of road-making. In the meantime, his scouts brought 
 him word that the whole force at Fort Duquesne on the 13th of 
 August, Indians included, did not exceed eight hundred men ; had 
 an early campaign been pressed forward, as he recommended, the 
 place by this time would have been captured. At length, in the 
 month of September, he received orders from General Forbes to 
 join him with his troops at Raystown, where he had just arrived, 
 having been detained by severe illness. He was received by the 
 general with the highest marks of respect. On all occasions, both 
 in private and at councils of war, that commander treated his opin- 
 ions with the greatest deference. He, moreover, adopted a plan 
 drawn out by Washington for the march of the army ; and an 
 order of battle which still exists, furnishing a proof of his skill in 
 frontier warfare. 
 
 It was now the middle of September ; yet the great body of men 
 engaged in opening the new mihtary road, after incredible toil, had 
 not advanced above forty-five miles, to a place called Loyal Han- 
 nan, a little beyond Laurel Hill. Colonel Bouquet, who com- 
 manded the division of nearly two thousand men sent forward to 
 
1758.] FOOLHARDINESS OF GRANT. 107 
 
 open this road, had halted at Loyal Hannan to establish a military 
 post and deposit. 
 
 He was upward of fifty miles from Fort Duquesne, and was 
 tempted to adopt the measure, so strongly discountenanced by 
 Washington, of sending a party on a foray into the enemy's 
 country. He accordingly detached Major Grant with eight hun- 
 dred picked men, some of them Highlanders, others, in Indian 
 garb, the part of Washington's Virginian regiment sent forward by 
 him from Cumberland under command of Major Lewis. 
 
 The instructions given to Major Grant were merely to reconnoiter 
 the country in the neighborhood of Fort Duquesne, and ascertain 
 the strength and position of the enemy. Arriving at night in the 
 neighborhood of the fort, he posted his men on a hill, and sent 
 out a party of observation, who set fire to a log house near the 
 walls and returned to the encampment. As if this were not suffi- 
 cient to put the enemy on the alert, he ordered the reveille to be 
 beaten in the morning in several places ; then, posting Major 
 Lewis with his provincial troops at a distance in the rear to pro- 
 tect the baggage, he marshaled his regulars in battle array, and 
 sent an engineer, with a covering party, to take a plan of the 
 works in full view of the garrison. 
 
 Not a gun was fired by the fort ; the silence which was main- 
 tained was mistaken for fear, and increased the arrogance and blind 
 security of the British commander. At length, when he was 
 thrown off his guard, there was a sudden sally of the garrison, and 
 an attack on the flanks by Indians hid in ambush. A scene now 
 occurred similar to that at the defeat of Braddock. The British 
 officers marshaled their men according to European tactics, and 
 the Highlanders for some time stood their ground bravely; but the 
 destructive fire and horrid yells of the Indians soon produced panic 
 and confusion. Major Lewis, at the first noise of the attack, left 
 Captain BulHtt, with fifty Virginians, to guard the baggage, and 
 hastened with the main part of his men to the scene of action. 
 The contest was kept up for some time, but the confusion was 
 irretrievable. The Indians sallied from their concealment, and 
 attacked with the tomahawk and scalping-knife. Lewis fought 
 hand to hand with an Indian brave, whom he laid dead at his feet, 
 but was surrounded by others, and only saved his hfe by surren- 
 dering himself to a French officer. Major Grant surrendered him- 
 self in like manner. The whole detachment was put to the rout 
 with dreadful carnage. 
 
 Captain Bullitt rallied several of the fugitives, and prepared to 
 make a forlorn stand, as the only charice where the enemy was 
 overwhelming and merciless. Dispatching the most valuable bag- 
 gage with the strongest horses, he made a barricade with the bag- 
 gage wagons, behind which he posted his men, giving them orders 
 how they were to act. All this was the thought and the work 
 almost of a moment, for the savages, having finished the havoc 
 and plunder of the field of battle, were hastening in pursuit of the 
 fugitives. Bullitt suffered them to come near, when, on a con- 
 certed signal, a destructive fire opened from behind the baggage 
 
io8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 wagons. They were checked for a time ; but were again pressing 
 forward in greater numbers, when BuUitt and his men held out 
 the signal of capitulation, and advanced as if to surrender. When 
 within eight yards of the enemy, they suddenly leveled their 
 arms, poured a most effective volley, and then charged with the 
 bayonet. The Indians fled in dismay, and Bullitt took advantage 
 of this check to retreat with all speed, collecting the wounded and 
 the scattered fugitives as he advanced. The routed detachment 
 came back in fragments to Colonel Bouquet's camp at Loyal Han- 
 nan, with the loss of twenty-one officers and two hundred and 
 seventy-three privates killed and taken. The Highlanders and the 
 Virginians were those that fought the best and suffered the most in 
 this bloody battle. Washington's regiment lost six officers and 
 sixty-two privates. 
 
 Washington, who was at Raystown when the disastrous news 
 arrived, was pubhcly complimented by General Forbes, on the 
 gallant conduct of his Virginian troops, and BuUitt' s behavior was 
 "a matter of great admiration." The latter was soon after re- 
 warded with a major's commission. 
 
 As a further mark of the high opinion now entertained of provin- 
 cial troops for frontier service, Washington was given the com- 
 mand of a division, partly composed of his own men, to keep in 
 the advance of the main body, clear the roads, throw out scouting 
 parties, and repel Indian attacks. 
 
 It was the 5th of November before the whole army assembled at 
 Loyal Hannan. Winter was now at hand, and upward of fifty 
 miles of wilderness were yet to be traversed, by a road not yet 
 formed, before they could reach Fort Duquesne. Again, Wash- 
 ington's predictions seemed likely to be verified, and the expedi- 
 tion to be defeated by delay ; for in a council of war it was deter- 
 mined to be impracticable to advance further with the army that 
 season. Three prisoners, however, M'ho were brought in, gave such 
 an account of the weak state of the garrison at Fort Duquesne, its 
 want of provisions, and the defection of the Indians, that it was 
 determined to push forward. The march was accordingly resumed 
 but without tents or baggage, and with only a light train of artil- 
 lery. 
 
 Washington still kept the advance. After leaving Loyal Han- 
 nan, the road presented traces of the late defeat of Grant; being 
 strewed with human bones, the sad rehcs of fugitives cut down by 
 the Indians, or of wounded soldiers who had died on the retreat; 
 they lay mouldering in various stages of decay, mingled with the 
 bones of horses and of oxen. As they approached Fort Duquesne 
 these mementoes of former disasters became more frequent, and 
 the bones of those massacred in the defeat of Braddock, still lay 
 scattered about the battle-field, whitening in the sun. 
 
 At length the army arrived in sight of Fort Duquesne, advanc- 
 ing with great precaution, and expecting a vigorous defence ; but 
 that formidable fortress, the terror and scourge of the frontier, and 
 the object of such warlike enterprise, fell without a blow. The 
 recent successes of the Enghsh forces in Canada, particularly the 
 
1758.] FORT DUQUESNE ABANDONED. 109 
 
 capture and destruction of Fort Frontenac, had left the garrison 
 without hope of reinforcements and supplies. The whole force, 
 at the time, did not exceed five hundred men, and the provisions 
 were nearly exhausted. The commander, therefore, waited only 
 until the English amiy was within one day's march, when he 
 embarked his troops at night in bateaux, blew up his magazines, set 
 fire to the fort, and retreated down the Ohio, by the light of the 
 flames. On the 25th of November, Washington, with the 
 advanced guard, marched in and planted the British flag on the 
 yet smoking ruins. 
 
 One of the first offices of the army was to collect and bur>^ in 
 one common tomb, the bones of their fellow-soldiers who had 
 fallen in the battles of Braddock and Grant In this pious duty it 
 is said every one joined, from the general down to the private sol- 
 dier ; and some veterans assisted, with heavy hearts and frequent 
 ejaculations of poignant feeling, who had been present in the scenes 
 of defeat and carnage. 
 
 The ruins of the fortress were now put in a defensible state, and 
 garrisoned by two hundred men from Washington's regiment; the 
 name was changed to that of Fort Pitt, in honor of the illustrious 
 British minister, whose measures had given vigor and effect to this 
 year's campaign; it has since been modified into Pittsburg, and 
 designates one of the most busy and populous cities of the interior. 
 
 The reduction of Fort Duquesne terminated, as Washington had 
 forseen, the troubles and dangers of the southern frontier. The 
 French domination of the Ohio was at an end ; the Indians, as 
 usual, paid homage to the conquering power, and a treaty of peace 
 was concluded with all the tribes between the Ohio and the lakes. 
 
 With this campaign ended, for the present, the military career 
 of Washington. His great object was attained, the restoration of 
 quiet and security to his native province ; and, having abandoned 
 all hope of attaining rank in the regular army, and his health being 
 much impaired, he gave up his commission at the close of the 
 year, and retired from the service, followed by the applause of his 
 fellow-soldiers, and the gratitude and admiration of all his country- 
 men. 
 
 His marriage with Mrs. Custis took place shortly after his return. 
 It was celebrated on the 6th of January, 1759, at the White House, 
 the residence of the bride, in the good old hospitable style of Vir- 
 ginia, amid a joyous assemblage of relatives and friends. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WOLFE AT QUEBEC — SURRENDER OF CANADA — WASHINGTON S 
 
 RURAL LIFE. 
 
 Before following Washington into the retirement of domestic 
 life, we think it proper to notice the events which closed the great 
 struggle between England and France for empire in America. In 
 that struggle he had first become practiced in arms, and schooled 
 
no LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 in the ways of the world ; and its results will be found connected 
 with the history of his later years. 
 
 General Abercrombie had been superseded as commander-in- 
 chief of the forces in America by Major-General Amherst, who 
 had gained great favor by the reduction of Louisburg. According 
 to the plan of operations for 1759, General Wolfe, who had risen 
 to fame by his gallant conduct in the same aifair, was to ascend 
 the St. Lawrence in a fleet of ships of war, with eight thousand 
 men, as soon as the river should be free from ice, and lay siege to 
 Quebec, the capital of Canada. General Amherst, in the mean 
 time was to advance, as Abercrombie had done, by Lake George, 
 against Ticonderoga and Crown Point ; reduce those forts, cross 
 Lake Champlain, push on to the St. Lawrence, and cooperate 
 with Wolfe. 
 
 A third expedition under Brigadier-General Prideaux, aided by 
 Sir Wilham Johnson and his Indian warriors, was to attack Fort 
 Niagara, which controlled the whole country of the Six Nations, 
 and commanded the navigation of the great lakes, and the inter- 
 course between Canada and Louisiana. Having reduced this fort, 
 he was to traverse Lake Ontario, descend the St. Lawrence, capture 
 Montreal, and join his forces with those of Amherst. 
 
 The last mentioned expedition was the first executed. General 
 Prideaux embarked at Oswego on the first of July, with a large 
 body of troops, regulars and provincials — the latter partly from 
 New York. He was accompanied by Sir William Johnson, and 
 his Indian braves of the Mohawk. Landing at an inlet of Lake 
 Ontario, within a few miles of Fort Niagara, he advanced, without 
 being opposed, and proceeded to invest it. The garrison, six hun- 
 dred strong, made a resolute defence. The siege was carried on 
 by regular approaches, but pressed with vigor. On the 20th of 
 July, Prideaux, in visiting his trenches, was killed by the bursting 
 of a cohorn. Informed by express of this misfortune. General 
 Amherst detached from the main army Brigadier-General Gage, the 
 officer who had led Braddock's advance to take the command. 
 
 In the meantime the siege had been conducted by Sir William 
 Johnson with courage and sagacity. He was .destitute of military 
 science, but had a natural aptness for warfare, especially for the 
 rough kind carried on in the wilderness. Being informed by his 
 scouts that twelve hundred regular troops, drawn from Detroit, 
 Venango, and Presque Isle, and led by D'Aubry, with a number 
 of Indian auxiliaries, were hastening to the rescue, he detached a 
 force of grenadiers and light infantry, with some of his Mohawk 
 warriors, to intercept them. They came in sight of each other on 
 the road, between Niagara Falls and the fort, within the thunder- 
 ing sound of the one, and the distant view of the other. Johnson's 
 "braves" advanced to have a parley with the hostile redskins. 
 The latter received them Avith a war-whoop, and Frenchman and 
 savage made an impetuous onset. Johnson's regulars and provin- 
 cials stood their ground firmly, while his red warriors fell on the 
 flanks of the enemy. 
 
 After a sharp conflict, the French were broken, routed and pur- 
 
I759-] WOLF DELO W QUEBEC. 1 1 1 
 
 sued through the woods, with great carnage. Among the prisoners 
 taken were seventeen officers. The next day Sir William Johnson 
 sent a trumpet summoning the garrison to surrender, to spare the 
 effusion of blood, and prevent outrages by the Indians. They had 
 no alternative ; were pennitted to march out with the honors of 
 war, and were protected by Sir William from his Indian allies. 
 Thus was secured the key to the communication between Lakes 
 Ontario and Erie, and to the vast interior region connected with 
 them. The blow alarmed the French for the safety of Montreal, 
 and De Levi, the second in command of their Canadian forces, 
 hastened up from before Quebec, and took post at the fort of 
 Oswegatchie (now Ogdensburg), to defend the passes of the St. 
 Lawrence. 
 
 In the month of July, General Amherst embarked with nearly 
 twelve thousand men, at the upper part of Lake George, and pro- 
 ceeded down it, as Abercrombie had done in the preceding year, in 
 a vast fleet of whale-boats, bateaux, and rafts, and all the glitter 
 and parade of war. On the 22d, the army embarked at the lower 
 part of the lake and advanced toward Ticonderoga. After a slight 
 skirmish with the advanced guard, they secured the old post at the 
 saw -mill. 
 
 Montcalm was no longer in the fort ; he was absent for the pro- 
 tection of Quebec. The garrison did not exceed four hundred 
 men. Bourlamarque, a brave officer, who commanded, at first 
 seemed disposed to make defence ; but, against such overwhelming 
 force, it would have been madness. Dismantling the fortifications, 
 therefore, he abandoned them, as he did hkewise those at Crown 
 Point, and retreated down the lake, to assemble forces, and make 
 a stand at the Isle Aux Noix, for the protection of Montreal and the 
 province. 
 
 Instead of following him up, and hastening to cooperate with 
 Wolfe, General Amherst proceeded to repair the works at Ticonde- 
 roga, and erect a new fort at Crown Point, though neither were in 
 present danger of being attacked, nor would be of use if Canada 
 were conquered. Amherst, however, was one of those cautious 
 men, who, in seeking to be sure, are apt to be fatally slow. His 
 delay enabled the enemy to rally their forces at Isle Aux Noix, and 
 call in Canadian reinforcements, while it deprived Wolfe of that co- 
 operation which was most essential to the general success of the 
 campaign. 
 
 Wolfe with his eight thousand men, ascended the St. Lawrence 
 in the fleet, in the month of June. With him came Brigadiers 
 Monckton, Townshend and Murray, youthful and brave like him- 
 self, and like himself, already schooled in arms. Monckton, it 
 will be recollected, had signalized himself, when a colonel, in the 
 expedition in 1755, in which the French were driven from Nova 
 Scotia. The grenadiers of the army were commanded by Colonel 
 Guy Carleton, and part of the light infantry by Lieutenant-Colonel 
 WYlIiam Howe, both destined to celebrity in after years, in the an- 
 nals of the American Revolution. Colonel Howe was brother of 
 
112 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the gallant Lord Howe, whose fall in the preceding year was so 
 
 generally lamented. 
 
 About the end of June, the troops debarked on the large, popu- 
 lous and well-cultivated Isle of Orleans, a little below Quebec, and 
 encamped in its fertile fields. Quebec, the citadel of Canada, was 
 strong by nature. It was built round the point of a rocky promon- 
 tory, and flanked by precipices. The crystal current of the St. 
 Lawrence swept by it on the right, and the river St. Charles flowed 
 along on the left, before mingling with that mighty stream. The 
 place was tolerably fortified, but art had not yet rendered it, as at 
 the present day, impregnable. 
 
 Montcalm commanded the post. His troops were more numer- 
 ous than the assailants ; but the greater part were Canadians, 
 many of them inhabitants of Quebec ; and he had a host of 
 savages. His forces were drawn out along the northern shore be- 
 low the city, from the river St. Charles to the Falls of Montmon- 
 rency, and their posidon was secured by deep intrenchments. 
 
 The night after the debarkation of Wolfe's troops a furious storm 
 caused great damage to the transports, and sank some of the 
 small craft. While it was still raging, a number of fire-ships, sent 
 to destroy the fleet, came driving down. They were boarded in- 
 trepidly by the Bridsh seamen, and towed out of the way of doing 
 harm. After much resistance, Wolfe established batteries at the 
 west point of the Isle of Orleans, and at Point Levi, on the right 
 (or south) bank of the St. Lawrence, within cannon range of the 
 city. Colonel Guy Carleton, commander at the former battery ; 
 Brigadier Monckton at the latter. From Point Levi bomb-shells 
 and red-hot shot were discharged ; many houses were set on fire 
 in the upper town, the lower town was reduced to rubbish ; the 
 main fort, however, remained unharmed. 
 
 Anxious for a decisive action, W^olfe, on the 9th day of July, 
 crossed over in boats from the Isle of Orleans, to the north bank 
 of the St. Lawrence, and encamped below the Montmorency. It 
 was an ill-judged position, for there was still that tumultuous 
 stream, with its rocky banks, between him and the camp of Mont- 
 calm ; but the ground he had chosen was higher than that occu- 
 pied by the latter, and the Montmorency had a ford below the 
 falls, passable at low tide. Another ford was discovered, three 
 miles within land, but the banks were steep, and shagged with 
 forest. At both fords the vigilant Montcalm had thrown up breast- 
 works, and posted troops. 
 
 On the 1 8th of July, Wolfe made a reconnoitering expedition up 
 the river, with two armed sloops, and two transports with troops. 
 He passed Quebec unharmed, and carefully noted the shores above 
 it. Rugged cliffs rose almost from the water's edge. Above them 
 he was told, was an extent of level ground, called the Plains of 
 Abraham, by which the upper town might be approached on its 
 weakest side ; but how was that plain to be attained, when the 
 cliffs, for the most part, were inaccessible, and every practicable 
 place fortified? 
 
 He returned to Montmorency disappointed, and resolved to at- 
 
1 759. J THE FALLS OF MONTMORENCY. 1 1 3 
 
 tack Montcalm in his camp, however difficult to be approached, 
 and however strongly posted. Townshend and Murray, with their 
 brigades were to cross the Montmorency at low tide, below the 
 falls, and storm the redoubt thrown up in front of the ford. Monck- 
 ton, at the same time, was to cross, with part of his brigade, in 
 boats from Point Levi. 
 
 As usual, in complicated orders, part were misunderstood, or neg- 
 lected, and confusion was the consequence. Many of the boats 
 from Point Levi ran aground on a shallow in the river, where they 
 were exposed to a severe fire of shot and shells. Wolfe, was on 
 the shore, directing everything, endeavored to stop his impatient 
 troops until the boats could be got afloat, and the men landed. 
 Thirteen companies of grenadiers, and two hundred provincials 
 were the first to land. Without waiting for Brigadier Monckton 
 and his regiments ; without waiting for the cooperation of the 
 troops under Townshend ; without waiting even to be drawn up in 
 form, the grenadiers rushed impetuously toward the enemy's in- 
 trenchments. A sheeted fire mowed them down, and drove them 
 to take shelter behind the redoubt, near the ford, which the enemy 
 had abandoned. Here they remained, unable to form under the 
 gaUing fire to which they were exposed, whenever they ventured 
 from their covert. Monckton' s brigade at length was landed, 
 drawn up in order, and advanced, to their relief, driving back the 
 enemy. Thus protected, the grenadiers retreated as precipitately 
 as they had advanced, leaving many of their comrades wounded 
 on the field, who were massacred and scalped in their sight, by the 
 savages. The delay thus caused was fatal to the enterprise. The 
 day was advanced ; the weather became stormy ; the tide began to 
 make ; at a later hour, retreat, in case of a second repulse, would 
 be impossible. Wolfe, therefore, gave up the attack, and withdrew 
 across the river, having lost upward of four hundred men through 
 this headlong impetuosity of the grenadiers. The two vessels which 
 had been run aground, were set on fire, lest they should fall into 
 the hands of the enemy. 
 
 Brigadier Murray was now detached with twelve hundred men, 
 in transports, to ascend above the town, and cooperate with Rear- 
 Admiral Holmes, in destroying the enemy's shipping, and making 
 descents upon the north shore. The shipping were safe from 
 attack ; some stores and ammunition were destroyed ; some pris- 
 oners taken, and Murray returned with the news of the capture of 
 Fort Niagara, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point, and that Amherst 
 was preparing to attack the Isle Aux Noix. 
 
 Wolfe, of a delicate constitution and sensitive nature, had 
 been deeply mortified by the severe check sustained at the 
 Falls of Montmorency, fancying himself disgraced ; and these 
 successes of his fellow-commanders in other parts increased 
 his self-upbraiding. The difficulties multiplying around him, 
 and the delay of General Amherst in hastening to his 
 aid, preyed incessantly on his spirits ; he was dejected 
 even to despondency, and declared he would never return 
 without success, to be exposed, like other unfortunate com- 
 
114 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 manders, to the sneers and reproaches. The agitation of his mind, 
 and his acute sensibility, brought on a fever, which for some time 
 incapacitated him from taking the field. 
 
 In the midst of his illness he called a council of war, in which 
 the whole plan of operations was altered. It was determined to 
 convey the troops above the town, and endeavor to make a diver- 
 sion in that direction, or draw Montcalm into the open field. 
 
 The brief Canadian summer was over ; they were in the month 
 of September. The camp at Montmorency was broken up. The 
 troops were transported to Point Levi, leaving a sufficient number 
 to man the batteries on the Isle of Orleans. On the 
 fifth and sixth of September the embarkation took place above 
 Point Levi, in transports which had been sent up for the purpose. 
 Montcalm detached De Bougainville with fifteen hundred men to 
 keep along the north shore above the town, watch the move- 
 ments of the squadron, and prevent a landing. To deceive him, 
 Admiral Holmes moved with the ships of war three leagues beyond 
 the place where the landing was to be attempted. He was to drop 
 down, however, in the night, and protect the landing. Cook, the 
 future discoverer, also, was employed with others to sound the 
 river and place buoys opposite the camp of Montcalm, as if an 
 attack were meditated in that quarter. 
 
 Wolfe was still suffering under the effects of his late fever. " My 
 constitution," writes he to a friend, " is entirely ruined, without the 
 consolation of having done any considerable service to the state, 
 and without any prospect of it." Still he was unremitteing in his 
 exertions, seeking to wipe out the fancied disgrace incurred at the 
 Falls of Montmorency. It wasin this mood he is said to have com- 
 posed and sung at his evening mess that Httle campaigning song 
 still linked with his name : 
 
 Why, soldiers, why 
 Should we be melancholy, boys ? 
 Why, soldiers, why ? 
 Whose business 'tis to die! 
 
 Even when embarked in his midnight enterprise, the presentiment 
 of death seems to have cast its shadow over him. The boats 
 floated down silently with the current, he recited, in low and 
 touching tones, Gray's Elegy in a country churchyard, then just 
 pubhshed. One stanza may especially have accorded with his 
 melancholy mood. 
 
 'The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
 And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
 
 Await alike the inevitable hour. 
 The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," said he, when he had finished, "I would 
 rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec." 
 
 The descent was made in flat-bottomed boats, past midnight, on 
 the 13th of September. They dropped down with the swift current. 
 " Qui va la ? " (who goes there ? ) cried a sentinel from the shore. 
 
1759.] WOLFE BEFORE THE BATTLE. 115 
 
 ** La France,'" replied a captain in the first boat, who understood 
 the French language. 
 
 '* A quel regiment?'" was the demand. "De la Reine'' (the 
 queen's), replied the captain, knowing that regiment was in De 
 Bougainville's detachment. Fortunately, a convoy of provisions 
 was expected down from De Bougainville's which the sentinel sup- 
 posed this to be. "Passe, " cried he, and the boats glided on 
 without further challenge. The landing took place in a cove near 
 Cape Diamond, which still bears Wolfe's name. He had marked 
 it in reconnoitering, and saw that a cragged path straggled up from 
 it to the Heights of Abraham, which might be climbed, though 
 with difficulty, and that it appeared to be slightly guarded at top. 
 Wolfe was among the first that landed and ascended up the steep 
 and narrow path, where not more than two could go abreast, and 
 which had been broken up by cross ditches. Colonel Howe, at 
 the same time, with the light infantry and Highlanders, scrambled 
 up the woody precipices, helping themselves by the roots and 
 branches putting to flight a sergeant's guard posted at the sum- 
 mit. Wolfe drew up the men in order as they mounted ; and by 
 the break of day found himself in possession of the fateful Plains of 
 Abraham. 
 
 Montcalm was thunderstruck when word was brought to him in 
 his camp that the English were on the heights threatening the 
 weakest part of the town. Abandoning his intrenchments, he 
 hastened across the river St. Charles and ascended the heights, 
 which slope up gradually from its banks. His force was equal in 
 number to that of the English, but a great part was made up of 
 colony troops and savages. When he saw the formidable host of 
 regulars he had to contend with, he sent off swift messengers to 
 summon De Bougainville with his detachment to his aid ; and De 
 Vaudreuil to reinforce him with fifteen hundred men from the 
 camp. In the mean time he prepared to flank the left of the Eng- 
 lish hne and force them to the opposite precipices. Wolfe saw his 
 aim, and sent Brigadier Townshend to counteract him with a regi- 
 ment which was formed en potence, and supported by two battal- 
 ions, presenting on the left a double front. 
 
 The French, in their haste, thinking they were to repel a mere 
 scouting party, had brought but three light field-pieces with them ; 
 the English had but a single gun, which the sailors had dragged 
 up the heights. With these they cannonaded each other for a 
 time, Montcalm still waiting for the aid he had summoned. At 
 length, about nine o'clock, losing all patience, he led on his disci- 
 plined troops to a close conflict with small-arms, the Indians to 
 support them by a galhng fire from thickets and corn-fields. The 
 French advanced gallantly, but irregularly ; firing rapidly, but with 
 little effect. The English reserved their fire until their assailants 
 were within forty yards, and, then dehvered it in deadly vol- 
 leys. They suffered, however, from the lurking savages, who 
 singled out the officers. Wolfe, who was in front of the line, a 
 conspicious mark, was wounded by a ball in the wrist. He bound 
 his handkerchief round the wound and led on the grenadiers, with 
 
ii6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 fixed bayonets, to charge the foe, who began to waver. Another 
 ball struck him in the breast. He felt the wound to be mortal, and 
 feared his fall might dishearten the troops. Leaning on a heuten- 
 ant for support; " Let not my brave fellows see me drop," said he 
 faintly. He was borne off to the rear ; water was brought to quench 
 his thirst, and he was asked if he would have a surgeon. " It is 
 needless," he repHed ; " it is all over with me." He desired those 
 about him to lay him down. The lieutenant seated himself on the 
 ground, and supported him in his arms. "They run! they run! 
 see how they run!" cried one of the attendants. "Who run?" 
 demanded Wolfe, earnestly, like one aroused from sleep. "The 
 enemy, sir; they give way everywhere." The spirit of the 
 expiring hero flashed up. " Go, one of you, my lads, to Colonel 
 Burton; tell him to march Webb's regiment with all speed down 
 to Charles River, to cut off the retreat by the bridge. " Then 
 turning on his side ; " Now, God be praised I will die in peace ! " 
 said he, and expired, — soothed in his last moments by the idea 
 that victory would obliterate the imagined disgrace at Mont- 
 morency. 
 
 Brigadier Muiray had indeed broken the center of the enemy, 
 and the Highlanders were making deadly havoc with their clay- 
 mores, driving the French into the town or down to their works on 
 the river St. Charles. Monckton, the first brigadier, was disabled 
 by a wound in the lungs, and the command devolved on Town- 
 shend, who hastened to re-form the troops of the center, disordered 
 in pursuing the enemy. By this time De Bougainville appeared 
 at a distance in the rear, advancing with two thousand fresh troops, 
 but he arrived to late to retrieve the day. The gallant Montcalm 
 had received his death-wound near St. John's Gate, while en- 
 deavoring to rally his flying troops, and had been borne into the 
 town. 
 
 Townshend advanced with a force to receive De Bougainville ; 
 but the latter avoided a combat, and retired into woods and 
 swamps, where it was not thought prudent to follow him. The 
 English had obtained a complete victory ; slain about five hundred 
 of the enemy ; taken above a thousand prisoners, and among them 
 several officers ; and had a strong position on the Plains of 
 Abraham, which they hastened to fortify with redoubts and 
 artillery, drawn up the heights. 
 
 The brave Montcalm wrote a letter to General Townshend, 
 recommending the prisoners to British humanity. When told by 
 his surgeon that he could not survive above a few hours: "So 
 much the better," replied he; "I shall not live to see the sur- 
 render of Quebec." To De Ramsay, the French king's lieutenant 
 who commanded the garrison, he consigned the defence of the 
 city. "To your keeping," said he, "I commend the honor of 
 France. I'll neither give orders, nor interfere any further. I have 
 business to attend to of greater moment than your ruined garrison, 
 and this wretched country. My time is short — I shall pass this 
 night with God, and prepare myself for death. I wish you all 
 comfort ; and to be happily extricated from your present perplcxi- 
 
I759-] SURRENDER OF CANADA. 1 17 
 
 ties." He then called for his chaplain, who, with the bishop of 
 the colony, remained with him through the night. He expired 
 early in the morning, dying like a brave soldier and a devout 
 Catholic. Never did two worthier foes mingle their life blood on 
 the battle-field than Wolfe and Montcalm. 
 
 Preparations were now made by the army and the fleet to make 
 an attack on both upper and lower town ; but the spirit of the gar- 
 rison was broken, and the inhabitants were clamorous for the 
 safety of their wives and children. On the 17th of September, 
 Quebec capitulated, and was taken possession of by the British, 
 who hastened to put it in a complete posture of defence. A gar- 
 rison of six thousand effective men was placed in it, under the 
 command of Brigadier-General Murray, and victualed from the 
 fleet. 
 
 Had Amherst followed up his success at Ticonderoga the pre- 
 ceding summer, the year's campaign would have ended, as had 
 been projected, in the subjugation of Canada. His cautious delay 
 gave De Levi, the successor of Montcalm, time to rally, concern- 
 trate the scattered French forces, and struggle for the salvation of 
 the province. 
 
 In the following spring, as soon as the river 5t. Lawrence opened 
 he approached (2uebec, and landed at Point au Tremble, about 
 twelve miles off. The garrison had suffered dreadfully during the 
 winter from excessive cold, Avant of vegetables and of fresh 
 provisions. Many had died of scurvy, and many more were ill. 
 Murray, sanguine and injudicious, on hearing that De Levi Avas 
 advancing with ten thousand men, and five hundred Indians, 
 sallied out with his diminished forces of not more than three 
 thousand. English soldiers, he boasted, were habituated to 
 victory ; he had a fine train of artillery, and stood a better chance 
 in the field than cooped up in a wretched fortification. If defeated 
 he would defend the place to the last extremity, and then retreat to 
 the Isle of Orleans, and wait for reinforcements. More brave than 
 discreet, he attacked the vanguard of the enemy ; the battle which 
 took place was fierce and sanguinary. Murray's troops had 
 caught his own headlong valor, and fought until near a third of 
 their number were slain. They were at length driven back into the 
 town, leaving their boasted train of artillery on the field. 
 
 De Levi opened trenches before the town the very evening of 
 the battle. Three French ships, which had descended the river, 
 furnished him with cannon, mortars, and ammunition. By the 
 nth of May, he had one bomb battery, and three batteries of 
 cannon. Murray, equally alert within the walls, strengthened his 
 defences, and kept up a vigorous fire. His garrison was now 
 reduced to two hundred and twenty effective men, and he himself, 
 with all his vaunting spirit, was driven almost to despair, when a 
 British fleet arrived in the river. The whole scene was now 
 reversed. One of the French frigates was driven on the rocks 
 above Cape Diamond ; another ran on shore, and was burned ; the 
 rest of their vessels were either taken, or destroyed. The besieg- 
 ing army retreated in the night, leaving provisions, implements. 
 
Ii8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and artillery behind them ; and so rapid was their flight, that 
 Murray, who saUied forth on the following day, could not over- 
 take them. 
 
 A last stand for the preservation of the colony was now made by 
 the French at Montreal, where De Vaudreuil fixed his head-quar- 
 ters, fortified himself, and called ia all possible aid, Canadian and 
 Indian. 
 
 The cautious, but tardy Amherst was now in the field to carry 
 out the plan in which he had fallen short in the previous year. He 
 sent orders to General Murray to advance by water against 
 Montreal, with all the force that could be spared from Quebec ; he 
 detached a body of troops under Colonel Haviland from Crown 
 Point, to cross Lake Champlain, take possession of the Isle Aux 
 Noix, and push oa to the St. Lawrence, while he took the round- 
 about way with his main army by the Mohawk and Oneida rivers 
 to Lake Ontario ; thence to descend the St. Lawrence to Montreal. 
 
 Murray, according to orders, embarked his troops in a great 
 number of small vessels, and ascended the river in characteristic 
 style, publishing manifestoes in the Canadian villages, disarming 
 the inhabitants, and exacting the oath of neutrality. He looked 
 forward to new laureis at Montreal, but the slow and sure Amherst 
 had anticipated him. That worthy general, after delaying on Lake 
 Ontario to send out cruisers, and stopping to repair petty forts on 
 the upper part of the St, Lawrence, which had been deserted by 
 their garrisons, or surrendered without firing a gun, arrived on the 
 6th of September at the island of Montreal, routed some light skir- 
 mishing parties, and presented himself before the town. Vaudreuil 
 found himself threatened by an army of nearly ten thousand men, 
 and a host of Indians ; for Amherst had called in the aid of Sir 
 William Johnson, and his Mohawk braves. To withstand a siege 
 in an almost open town against such superior force, was out of the 
 question ; especially as Murray from Quebec, and Haviland from 
 Crown Point, were at hand with additional troops. A capitulation 
 accordingly took place on the 8th of September, including the sur- 
 render not merely of Montreal, but of all Canada. 
 
 Thus ended the contest between France and England for 
 dominion in America, in which, as has been said, the first gun was 
 fired in Washington's encounter with De Jumonville. A French 
 statesman and diplomatist consoled himself by the persuasion that 
 it would be a fatal triumph to England. It would remove the only 
 check by which her colonies, were kept in awe. "They will no 
 longer need her protection," said he; "she will call on them to 
 contribute toward supporting the burdens they have helped to 
 bring on her, and they will ajtswer by striking off all dependefice.'' 
 
 For three months after his marriage, Washington resided with 
 his bride at the "White House." During his sojourn there, he 
 repaired to Williamsburg, to take his seat in the House of Bur- 
 gesses. By a vote of the House it had been determined to greet 
 his installation by a signal testimonial of respect. Accordingly, as 
 soon as he took his seat, Mr. Robinson, the Speaker, in eloquent 
 language, dictated by the warmth of private friendship, returned 
 
1759.] RURAL LIFE. 
 
 I '9 
 
 thanks, on behalf of the colony, for the distinguished military 
 services he had rendered to his country. Washington rose to reply ; 
 blushed— stammered— trembled, and could not utter a word. "Sit 
 down, Mr. Washington," said the Speaker, with a smile ; "your 
 modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any 
 language I possess. " Such was Washington's first launch into civil 
 hfe, m which he was to be distinguished by the same judgment, 
 devotion, courage, and magnanimity exhibited in his military 
 career. He attended the House frequently during the remainder 
 of the session, after which he conducted his bride to his favorite 
 abode of Mount Vernon. 
 
 Mr. Custis, the first husband of Mrs. Washington, had left large 
 landed property, and forty-five thousand pounds sterUng in money. 
 Ojie-third fell to his widow in her own right ; two-thirds were 
 mherited equally by her two children— a boy of six, and a girl of 
 four years of age. By a decree of the General Court. Washington 
 was mtrusted with the care of the property inherited by the 
 children ; a sacred and delicate trust, which he discharged in the 
 most faithful and judicious manner ; becoming more like a parent, 
 than a mere guardian to them. 
 
 From a letter to his correspondent in England, it would appear 
 that he had long entertained a desire to visit that country. His 
 marriage had put an end to all traveling inclinations. In his letter 
 from Mount Vernon, he writes: " I am now, I believe, fixed in this 
 seat, with an agreeable partner for life, and I hope to find more 
 happiness in retirement than I ever experienced in the wide and 
 bustling world." 
 
 This was no Utopian dream transiently indulged, amid the 
 charms of novelty. It was a deliberate purpose with him. the re- 
 sult of innate and enduring inclinations. Throughout the whole 
 course of his career, agricultural hfe appears to have been his beau 
 ideal o{ existence, which haunted his thoughts even amid the stern 
 duties of the field, and to which he recurred with unflagging inter- 
 est whenever enabled to indulge his natural bias. 
 
 Mount Vernon was his harbor of repose, where he repeatedly 
 furled his sails and fancied himself anchored for life. No impulse 
 of ambition tempted him thence ; nothing but the call of his coun- 
 try and his devotion to the public good. The place was endeared 
 to him by the remembrance of his brother Lawrence, and of the 
 happy days he had passed here with that brother in the davs of 
 boyhood ; but it was a delightful place in itself, and well calcu- 
 lated to inspire the rural feeling. 
 
 The mansion was beautifully situated on a swelling height, 
 crowned with wood, and commanding a magnificent view up and 
 down the Potomac. The grounds immediately about it were laid 
 out somewhat in the English taste. The estate was apportioned 
 into separate farms, devoted to different kinds of culture, each hav- 
 ing Its allotted laborers. Much, however, was still covered with 
 wild woods, seamed with deep dells and runs of water, and in- 
 dented with inlets ; haunts of deer, and lurking-places of foxes. 
 The whole woody region along the Potomac from Mount Vernon to 
 
I20 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Belvoir, and far beyond, with its range of forests and hills, and 
 picturesque promontories, afforded sport of various kinds, and was 
 a noble hunting-ground. Washington had hunted through it with 
 old Lord Fairfax in his stripling days ; we do not wonder that his 
 feelings throughout life incessantly reverted to it. 
 
 " No estate in United America," observes he, in one of his letters, 
 "is more pleasantly situated. In a high and healthy country ; in 
 a latitude between the extremes of heat and cold ; on one of the 
 finest rivers in the world ; a river well stocked with various kinds 
 of fish at all seasons of the year ; and in the spring with shad, 
 herrings, bass, carp, sturgeon, etc., in great abundance. The 
 borders of the estate are washed by more than ten miles of tide 
 water ; several valuable fisheries appertain to it ; the whole shore, 
 in fact, is one entire fishery." 
 
 These were, as yet, the aristocratical days of Virginia. The 
 estates were large, and continued in the same families by entails. 
 Many of the wealthy planters were connected with old families in 
 England. The young men, especially the elder sons, were often 
 sent to finish their education there, and on their return brought out 
 the tastes and habits of the mother country. The governors of 
 Virginia were from the higher ranks of society, and maintained a 
 corresponding state. The "established," or Episcopal church, 
 predominated throughout the "ancient dominion," as it was 
 termed ; each county was divided into parishes, as in England — 
 each with its parochial church, its parsonage, and glebe. Wash- 
 ington was vestryman of two parishes, Fairfax and Truro ; the pa- 
 rochial church of the former was at Alexandria, ten miles from 
 Mount Vernon ; of the latter, at Pohick, about seven miles. The 
 church at Pohick was rebuilt on a plan of his own, and in a great 
 ineasure at his expense. At one or other of these churches he 
 attended eveiy Sunday, when the weather and the roads permitted. 
 His demeanor was reverential and devout. Mrs. Washington knelt 
 during the prayers ; he always stood, as was the custom at that 
 time. Both were communicants. 
 
 Among his occasional visitors and associates were Captain Hugh 
 Mercer and Dr. Craik ; the former, after his narrow escapes from 
 the tomahawk and scalping-knife, was quietly settled at Fredericks- 
 burg ; the latter, after the campaigns on the frontier were over, had 
 taken up his residence at Alexandria, and was now Washmgton's 
 family physician. Both were drawn to him by campaigning ties 
 and recollections, and were ever welcome at Mount Vernon. 
 
 A style of living prevailed among the opulent Virginian famihes 
 in those days that has long since faded away. The houses were 
 spacious, commodious, liberal in all their appointments, and fitted 
 to cope with the free-handed, open-hearted hospitality of the 
 owners. Nothing was more common than to see handsome ser- 
 vices of plate, elegant equipages, and superb carriages, horses — all 
 imported from England. 
 
 The Virginians have always been noted for their love of horses; 
 a manly passion which, in those days of opulence, they indulged, 
 without regard to expense. The rich planters vied with each other 
 
THOMAS JEFFERSON. 
 
1759-63-] ARISTOCRA TICAL DA YS OF VIRGINIA. 121 
 
 in their studs, importing the best English stocks. Mention is made 
 of one of the Randolphs of Tuckahoe, who built a stable for his 
 favorite dapple-gray horse, Shakespeare, with a recess for the bed 
 of the negro groom, who always slept beside him at night. 
 
 Washington, by his marriage, had added above one hundred 
 thousand dollars to his already considerable fortune, and was en- 
 abled to live in ample and dignified style. His intimacy with the 
 Fairfaxes, and his intercourse with British officers of rank, had per- 
 haps had their influence on his mode of living. He had his chariot 
 and four, with black postillions in livery, for the use of Mrs. Wash- 
 ington and her lady visitors. As for himself, he always appeared 
 on horseback. His stable was well filled and admirably regulated. 
 His stud was thoroughbred and in excellent order. 
 
 A large Virginia estate, in those days, was a little empire. The 
 mansion house was the seat of government, with its numerous de- 
 pendencies, such as kitchens, smoke-house, workshops and stables. 
 In this mansion the planter ruled supreme ; his steward or overseer 
 was his prime minister and executive officer ; he had his legion of 
 house negroes for domestic service, and his host of field negroes for 
 the culture of tobacco, Indian corn, and other crops, and for other 
 out of door labor. Their quarters formed a kind of hamlet apart, 
 composed of various huts, with little gardens and poultry yards, all 
 well stocked, and swarms of little negroes gamboling in the sun- 
 shine. Then there were large wooden edifices for curing tobacco, 
 the staple and most profitable production, and mills for grinding 
 wheat and Indian corn, of which large fields were cultivated for 
 for the supply of the family and the maintenance of the negroes. 
 
 Among the slaves were artificers of all kinds, tailors, shoemakers, 
 carpenters, smiths, wheelwrights, and so forth ; so that a plantation 
 produced everything within itself for ordinary use: as to articles 
 of fashion and elegance, luxuries, and expensive clothing, they 
 were imported from London ; for the planters on the main rivers, 
 especially the Potomac, carried on an immediate trade with Eng- 
 land. Their tobacco was put up by their own negroes, bore their 
 own marks, was shipped on board of vessels which came up the 
 rivers for the purpose, and consigned to some agent in Liverpool 
 or Bristol, with whom the planter kept an account. 
 
 The Virginia planters were prone to leave the care of their estates 
 too much to their overseers, and to think personal labor a degreda- 
 tion. Washington carried into his rural affairs the same method, 
 activity, and circumspection that had distinguished him in military 
 life. He kept his own accounts, posted up his books and balanced 
 them with mercantile exactness. 
 
 The products of his estate also became so noted for the faithful- 
 ness, as to quality and quantity, with which they were put up, that 
 it is said any barrel of flour that bore the brand of George Wash- 
 ington, Mount Vernon, was exempted from the customary inspec- 
 tion in the W^est India ports. 
 
 He was an early riser, often before daybreak in the winter when 
 the nights were long. On such occasions he lit his own fire and 
 wrote or read by candle-light. He breakfasted at seven in sum- 
 
122 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 mer, at eight in winter. Two small cups of tea and three or four 
 cakes of Indian meal (called hoe cakes), foiTned his frugal repast. 
 Immediately after breakfast he mounted his horse and visited those 
 parts of the estate where any work was going on, seeing to every- 
 thing with his own eyes, and often aiding with his own hand. 
 
 Dinner was served at two o'clock. He ate heartily, but was no 
 epicure, nor critical about his food. His beverage was small beer 
 or cider, and two glasses of old Madeira. He took tea, of which 
 he w^as very fond, early in the evening, and retired for the night 
 about nine o'clock. 
 
 If confined to the house by bad weather, he took that occasion 
 to arrange his papers, post up his accounts, or write letters ; pass- 
 ing part of the time in reading, and occasionally reading aloud to 
 the family. 
 
 He treated his negroes with kindness ; attended to their com- 
 forts ; was particularly careful of them in sickness ; but never 
 tolerated idleness, and exacted a faithful performance of all their 
 allotted tasks. He had a quick eye at calculating each man's 
 capabilities. An entry in his diary gives a curious instance of this. 
 Four of his negroes, employed as carpenters, were hcAving and 
 shaping timber. It appeared to him, in noticing the amount of 
 work accomplished between two succeeding mornings, that they 
 loitered at their labor. Sitting down quietly he timed their opera- 
 tions ; how long it took them to get their cross-cut saw and other 
 implements ready ; how long to clear away the branches from the 
 trunk of a fallen tree ; how long to hew and saw it ; what time was 
 expended in considering and consulting, and after all, how much 
 work was effected during the time he looked on. From this he 
 made his computation how much they could execute in the 
 course of a day, working entirely at their ease. 
 
 At another time we find him working for a part of two days 
 with Peter, his smith, to make a plow on a new invention of his 
 own. This, after two or three failures, he accomplished. Then, 
 with less than his usual judgment, he put his two chariot horses to 
 the plow, and ran a great risk of spoiling them, in giving his new 
 invention a trial overground thickly swarded. 
 
 Anon, during a thunderstorm, a frightened negro alarms the 
 house with word that the mill is giving way, upon which there is a 
 general turn out of all the forces, with Washington at their head, 
 wheehng and shovehng gravel, during a pelting rain, to check the 
 rushing water. 
 
 Washington delighted in the chase. In the hunting season, 
 when he rode out early in the morning to visit distant parts of the 
 estate, where work was going on, he often took some of the dogs 
 with him for the chance of starting a fox, which he occasionally 
 did, though he was not always successful in killing him. He was 
 a bold rider and an admirable horseman, though he never claimed 
 the merit of being an accomplished fox-hunter. In the height of 
 the season, however, he would be out with the fox-hounds two or 
 three times a week, accompanied by his guests at Mount Vernon 
 and the gentlemen of the neighborhood, especially the Fairfaxes 
 
I759-63-] AQUATIC RECREATIONS. 123 
 
 of Belvoir, of which estate his friend George William Fairfax was 
 now the proprietor. On such occasions there would be a hunting 
 dinner at one or other of those establishments, at which convivial 
 repasts Washington is said to have enjoyed himself with unwonted 
 hilarity. 
 
 Now and then his old friend and instructor in the noble art of 
 venery, Lord Fairfax, would be on a visit to his relatives at Bel- 
 voir, and then the hunting was kept up with unusual spirit. 
 
 His lordship, however, since the alarms of Indian war had 
 ceased, lived almost entirely at Greenway Court, where Washing- 
 ton was occasionally a guest, when called by public business to 
 Winchester. Lord Fairfax had made himself a favorite through- 
 out the neighborhood. As lord-Heutenant and custos rotulorum of 
 Frederick county, he presided at county courts held at W^inchestcr, 
 where, during the sessions, he kept open table. He acted also as 
 surveyor and overseer of the public roads and highways, and was 
 unremitting in his exertions and plans for the improvement of the 
 country. Hunting, however, was his passion. When the sport 
 was poor near home, he would take his hounds to a distant part of 
 the country, establish himself at an inn, and keep open house and 
 open table to every person of good character and respectable ap- 
 pearance who chose to join him in following the hounds. 
 
 It was probably in quest of sport of the kind that he now and 
 then, in the hunting season, revisited his old haunts and former 
 companions on the banks of the Potomac, and then the beautiful 
 woodland region about Belvoir and Mount Vernon was sure to ring 
 at early morn with the inspiring music of the hound. 
 
 The waters of the Potomac also afforded occasional amusement 
 in fishing and shooting. The fishing was sometimes on a grand 
 scale, when the herrings came up the river in shoals, and the negroes 
 of Mount Vernon were marshaled forth to draw the seine, which 
 was generally done with great success. Canvas-back ducks 
 abounded at the proper season, and the shooting of them was one 
 of Washington's favorite recreations. The river border of his 
 domain, however, was somewhat subject to invasion. An oysterman 
 once anchored his craft at the landing-place, and disturbed the 
 quiet of the neighborhood by the insolent and disorderly conduct 
 of himself and crew. It took a campaign of three days to expel 
 these invaders from the premises. 
 
 A more summary course was pursued with another interloper. 
 This was a vagabond who infested the creeks and inlets which bor- 
 dered the estate, lurking in a canoe among the reeds and bushes, 
 and making great havoc among the canvas-back ducks. He had 
 been warned off repeatedly, but without effect. As Washington was 
 one day riding about the estate he heard the report of a gun from the 
 margin of the river. Spurring in that direction he dashed through the 
 bushes and came upon the culprit just as he was pushing his canoe 
 from shore. The latter raised his gun with a menacing look ; but 
 Washington rode into the stream, seized the painter of the canoe, 
 drew it to shore, sprang from his horse, wrested the gun from the 
 hands of the astonished delinquent, and inflicted on him a lesson 
 
124 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 in "Lynch law" that effectually cured him of all incHnation to 
 trespass again on these forbidden shores. 
 
 The Potomac, in the palmy days of Virginia, was occasionally the 
 scene of a little aquatic state and ostentation among the rich plant- 
 ers who resided on its banks. They had beautiful barges, which, 
 like their land equipages, were imported from England; and mention 
 is made of a Mr. Digges who always received Washington in his 
 barge, rowed by six negroes, arrayed in a kind of uniform of check 
 shirts and black velvet caps. At one time, according to notes in 
 Washington's diary, the whole neighborhood is thrown into a par- 
 oxysm of festivity, by the anchoring of a British frigate (the 
 Boston) in the river, just in front of the hospitable mansion of the 
 Fairfaxes. A succession of dinners and breakfasts take place at 
 Mount Vernon and Belvoir, with occasional tea parties on board 
 of the frigate. The commander, Sir Thomas Adams, his officers, 
 and his midshipmen, are cherished guests, and have the freedom 
 of both establishments. 
 
 Occasionally he and Mrs. Washington would pay a visit to 
 Annapolis, at that time the seat of government of Maryland, and 
 partake of the gayeties which prevailed during the session of the 
 legislature. The society of these seats of provincial governments 
 was always polite and fashionable, and more exclusive than in these 
 repubhcan days, being, in a manner, the outposts of the English 
 aristocracy, where all places of dignity or profit were secured for 
 younger sons and poor, but proud relatives. During the session 
 of the Legislature, dinners and balls abounded, and there were 
 occasional attempts at theatricals. The latter was an amusement 
 for which Washington always had a relish, though he never had an 
 opportunity of gratifying it effectually. Neither was he disinclined 
 to mingle in the dance, and we remember to have heard venerable 
 ladies, who had been belles in his day, pride themselves on having 
 had him for a partner, though, they added, he was apt to be a cer- 
 emonious and grave one. 
 
 In this round of rural occupation, rural amusements, and social 
 intercourse, Washington passed several tranquil years, the halycon 
 season of his life. His already established reputation drew many 
 visitors to Mount Vernon ; some of his early companions in arms 
 were his occasional guests, and his friendships and connections 
 linked him with some of the most prominent and worthy people of 
 the country, who were sure to be received with cordial, but simple 
 and unpretending hospitality. His marriage was unblessed with 
 children ; but those of Mrs. Washington experienced from him 
 parental care and affection, and the formation of their minds and 
 manners was one of the dearest objects of his attention. His 
 domestic concerns and social enjoyments, however, were not per- 
 mitted to interfere with his public duties. He was active by nature, 
 and eminently a man of business by habit. As judge of the county 
 court, and member of the House of Burgesses, he had numerous 
 calls upon his time and thoughts, and was often drawn from home ; 
 for whatever trust he undertook, he was sure to fulfil with scrupu- 
 lous exactness. 
 
1759-63.] DISMAL SWAMP. 125 
 
 About this time we find him engaged, with other men of enter- 
 prise, in a project to drain the great Dismal Swamp, and render it 
 capable of cultivation. This vast morass was about thirty miles 
 long, and ten miles wide, and its interior but little known. With 
 his usual zeal and hardihood he explored it on horseback and on 
 foot. In many parts it was covered with dark and gloomy woods 
 of cedar, cypress, and hemlock, or deciduous trees, the branches 
 of which were hung with long drooping moss. Other parts were 
 almost inaccessible, from the density of brakes and thickets, entan- 
 gled with vines, briers, and creeping plants, and intersected by 
 creeks and standing pools. Occasionally the soil, composed of dead 
 vegetable fiber, was over his horse's fetlocks, and sometimes he had 
 to dismount and make his way on foot over a quaking bog that 
 shook beneath his tread. 
 
 In the center of the morass he came to a great piece of water, 
 six miles long, and three broad, called Drummond's Pond, but 
 more poetically celebrated as the Lake of the Dismal Swamp. It 
 was more elevated than any other part of the swamp, and capable 
 of feeding canals, by which the whole might be traversed. Having 
 made the circuit of it, and noted all its characteristics, he encamped 
 for the night upon the firm land which bordered it, and finished 
 his explorations on the following day. In the ensuing session of the 
 Virginia Legislature, the association in behalf of which he had acted, 
 was chartered under the name of the Dismal Swamp Company ; 
 and to his observations and forecast may be traced the subsequent 
 improvement and prosperity of that once desolate region. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 RISE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY SPIRIT. 
 
 Tidings of peace gladdened the colonies in the spring of 1763. 
 The definitive treaty between England and France had been signed 
 at Fontainbleau. Now, it was trusted, there would be an end to 
 those horrid ravages that had desolated the interior of the country. 
 "The desert and the silent place would rejoice, and the wilderness 
 would blossom like the rose." 
 
 The month of May proved the fallacy of such hopes. In that 
 month the famous insurrection of the Indian tribes broke out, which, 
 from the name of the chief who was its prime mover and master 
 spirit, is commonly called Pontiac's war. The Delawares and 
 Shawnees, and other of those emigrant tribes of the Ohio, among 
 whom Washington had mingled, were foremost in this conspiracy. 
 Some of the chiefs who had been his allies, had now taken up the 
 hatchet against the Enghsh. The plot Avas deep laid, and con- 
 ducted with Indian craft and secrecy. At a concerted time an 
 attack was made upon all the posts from Detroit to Fort Pitt (late 
 
126 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Fort Duquesne). Several of the small stockaded forts, the places 
 of refuge of woodland neighborhood, were surprised and sacked with 
 remorseless butchery. The frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, 
 and Virginia, were laid waste ; traders in the wilderness were plun- 
 dered and slain ; hamlets and farmhouses were wrapped in flames, 
 and their inhabitants massacred. Shingis, with his Delavyare war- 
 riors, blockaded Fort Pitt, which, for some time was in imminent 
 danger. Detroit, also came near falling into the hands of the sav- 
 ages. It needed all the influence of Sir William Johnson, that 
 potentate in savage hfe, to keep the Six Nations from joining this 
 formidable conspiracy ; had they done so, the triumph of the toma- 
 hawk and scalping knife would have been complete ; as it was, a 
 considerable time elapsed before the frontier was restored to toler- 
 able tranquillity. 
 
 Fortunately, Washington's retirement from the aiTny prevented his 
 being entangled in this savage war, which raged throughout the 
 regions he had repeatedly visited, or rather his active spirit had 
 been diverted into a more peaceful channel, for he was at this time 
 occupied in the enterprise just noticed, for draining the great Dis- 
 mal Swamp, 
 
 Public events were now taking a tendency which, without any 
 pohtical aspiration or forethought of his own, was destined 
 gradually to bear him away from his quiet home and individual 
 pursuits, and launch him upon a grander and wider sphere of 
 action than any in which he had hitherto been engaged. 
 
 The predictions of the Count de Vergennes was in the process 
 of fulfillment. The recent war of Great Britain for dominion in 
 America, though crowned with success, had engendered a progeny 
 of discontents in her colonies. Washington was among the first 
 to perceive its bitter fruits. British merchants had complained 
 loudly of losses sustained by the depreciation of the colonial 
 paper, issued during the late war, in times of emergency, and had 
 addressed a memorial on the subject to the Board of Trade. 
 Scarce was peace concluded, when an order from the board 
 declared that no paper, issued by colonial Assemblies, should 
 thenceforward be a legal tender in the payment of debts. Wash- 
 ington deprecated this " stir of the merchants ; " as peculiarly ill- 
 timed ; and expressed an apprehension that the orders in question 
 " would set the whole country in flames." 
 
 Whatever might be the natural affection of the colonies for the 
 mother country — and there are abundant evidences to provethat 
 it was deep-rooted and strong — it had never been properly recipro- 
 cated. They yearned to be considered as children ; they were 
 treated by her as changelings. Burke testifies that her policy toward 
 them from the beginning had been purely commercial, and her 
 commercial policy wholly restricdve. "It was the system of a 
 monopoly." 
 
 Her navigation laws had shut their ports against foreign vessels ; 
 obliged them to export their productions only to countries belong- 
 ing to the British crown ; to import European goods solely from 
 England, and in EngUsh ships ; and had subjected the trade 
 
1763.] REVENUE OF TAXATION. 127 
 
 between the colonies to duties. All manufactures, too, in the 
 colonies that might interfere with those of the mother country had 
 been either totally prohibited, or subjected to intolerable restraints. 
 
 The acts of Parliament, imposing these prohibitions and restric- 
 tions, had at various times produced sore discontent and opposi- 
 tion on the part of the colonies, especially among those of New 
 England. The interests of these last were chiefly commercial, 
 and among them the republican spirit predominated. They had 
 sprung into existence during that part of the reign of James I. 
 when disputes ran high about kingly prerogative and popular 
 privilege. 
 
 The Pilgrims, as they styled themselves, who founded Plymouth 
 Colony in 1620, had been incensed while in England by what they 
 stigmatized as the oppressions of the monarchy, and the established 
 church. They had sought the wilds of America for the indul- 
 gence of freedom of opinion, and had brought with them the 
 spirit of independence and self-government. Those who followed 
 them in the reign of Charles I. were imbued with the same spirit, 
 and gave a lasting character to the people of New England. 
 
 Other colonies, having been formed under other circumstances, 
 might be inclined toward a monarchical government and disposed 
 to acquiesce in its exaction ; but the republican spirit was ever 
 alive in New England, watching over " natural and chartered 
 rights," and prompt to defend them against any infringements. 
 Its example and instigation had gradually an effect on the other 
 colonies, a general impatience was evinced from time to time of 
 parUamentary interference in colonial affairs, and a disposition in 
 the various provincial Legislatures to think and act for themselves 
 in matters of civil and religious, as well as commercial polity. 
 
 There was nothing, however, to which the jealous sensiliilities 
 of the colonies were more alive than to any attempt of the mother 
 country to draw a revenue from them by taxation. From the 
 earliest period of their existence, they had maintained the prin- 
 ciple that they could only be taxed by a Legislature in which they 
 were represented. Sir Robert Walpole, when at the head of the 
 British government, was aware of their jealous sensibility on this 
 point, and cautious of provoking it. When American taxation 
 was suggested, "it must be a bolder man than himself," he replied, 
 " and one less friendly to commerce, who should venture on such 
 an expedient. For his part, he would encourage the trade of the 
 colonies to the utmost ; one half of the profits would be sure 
 to come into the royal exchequer through the increased demand 
 for British manufactures. " This,'' said he, sagaciously, "is tax- 
 ins^ them more agreeably to their own constitution atid laws.'* 
 
 Subsequently ministers adopted a widely different policy. Dur- 
 ing the progress of the French war, various projects were dis- 
 cussed in England with regard to the colonies, which were to be 
 carried into effect on the return of peace. The open avowal of 
 some of these plans, and vague rumors of others, more than ever 
 irritated the jealous feelings of the colonists, and put the dragon 
 spirit of New England on the alert. 
 
128 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 In 1760, there was an attempt in Boston to collect duties on for- 
 eign sugar and molasses imported into the colonies. Writs of 
 assistance were applied for by the custom-house officers, author- 
 izing them to break open ships, stores, and private dwellings, in 
 quest of articles that had paid no duty ; and to call the assistance 
 of others in the discharge of their odious task. The merchants 
 opposed the execution of the writ on constitutional grounds. The 
 question was argued in court, where James Otis spoke so eloquently 
 in vindication of American rights, that all his hearers went away 
 ready to take arms against writs of assistance. " Then and there," 
 says John Adams, who was present, "was the first scene of oppo- 
 sition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and there 
 American Independence was born." 
 
 " Men-of-war," says Burke, "were for the first time armed with 
 the regular commissions of custom-house officers, invested the 
 coasts, and gave the collection of revenue the air of hostile con- 
 tribution, -x- * * -J*- They fell so indiscriminately on all sorts 
 of contraband, or supposed contraband, that some of the most 
 valuable branches of trade were driven violently from our ports, 
 which caused an universal consternation throughout the colonies." 
 
 As a measure of retaliation, the colonists resolved not to pur- 
 chase British fabrics, but to clothe themselves as much as possible 
 in home manufactures. The demand for British goods in Boston 
 alone was diminished upward of .£10,000 sterling in the course of 
 a year. 
 
 In 1764, George Grenville, now at the head of government, ven- 
 tured upon the policy from which Walpole had so wisely abstained. 
 Early in March the eventful question was debated, "whether they 
 had a right to tax America." It was decided in the affirmative. 
 Next followed a resolution, declaring it properto charge certain stamp 
 duties in the colomes and plantations, but no immediate step was 
 taken to carry it into effect. Mr. Grenville, however, gave notice 
 to the American agents in London, that he should introduce such 
 a measure on the ensuing session of Parliament. In the mean 
 time Parhament perpetuated certain duties on sugar and molasses — 
 heretofore subjects of complaint and opposition — now reduced and 
 modified so as to discourage smuggling, and thereby to render 
 them more productive. Duties, also, were imposed on other 
 articles of foreign produce or manufacture imported into the 
 colonies. To reconcile the latter to these impositions, it was stated 
 that the revenue thus raised was to be appropriated to their pro- 
 tection and security ; in other words, to the support of a standing 
 army, intended to be quartered upon them. 
 
 The New Englanders were the first to take the field against the 
 project of taxation. They denounced it as a violation of their 
 rights as freemen ; of their chartered rights, by which they were 
 to tax themselves for their support and defense ; of their rights as 
 British subjects, who ought not to be taxed but by themselves or 
 their representatives. . They sent petitions and remonstrances 
 on the subject to the king, the lords and the commons, in 
 which they were seconded by New York and Virginia. Franklin 
 
1765.] RESOL UTIONS OF PA TRICK HENR V. 1 29 
 
 appeared in London at the head of agents from Pennsylvania, 
 Connecticut and South Carolina, to deprecate, in person, measures 
 so fraught with mischief. In March, 1765, the act was passed, 
 according to which all instruments in writing were to be executed 
 on stamped paper, to be purchased from the agents of the British 
 government. What was more : all offences against the act could 
 be tried in any royal, marine or admiralty court throughout the 
 colonies, however distant from the place where the offence had 
 been committed ; thus interfering with that most inestimable right, 
 a trial by jury. 
 
 It was an ominous sign that the first burst of opposition to this 
 act should take place in Virginia. That colony had hitherto been 
 slow to accord with the republican spirit of New England. 
 P^ounded at an earlier period of the reign of James I., before kingly 
 prerogative and ecclesiastical supremacy had been made matters 
 of doubt and fierce dispute, it had grown up in loyal attachment 
 to king, church, and constitution ; was aristocratical in its tastes 
 and habits, and had been remarked above all other colonies for its 
 sympathies with the mother country. Washington occupied his 
 seat in the House of Burgesses, when, on the 29th of May, the 
 stamp act became a subject of discussion. Among the Burgesses 
 sat Patrick Henry, a young lawyer who had recently distinguished 
 himself by pleading against the exercise of the royal prerogative 
 in church matters, and who was now for the first time a member of 
 the House. Rising in his place, he introduced his celebrated 
 resolutions, declaring that the General Assembly of Virginia had 
 the exclusive right and power to lay taxes and impositions upon the 
 inhabitants, and that whoever maintained the contrary should be 
 deemed an enemy to the colony. The speaker, Mr. Robinson, 
 objected to the resolutions, as inflammatory, Henry vindicated 
 them, as justified by the nature of the case ; went into an able and 
 constitutional discussion of colonial rights, and an eloquent 
 exposition of the manner in which they had been assailed ; wound 
 up by one of those daring flights of declamation for which he was 
 remarkable, and startled the House by a warning flash from 
 history : " Caesar had his Brutus ; Charles his Cromwell, and 
 George the Third — ('Treason! treason!' resounded from the 
 neighborhood of the Chair) — may profit by their examples," added 
 Henry. "Sir, if this be treason (bowing to the speaker), make 
 the most of it!" 
 
 The resolutions were modified, to accommodate them to the 
 scruples of the speaker and some of the members, but their spirit 
 was retained. The Lieutenant-Governor (Fauquier), startled by 
 this patriotic outbreak, dissolved the Assembly, ana issued writs 
 for a new election ; but the clarion had sounded. "The resolves 
 of the Assembly of Virginia," says a correspondent of the 
 ministry, "gave the signal for a general outcry over the continent. 
 The movers and supporters of them were applauded as the 
 protectors and assertors of American liberty." 
 
 Washington returned to Mount Vernon full of anxious thoughts 
 inspired by the political events of the day, and the legislative 
 5 
 
I30 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 scene which he witnessed. His recent letters had spoken of the 
 state of peaceful tranquillity in which he was living ; those now 
 written from his rural home show that he fully participated in the 
 popular feeling, and that while he had a presentiment of an 
 arduous struggle, his patriotic mind was revolving means of coping 
 with it. Such is the tenor of a letter written to his wife's uncle, 
 Francis Dandridge, then in London. "The stamp act," said he, 
 " engrosses the conversation of the speculative part of the colo- 
 nists, who look upon this unconstitutional method of taxation as a 
 direful attack upon their liberties, and loudly exclaim against the 
 violation. What may be the result of this, and of some other (I 
 think I may add ill-judged) measures, I will not undertake to 
 determine ; but this I may venture to affirm, that the advantage 
 accruing to the mother country will fall greatly short of the expec- 
 tation of the ministry ; for certain it is, that our whole substance 
 already in a manner flows to Great Britain, and that whatsoever 
 contributes to lessen our importations must be hurtful to her manu- 
 factures. The eyes of our people already begin to be opened; and 
 they will perceive, that many luxuries, for which we lavish our 
 substance in Great Britain, can well be dispensed with. This, 
 consequently, will introduce frugality, and be a necessary incite- 
 ment to industry. ****** As to the stamp act, regarded in a 
 single view, one of the first bad consequences attending it, is, that 
 our courts of judicature must inevitably be shut up ; for it is 
 impossible, or next to impossible, under our present circumstances 
 that the act of Parliament can be complied with, were we ever so 
 willing to enforce its execution. And not to say {which alone 
 Avould be sufficient) that we have not money enough to pay for the 
 stamps, there are many other cogent reasons which prove that it 
 would be ineffectual." 
 
 In the mean time, from his quiet abode at Mount Vernon, he 
 seemed to hear the patriotic voice of Patrick Henry, which had 
 startled the House of Burgesses, echoing throughout the land, and 
 rousing one legislative body after another to follow the example of 
 that of Virginia. At the instigation of the General Court or 
 Assembly of Massachusetts, a Congress was held in New York in 
 October, composed of delegates from Massachusetts, Rhode Island, 
 Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, 
 Maryland, and South Carolina. In this they denounced the acts 
 of Parliament imposing taxes on them without their consent, and 
 extending the jurisdiction of the courts of admiralty, as violations 
 of their rights and liberties as natural born subjects of Great 
 Britain, and prepared an address to the king, and a petition to 
 both Houses of Parliament, praying for redress. Similar petitions 
 were forwarded to England by the colonies not represented in the 
 Congress. 
 
 The very preparations for enforcing the stamp act called forth 
 popular tumults in various places. In Boston the stamp distributor 
 was hanged in effigy ; his windows were broken ; a house intended 
 for a stamp office was pulled down, and the effigy burned in a 
 bonfire made of the fragments. The heutenant-governor, chief 
 
1765. J POPULAR AGITATION. \yi 
 
 justice, and sheriff, attempting to allay the tumult, were pelted. 
 The stamp officer thought himself happy to be hanged merely in 
 effigy, and next day publicly renounced the perilous office. 
 
 Various were the proceedings in other places, all manifesting 
 pubUc scorn and defiance of the act. In Virginia, Mr. George 
 Mercer had been appointed distributor of stamps, but on his arrival 
 at WilUamsburg publicly dechned officiating. It was a fresh triumph 
 to the popular cause. The bells were rung for joy ; the town was 
 illuminated, and Mercer was hailed with acclamations of the 
 people. 
 
 The 1st of November, the day when the act was to go into opera- 
 tion, was ushered in with potentous solemnities. There was great 
 tolling of bells and burning of effigies in the New England colonies. 
 At Boston the ships displayed their colors but half-mast high. 
 Many shops were shut ; funeral knells resounded from the steeples, 
 and there was a grand auto-dafe, in which the promoters of the act 
 were paraded, and suffered martyrdom in effigy. 
 
 At New York the printed act was carried about the streets on a 
 pole, surmounted by a death's head, with a scroll bearing the in- 
 scription, "The folly of England and ruin of America." Colden, 
 the lieutenant-governor, who acquired considerable odium by recom- 
 mending to government the taxation of the colonies, the institution 
 of hereditary Assemblies, and other Tory measures, seeing that a 
 popular storm was rising, retired into the fort, taking with him the 
 stamp papers, and garrisoned it with marines from a ship of war. 
 The mob broke into his stable ; drew out his chariot ; put his effigy 
 into it ; paraded it through the streets to the common (now the 
 Park), where they hung it on a gallows. In the evening it was 
 taken down, put again into the chariot, with the devil for a com- 
 panion, and escorted back by torchlight to the Bowling Green ; 
 where the whole pageant, chariot and all, was burned under the 
 very guns of the fort. 
 
 All transactions which required stamps to give them validity were 
 suspended, or were executed by private compact. The courts of 
 justice were closed, until at length some conducted their business 
 without stamps. Union was becoming the watch- word. Tlie mer- 
 chants of New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and such other colonies 
 as had ventured publicly to oppose the stamp act, agreed to im- 
 port no more British manufacturers after the ist of January unless 
 it should be repealed. So passed away the year 176$. 
 
 As yet Washington took no prominent part in the public agita- 
 tion. Indeed he was never disposed to put himself forward on 
 popular occasions, his innate modesty forbade it ; it was others who 
 knew his worth that called him forth ; but when once he engaged 
 in any public measure, he devoted himself to it with conscientious- 
 ness and persevering zeal. At present he remained aquiet but vig- 
 ilant observer of events from his eagle nest at Mount Vernon. He 
 had some few intimates in his neighborhood who accorded with 
 him in sentiment. One of the ablest and most efficient of these was 
 Mr. George Mason, with whom he had occasional conversations on 
 the state of affairs. His friends, the Fairfaxes, though liberal in 
 
132 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 feelings and opinions, were too strong in their devotion to the 
 crown not to regard with an uneasy eye the tendency of the popular 
 bias. 
 
 The dismissal of Mr. Grenville from the cabinet gave a tempo- 
 rary change to public affairs. Perhaps nothing had a greater ef- 
 fect in favor of the colonies than an examination of Dr. Franklin 
 before the House of Commons, on the subject of the stamp act. 
 "What," he was asked, *'was the temper of America toward 
 Great Britain, before the year 1763?" "The best in the world. 
 They submitted willingly to the government of the crown, and paid, 
 in all their courts, obedience to the acts of Parliament. Numerous 
 as the people are in the several old provinces, they cost you noth- 
 ing in forts, citadels, garrisons, or armies, to keep them in subjec- 
 tion. They were governed by this country at the expense only of a 
 little pen, ink, and paper. They were led by a thread. They had 
 not only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain, for its laws, 
 its customs, and manners, and even a fondness for its fashions, 
 that greatly increased its commerce. Natives of Great Britain were 
 always treated with particular regard ; to be an Old-England man 
 was, of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank 
 among us." " And what is their temper now ?" " Oh ! very much 
 altered." ** If the act is not repealed, what do you think will be 
 the consequences?" "A total loss of the respect and affection the 
 people of America bear to this country, and of all the commerce 
 that depends on that respect and affection." **Do you think the 
 people of America would submit to pay the stamp duty if it was 
 moderated?" "No, never, unless compelled by force of arms." 
 The act was repealed on the 18th of March, 1766, to the great joy 
 of the sincere friends of both countiies, and to no one more than 
 to Washington. In one of his letters he observes : " Had the Par- 
 liament of Great Britain resolved upon enforcing it, the conse- 
 quences, I conceive, would have been more direful than is gener- 
 ally apprehended, both to the mother country and her colonies." 
 Still there was a fatal clause in the repeal, which declared that the 
 king, with the consent of Parliament, had power and authority to 
 make laws and statutes of sufficient force and validity to " bind the 
 colonies, and people of America, in all cases whatsoever." As the 
 people of America were contending for principles, not mere pecuni- 
 ary interests, this reserved power of the crown and Parliament left 
 the dispute still open, and chilled the feeling of gratitude which the 
 repeal might otherwise have inspired. Further aliment for public 
 discontent was furnished by other acts of Parliament. One im- 
 posed duties on glass, pasteboard, white and red lead, painters* 
 colors, and tea; the duties to be collected on the arrival of the 
 articles in the colonies ; another empowered naval officers to en- 
 force the acts of trade and navigation. Another wounded to the 
 quick the pride and sensibilities of New York. The mutiny act had 
 recently been extended to America, with an additional clause, re- 
 quiring the provincial Assemblies to provide the troops sent out 
 with quarters, and to furnish them with fire, beds, candles, and 
 other necessaries, at the expenses of the colonies. The Governor 
 
1765.] REPEAL OF THE STAMP ACT. 13J 
 
 and Assembly of New York refused to comply with this requisition 
 *as to stationary forces, insisting that it applied only to troops on a 
 march. An act of Parliament now suspended the powers of the 
 governor and Assembly until they should comply. Chatham at- 
 tributed this opposition of the colonists to the mutiny act to " their 
 jealousy of being somehow or other taxed internally by the Parlia- 
 ment; the act," said he, "asserting the right of Parhament, has 
 certainly spread a most unfortunate jealousy and diffidence of 
 government here throughout America, and makes them jealous of 
 the least distinction between this country and that, lest the same 
 principle may be extended to taxing them." 
 
 Boston continued to be the focus of what the ministerialists 
 termed sedition. The General Court of Massachusetts, not content 
 with petitioning the king for relief against the recent measures of 
 Parhament, especially those imposing taxes as a means of revenue, 
 drew up a circular, calling on the other colonial Legislatures to join 
 with them in suitable efforts to obtain redress. Nothing, however, 
 produced a more powerful effect upon the public sensibilities 
 throughout the country, than certain military demonstrations at 
 Boston. In consequence of repeated collisions between the peo- 
 ple of that place and the commissioners of customs, two regiments 
 were held in readiness at Halifax to embark for Boston in the ships 
 of Commodore Hood whenever Governor Bernard, or the general 
 should give the word. " Had the force been landed in Boston six 
 months ago," writes the commodore, "I am perfectly persuaded 
 no address or remonstrances would have been sent from the other 
 colonies, and that all would have been tolerably quiet and orderly 
 at this time throughout America." 
 
 Tidings reached Boston that these troops were embarked and 
 that they were coming down to overawe the people. What was to be 
 done ? The General Court had been dissolved, and the governor 
 refused to convene it without the royal command. A convention, 
 therefore, from various towns met at Boston, on the 22d of Sep- 
 tember, to devise measures for the public safety ; but disclaiming 
 all pretensions to legislative powers. While the convention was 
 yet in session (September 28th), the two regiments arrived, with 
 seven armed vessels. It was resolved in a town meeting that the 
 king had no right to send troops thither without the consent of the 
 Assembly ; that Great Britain had broken the original compact, 
 and that, therefore, the king's officers had no longer any business 
 there. The "selectmen" accordingly refused to find quarters 
 for the soldiers in the town ; the council refused to find barracks 
 for them, lest it should be construed into a compliance with the 
 disputed clause of the mutiny act. Some of the troops, therefore, 
 which had tents, were encamped on the common ; others, by the 
 governor's orders, were quartered in the state-house, and others in 
 Faneuil Hall, to the great indignation of the public, who were 
 greviously scandalized at seeing field-pieces planted in front of the 
 State-house ; sentinels stationed at the doors, challenging every one 
 who passed ; and, above all, at having the sacred quiet of the Sab- 
 bath disturbed by drum and fife, and other military music. 
 
134 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Throughout these public agitations, Washington endeavored to 
 preserve his equanimity. Removed from the heated throngs of 
 cities, his diary denotes a cheerful and healthful life at Mount 
 Vernon, devoted to those rural occupations in which he delighted, 
 and varied occasionally by his favorite field sports. Still he was 
 too true a patriot not to sympathize in the struggle for colonial 
 rights which now agitated the whole country, and we find him 
 gradually carried more and more into the current of political affairs. 
 A letter written on the 15th of April, 1769, to his friend, George 
 Mason, shows the important stand he was disposed to take. "At 
 a time," writes he, "when our lordly masters in Great Britain wilj 
 be satisfied with nothing less than the deprivation of American 
 freedom, it seems highly necessary that something should be done 
 to avert the stroke, and maintain the liberty which we have de- 
 rived from our ancestors. But the manner of doing it, to answer 
 the purpose effectually, is the point in question. That no man 
 should scruple, or hesitate a moment in defence of so valuable a 
 blessing, is clearly my opinion; yet arms should be the last resource — 
 the dernier ressort. We have already, it is said, proved the inef- 
 ficacy of addresses to the throne, and remonstrances to Parlia- 
 ment. How far their attention to our rights and interests is to be 
 awakened, or alarmed, by starving their trade and manufactures, 
 remains to be tried. The northern colonies, it appears, are en- 
 deavoring to adopt this scheme. In my opinion, it is a good one, 
 and must be attended with salutary effects, provided it can be 
 carried pretty generally into execution. * * -J*- That there will 
 be a difficulty attending it everywhere from clashing interests, and 
 selfish, designing men, ever attentive to their own gain, and watch- 
 ful of every turn that can assist their lucrative views, cannot be 
 denied, and in the tobacco colonies, where the trade is so diffused 
 and in a manner wholly conducted by factors for their principals 
 at home, these difficulties are certainly enhanced, but I think not 
 insurmountably increased, if the gentlemen in their several counties 
 will be at some pains to explain matters to the people, and stimulate 
 them to cordial agreements to purchase none but certain enumer- 
 ated articles out of any of the stores, after a definite period, and 
 neither import, nor purchase any themselves. -Jt -Jf- * I can see 
 but one class of people, the merchants excepted, who will not 
 or ought not, to wish well to the scheme — namely, they who live 
 genteelly and hospitably on clear estates. Such as these, were they 
 not to consider the valuable object in view, and the good of others, 
 might think it hard to be curtailed in their living and enjoy- 
 ments." 
 
 This was precisely the class to which Washington belonged ; but 
 he was ready and willing to make the sacrifices required. " I 
 think the scheme a good one," added he, " and that it ought to be 
 tried here, with such alterations as our circumstances render abso- 
 lutely necessary." 
 
 A single word in the passage cited from Washington's letter, 
 evinces the chord which still vibrated in the American bosom : he 
 incidentally speaks of England as home. It was the familiar term 
 
I7/0.] HOOD AT BOSTON. 135 
 
 with which she was usually indicated by those of English descent; 
 and the writer of these pages remembers when the endearing phrase 
 still lingered on Anglo-American lips even after the Revolution. 
 How easy would it have been before that era for the mother coun- 
 try to have rallied back the affections of her colonial children, by 
 a proper attention to their complaints ! They asked for nothing but 
 what they were entitled to, and what she had taught them to prize 
 as their dearest inheritance. The spirit of liberty which they mani- 
 fested had been derived from her own precept and example. 
 
 As Massachusetts had no General Assembly at this time, having 
 been dissolved by government, the Legislature of Virginia gen- 
 erously took up the cause. An address to the king was resolved 
 on, stating, that all trials for treason, or misprison of treason, or for 
 any crime whatever committed by any person residing in a colony, 
 ought to be in and before his majesty's courts within said colony ; 
 and beseeching the king to avert from his loyal subjects those 
 dangers and miseries which would ensue from seizing and carrying 
 beyond sea any person residing in America suspected of any crime 
 whatever, thereby depriving them of the inestimable privilege of 
 being tried by a jury from the vicinage, as well as the liberty of 
 producing witnesses on such trial. 
 
 Disdaining any further application to Parliament, the House or- 
 dered the speaker to transmit this address to the colonies' agent in 
 England, with directions to cause it to be presented to the king, and 
 afterward to be printed and published in the English papers. 
 
 "The worst is past, and the spirit of sedition broken," writes 
 Hood to Grenville, early in the spring of 1769. When the commo- 
 dore wrote this, his ships were in the harbor, and troops occupied 
 the town, and he flattered himself that at length turbulent Boston 
 was quelled. But it only awaited its time to be seditious according 
 to rule ; there was always an irresistible " method in its madness." 
 
 In the month of May, the General Court, hitherto prorogued, 
 met according to charter. A committee immediately waited on 
 the governor, stating that it was impossible to do business with 
 dignity and freedom while the town was invested by sea and land, 
 and a military guard was stationed at the state-house, with cannon 
 pointed at the door ; and they requested the governor, as his 
 majesty's representative, to have such forces removed out of the 
 port and gates of the city during the session of the Assembly. 
 
 The governor repUed that he had no authority over either the 
 ships or troops. The court persisted in refusing to transact busi- 
 ness while so circumstanced, and the governor was obliged to trans- 
 fer the session to Cambridge. There he addressed a message to 
 that body in July, requiring funds for the payment of the troops, 
 and quarters for their accommodation. The Assembly after ample 
 discussion of past grievances, resolved that the establishment of a 
 standing army in the colony in a time of peace was an invasion of 
 natural rights ; that a standing army was not known as a part of 
 the British constitution, and that the sending an armed force to aid 
 the civil authority was unprecedented, and highly dangerous to the 
 people. 
 
136 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 After waiting some days without receiving an answer to his mes- 
 sage, the Governor sent to know whether the Assembly would, or 
 would not, make provision for the troops. In their reply, they fol- 
 lowed the example of the Legislature of New York, in commenting 
 on the mutiny, or billeting act, and ended by declining to furnish 
 funds for the purposes specified, " being incompatible with their own 
 honor and interest, and their duty to their constituents." They 
 were in consequence again prorogued, to meet in Boston on the 
 loth of January. 
 
 Early in 1770, an important change took place in the British 
 cabinet. The Duke of Grafton suddenly resigned, and the reins of 
 government passed into the hands of Lord North. He was a man 
 of hmited capacity, but a favorite of the king, and subservient to 
 his narrow colonial policy. His administration, so eventful to 
 America, commenced with an error. In the month of March, an 
 act was passed, revoking all the duties laid in 1767, excepting that 
 on tea. This single tax was continued, as he observed, '-to main- 
 tain the parliamentary right of taxation," — the very right which 
 was the grand object of contest. In this, however, he was in fact 
 yielding, against his better judgment, to the stubborn tenacity of the 
 king. 
 
 On the very day in which this ominous bill was passed in Parlia- 
 ment, a sinister occurrence took place in Boston. Some of the 
 young men of the place insulted the military while under arms ; the 
 latter resented it ; the young men, after a scuffle, were put to flight, 
 and pursued. The alarm bells rang — a mob assembled; the 
 custom-house was threatened ; the troops, in protecting it, were as- 
 sailed with clubs and stones, and obliged to use their fire-arms, be- 
 fore the tumult could be quelled. Four of the populace were killed 
 and several wounded. The troops were now removed from the 
 town, which remained in the highest state of exasperation ; and 
 this untoward occurrence received the opprobrious, and somewhat 
 extravagant name of " the Boston massacre." 
 
 The colonists, as a matter of convenience, resumed the consump- 
 tion of those articles on which the duties had been repealed ; but 
 continued, on principle, the rigorous disuse of tea, excepting such 
 as had been smuggled in. New England was particularly earnest 
 in the matter; many of the inhabitants, in the spirit of their Puritan 
 progenitors, made a covenant to drink no more of the forbidden 
 beverage, until the duty on tea should be repealed. 
 
 In the midst of these popular turmoils, Washington was induced by 
 public as well as private considerations, to make another expedition 
 to the Ohio. He was one of the Virginia Board of Commissioners, 
 appointed, at the close of the late war, to settle the military ac- 
 counts of the colony. Among the claims which came before the 
 board, were those of the officers and soldiers who had engaged to 
 serve until peace, under the proclamation of Governor Dinwiddle, 
 holding forth a bounty of two hundred thousand acres of land to be 
 apportioned among them according to rank. Those claims were yet 
 unsatisfied, for governments, hke individuals, are slow to pay off in 
 peaceful times the debts incurred while in the fighting mood. 
 
I770.J UNEASY STATE OF THE FRONTIER. 137 
 
 Washington became the champion of those claims, and an oppor- 
 tunity now presented itself for their liquidation. The Six Nations, 
 by a treaty in 1768, had ceded to the British crown, in considera- 
 tion of a sum of money, all the lands possessed by them south of 
 the Ohio. Land offices would soon be opened for the sale of them. 
 Squatters and speculators were already preparing to swarm in, set 
 up their marks on the choicest spots, and establish what were called 
 pre-emption rights. Washington determined at once to visit the 
 lands thus ceded ; affix his mark on such tracts as he should select, 
 and apply for a grant from government in behalf of the " soldier's 
 claim. 
 
 The expedition would be attended with some degree of danger. 
 The frontier was yet in an uneasy state. It is true some time had 
 elapsed since the war of Pontiac, but some of the Indian tribes 
 were almost ready to resume the hatchet. The Delawares, Shaw- 
 nees, and Mingoes, complained that the Six Nations had not given 
 them their full share of the consideration money of the 
 late sale, and they talked of exacting the deficiency from 
 the white men who came to settle in what had been 
 their hunting-grounds. Traders, squatters, and other adven- 
 turers into the wilderness, were occasionally murdered, and further 
 troubles were apprehended. Washington had for a companion in 
 this expedition his friend and neighbor, Ur. Craik, and it was with 
 strong community of feeling they looked forward peaceably to 
 revisit the scenes of their military experience. They sat out on the 
 5th of October with three negro attendants, two belonging to Wash- 
 ington and one to the doctor. The whole party was mounted, 
 and there was a led horse for the baggage. 
 
 After twelve days' traveling they arrived at Fort Pitt (late Fort 
 Duquesne). It was garrisoned by two companies of royal Irish, 
 commanded by a Captain Edmonson. A hamlet of about twenty 
 log-houses, inhabited by Indian traders, had sprung up within 
 three hundred yards of the fort, and was called " the town." It 
 was the embryo city of Pittsburg, now so populous. At one of the 
 houses, a tolerable frontier inn, they took up their quarters ; but 
 during their brief sojourn, they were entertained with great hos- 
 pitaHty at the fort. Here at dinner Washington met his old 
 acquaintance, George Croghan, who had figured in so many capac- 
 ities and experienced so many vicissitudes on the frontier. He 
 was now Colonel Croghan, deputy-agent to Sir William Johnson, 
 and had his residence — or seat, as Washington terms it — on the 
 banks of the Allegheny River, about four miles from the fort. 
 
 Croghan had experienced troubles and dangers during the Pon- 
 tiac war, both from white men and savage. At one time while he 
 was convoying presents from Sir William to the Delawares and 
 Shawnees, his caravan was set upon and plundered by a band of 
 backwoodsmen of Pennsylvania — men resembling Indians in garb 
 and habits, and fully as lawless. At another time, when encamped 
 at the mouth of the Wabash with some of his Indian allies, a band 
 of Kickapoos, supposing the latter to be Cherokees, their deadly 
 enemies, rushed forth from the woods with horrid veils, and shot 
 
138 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 down several of his companions, and wounded himself. It must 
 be added, that no white men could have made more ample apolo- 
 gies than did the Kickapoos, when they discovered that they had 
 fired upon friends. 
 
 On the day following the repast at the fort, Washington visited 
 Croghan at his abode on the Allegheny River, where he found several 
 of the chiefs of the Six Nations assembled. 
 
 One of them, the White Mingo by name, made him a speech, 
 accompanied, as usual, by a belt of wampum. Some of his com- 
 panions, he said, remembered to have seen him in 1753, when he 
 came on his embassy to the French commander ; most of them 
 had heard of him. They had now come to welcome him to their 
 country. They wished the people of Virginia to consider them as 
 friends and brothers, linked together in one chain, and requested 
 him to inform the governor of their desire to Hve in peace and 
 harmony with the white men. As to certain unhappy differences 
 which had taken place between them on the frontiers, they were 
 all made up, and, they hoped, forgotten. 
 
 Washington accepted the "speech-belt," and made a suitable 
 reply, assuring the chiefs that nothing was more desired by the 
 people of Virginia than to live with them on terms of the strictest 
 friendship. 
 
 At Pittsburg the travelers left their horses, and embarked in a 
 large canoe, to make a voyage down the Ohio as far as the Great 
 Kanawha. Colonel Croghan engaged two Indians for their ser- 
 vice, and an interpreter named John Nicholson. The colonel and 
 some of the officers of the garrison accompanied them as far as 
 Logstown, the scene of Washington's early diplomacy, andhis first 
 interview with the half-king. Here they breakfasted together ; 
 after which they separated, the colonel and his companions cheer- 
 ing the voyagers from the shore, as the canoe was borne off by the 
 current of the beautiful Ohio. 
 
 It was now the hunting season, when the Indian leave their 
 towns, set off with their famihes, and lead a roving life in cabins and 
 hunting-camps along the river ; shifting from place to place, as game 
 abounds or decreases, and often extending their migrations two or 
 three hundred miles down the stream. The women were as dex- 
 terous as the men in the management of the canoe, but were gen- 
 erally engaged in the domestic labors of the lodge while their hus- 
 bands were abroad hunting. Washington's propensities as a 
 sportsman had here full play. Deer were continually to be seen 
 coming down to the water's edge to drink, or browsing along the 
 shore ; there were innumerable flocks of wild turkeys, and stream- 
 ing flights of ducks and geese ; so that as the voyagers floated 
 along, they were enabled to load their canoe with game. At night 
 they encamped on the river bank, lit their fire and made a sumpt- 
 uous hunter's repast. Washington always relished this wild-wood 
 life ; and the present had that spice of danger in it, which has 
 a peculiar charm for adventurous minds. The great object of his 
 expedidon, however, is evinced in his constant notes on the fea- 
 tures and character of the country ; the quality of the soil as indi- 
 
I770-J SCENES ALONG THE RIVER. T39 
 
 cated by the nature of the trees, and the level tracts fitted for set- 
 tlements. 
 
 About seventy-five miles below Pittsburg the voyagers landed at 
 a Mingo town, which they found in a stir of warlike preparation — 
 sixty of the warriors being about to set off on a foray into the 
 Cherokee country against the Catawbas. 
 
 Two days more of voyaging brought them to an Indian hunting 
 camp, near the mouth of the Muskingum. Here it was necessary 
 to land and make a ceremonious visit, for the chief of the hunting 
 party was Kiashuta, a Seneca sachem, the head of the river tribes. 
 He was noted to have been among the first to raise the hatchet in 
 Pontiac's conspiracy, and almost equally vindictive with that 
 potent warrior. As Washington approached the chieftain, he 
 recognized him for one of the Indians who had accompanied him 
 on his mission to the French in 1753. Kiashuta retained a perfect 
 recoJlection of the youthful ambassador, though seventeen years 
 had matured him into thoughtful manhood. With hunter's hospi- 
 tality he gave him a quarter of a fine buffalo just slain, but insisted 
 that they should encamp together for the night ; and in order not 
 to retard him, moved with his own party to a good camping place 
 some distance down the river. Here they had long talks and 
 council-fires over night and in the morning with all the "tedious 
 ceremony," says Washington, "which the Indians observe in their 
 counselings and speeches." Kiashuta had heard of what had 
 passed between Washington and the "White Mingo," and other 
 sachems, at Colonel Croghan's, and was eager to express his own 
 desire for peace and friendship with Virginia, and fair dealings with 
 her traders ; all which Washington promised to report faithfully to 
 the governor, It was not until a late hour in the morning that he 
 was enabled to bring these conferences to a close, and pursue his 
 voyage. 
 
 At the mouth of the Great Kanawha the voyagers encamped a 
 day or two to examine the lands in the neigborhood, and Washing- 
 ton set up his mark upon such as he intended to claim on behalf 
 of the soldiers' grant. It was a fine sporting country, having small 
 lakes or grassy ponds abounding with water-fowl, such as ducks, 
 geese, and swans. Flocks of turkeys, as is usual; and, for larger 
 game, deer and buffalo ; so that their camp abounded with pro- 
 visions. 
 
 Here Washington was visited by an old sachem, who approached 
 him with great reverence, at the head of several of his tribe, and 
 addressed him through Nicholson, the interpreter. He had 
 heard, he said, of his being in that part of the country, and had 
 come from a great distance to see him. On further discourse, 
 the sachem made known that he was one of the warriors in the 
 service of the French, who lay in ambush on the banks of the 
 Monongahela and wrought such havoc in Braddock's army. He 
 declared that he and his young men had singled out Washington,- 
 as he made himself conspicuous riding about the field of battle, 
 with the general's orders, and had fired at him repeatedly, but 
 without success ; whence they had concluded that he was under 
 
I40 LIFE OF WASHhWGTON. 
 
 the protection of the Great Spirit, had a charmed hfe; and could 
 not be slain in battle. 
 
 At the Great Kanawha Washington's expedition down the Ohio 
 terminated ; having visited all the points he wished to examine. 
 His return to Fort Pitt, and thence homeward, affords no incident 
 worthy of note. The whole expedition, however, was one of that 
 hardy and adventurous kind, mingled with practical purposes, in 
 which he delighted. This winter voyage down the Ohio in a canoe, 
 with the doctor for a companion and two Indians for crew, through 
 regions yet insecure from the capricious hostility of prowling sav- 
 ages, is not one of the least striking of his frontier " experiences." 
 
 We have spoken of Washington's paternal conduct toward the 
 two children of Mrs. Washington. The daughter. Miss Custis, 
 had long been an object of extreme solicitude. She was of a 
 fragile constitution, and for some time past had been in very 
 declining health. Early in the present summer, symptoms 
 indicated a rapid charge for the worse. Washington was absent 
 from home at the time. On his return to Mount Vernon, he found 
 her in the last stage of consumption. Though not a man given to 
 bursts of sensibility, he is said on the present occasion to have 
 evinced the deepest affliction ; kneeling by her bedside, and pour- 
 ing out earnest prayers for her recovery. She expired on the 19th 
 of June, in the seventeenth year of her age. For a long time pre- 
 vious to the death of Miss Custis, her mother, despairing of her 
 recovery, had centered her hopes in her son, John Parke Custis. 
 This rendered Washington's guardianship of him a delicate and 
 difficult task. He was Hvely, susceptible, and implusive ; had an 
 independent fortune in his own right, and an indulgent mother, 
 ever ready to plead in his behalf against wholesome discipline. 
 He had been placed under the care and instruction of an Episcopal 
 clergyman at Annapolis, but was occasionally at home, mounting 
 his horse, and taking a part, while yet a boy, in the fox-hunts at 
 Mount Vernon. His education had consequently been irregular 
 and imperfect, and not such as Washington would have enforced 
 had he possessed over him the absolute authority of a father. 
 Shortly after the return of the latter from his tour to the Ohio, he 
 was concerned to find that there was an idea entertained of send- 
 ing the lad abroad, though but little more than sixteen years of 
 age, to travel under the care of his clerical tutor. Through his 
 judicious interference, the traveling scheme was postponed, and it 
 was resolved to give the young gentleman's mind the benefit of a 
 little preparatory home culture. 
 
 Little more than a year elapsed before the sallying impulses of 
 the youth had taken a new direction. He was in love ; what was 
 more, he was engaged to the object of his passion, and on the high 
 road to matrimony. 
 
 Washington now opposed himself to premature marriage as he 
 had done to premature travel. A correspondence ensued between 
 him and the young lady's father, Benedict Calvert, Esq. The 
 match was a satisfactory one to all parties, but it was agreed, that 
 it was expedient for the youth to pass a year or two previously at 
 
1 773.] EARL V TRA VEL AND EARL VMARRL4GE. 141 
 
 college. Washington accordingly accompanied him to New York, 
 and placed him under the care of the Rev. Dr. Cooper, president 
 of King's (now Columbia) College, to pursue his studies in that 
 institution. All this occurred before the death of his sister. 
 Within a year after that melancholy event, he became impatient 
 for a union with the object of his choice. His mother, now more 
 indulgent than* ever to this, her only child, yielded her consent, 
 and Washington no longer made opposition. 
 
 " It has been against my wishes," writes the latter to President 
 Cooper, "that he should quit college in order that he may soon 
 enter into a new scene of life, which I think he would be much 
 fitter for some years hence than now. But having his own inclina- 
 tion, the desires of his mother, and the acquiescence of almost all 
 his relatives to encounter, I did not care, as he is the last of the 
 family, to push my opposition too far ; I have, therefore, submitted 
 to a kind of necessity." 
 
 The marriage was celebrated on the 3d of February, 1774, 
 before the bridegroom was twenty -one years of age. 
 
 The general covenant throughout the colonies against the use of 
 taxed tea, had operated disastrously against the interests of the 
 East India Company, and produced an immense accumulation of 
 the proscribed article in their warehouses. To remedy this, Lord 
 North brought in a bill (1773), ^y which the company were allowed 
 to export their teas from England to any part whatever, without 
 paying export duty. This, by enabling them to offer their teas at 
 a low price in the colonies would, he supposed, tempt the Americans 
 to purchase large quantities thus relieving the company, and at 
 the same time benefiting the revenue by the impost duty. Con- 
 fiding in the wisdom of this policy, the company disgorged their 
 warehouses, freighted several ships with tea, and sent them to 
 various parts of the colonies. This brought matter to a crisis. 
 One sentiment, one determination, pervaded the whole continent. 
 Taxation was to receive its definitive blow. Whoever submitted to 
 it was an enemy to his country. From New York and Philadelphia 
 the ships were sent back, unladen, to London. In Charleston the 
 tea was unloaded, and stored away in cellars and other places, 
 where it perished. At Boston the action was still more decisive. 
 The ships anchored in the harbor. Some small parcels of tea 
 were brought on shore, but the sale of them was prohibited. The 
 captains of the ships, seeing the desperate state of the case, would 
 have made sail back for England, but they could not obtain the 
 consent of the consignees, a clearance at the custom-house, or a 
 passport from the governor to clear the fort. It was evident, the 
 tea was to be forced upon the people of Boston, and the principle 
 of taxation established. 
 
 To settle the matter completely, and prove that, on a point of 
 principle, they were not to be trifled with, a number of the inhabi- 
 tants, disguised as Indians, boarded the ships in the night (i8th 
 December), broke open all the chests of tea, and emptied the con- 
 tents into the sea. This was no rash and intemperate proceeding 
 of a mob, but the well-considered, though resolute act of sober. 
 
142 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 respectable citizens, mefi of reflection, but determination. The 
 whole was done calmly, and in perfect order ; after which the 
 actors in the scene dispersed without tumult, and returned quietly 
 to their homes. 
 
 The general opposition of the colonies to the principle of taxa- 
 tion had given great annoyance to government, but this individual 
 act concentrated all its wrath upon Boston. A bill was forthwith 
 passed in Parliament (commonly called the Boston port bill), by 
 which all lading and unlading of goods, wares, and merchandise, 
 were to cease in that town and harbor, on and after the 4th oif 
 June, and the officers of the customs to be transferred to Salem. 
 Another law passed soon after, altered the charter of the province, 
 decreeing that all counselors, judges, and magistrates, should be 
 appointed by the crown, and hold office during the royal pleasure. 
 This was followed by a third, intended for the suppression of riots ; 
 and providing that any person indicted for murder, or other capital 
 offence, committed in aiding the magistracy might be sent by the 
 governor to some other colony, or to Great Britain, for trial. Such 
 was the bolt of Parliamentary wrath fulminated against the 
 devoted town of Boston. Before it fell there was a session in 
 May, of the Virginia House of Burgesses. The social position of 
 Lord Dunmore had been strengthened in the province by the 
 arrival of his lady, and a numerous family of sons and daughters. 
 Tlie old Virginia aristocracy had vied with each other in hospitable 
 attentions to the family. A court circle had sprung up. Regula- 
 tions had been drawn up by a herald, and published officially, 
 determining the rank and precedence of civil and military officers, 
 and their wives. The aristocracy of the Ancient Dominion was 
 furbishing up its former splendor. Carriages and four rolled into 
 the streets of Williamsburg, with horses handsomely caparisoned, 
 bringing the wealthy planters and their families to the seat of 
 government. 
 
 All things were going on smoothly and smilingly, when a letter, 
 received through the corresponding committee, brought intelligence 
 of the vindictive measure of Parliament, by which the port of 
 Boston was to be closed on the approaching ist of June. 
 
 The letter was read in the House of Burgesses, and produced a 
 general burst of indignation. All other business was thrown aside, 
 and this became the sole subject of discussion. A protest against 
 this and other recent acts of Parliament was entered upon the 
 journal of the House, and a resolution was adopted, on the 24th of 
 May, setting apart the 1st of June as a day of fasting, prayer, and 
 humiliation ; in which the divine interposition was to be implored, 
 to avert the heavy calamity threatening destruction to their rights, 
 and all the evils of civil war ; and to give the people one heart and 
 one mind in firmly opposing every injury to American liberties. 
 
 On the following morning, while the Burgesses were engaged in 
 animated debate, they were summoned to attend Lord Dunmore in 
 the council chamber, where he made them the following laconic 
 speech: "Mr. Speaker, and Gentlemen of the House of Bur- 
 gesses ; I have in my hand a paper, published by orders of your 
 
1774] T^HE BOSTON PORT BILL. 143 
 
 House, conceived in such terms, as reflect highly upon his majesty, 
 and the Parliament of Great Britain, which makes it necessary for 
 me to dissolve you, and you are dissolved accordingly.'* The mem- 
 bers adjourned to the long room of the old Raleigh tavern, and 
 passed resolutions, denouncing the Boston port bill as a most dan- 
 gerous attempt to destroy the constitutional liberty and rights of all 
 North America; recommending their countr}'men to desist from 
 the use, not merely of tea, but of all kinds of East Indian com- 
 modities ; pronouncing an attack on one of the colonies, to enforce 
 arbitrary taxes, an attack on all ; and ordering the committee of 
 correspondence to communicate with the other corresponding com- 
 mittees, on the expediency of appointing deputies from the several 
 colonies of British America, to meet annually in General Con- 
 gress, at such place as might be deemed expedient, to deliberate on 
 such measures as the united interest of the colonies might require. 
 
 This was the first recommendation of a General Congress by any 
 public assembly, though it had been previously proposed in town 
 meetings at New York and Boston. A resolution to the same 
 efi^ect was passed in the Assembly of Massachusetts before it was 
 aware of the proceedings of the Virginia Legislature, Tlie 
 measure recommended met with prompt and general concurrence 
 throughout the colonies, and the fifth day of September next ensu- 
 ing was fixed upon for the meeting of the first Congress, which was 
 to be held at Philadelphia. 
 
 Washington was still at Wilhamsburg on the ist of June, the 
 day when the port bill was to be enforced at Boston. It was 
 ushered in by the tolling of bells, and observed by all true patriots 
 as a day of fasting and humiliation. Washington notes in his 
 diary that he fasted rigidly, and attended the services appointed in 
 the church. The harbor of Boston was closed at noon, and all 
 business ceased. The two other parliamentary acts altering the 
 charter of Massachusetts were to be enforced. No pubhc meetings, 
 excepting the annual town meetings in March and May, were to 
 be held without permission of the governor. General Thomas 
 Gage had recently been appointed to the military command of 
 Massachusetts, and the carrying out of these offensive acts. He 
 was the same officer who, as lieutenant-colonel, had led the 
 advance guard on the field of Braddock's defeat. Fortune had 
 since gone well with him. Rising in the service, he had been 
 governor of Montreal, and had succeeded Amherst in the com- 
 mand of the British forces on this continent. He was linked to 
 the country also by domestic ties, having married into one of the 
 most respectable families of New Jersey. With all his experience 
 in America, he had formed a most erroneous opinion of the charac- 
 ter of the people. " The Americans," said he to the king, "will 
 be lions only as long as the English are lambs ; " and he engaged, 
 with five regiments to keep Boston quiet ! The manner in which 
 his attempts to enforce the recent acts of Parliament were resented, 
 showed how egregiously he was in error. At the suggestion of the 
 Assembly, a paper was circulated through the province by the 
 committee of correspondence, entitled "a solemn league and 
 
144 L^F^ OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 covenant," the subscribers to which bound themselves to break 
 off all intercourse vi^ith Great Britain from the ist of August, until 
 the colony should be restored to the enjoyment of its chartered 
 rights ; and to renounce all dealings with those who should refuse 
 to enter into this compact. 
 
 The very title of league and covenant had an ominous sound, 
 and startled General Gage. He issued a proclamation, denounc- 
 ing it as illegal and traitorous. Furthermore, he encamped a force 
 of infantry and artillery on Boston Common, as if prepared to 
 enact the lion. An alarm spread through the adjacent country. 
 " Boston is to be blockaded ! Boston is to be reduced to obedience 
 by force or famine ! " The spirit of the yeomanry was aroused. 
 They sent in word to the inhabitants promising to come to their aid 
 if necessary ; and urging them to stand fast to the faith. 
 
 Shortly after Washington's return to Mount Vernon, in the latter 
 part of June, he presided as moderator at a meeting of the inhabit- 
 ants of Fairfax County, wherein, after the recent acts of Parlia- 
 ment had been discussed, a committee was appointed, with himself 
 as chairman, to draw up resolutions expressive of the sentiments of 
 the present meeting, and to report the same at a general meeting 
 of the county, to be held in the court-house on the i8th of July. 
 
 The committee met according to appointment, with Washington 
 as chairman. The resolutions framed at the meeting insisted, as 
 usual, on the right of self-government, and the principal that taxa- 
 tion and representation were in their nature inseparable. That the 
 various acts of Parliament for raising revenue ; taking away trials 
 by jury; ordering that persons might be tried in a different country 
 from that in which the cause of accusation originated ; closing the 
 port of Boston ; abrogating the charter of Massachusetts Bay, 
 &c., &c., — were all part of a premeditated design and system to in- 
 troduce arbitrary government into the colonies. That the sudden 
 and repeated dissolutions of Assemblies whenever they presumed 
 to examine the illegahty of ministerial mandates, or deliberated on 
 the violated rights of their constituents, were part of the same 
 system, and calculated and intended to drive the people of the 
 colonies to a state of desperation, and to dissolve the compact by 
 which their ancestors bound themselves and their posterity to re- 
 main depend on the British crown. These resolutions are the more 
 worthy of note, as expressive of the opinions and feelings of Wash- 
 ington at this eventful time, if not being entirely dictated by him. 
 
 The resolutions reported by the committee were adopted, and 
 Washington was chosen a delegate to represent the county at the 
 General Convention of the province, to be held at Williamsburg 
 on the first of August. 
 
 The popular measure on which Washington laid the greatest 
 stress as a means of obtaining redress from government, was the 
 non-importation scheme ; "for I am convinced," said he, " as much 
 as of my existence, that there is no rehef for us but in their distress ; 
 and I think — at least I hope — that there is public virtue enough left 
 among us to deny ourselves everything but the bare necessaries of 
 life to accomplish this end." At the same time, he forcibly con- 
 
I774-] VIRGINIA CONVENTION, 145 
 
 demned a suggestion that remittances to England should be with- 
 held. •• Wliile we are accusing others of injustice," said he, " we 
 should be just ourselves ; and how this can be while we owe a con- 
 siderable debt, and refuse payment of it to Great Britain is to me 
 inconceivable : nothing but the last extremity can justify it." 
 
 On the 1st of August, the convention of representatives from all 
 parts of Virginia assembled at Williamsburg. Washington appeared 
 on behalf of Fairfax County, and presented the resolutions, already 
 cited, as the sense of his constituents. He is said by one who was 
 present, to have spoken in support of them in a strain of uncom- 
 mon eloquence, which shows how his latent ardor had been excited 
 on the occasion, as eloquence was not in general among his attri- 
 butes. It is evident, however, that he was roused to an unusual 
 pitch of enthusiasm, for he is said to have declared that he was 
 ready to raise one thousand men, subsist them at his own expense, 
 and march at their head to the relief of Boston. The Convention 
 was six days in session. Resolutions, in the same spirit with those 
 passed in Fairfax County, were adopted, and Peyton Randolph, 
 Richard Henry Lee, George Washington, Patrick Henry, Richard 
 Bland, Benjamin Harrison, and Edmund Pendleton, were appointed 
 delegates to represent the people of Virginia in the General Con- 
 gress. 
 
 Washington had formed a correct opinion of the position of Gen- 
 eral Gage. From the time of taking command at Boston, he had 
 been perplexed how to manage its inhabitants. Had they been 
 hot-headed, impulsive, and prone to paroxysm, his task would 
 have been comparatively easy ; but it was the cool, shrewd, com- 
 mon sense, by which all their movements were regulated, that con- 
 founded him. 
 
 High-handed measures had failed of the anticipated effect. 
 Their harbor had been thronged with ships ; their town with troops. 
 The port bill had put an end to commerce ; wharves were deserted, 
 warehouses closed ; streets grass-grown and silent. The rich were 
 growing poor, and the poor were without employ ; yet the spirit of 
 the people was unbroken. There was no uproar, however ; no 
 riots ; everything was awfully systematic and according to rule. 
 Town meetings were held, in which public rights and public meas- 
 ures were eloquently discussed by John Adams, Josiah Quincy, 
 and other eminent men. Over these meetings Samuel Adams pre- 
 sided as moderator ; a man clear in judgment, calm in conduct, 
 inflexible in resolution ; deeply grounded in civil and political his- 
 tory, and infallible on all points of constitutional law. 
 
 Alarmed at the powerful influence of these assemblages, govern- 
 ment issued an act prohibiting them after the ist of August. The 
 act was evaded by convoking the meetings before the day, and 
 keeping them alive indefinitely. Gage was at a loss how to act. 
 It would not do to disperse these assemblages by force of arms ; 
 for, the people who composed them mingled the soldier with the 
 polemic ; and, like their prototypes, the covenanters of yore, if 
 prone to argue, were as ready to fight. So the meetings continued 
 to be held pertinaciously. Faneuil Hall was at times unable to hold 
 
146 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 them, and they swarmed from that revolutionary hive into old 
 South Church. The liberty tree became a rallying place for any 
 popular movement, and a flag hoisted on it was saluted by all pro- 
 cessions as the emblem of the popular cause. 
 
 Opposition to the new plan of government assumed a more vio- 
 lent aspect at the extremity of the province, and was abetted by 
 Connecticut. " It is very high," writes Gage, (August 26th), " in 
 Berkshire County, and makes way rapidly to the rest. At Wor- 
 cester they threaten resistance, purchase arms, provide powder, 
 cast balls, and threaten to attack any troops who may oppose them. 
 I apprehend I shall soon have to march a body of troops into that 
 township." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FIRST CONTINENTAL CONGRESS. 
 
 When the time approached for the meeting of the General Con- 
 gress at Phifedelphia, Washington was joined at Mount Vernon by 
 Patrick Henry, and Edmund Pendleton, and they performed the 
 journey together on horseback. It was a noble companionship. 
 Henry was then in the youthful vigor and elasticity of his bounding 
 genius ; ardent, acute, fanciful, eloquent. Pendleton, schooled in 
 public hfe, a veteran in council, with native force of intellect, and 
 habits of deep reflection. Washington, in the meridian of his days, 
 mature in wisdom, comprehensive in mind, sagacious in foresight. 
 Such were the apostles of liberty, repairing on their august pilgrim- 
 age to Philadelphia from all parts of the land, to lay the founda- 
 tions of a mighty empire. Well may we say of that eventful period, 
 " There were giants in those days." 
 
 Congress assembled on Monday, the 5th of September, in a large 
 room in Carpenter's Hall. There were fifty-one delegates, repre- 
 senting all the colonies excepting Georgia. 
 
 The meeting has been described as " awfully solemn." The 
 most eminent men of the various colonies were now for the first 
 time brought together ; they were known to each other by fame, 
 but were, personally, strangers. The object which had called them 
 together was of incalculable magnitude. The liberties of no less than 
 three millions of people, with that of all their posterity, were staked 
 on the wisdom and energy of their councils. " It is such an as- 
 sembly," writes John Adams, who was present, "as never before 
 came together on a sudden, in any part of the world. Here are 
 fortunes, abilities, learning, eloquence, acuteness, equal to any I 
 ever met with in my life. Here is a diversity of religion, educations, 
 manners, interests, such as it would seem impossible to unite in one 
 plan of conduct." 
 
 There being an inequality in the number of delegates from the 
 
1774.] MEETING OF THE FIRST CONGRESS. 147 
 
 different colonies, a question arose as to the mode of voting ; 
 whether by colonies, by the poll, or by interests. Patrick Henry 
 scouted the idea of sectional distinctions or individual interests. 
 "All America," said he, "is thrown into one mass. Wliere are 
 your landmarks — your boundaries of colonies.'' They are all 
 thrown down. The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsyl- 
 vanians. New Yorkers and New Englanders, are no more. I am 
 not a Vi7'ginia7t, but an American^ After some debate, it was 
 determined that each colony should have but one vote, whatever 
 might be the number of its delegates. The deliberations of the 
 House were to be with closed doors, and nothing but the resolves 
 promulgated, unless by order of the majority. To give proper 
 dignity and solemnity to the proceedings of the House, it was 
 moved on the following day, that each morning the session should 
 be opened by prayer. To this it was demurred, that as the dele- 
 gates were of different religious sects they might not consent to 
 join in the same form of worship. Upon this, Mr. Samuel Adams 
 arose and said: "He would willingly join in prayer with any gen- 
 tleman of piety and virtue, whatever might be his cloth, provided 
 he was a friend of his country ;" and he moved that the reverend 
 Mr. Duche, of Philadelphia, who answered to that description, 
 might be invited to officiate as chaplain. This was one step 
 toward unanimity of feehng, Mr. Adams being a strong Congrega- 
 tionalist, and Mr. Uuche an eminent Episcopalian clergyman. 
 The motion was carried into effect ; the invitation was given and 
 accepted. 
 
 In the course of the day, a rumor reached Philadelphia that Bos- 
 ton had been cannonaded by the British. It produced a strong 
 sensation ; and when Congress met on the following morning (7th), 
 the effect was visible in every countenance. The delegates from 
 the east were greeted with a warmer grasp of the hand by their 
 associates from the south. 
 
 The reverend Mr. Duche, according to invitation appeared in 
 his canonicals, attended by his clerk. The morning service of the 
 Episcopal church was read with great solemnity, the clerk making 
 the responses. The Psalter for the 7th day of the month includes 
 the 35th Psalm, wherein David prays for protection against his 
 enemies. " Plead my cause, O Lord, with them that strive with 
 me : fight against them that f\ght against me. Take hold of 
 shield and buckler and stand up for my help. Draw out, also, the 
 spear and stop the way of them that persecute me. Say unto my 
 soul, I am thy salvation." The imploring words of this psalm 
 spoke the feelings of all hearts present ; but especially of three 
 from New England. 
 
 John Adams writes in a letter to his wife : "You must remember 
 this was the morning after we heard the horrible rumor of the can- 
 nonade of Boston. I never saw a greater effect upon an audience. 
 It seemed as if heaven had ordained that psalm to be read on that 
 morning. After this, Mr. Duche unexpectedly struck out into an 
 extemporary prayer, which filled the bosom of every man present. 
 Episcopalian as he is, Dr. Cooper himself never prayed with such 
 
148 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 fervor, such ardor, such earnestness and pathos, and in language 
 so eloquent and subhme, for America, for the congress, for the 
 province of Masschusetts Bay, and especially the town of Boston. 
 It has had an excellent effect upon everybody here." 
 
 The rumored attack upon Boston rendered the service of the 
 day deeply affecting to all present. They were one political fam- 
 ily, actuated by one feeling, and sympathizing with the weal and 
 woe of each individual member. The rumor proved to be erro- 
 neous ; but it had produced utmost beneficial effect in calling forth 
 and quickening the spirit of union, so vitally important in that 
 assemblage. 
 
 Owing to closed doors, and the want of reporters, no record 
 exists of the discussions and speeches made in the first Congress. 
 Mr. Wirt, speaking from tradition, informs us that a long and deep 
 silence followed the organization of that august body ; the mem- 
 bers looking round upon each other, individually reluctant to 
 open a business so fearfully momentous. This " deep and death- 
 like silence" was beginning to become painfully embarrassing, 
 when Patrick Henry arose. He faltered at first, as was his habit", 
 but his exordium was impressive ; and as he launched forth into a 
 recital of colonial wrongs he kindled with his subject, until he 
 poured forth one of those eloquent appeals which had so often 
 shaken the House of Burgesses and gained him the fame of being 
 the greatest orator of Virginia. He sat down, according to Mr. 
 Wirt, amidst murmurs of astonishment and applause, and was 
 now admitted on every hand, to be the first orator of America. He 
 was followed by Richard Henry Lee, who, according to the same 
 writer, charmed the house with a different kind of eloquence, chaste 
 and classical ; contrasting, in its cultivated graces, with the wild and 
 grand effusions of Henry. "The superior powers of these great 
 men, however," adds he, "were manifested only in debate, and 
 while general grievances were the topic ; when called down from the 
 heights of declamation to that severer test of intellectual excel- 
 lence, the details of business, they found themselves in a body of 
 cool-headed, reflecting, and most able men, by whom they were, 
 in their turn, completely thrown into the shade." 
 
 The first public measure of Congress was a resolution declara- 
 tory of their feelings with regard to the recent acts of Parliament, 
 violating the rights of the people of Massachusetts, and of their 
 determination to combine in resisting any force that might attempt 
 to carry those acts into execution. 
 
 A committee of two from each province reported a series of res- 
 olutions, which were adopted and promulgated by Congress, as a 
 "declaration of colonial rights." In this were enumerated their 
 natural rights to the enjoyment of life, liberty, and property ; and 
 their rights as British subjects. Among the latter was partici- 
 pation in legislation Councils. This they could not exercise 
 through representatives in ParHament; they claimed, therefore, 
 the power of legislating in their provincial assemblies ; consenting, 
 however, to such acts of Parliament as might be essential to the 
 regulation of trade ; but excluding all taxation, internal or external, 
 
1 774.] DECLARA TOR Y RESOLUTION. 149 
 
 for raising revenue in America. The common law of England 
 was claimed as a birthright, including the right of trial by a jury 
 of the vicinage ; of holding public meetings to consider grievances; 
 and of petitioning the king. The benefits of all such statutes as 
 existed at the time of the colonization were likewise claimed ; 
 together with the immunities and privileges granted by royal 
 charters, or secured by provincial laws. The maintenance of a 
 standing army in any colony in time of peace, without the consent 
 of its legislative, was pronounced contrary to law. The exercise 
 of the legislature power in the colonies by a council appointed 
 during pleasure by the crown, was declared to be unconstitutional, 
 and destructive to the freedom of American legislation. Then fol- 
 lowed a specification of the acts of Parliament, passed during the 
 reign of George III., infringing and violating these rights. These 
 were the sugar act; the stamp act; the two acts for quartering 
 troops ; the tea act ; the act suspending the New York legislature ; 
 the two acts for the trial in Great Britain of offences committed in 
 America ; the Boston port bill ; the act for regulating the govern- 
 ment of Massachusetts, and the Quebec act. "To these grievous 
 acts and measures," it was added, "Americans cannot submit; 
 but in hopes their fellow subjects in Great Britain will, on a revision 
 of them, restore us to that state in which both countries found hap- 
 piness and prosperity, we have, for the present, only resolved to 
 pursue the following peaceable measures : " ist. To enter into a 
 non-importation, non-consumption, and non-exportation agreement 
 or association." "2d. To prepare an address to the people of 
 Great Britain, and a memorial to the inhabitants of British 
 America." " 3d. To prepare a loyal address to his majesty." 
 
 The Congress remained in session fifty-one days. Every subject 
 according to Adams, was discussed "with a moderation, an acute- 
 ness, and a minuteness equal to that of Queen Elizabeth's privy 
 council." The papers issued by it have deservedly been pro- 
 nounced masterpieces of practical talent and political wisdom. 
 Chatham, when speaking on the subject in the House of Lords, 
 could not restrain his enthusiasm. " When your lordships," said 
 he, "look at the papers transmitted to us from America; when 
 you consider their decency, firmness, and wisdom, you cannot but 
 respect their cause, and wish to make it your own. For myself, I 
 must declare and avow that, in the master states of the world, 
 I know not the people, or senate, who, in such a complication of 
 difficult circumstances, can stand in preference to the delegates of 
 America assembled in General Congress at Philadelphia." 
 
 From the secrecy that enveloped its discussions, we are ignorant 
 of the part taken by Washington in the debates ; the similarity of 
 the resolutions, however, in spirit and substance to those of the 
 Fairfax County meeting, in which he presided, and the coincidence 
 of the measures adopted with those therein recommended, show 
 that he had a powerful agency in the whole proceedings of this 
 eventful assembly. Patrick Henry, being asked, on his return 
 home, whom he considered the greatest man in Congress, replied : 
 "If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is 
 
150 THE LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information 
 and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the 
 greatest man on that floor." 
 
 Washington's views with respect to independence are expressed 
 in a letter to Capt. Robert Mackenzie, a British officer. He says : — 
 "I am well satisfied that no such thing is desired by any thinking 
 man in all North America ; on the contrary, that it is the ardent 
 wish of the warmest advocate for liberty, that peace and tranquillity, 
 upon constitutional grounds, may be restored, and the horrors of 
 civil discord prevented." It is evident that the filial feeling still 
 throbbed toward the mother country, and a complete separation 
 from her had not yet entered into the alternatives of her colonial 
 children. 
 
 In the same letter, Washington says, that the people will never 
 " submit to the loss of their valuable rights and privileges, which 
 must naturally result fiom the late acts of Parliament relative to 
 America in general, and the government of Massachusetts in par- 
 ticular, is it to be wondered at that men who wish to avert the 
 impending blow, should attempt to oppose its progress, or prepare 
 for their defence, if it cannot be averted? Surely I may be 
 allowed to answer in the negative ; and give me leave to add, as 
 my opinion, that more blood will be spilled on this occasion, if the 
 ministry are determined to push matters to extremity, than histoiy 
 has ever yet furnished instances of in the annals of North America ; 
 and such a vital wound will be given to the peace of this great coun- 
 try, as time itself cannot cure or eradicate the remembrance of." 
 
 On the breaking up of Congress, Washington hastened back to 
 Mount Vernon, where his presence was more than usually import- 
 ant to the happiness of Mrs. Washington, from the loneliness caused 
 by the recent death of her daughter, and the absence of her son. 
 The cheerfulness of the neighborhood had been diminished of late 
 by the departure of George William Fairfax for England, to take 
 possession of estates which had devolved to him in that kingdom. 
 His estate of Belvoir, so closely aUied with that of Mount Vernon 
 by family ties and reciprocal hospitality, was left in charge of a 
 steward, or overseer. Through some accident the house took fire, 
 and was burned to the ground. It was never rebuilt. The course 
 of political events which swept Washington from his quiet home 
 into the current of public and military life, prevented William Fair- 
 fax, who was a royalist, though a liberal one, from returning to his 
 once happy abode, and the hospitable intercommunion of Mount 
 Vernon and Belvoir was at an end forever. 
 
 The rumor of the cannonading of Boston, which had thrown 
 such a gloom over the religious ceremonial at the opening of Con- 
 gress, had been caused by measures of Governor Gage. The public 
 mind, in Boston and its vicinity, had been rendered excessively jeal- 
 ■ ous and sensitive by the landing and encamping of artillery upon 
 the Common, and Welsh Fusihers on Fort Hill, and by the plant- 
 ing of four large field-pieces on Boston Neck, the only entrance to 
 the town by land. The country people were arming and disci- 
 plining themselves in every direction, and collecting and depositing 
 arms and ammunition in places where they would be at hand in case 
 
1774.] GENERAL CHARLES LEE. 151 
 
 of emergency. Gage, on the other hand, issued orders that the 
 munitions of war in all the public magazines should be brought 
 to Boston. One of these magazines was the arsenal in the north- 
 west part of Charlestown, between Medford and Cambridge. Two 
 companies of the king's troops passed silenty in boats up Mystic 
 River in the night ; took possession of a large quantity of gun- 
 powder deposited there, and conveyed it to Castle Williams. In- 
 telligence of this sacking of the arsenal flew with lightning speed 
 through the neighborhood. In the morning several thousands 
 of patriots were assembled at Cambridge, weapon in hand, and 
 were with difficulty prevented from marching upon Boston to 
 compel a restitution of the powder. 
 
 In the meantime the belligerent feelings of the inhabitants were 
 encouraged, by learning how the rumor of their being cannonaded 
 had been received in the General Congress, and by assurances 
 from all parts that the cause of Boston would be made the common 
 cause of America. " It is surprising," writes General Gage, "that 
 so many of the other provinces interest themselves so much in this. 
 They have some warm friends in New York, and I learn that the 
 people of Charleston, South Carolina, are as mad as they are here." 
 
 Among other portentous signs, war-hawks began to appear above 
 the horizon. Mrs. Cushing, wife to a member of Congress, writes 
 to her husband. "Two of the greatest military characters of the 
 day are visiting this distressed town. General Charles Lee, who 
 has served in Poland, and Colonel Israel Putnam, whose bravery 
 and character need no description." As these two men will take a 
 prominent part in coming events, we pause to give a word or two 
 concerning them. Israel Putnam was a soldier of native growth. 
 One of the military productions of the French war ; seasoned and 
 proved in frontier campaigning. He had served at Louisburg, 
 Fort Duquesne, and Crown Point; had signalized himself in In- 
 dian warfare ; been captured by the savages, tied to a stake to be 
 tortured and burned, and had only been rescued by the interfer- 
 ence, at the eleventh hour, of a French partisan of the Indians. 
 Since the peace, he had returned to agricultural life, and was now 
 a farmer at Pomfret, in Connecticut, where the scars of his 
 wounds and the tales of his exploits rendered him a hero in popular 
 estimation. The war spirit yet burned within him. He was now 
 chairman of a committee of vigilance, and had come to Boston in 
 discharge of his pohtical and semi-belligerent functions. 
 
 General Charles Lee was a military man of a different stamp ; 
 an Englishman by birth, and a highly cultivated production of 
 European warfare. He was the son of a British officer, Lieuten- 
 ant-Colonel John Lee, of the dragoons, who manied the daughter 
 of Sir Henry Bunbury, Bart., and afterward rose to be a general. 
 Lee was born in 1731, and may almost be said to have been 
 cradled in the army, for he received a commission by the time he 
 was eleven years of age. He had an irregular education ; part of 
 the time in England, part on the continent, and must have 
 scrambled his way into knowledge : yet by aptness, diligence and 
 ambition, he had acquired a considerable portion, being a Greek 
 
152 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and Latin scholar, and acquainted with modern languages. The 
 art of war was his especial study from his boyhood, and he had 
 early opportunities of practical experience. At the age of twenty- 
 four, he commanded a company of grenadiers in the 44th 
 regiment, and served in the French war in America, where he was 
 brought into military companionship with Sir William Johnson's 
 Mohawk warriors, whom he used to extol for their manly beauty, 
 their dress, their graceful carriage and good breeding. In fact, he 
 rendered himself so much of a favorite among them, that they 
 admitted him to smoke in their councils, and adopted him into the 
 tribe of the Bear, giving him an Indian name, signifying "Boiling 
 Water." At the battle of Ticonderoga, where Abercrombie was 
 defeated, he was shot through the body, while leading his men 
 against the French breastworks. In the next campaign, he was 
 present at the siege of Fort Niagara, where General Prideaux fell, 
 and where Sir William Johnson, with his British troops and 
 Mohawk warriors eventually won the fortress. Lee had, probably, 
 an opportunity on this occasion of fighting side by side with some 
 of his adopted brethren of the Bear tribe, as we are told he was 
 much exposed during the engagement with the French and 
 Indians, and that two balls grazed his hair. A military errand, 
 afterward, took him across Lake Erie, and down the northern 
 branch of the Ohio to Fort Duquesne, and thence by a long march 
 of seven hundred miles to Crown Point, where he joined General 
 Amherst. In 1760, he was among the forces which followed that 
 general form Lake Ontario down the St. Lawrence ; and was 
 present at the surrender of Montreal, which completed the con- 
 quest of Canada. He now determined to offer his services to 
 Poland, supposed to be on the verge of a war. He was well 
 received by Frederick the Great, and had several conversations 
 with him, chiefly on American affairs. At Warsaw, his military 
 reputation secured him the favor of Poniatowsky, recently elected 
 king of Poland, with the name of Stanislaus Augustus, who 
 admitted him to his table, and made him one of his aides-de-camp. 
 He for some time led a restless life about Europe — visidng Italy, 
 Sicily, Malta, and the south of Spain ; troubled with attacks of 
 rheumatism, gout, and the effects of a "Hungarian fever." He 
 had become more and more cynical and irascible, and had more 
 than one "affair of honor," in one of which he killed his antag- 
 onist. His splenetic feehngs, as well as his political sentiments, 
 were occasionally vented in severe attacks upon the ministry, full 
 of irony and sarcasm. They appeared in the public journals, and 
 gained him such reputation, that even the papers of Junius were by 
 some attributed to him. 
 
 In the questions which had risen between England and her 
 colonies, he had strongly advocated the cause of the latter ; and it 
 was the feehngs thus excited, and the recollections, perhaps, of his 
 early campaigns, that brought him to America, in the latter part 
 of 1773. His caustic attacks upon the ministry ; his conversational 
 
 Eowers and his poignant sallies, had gained him great reputation ; 
 ut his military renov/n rendered him especially interesting at the 
 
1774] PROVINCIAL CONGRESS AT CONCORD. 153 
 
 present juncture. A general, who had served in the famous cam- 
 paigns of Europe, commanded Cossacks, fought with Turks, talked 
 with Frederick the Great, and been aide-de-camp to the king of 
 Poland, was a prodigious acquisition to the patriot cause ! On the 
 other hand, his visit to Boston was looked upon with uneasiness by 
 the British officers, who knew his adventurous character. It was 
 surmised that he was exciting a spirit of revolt, with a view to put- 
 ting himself at its head. 
 
 Boston was the only place in Massachusetts that now contained 
 British forces, and it had become the refuge of all the *' tories" of 
 the province ; that is to say, of all those devoted to the British 
 government. There was animosity between them and the principal 
 inhabitants, among whom revolutionary principles prevailed. The 
 town itself, almost insulated by nature, and surrounded by a hostile 
 country, was like a place besieged. 
 
 This semi-belligerent state of affairs in Massachusetts produced a 
 general restlessness throughout the land. The weak-hearted 
 apprehended coming troubles; the resolute prepared to brave them. 
 Military measures, hitherto confined to New England, extended to 
 the middle and southern provinces, and the roll of the drum 
 resounded through the villages. Virginia was among the first to 
 buckle on its armor. It had long been a custom among its inhabi- 
 tants to form themselves into independent companies, equipped at 
 their own expense, having their own peculiar uniform, and electing 
 their own officers, though holding themselves subject to militia law. 
 They had hitherto been self-disciplined ; but now they continually 
 resorted to Washington for instruction and advice ; considering him 
 the highest authority on military affairs. He was frequently called 
 from home, therefore, in the course of the winter and spring, to 
 different parts of the country to review independent companies, all 
 of which were anxious to put themselves under his command as 
 field-officer. Mount Vernon, therefore, again assumed a military 
 tone as in former days, when he took his first lessons there in the 
 art of war. He had his old campaigning associates with him occa- 
 sionally. Dr. Craik and Captain Hugh Mercer, to talk of past scenes 
 and discuss the possibility of future service. Mercer was already 
 bestirring himself in disciphning the militia about Fredericksburg, 
 where he resided. 
 
 Two occasional and important guests at Mount Vernon, in this 
 momentous crisis, were General Charles Lee, of whom we have 
 just spoken, and Major Horatio Gates. As the latter is destined to 
 occupy an important page in this memoir, we will give a few par- 
 ticulars concerning him. He was an Englishman by birth, the son 
 of a captain in the British army. He had received a liberal edu- 
 cation, and, when but twenty-one years of age, had sensed as a 
 volunteer under General Edward Cornwallis, Governor of Hahfax. 
 He was afterward captain of a New York independent company, 
 with which he marched in the campaign of Braddock, in which 
 he was severely wounded. For two or three subsequent years he 
 was with his company in the western part of the province of New 
 York, receiving the appointment of brigade-major. He accom- 
 
154 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 panied General Monckton as aide-de-camp to the West Indies, and 
 gained credit at the capture of Martinico. Thus several years 
 were passed, partly with his family in retirement, partly in London, 
 paying court to patrons and men in power, until, finding there was 
 no likelihood of success, and having sold his commission and half- 
 pay, he emigrated to Virginia in 1772, a disappointed man; pur- 
 chased an estate in Berkeley County, beyond the Blue Ridge ; 
 espoused the popular cause, and renewed his old campaigning 
 acquaintance with Washington. He was now about forty-six years 
 of age, of a florid complexion and goodly presence, though a little 
 inclined to corpulency ; social, insinuating, and somewhat specious 
 in his manners, with a strong degree of self-approbation. Lee, 
 who was an old friend and former associate in arms, had recently 
 been induced by him to purchase an estate in his neighborhood in 
 Berkeley County, with a view to making it his abode, having a 
 moderate competency, a claim to land on the Ohio, and the half- 
 pay of a British colonel. Both of these officers, disappointed in 
 the British service, looked forward probably to greater success in 
 the patriot cause. 
 
 Lee had been at Philadelphia since his visit to Boston, and had 
 made himself acquainted with the leading members of Congress 
 during the session. He was evidently cultivating an intimacy with 
 every one likely to have influence in the approaching struggle. To 
 Washington the visits of these gentlemen were extremely welcome 
 at this juncture, from their military knowledge and experience, 
 especially as much of it had been acquired in America, in the same 
 kind of warfare, if not the very same campaigns in which he 
 himself had mingled. Both were interested in the popular 
 cause. Lee was full of plans for the organization and disciplining 
 of the militia, and occasionally accompanied Washington in his 
 attendance on provincial reviews. He was subsequently very 
 efficient at AnnapoHs in promodng and superintending the organiza- 
 tion of the Maryland militia. 
 
 It is doubtful whether the visits of Lee were as interesting to Mrs. 
 Washington as to the general. He was whimsical, eccentric, and 
 at times almost rude ; negligent also, and slovenly in person and 
 attire ; for though he had occasionally associated with kings and 
 princes, he had also campaigned with Mohawks and Cossacks, and 
 seems to have rehshed their "good breeding." What was still 
 more annoying in a well regulated mansion, he was always followed 
 by a legion of dogs, which shared his affections with his horses, 
 and took their seats by him when at the table. " I must have some 
 object to embrace," said he misanthropically. "When I can be 
 convinced that men are as worthy objects as dogs, I shall transfer my 
 benevolence, and become as staunch a philanthropist as the canting 
 Addison affected to be." 
 
 In the month of March the second Virginia convention was held 
 at Richmond. Washington attended as delegate from Fairfax 
 County. In this assembly, Patrick Henry, with his usual ardor 
 and eloquence, advocated measures for embodying, arming and 
 disciplining a miUtia force, and providing for the defence of the 
 
I775J A DISASTROUS TRIUMPH. I55 
 
 colony. "It is useless," said he, "to address further petitions to 
 government, or to await the effect of those already addressed to 
 the throne. The time for suppHcation is past ; the time for action 
 is at hand. We must fight, Air. Speaker, ' exclaimed he emphat- 
 ically ; "I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and 
 to the God of Hosts, is all that is left us!" Washington joined 
 him in the conviction, and was one of a committee that reported a 
 plan for carrying those measures into effect. He was not an 
 impulsive man to raise the battle cry, but the executive man to 
 marshal the troops into the field and carry on the war. His 
 brother, John Augustine, was raising and disciplining an independent 
 company; Washington offered to accept the command of it, should 
 occasion require it to be drawn out. He did the same with 
 respect to an independent company at Richmond. " It is my full 
 intention, if needful," writes he to his brother, ''to devote my life 
 aud fortune to the cause.'* 
 
 The troops at Boston had been augmented to about 4000 men. 
 Gen. Gage resolved to surprise and destroy the magazine of miU- 
 tary stores at Concord, about twenty miles from Boston. On the 
 1 8th of April, officers were stationed on the roads leading from 
 Boston, to prevent any intelligence of the expedition getting into 
 the country. At night orders were issued by Gen, Gage, that no 
 person should leave the town. About eight o'clock, from eight to 
 nine hundred grenadiers, light infantry and marines, commanded 
 by Lieut. Col. Smith, embarked in the boats at the foot of Boston 
 Common, and crossed to Lechmere Point, in Cambridge, whence 
 they were to march silently, and without beat of drum, to the place 
 of destination. Dr. Joseph Warren, one of the committee of safety, 
 sent notice of these movements to John Hancock and Samuel 
 Adams, at that time sojourning with a friend at Lexington. The 
 committee of safety ordered that the cannon at Concord should be 
 secreted, and part of the stores removed. On the night of the i8th, 
 Dr. Warren sent off two messengers by different routes to give the 
 alarm. A lantern was hung out of an upper window of the next 
 church, in the direction of Charlestown, this was a preconcerted 
 signal to the patriots of that place, who instantly despatched swift 
 messengers to rouse the country. In the meantime Col. Smith had 
 proceeded but a few miles on his nocturnal march by an unfre- 
 quented path across marshes, where at times the troops had to wade 
 through water, when alarm guns, booming through the night air, 
 and the clang of village bells, showed that the news of his approach 
 was travelling before him, and the people were rising. He now 
 sent back to Gen. Gage for reinforcements, while Major Pitcairn 
 was detached with six companies, and advanced rapidly, capturing 
 every one that he met, or overtook. Within a mile and a half of 
 Lex\ngton, however, a horseman was too quick on the spur for him, 
 and galloping to the village, gave the alarm that the red coats 
 were coming. Drums were beaten ; guns fired. By the time that 
 Pitcairn entered the village, about seventy or eighty of the yeo- 
 manry, in military aiTay, were mustered on the green near the 
 church. It was a part of the "constitutional army," pledged to 
 
156 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 resist, by force, any open hostility. Pitcairn halted his men within 
 a short distance of the church, and ordered his men to prime and 
 load. They then advanced at double quick time. The Major, 
 riding forward, waved his sword, and ordered the " rebels," as he 
 termed them, to disperse. Other of the officers echoed his words 
 as they advanced : " Disperse, ye villains! Lay down your arms, 
 ye rebels, and disperse ! " The order was disregarded. A scene 
 of confusion ensued, with firing on both sides ; which party com- 
 menced it, has been a matter of dispute. Pitcairn always main- 
 tained that he turned to order his men to draw out and surround 
 the militia, when he saw a flash in the pan from the gun of a coun- 
 tryman posted behind a wall, and almost instantly the report of 
 two or three muskets, which he supposed to be from the Americans, 
 as his horse was wounded, as was also a soldier close by him. 
 His troops rushed on, though, as he declared, he made repeated 
 signals with his sword for his men to forbear. 
 
 The firing of the Americans was irregular, and without much 
 effect ; that of the Bridsh was more fatal. Eight of the patriots 
 were killed, and ten wounded, and the whole put to flight. The 
 victors formed on the common, fired a volley, and gave three 
 cheers for one of the most inglorious and disastrous triumphs ever 
 achieved by British arms. Colonel Smith soon arrived with the 
 residue of the detachment, and they all marched on toward Con- 
 cord, about six miles distant. The alarm had reached that place 
 in the dead hour of the preceding night. The church bell roused 
 the inhabitants. They gathered together in anxious consultation. 
 The militia and minute men seized their arms, and repaired to the 
 parade ground, near the church. Here they were subsequently 
 joined by armed yeomanry from Lincoln, and elsewhere. Exer- 
 tions w-ere now made to remove and conceal the military stores. A 
 scout, who had been sent out for intelligence, brought word that 
 the British had fired upon the people at Lexington, and were 
 advancing upon Concord. There was great excitement and indig- 
 nation. Part of the militia marched down the Lexington road to 
 meet them, but returned, reporting their force to be three times 
 that of the Americans. The w4iole of the militia now retired to an 
 eminence about a mile from the center of the town, and formed 
 themselves into two battahons. 
 
 About seven o'clock, the British came in sight, advancing with 
 quick step, their arms glittering in the morning sun. They entered 
 in two divisions by different roads. Concord is traversed by a 
 river of the same name, having two bridges, the north and the 
 south. The grenadiers and light infantry took post in the center of 
 the town, while strong parties of hght troops w^ere detached to 
 secure the bridges, and destroy the military stores. Two hours 
 were expended in the work of destruction without much success, 
 so much of the stores having been removed, or concealed. During 
 all this time the yeomanry from the neighboring towns w^ere hurry- 
 ing in with such weapons as were at hand, and joining the mihtia on 
 the heights, until the little cloud of war gathering there numbered 
 about four hundred and fifty. 
 
1775] THE BRITISH CHASED FROM CONCORD. 157 
 
 About ten o'clock, a body of three hundred undertook to dis- 
 lodge the British from the north bridge. As they approached, the 
 latter fired upon them, killing two, and wounding a third. The 
 patriots returned the fire with spirit and effect. The British 
 retreated to the main body, the Americans pursuing them across 
 the bridge. 
 
 By this time all the military stores which could be found had 
 been destroyed ; Colonel Smith, therefore, made preparations for a 
 retreat. The scattered troops were collected, the dead were buried, 
 and conveyances procured for the wounded. About noon he com- 
 menced his retrograde march for Boston. It was high time. His 
 troops were jaded by the night march, and the morning's toils and 
 skirmishings. The country was thoroughly alarmed. The yeo- 
 manry were hurrying from every quarter to the scene of action. 
 As the British began their retreat, the Americans began the work 
 of sore and galling retaUation. Along the open road, the former 
 were harassed incessantly by rustic marksmen, who took deliberate 
 aim from behind trees, or over stone fences. Where the road 
 passed through woods, the British found themselves between two 
 fires, dealt by unseen foes, the minute men having posted 
 themselves on each side among the bushes. It was in vain they 
 threw out flankers, and endeavored to dislodge their assailants ; 
 each pause gave time for other pursuers to come within reach, 
 and open attacks from different quarters. For several miles they 
 urged their way along woody defiles, or roads skirted with fences 
 and stone walls, the retreat growing more and more disastrous ; 
 some were shot down, some gave out through mere exhaustion ; 
 the rest hurried on, without stopping to aid the fatigued, or 
 wounded. Before reaching Lexington, Colonel Smith received a 
 severe wound in the leg, and the situation of the retreating troops 
 was becoming extremely critical, w^hen, about two o'clock, they 
 were met by Lord Percy, with a brigade of one thousand men, 
 and two field-pieces. His lordship had been detached from 
 Boston about nine o'clock by General Gage, in compliance with 
 Colonel Smith's urgent call for a reinforcement, and had marched 
 gayly through Roxbury to the tune of "Yankee Doodle," in 
 derision of the "rebels." He now found the latter a more 
 formidable foe than he had anticipated. Opening his brigade to 
 the right and left, he received the retreating troops into a hollow 
 square ; where, fainting and exhausted, they threw themselves on 
 the ground to rest. His lordship showed no disposition to advance 
 upon their assailants, but contented himself with keeping them at 
 bay with his field-pieces, which opened a vigorous fire from an 
 eminence. 
 
 Hitherto the Provincials, being hasty levies, without a leader, 
 had acted from individual impulse, without much concert ; but 
 now General Heath was upon the ground. He was one of those 
 authorized to take command when the minute men should be called 
 out. That class of combatants promptly obeyed his orders, and 
 he was efficacious in rallying them, and bringing them into military 
 order, when checked and scattered by the fire of the field-pieces. 
 
158 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Dr. Warren, also, arrived on horseback, having spurred from 
 Boston on receiving news of the skirmishing. In the subsequent 
 part of the day, he was one of the most active and efficient men in 
 the field. His presence, hke that of General Heath, regulated the 
 infuriated ardor of the militia, and brought it into system. 
 
 Lord Percy, having allowed the troops a short interval for repose 
 and refreshment, continued the retreat toward Boston. As soon 
 as he got under march, the galling assault by the pursuing yeo- 
 manry was recommenced in flank and rear. The British soldiery, 
 irritated in turn, acted as if in an enemy's country. Houses and 
 shops were burned down in Lexington ; private dwellings along 
 the road were plundered, and their inhabitants maltreated. In one 
 instance, an unoffending invalid was wantonly slain in his own house. 
 All this increased the exasperation of the yeomanry. There was 
 occasional sharp skirmishing, with bloodshed on both sides, but in 
 general a dogged pursuit, where the retreating troops were galled 
 at every step. Their march became more and more impeded by 
 the number of their wounded. Lord Percy narrowly escaped 
 death from a musket-ball, which struck off a buttorh of his waist- 
 coat. One of his officers remained behind wounded in West Cam- 
 bridge. His ammunition was failing as he approached Charles- 
 town. The provincials pressed upon him in rear, others were 
 advancing from Roxbury, Dorchester, and Milton ; Colonel 
 Pickering, with the Essex militia, seven hundred strong, was at 
 band ; there was danger of being intercepted in the retreat to 
 Charlestown. The field-pieces were again brought into play, to 
 check the ardor of the pursuit ; but they were no longer objects of 
 terror. The sharpest firing of the provincials was near Prospect 
 Hill, as the harassed enemy hurried along the Charlestown road, 
 eager to reach the Neck, and get under cover of their ships. The 
 pursuit terminated a little after sunset, at Charlestown Common, 
 where General Heath brought the minute men to a halt. Within 
 half an hour more, a powerful body of men, from Marblehead and 
 Salem, came up to join in the chase. "If the retreat," writes 
 Washington, "had not been as precipitate as it was — and God 
 knows it could not well have been more so — the ministerial troops 
 must have surrendered, or been totally cut off." 
 
 The distant firing from the mainland had reached the British at 
 Boston. The troops which, in the morning, had marched through 
 Roxbury, to the tune of Yankee Doodle, might have been seen at 
 sunset, hounded along the old Cambridge road to Charlestown 
 Neck, by mere armed yeomanry. Gage was astounded at the 
 catastrophe. It was but a short time previous that one of his 
 officers, in writing to friends in England, scoffed at the idea of the 
 Americans taking up arms. " Whenever it comes to blows," said 
 he, " he that can run the fastest, will think himself well off, believe 
 me. Any two regiments here ought to be decimated, if they did 
 not beat in the field the whole force of the Massachusetts province." 
 How frequently, throughout this Revolution, had the English to 
 pay the penalty of thus undervaluing the spirit they were provok- 
 ing! 
 
1775] VIRGINIA IN COMBUSTION. 159 
 
 In this memorable affair, the British loss was seventy-three 
 killed, one hundred and seventy-four wounded, and twenty-six 
 missing. Among the slain were eighteen officers. The loss of the 
 Americans was forty-nine killed, thirty-nine wounded, and five 
 missing. This was the first blood shed in the revolutionary strug- 
 gle ; a mere drop in amount, but a deluge in its effects — rending 
 the colonies forever from the mother country. 
 
 The cry of blood from the field of Lexington went through the 
 land. None felt the appeal more than the old soldiers of the 
 French war. It roused John Stark, of New Hampshire — a trapper 
 and hunter in his youth, a veteran in Indian warfare, a campaigner 
 under Abercrombie and Amherst, now the military oracle of a 
 rustic neighborhood. Within ten minutes after receiving the 
 alarm, he was spurring toward the sea-coast, and on the way 
 stirring up the volunteers of the Massachusetts borders, to assemble 
 forthwith at Bedford, in the vicinity of Boston. 
 
 Equally alert was his old comrade in frontier exploits. Colonel 
 Israel Putnam. A man on horseback, with a drum, passed 
 through his neighborhood in Connecticut, proclaiming British 
 violence at Lexington. Putnam was in the field plowing, assisted 
 by his son. In an instant the team was unyoked ; the plow left in 
 the furrow ; the lad sent home to give word of his father's depart- 
 ure ; and Putnam, on horseback, in his working garb, urging with 
 all speed to the camp. Such was the spirit aroused throughout the 
 country. The sturdy yeomanry, from all parts, were hastening 
 toward Boston with such weapons as were at hand ; and happy 
 was he who could command a rusty fowling-piece and a powder- 
 horn. 
 
 The news reached Vij;ginia at a critical moment. Lord Dun- 
 more, obeying a general order issued by the ministry to all the 
 provincial governors, had seized upon the military munitions of the 
 province. Here was a similar measure to that of Gage. The cry 
 went forth that the subjugation of the colonies was to be attempted. 
 All Virginia was in combustion. The standard of hberty was 
 reared in every county ; there was a general cry to arms. Wash- 
 ington was looked to, from various quarters, to take command. 
 His old comrade in arms, Hugh Mercer, was about marching down 
 to Williamsburg at the head of a body of resolute men, seven hun- 
 dred strong, entitled '*The friends of constitutional liberty and 
 America^" whom he had organized and drilled in Fredericksburg, 
 and nothing but a timely concession of Lord Dunmore, with respect 
 to some powder which he had seized, prevented his being beset in 
 his palace. 
 
 Washington was at Mount Vernon, preparing to set out for Phila- 
 delphia as a delegate to the second Congress, when he received 
 tidings of the affair at Lexington, Bryan Fairfax and Major 
 Horatio Gates were his guests at the time. They all regarded the 
 event as decisive in its consequences ; but they regarded it with 
 different feelings. The worthy and gentle-spirited Fairfax deplored 
 it deeply. He foresaw that it must break up all his pleasant rela- 
 tions in life ; arraying his dearest friends against the government to 
 
i6o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 which, notwithstanding the errors of its pohcy, he was loyally- 
 attached and resolved to adhere. Gates, on the contrary, viewed 
 it with the eye of a soldier and a place-hunter — hitherto disap- 
 pointed in both capacities. This event promised to open a new 
 avenue to importance and command, and he determined to enter 
 upon it. 
 
 Washington's feelings were of a mingled nature. They may be 
 gathered from a letter to his friend and neighbor, George William 
 Fairfax, then in England, in which he lays the blame of this 
 " deplorable affair" on the ministry and their military agents; and 
 concludes with the following words, in which the yearnings of the 
 patriot give affecting solemnity to the implied resolve of the sol- 
 dier: " Unhappy it is to reflect that a brother's sword has been 
 sheathed in a brother's breast ; and that the once happy and peace- 
 ful plains of America are to be either drenched with blood or 
 inhabited by slaves. Sad alternative ! But can a virtuous man 
 hesitate iti his choice ? " 
 
 At the eastward, the march of the Revolution went on with 
 accelerated speed. Thirty thousand men had been deemed neces- 
 sary for the defence of the country. The provincial Congress of 
 Massachusetts resolved to raise thirteen thousand six hundred, as 
 its quota. Circular letters, also, were issued by the committee of 
 safety, urging the towns to enlist troops with all speed, and calling 
 for military aid from the other New England provinces. 
 
 Their appeals were promptly answered. Bodies of militia and 
 parties of volunteers from New Hampshire, Rhode Island and Con- 
 necticut, hastened to join the minute men of Massachusetts in 
 forming a camp in the neighborhood of Boston. With the troops 
 of Connecticut came Israel Putnam ; having recently raised a 
 regiment in that province, and received from its Assembly the com- 
 mission of brigadier-general. Some of his old comrades in French 
 and Indian warfare had hastened to join his standard. Such were 
 two of his captains, Durkee and Knowlton. The latter, who was 
 his especial favorite, had fought by his side when a mere boy. 
 
 The command of the camp was given to General ArtemasWard, 
 already mentioned. He was a native of Shrewsbury, in Massa- 
 chusetts, and a veteran of the seven years* war — having served as 
 lieutenant-colonel under Abercrombie. He had, likewise, been a 
 member of the legislative bodies, and had recently been made, by 
 the provincial Congress of Massachusetts, commander-in-chief of 
 its forces. 
 
 As affairs were now drawing to a crisis, and war was considered 
 inevitable, some bold spirits in Connecticut conceived a project for 
 the outset. This was the surprisal of the old forts of Ticonderoga 
 and Crown Point, already famous in the French war. Their situ- 
 ation on Lake Champlain gave them the command of the main 
 route to Canada ; so that the possession of them would be all- 
 important in case of hostilities. They were feebly garrisoned and 
 negligently guarded, and abundantly furnished with artillery and 
 military stores, so much needed by the patriot army. 
 
 This scheme was set on foot in the purlieus, as it were, of the 
 
1 775-] SCHEME TO SURPRISE TICONDEROGA. i6i 
 
 provincial Legislature of Connecticut, then in session. It was not 
 openly sanctioned by that body, but secretly favored, and money 
 lent from the treasury to those engaged in it. A committee was 
 appointed, also, to accompany them to the frontier, aid them in 
 raising troops, and exercise over them a degree of superintend- 
 ence and control. 
 
 Sixteen men were thus enlisted in Connecticut, a greater number 
 in Massachusetts, but the greatest accession of force was from what 
 was called the " New Hampshire Grants." This was a region hav- 
 ing the Connecticut River on one side, and Lake Champlain and 
 the Hudson River on the other — being, in fact, the country form- 
 ing the present State of Vermont. It had long been a disputed 
 territory, claimed by New York and New Hampshire. George II. 
 had decided in favor of New York ; but the Governor of New 
 Hampshire had made grants of between one and two hundred 
 townships in it, whence it had acquired the name of the New 
 Hampshire Grants. The settlers on those grants resisted the 
 attempts of New York to eject them, and formed themselves into 
 an association, called " The Green Mountain Boys." Resolute, 
 strong-handed fellows they were, with Ethan Allen at their head, a 
 native of Connecticut, but brought up among the Green Moun- 
 tains. He and his lieutenants, Seth Warner and Remember Baker, 
 were outlawed by the Legislature of New York, and rewards 
 offered for their apprehension. They and their associates armed 
 themselves, set New York at defiance, and swore they would be 
 the death of any one who should attempt their arrest. 
 
 Thus Ethan Allen was becoming a kind of Robin Hood among 
 the mountains, when the present crisis changed the relative posi- 
 tion of things as if by magic. Boundary feuds were forgotten 
 amid the great questions of colonial rights. Ethan Allen at once 
 stepped forward, a patriot, and volunteered with his Green Moun- 
 tain Boys to serve in the popular cause. He was well fitted for the 
 enterprise in question, by his experience as a frontier champion, 
 his robustness of mind and body, and his fearless spirit. He had 
 a kind of rough eloquence, also, that was very effective with his 
 followers. "His style," says one, who knew him p)ersonally, 
 "was a singular compound of local barbaiisms, scriptural phrases, 
 and oriental wildness; and though unclassic, and sometimes 
 ungrammatical, was highly animated and forcible." Washington, 
 in one of his letters, says there was " an original something in him 
 which commanded admiration." 
 
 Thus reinforced, the party, now two hundred and seventy strong, 
 pushed forward to Castleton, a place within a few miles of the head 
 of Lake Champlain. Here a council of war was held on the 2d 
 of May. Ethan Allen was placed at the head of the expedition, 
 with James Easton and Seth Warner as second and third in com- 
 mand. Detachments were sent off to Skenesborough (now White- 
 hall), and another place on the lake, with orders to seize all the 
 boats they could find and bring them to Shoreham, opposite 
 Ticonderoga, whither Allen prepared to proceed with the main 
 body. 
 6 
 
i62 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 At this juncture, another adventurous spirit arrived at Castleton. 
 This was Benedict Arnold, since so sadly renowned. He, too, had 
 conceived the project of surprising Ticonderoga and Crow n Point ; 
 or, perhaps, had caught the idea from its first agitators in Connect- 
 icut — in the militia of which province he held a captain's commis- 
 sion. He had proposed the scheme to the Massachusetts commit- 
 tee of safety. It had met with their approbation. They had given 
 him a colonel's commission, authorized him to raise a force in 
 Western Massachusetts, not exceeding four hundred men, and fur- 
 nished him with money and means. Arnold had enlisted but a 
 few officers and men when he heard of the expedition from Con- 
 necticut being on the march. He instantly hurried on with one 
 attendant to overtake it, leaving his few recruits to follow, as best 
 they could : in this way he reached Castleton just after the council 
 of war. 
 
 Producing the colonel's commission received from the Massa- 
 chusetts committee of safety, he now aspired to the supreme com- 
 mand. His claims were disregarded by the Green Mountain Boys; 
 they would follow no leader but Ethan Allen. As they formed the 
 majority of the party, Arnold was fain to acquiesce, and serve as a 
 volunteer, with the rank, but not the command, of colonel. 
 
 The party arrived at Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, on the 
 night of the 9th of May. The detachment sent in quest of boats 
 had failed to arrive. There were a few boats at hand, Avith which 
 the transportation was commenced. It was slow work ; the night 
 wore away ; day was about to break, and but eighty-three men, 
 with Allen and Arnold, had crossed. Should they wait for the 
 residue, day would dawn, the garrison wake, and their enterprise 
 might fail. Allen drew up his men, addressed them in his own 
 emphatic style, and announced his intention to make a dash at the 
 fort, without waiting for more force. " It is a desperate attempt," 
 said he, " and I ask no man to go against his will. I will take the 
 lead, and be the first to advance. You that are willing to follow, 
 poise your firelocks." Not a firelock but was poised. They 
 mounted the hill briskly, but in silence, guided by a boy from the 
 neighborhood. The day dawned as Allen arrived at a sally-port. 
 A sentry pulled trigger on him, but his piece missed fire. He 
 retreated through a covered way. Allen and his men followed. 
 Another sentry thrust at Easton with his bayonet, but was struck 
 down by Allen, and begged for quarter. It was granted on condi- 
 tion of his leading the way instantly to the quarters of the com- 
 mandant, Captain Delaplace, who Avas yet in bed. Being arrived 
 there, Allen thundered at the door, and demanded a surrender of 
 the fort. By this time his followers had formed into two lines on 
 the parade-ground, and given three hearty cheers. The command- 
 ant appeared at his door half-dressed, "the frightened face of his 
 pretty wife peering over his shoulder." He gazed at Allen in 
 bewildered astonishments " By whose authority do you act?" 
 exclaimed he. •• In the name of the great Jehovah, and the Con- 
 tinental Congress! " replied Allen, with a flourish of his sword, and 
 an oath which we do not care to subjoin. There was no disputing 
 6 
 
1775-] BENEDICT ARNOLD. 163 
 
 the point. The garrison, like the commander, had been startled 
 from sleep, and made prisoners as they rushed forth in their con- 
 fusion. A surrender accordingly took place. The captain, and 
 forty-eight men, which composed his garrison, were sent prisoners 
 to Hartford, in Connecticut- A great supply of military and naval 
 stores, so important in the present crisis, was found in the fortress. 
 
 Colonel Seth Warner, who had brought over the residue of the 
 party from Shoreham, was now sent with a detachment against 
 Crown Point, which surrendered on the 12th of May without fir- 
 ii^g 3. gun ; the whole garrison being a sergeant and twelve men. 
 Here were taken upward of a hundred cannon. 
 
 Arnold now insisted vehemently on his right to command Ti- 
 conderoga ; being, as he said, the only officer invested with legal 
 authority. His claims had again to yield to the superior popularity 
 of Ethan Allen, to whom the Connecticut committee, which had 
 accompanied the enterprise, gave an instrument in writing, invest- 
 ing him with the command of the fortress, and its dependencies, 
 until he should receive the orders of the Connecticut Assembly, or 
 the Continental Congress. Arnold, while forced to acquiesce, sent 
 a protest, and a statement of his grievances to the Massachusetts 
 Legislature. In the mean time, his chagrin was appeased by a 
 new object. The detachment originally sent to seize upon boats 
 at Skenesborough, arrived with a schooner, and several bateaux. 
 It was immediately concerted between Allen and Arnold to cruise 
 in them down the lake, and surprise St. John's, on the Sorel River, 
 the frontier post of Canada. The schooner was accordingly armed 
 with cannon from the fort. Arnold, who had been a seaman in his 
 youth, took the command of her, while Allen and his Green Moun- 
 tain Boys embarked in the bateaux. Arnold outsailed the other 
 craft, and arriving at St. John's surprised and made prisoners of a 
 sergeant and twelve men ; captured a king's sloop of seventy tons, 
 with two brass six-pounders and seven men ; took four bateaux, 
 destroyed several others, and then, learning that troops were on 
 the way from Montreal and Chamblee, spread all his sails to a favoring 
 breeze, and swept up the lake with his prizes and prisoners, and 
 some valuable stores, which he had secured. He had not sailed 
 far when he met Ethan Allen and the bateaux. Salutes were 
 exchanged; cannon on one side, musketry on the other. Allen 
 boarded the sloop ; learned from Arnold the particulars of his 
 success, and determined to push on, take possession of St. John's, 
 and garrison it with one hundred of his Green Mountain Boys. 
 He was foiled in the attempt by the superior force which arrived ; 
 so he returned to his station at Ticonderoga. 
 
 Thus a partisan band, unpracticed in the art of war, had, by a 
 series of daring exploits and almost without the loss of a man, won 
 for the patriots the command of Lake George and Champlain, and 
 thrown open the great highway to Canada. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WASHINGTON APPOINTED COMMANDER IN CHIEF. 
 
 The second General Congress assembled at Philadelphia on the 
 loth of May. Peyton Randolph was again elected as president ; 
 but being obliged to return, and occupy his place as speaker of the 
 Virginia Assembly, John Hancock, of Massachusetts, was elevated 
 to the chair. 
 
 A lingering feeling of attachment to the mother country, strug- 
 gling with the growing spirit of self-government, was manifested in 
 the proceedings of this remarkable body. Many of those most 
 active in vindicating colonial rights, and Washington among the 
 number, still indulged the hope of an eventual reconciliation, while 
 few entertained, or, at least, avowed the idea of complete independ- 
 ence. 
 
 A second "humble and dutiful " petition to the king was moved, 
 but met with strong opposition. John Adams condemned it as an 
 imbecile measure, calculated to embarrass the proceedings of 
 Congress. He was for prompt and vigorous action. Other 
 members concurred with him. Indeed, the measure itself seemed 
 but a mere form, intended to reconcile the half-scrupulous ; for 
 subsequently, Avhen it was carried. Congress, in face of it, went on 
 to assume and exercise the powers of a sovereign authority. A 
 federal union was formed, leaving to each colony the right of 
 regulating its internal affairs according to its own individual con- 
 stitution, but vesting in Congress the power of making peace or 
 war ; of entering into treaties and alliances ; of regulating general 
 commerce ; in a word, of legislating on all such matters as 
 regarded the security and welfare of the whole community. 
 
 The executive power was to be vested in a council of twelve, 
 chosen by Congress from among its own members, and to hold ofifice 
 for a limited time. Such colonies as had not sent delegates to Con- 
 gress, might yet become members of the confederacy by agreeing to 
 its conditions. Georgia, which had hitherto hesitated, soon joined 
 the league, which thus extended from Nova Scotia to Florida. 
 
 Congress ordered the enlistment of troops, the construction of 
 forts in \-arious parts of the colonies, the provision of arms, 
 ammunition, and military stores ; while to defray the expense of 
 these, and other measures, avowedly of self-defence, they author- 
 ized the emission of notes to the amount of three millions of dollars, 
 bearing the inscription of "The United Colonies;" the faith of the 
 confederacy being pledged for their redemption. The public 
 sense of Washington's military talents and experience was evinced 
 in his being chairman of all the committees appointed for military 
 affairs. Most of the rules and regulations for the army, and the 
 measures of defence, were devised by him. 
 
I775-] WASHINGTON COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 165 
 
 The situation of the New England army, actually besieging 
 Boston, became an early and absorbing consideration. It was 
 without munitions of war, without arms, clothing or pay ; in fact, 
 without legislative countenance or encouragement. Unless sanc- 
 tioned and assisted by Congress, there was danger of its dissolu- 
 tion. The disposition to uphold the army was general ; but the 
 difficult question was, who should be commander-in-chief? Adams, 
 in his diary, gives us glimpses of the conflict of opinions and interests 
 within doors. There was a southern party, he said, which could 
 not brook the idea of a New England army, commanded by a New 
 England general. "Whether this jealousy was sincere, " writes 
 he, "or whether it was mere pride, and a haughty ambition of 
 furnishing a southern general to command the northern army, I can- 
 not say ; but the intention was very visible to me, that Colonel 
 Washington was their object ; and so many of our stanchest men 
 were in the plan, that we could carry nothing without conceding 
 to it." 
 
 General Charles Lee was at that time in Philadelphia. His for- 
 mer visit had made him well acquainted with the leading members 
 of Congress. The active interest he had manifested in the cause 
 was well known, and the public had an almost extravagant idea of 
 his military qualifications. He was of foreign birth, however, and 
 it was deemed improper to confide the supreme command to any 
 but a native-born American. The opinion evidently inclined in 
 favor of Washington ; yet it was promoted by no clique of parti- 
 sans or admirers. More than one of the Virginia delegates, says 
 Adams, were cool on the subject of this appointment ; and partic- 
 ularly Mr. Pendleton was clear and full against it. It is scarcely 
 necessary to add, that Washington in this, as in every other situation 
 in life, made no step in advance to clutch the impending honor. 
 Adams, in his diary, claims the credit of bringing the members of 
 Congress to a decision. Rising in his place, one day, and stating 
 briefly, but earnestly, the exigencies of the case, he moved that 
 Congress should adopt the army at Cambridge, and appoint a gen- 
 eral. Though this was not the time to nominate the person, "yet," 
 adds he, " as I had reason to beheve this was a point of some diffi- 
 culty, I had no hesitation to declare, that I had but one gentleman 
 in my mind for that important command, and that was a gentle- 
 man from Virginia, who was among us and very well known to all 
 of us ; a gentleman, whose skill and experience as an officer, 
 whose independent fortune, great talents, and excellent universal 
 character would command the approbation of all America, and 
 unite the cordial exertions of all the colonies better than any other 
 person in the Union. Mr. Washington, who happened to sit near 
 the door, as soon as he heard me allude to him, from his usual 
 modesty, darted into the library-room. When the subject came 
 under debate, several delegates opposed the appointment of Wash- 
 inton ; not from personal objections, but because the army were all 
 from New England, and had a general of their own, General Arte- 
 mus Ward, with whom they appeared well satisfied ; and under 
 ■whose command they had proved themselves able to imprison the 
 
i66 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 British army in Boston ; which was all that was to be expected or 
 desired." 
 
 The subject was postponed to a future day. In the interim, 
 pains were taken out of doors to obtain a unanimity, and the voices 
 were in general so clearly in favor of Washington, that the dis- 
 sentient members were persuaded to withdraw their opposition. 
 On the 15th of June, the army was regularly adopted by Con- 
 gress, and the pay of the commander-in-chief fixed at five hun- 
 dred dollars a month. Many still clung to the idea, that in all 
 these proceedings they were merely opposing the measures of the 
 ministry, and not the authority of the crown, and thus the army 
 before Boston was designated as the Continental Army, in contra- 
 distinction to that under General Gage, which was called the Min- 
 isterial Army. 
 
 In this stage of the business Mr. Johnson, of Maryland, rose, 
 and nominated Washington for the station of commander-in-chief. 
 The election was by ballot, and was unanimous. It was form- 
 ally announced to him by the president, on the following day, 
 when he had taken his seat in Congress. Rising in his place, he 
 briefly expressed his high and grateful sense of the honor conferred 
 on him, and his sincere devotion to the cause. " But," added he, 
 "lest some unlucky event should happen unfavorable to my repu- 
 tation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentleman in the 
 room, that 1 this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not 
 think myself equal to the command I am honored with. As to 
 pay, I beg leave to assure the Congress that, as no pecuniary con- 
 sideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employ- 
 ment, at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not 
 wish to make any profit of it. I will keep an exact account of 
 my expenses. Those, I doubt not, they will discharge, and that is 
 all I desire." 
 
 '• There is something charming to me in the conduct of Wash- 
 ington," writes Adams to a friend ; " a gentleman of one of the 
 first fortunes upon the continent, leaving his delicious retirement, 
 his family and his friends, sacrificing his ease, and hazarding all 
 in the cause of his country. His views are noble and disinterested." 
 
 Four major-generals were to be appointed. General Ward was 
 elected the second in command, and Lee the third. The other 
 two major-generals were Philip Schuyler, of New York, and Israel 
 Putnam, of Connecticut. Eight brigadier-generals were likewise 
 appointed ; Seth Pomeroy, Richard Montgomery, David Wooster, 
 Wilham Heath, Joseph Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan, and 
 Nathaniel Greene. At Washington's express request, his old 
 friend. Major Horatio Gates, then absent at his estate in Virginia, 
 was appointed adjutant-general, with the rank of brigadier. 
 Adams, according to his own account, was extremely loth to admit 
 either Lee or Gates into the American service, although he consid- 
 ered them officers of great experience and confessed abilities. He 
 apprehended difficulties, he said, from the "natural prejudices and 
 virtuous attachment of our countrymen to their own officers." 
 *'But," added he, "considering the earnest desire of General 
 
1775] THE BESIEGING ARMY. 167 
 
 Washington to have the assistance of those officers, the extreme 
 attachment of many of our best friends in the southern colonies to 
 them, the reputation they would give to our arms in Europe, and 
 especially with the ministerial generals and army in Boston, as 
 well as the real American merit of both, I could not withhold my 
 vote from either." 
 
 In this momentous change in his condition, which suddenly al- 
 tered all his course of life, and called him immediately to the 
 camp, Washington's thoughts recurred to Mount Vernon, and its 
 rural delights, so dear to his heart, whence he was to be again ex- 
 iled. His chief concern, however, was on account of the distress 
 it might cause to his wife. His letter to her on the subject is writ- 
 ten in a tone of manly tenderness. "You may believe me," writes 
 he, "when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that so far 
 from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my 
 power to avoid it, not only from my unwilhngness to part with you 
 and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too 
 great for my capacity ; and I should enjoy more real happiness in 
 one month with you at home than I have the most distant prospect 
 of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But 
 as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this ser- 
 vice, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer 
 some good purpose. * * "I shall rely confidently on that Prov- 
 idence 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 danger of the campaign ; my 
 unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel 
 from being left alone." 
 
 On the 20th of June, he received his commission from the presi- 
 dent of Congress. The following day was fixed upon for his de- 
 parture for the army. He reviewed previously, at the request of 
 their officers, several militia companies of horse and foot. Every 
 one was anxious to see the new commander, and rarely has the 
 public beau ideal of a commander been so fully answered. He 
 was now in the vigor of his days, forty-three years of age, stately 
 in person, noble in his demeanor, calm and dignified in his deport- 
 ment; as he sat his horse, with manly grace, his miUtary presence 
 delighted every eye, and wherever he went the air rang with ac- 
 clamations. 
 
 While Congress had been deliberating on the adoption of the 
 army, and the nomination of a commander-in-chief, events had 
 been thickening and drawing to a crisis in the excited region about 
 Boston. The provincial troops which blockaded the town prevent- 
 ed supplies by land, the neighboring country refused to furnish 
 them by water ; fresh provisions and vegetables were no longer to 
 be procured, and Boston began to experience the privations of a 
 beseiged city. On the 25th of May, arrived ships of war and 
 transports from England, bringing large reinforcements, under 
 Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Henry Clinton, commanders of 
 high reputation. 
 
 Inspirited by these reinforcements General Gage determined to 
 
1 68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 take the field. Previously, however, in conformity to instructions 
 from Lord Dartmouth, the head of the war department, he issued a 
 proclamation (l2th June), putting the province under martial law, 
 threatening to treat as rebels and traitors all malcontents who 
 should continue under arms, together with their aiders and abettors ; 
 but offering pardon to all who should lay down their arms and re- 
 turn to their allegiance. From this proffered amnesty, however, 
 John Hancock and Samuel Adams were especially excepted ; their 
 offences being pronounced "too flagitious not to meet with condign 
 punishment." 
 
 The beseiging force, in the mean time, was daily augmented by 
 recruits and volunteers, and now amounted to about fifteen thou- 
 sand men distributed at various points. Its character and organ- 
 ization were peculiar. It could not be called a national army, for, 
 as yet, there was no nation to own it ; it was not under the author- 
 ity of the Continental Congress, the act of that body recognizing it 
 not having as yet been passed, and the authority of that body itself 
 not having been acknowledged. It was, in fact, a fortuitous assem- 
 blage of four distinct bodies of troops, belonging to different prov- 
 inces, and each having a leader of its own election. About ten 
 thousand belonged to Massachusetts, and were under the command 
 of General Artemas Ward, whose head-quarters were at Cam- 
 bridge. Another body of troops, under Colonel John Stark, al- 
 ready mentioned, came from New Hampshire. Rhode Island fur- 
 nished a third, under the command of General Nathaniel Greene. 
 A fourth was from Connecticut, under the veteran Putnam. These 
 bodies of troops, being from different colonies, were independent of 
 each other, and had their several commanders. Those from New 
 Hampshire were instructed to obey General Ward as commander- 
 in-cheif ; with the rest, it was a voluntary act, rendered in consider- 
 ation of his being military chief of Massachusetts, the province 
 which, as allies, they came to defend. The troops knew but little 
 of military discipline. Almost all were familiar with the use of 
 fire-arms in hunting and fowhng ; many had served in frontier 
 campaigns against the French, and in "bush-fighting" with the 
 Indians ; but none were acquainted with regular service or the dis- 
 cipline of European armies. There was a regiment of artillery, 
 partly organized by Colonel Gridley, a skillful engineer, and fur- 
 nished with nine field-pieces ; but the greater part of the troops 
 were without military dress or accoutrements ; most of them were 
 hasty levies of yeomanry, some of whom had seized their rifles and 
 fowling-pieces, and turned out in their working clothes and home- 
 spun country garbs. It was an army of volunteers, subordinate 
 through incHnation and respect to officers of their own choice, and 
 depending for sustenance on supplies sent from their several towns. 
 
 Such was the army spread over an extent of ten or twelve miles, 
 and keeping watch upon the town of Boston, containing at that 
 time a population of seventeen thousand souls, and garrisoned 
 with more than ten thousand British troops, discipHned and exper- 
 ienced in the wars of Europe. In the disposition of these forces, 
 General Ward had stationed himself at Cambridge, with the main 
 
1 7 75- J PROJECT TO SEIZE THE HEIGHTS. 169 
 
 body of about nine thousand men and four companies of artillery. 
 Lieutenant-General Thomas, second in command, was posted, 
 with five thousand Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island 
 troops, and three or four companies of artillery, at Roxbury and 
 Dorchester, forming the right wing of the army ; while the left, 
 composed in a great measure of New Hampshire troops, stretched 
 through Medford to the hills of Chelsea. It was a great annoy- 
 ance to the British officers and soldiers, to be thus hemmed in by 
 what they termed a rustic rout with calico frocks and fowling- 
 pieces. The same scornful and taunting spirit prevailed among 
 them, that the cavaliers of yore indulged toward the Covenanters. 
 Considering episcopacy as the only loyal and royal faith, they in- 
 sulted and desecrated the '-'sectarian" places of worship. One 
 was turned into a riding school for the cavalry, and the fire in the 
 stove was kindled with books from the library of its pastor. The 
 Provincials retaliated by turning the Episcopal church at Cam- 
 bridge into a barrack, and melting down its organ-pipes into bullets. 
 Both parties panted for action ; the British through impatience of 
 their humiliating position, and an eagerness to chastise what they 
 considered the presumption of their besiegers ; the Provincials 
 through enthusiasm in their cause, a thirst for enterprise and ex- 
 ploit, and, it must be added, an unconsciousness of their own mil- 
 itary deficiencies. 
 
 We have already mentioned the peninsula of Charlestown (called 
 from a village of the same name), which lies opposite to the north 
 side of Boston. The heights, which swell up in rear of the 
 village, overlook the town and shipping. The project was con- 
 ceived in the beseiging camp to seize and occupy those heights. 
 A council of war was held upon the subject. The arguments in 
 favor of the attempt were, that the army was anxious to be em- 
 ployed ; that the country was dissatisfied with its inactivity, and that 
 the enemy might thus be drawn out to ground where they might 
 be fought to advantage. General Putnam was one of the most 
 strenuous in favor of the measure. Some of the more wary and 
 judicious, among whom were General Ward and Dr. W^arren, 
 doubted the expediency of intrenching themselves on those 
 heights, and the possibihty of maintaining so exposed a post, 
 scantily furnished, as they were, with ordnance and ammunition. 
 Besides, it might bring on a general engagement, which it was not 
 safe to risk. Putnam made light of the danger. He was confi- 
 dent of the bravery of the militia if intrenched, having seen it 
 tried in the old French War. "The Americans," said he, "are 
 never afraid of their heads ; they only think of their legs ; shelter 
 them, and they'll fight forever." The daring councils of such men 
 are always captivating to the inexperienced ; but in the present 
 instance, they were sanctioned by one whose opinion in such mat- 
 ters, and in this vicinity, possessed pecuhar weight. This was Col- 
 onel William Prescott, of Pepperell, who commanded a regiment 
 of minute men. He, too, had seen service in the French war, and 
 acquired reputation as a lieutenant of infantry at the capture of 
 Cape Breton. This was sufficient to constitute him an oracle in the 
 
lyo LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 present instance. He was now about fifty years of age, tall and 
 commanding in his appearance, and retaining the port of a soldier. 
 What was more, he had a military garb ; being equipped with a 
 three-cornered hat, a top wig, and a single-breasted blue coat, with 
 facings and lapped up at the skirts. All this served to give him 
 consequence among the rustic militia officers with whom he was in 
 council. His opinion, probably, settled the question ; and it was 
 determined to seize on and fortify Bunker's Hill and Dorchester 
 Heights, Secret intelligence hurried forward the project. General 
 Gage, it was said, intended to take possession of Dorchester 
 Heights on the night of the i8th of June. These heights lay on 
 the opposite side of Boston, and the committee were ignorant of 
 their localities. Those on Charlestown Neck, being near at hand, 
 had sometime before been reconnoitered by Colonel Richard 
 Gridley, and other of the engineers. It was determined to seize 
 and fortify these heights on the night of Friday, the i6th of June, 
 in anticipation of the movement of General Gage. Troops were 
 draughted for the purpose from the Massachusetts regiments of 
 Colonels Prescott, Frye and Bridges. There was also a fatigue 
 party of about two hundred men from Putnam's Connecticut 
 troops, led by his favorite officer, Captain Knowlton ; together 
 with a company of forty-nine artillery men, with two field-pieces, 
 commanded by Captain Samuel Gridley. A little before sunset the 
 troops, about twelve hundred in all, assembled on the common, in 
 front of General Ward's quarters. They came provided with 
 packs, blankets and provisions for four-and-twenty hours, but ignor- 
 ant of the object ot the expedition. Being all paraded, prayers 
 were offered up by the reverend President Langdon, of Harvard 
 College ; after which they all set forward on their silent march. 
 Colonel Prescott, from his experience in military matters, and his 
 being an officer in the Massachusetts line, had been chosen by 
 General Ward to conduct the enterprise. His written orders were 
 to fortify Bunker's Hill, and defend the works until he should be- 
 relieved. Colonel Richard Gridley, the chief engineer, who had 
 likewise served in the French war, was to accompany him and 
 plan the fortifications. 
 
 The detachment left Cambridge about 9 o'clock, Colonel Pres- 
 cott taking the lead, preceded by two sergeants with dark lanterns. 
 At Charlestown Neck they were joined by Major Brooks, of 
 Bridges' regiment, and General Putnam ; and here were the 
 wagons laden with intrenching tools, which first gave the men an 
 indication of the nature of the enterprise. Charlestown Neck is a 
 narrow isthmus, connecting the peninsula with the main land ; 
 having the Mystic River, about half a mile wide, on the north, and 
 a large embayment of Charles River on the south or right side. 
 
 It was now necessary to proceed with the utmost caution, for 
 they were coming on ground over which the British kept jealous 
 watch. They had erected a battery at Boston on Copp's Hill, im- 
 mediately opposite to Charlestown. Five of their vessels of war 
 were stationed so as to bear upon the peninsula from different direc- 
 tions, and the guns of one of them swept the isthmus or narrow 
 
1775-] OPERA TIONS A T NIGHT, 171 
 
 neck just mentioned. Across this isthmus, Colonel Prcscott con- 
 ducted the detachment undiscovered, and up the ascent of Bunker's 
 Hill. This commences at the neck, and slopes up for about three 
 hundred yards to its summit, which is about one hundred and twelve 
 feet high. It then declines toward the south, and is connected by 
 a ridge with Breed's Hill, about sixty or seventy feet high. The 
 crests of the two hills are about seven hundred yards apart. 
 
 On attaining the heights, a question rose which of the two they 
 should proceed to fortify. Bunker's Hill was specified in the writ- 
 ten orders given to Colonel Prescott by General Ward, but Breed's 
 Hill was much nearer to Boston, and had a better command of the 
 town and shipping. Bunker's Hill, also, being on the upper and 
 narrower part of the peninsula, was itself commanded by the same 
 ship w^hich raked the Neck. Putnam was clear for commencing 
 at Breed's Hill and making the principal work there, while a minor 
 work might be thrown up at Bunker's Hill, as a protection in the 
 rear, and a rallying point, in case of being driven out of the main 
 work. Others concurred with this opinion, yet there was a hesita- 
 tion in deviating from the letter of their orders. At length Colonel 
 Gridley became impatient : the night was waning ; delay might 
 prostrate the whole enterprise. Breed's Hill was then determined 
 on. Gridley marked out the lines for the fortifications ; the men 
 stacked their guns ; threw off their packs ; seized their trenching 
 tools, and set to work with great spirit; but so much time had been 
 wasted in discussion, that it was midnight before they struck the 
 first spade into the ground. 
 
 Prescott, who felt the responsibility of his charge, almost 
 despaired of carrying on these operations undiscovered. A party 
 was sent out by him silently to patrol the shore at the foot of the 
 heights, and watch for any movement of the enemy. Not willing 
 to trust entirely to the vigilance of others, he twice went down dur- 
 ing the night to the water's edge; reconnoitering everything scrup- 
 ulously, and noting every sight and sound. It was a warm, still, 
 summer's night ; the stars shone brightly, but everything was 
 quiet. Boston was buried in sleep. The sentry's cry of "All's 
 well " could be heard distinctly from its shores, together with the 
 drowsy calling of the watch on board of the ships of war, and 
 then all would relapse into silence. Satisfied that the enemy 
 were perfectly unconscious of what was going on upon the hill, he 
 returned to the works, and a little before daybreak called in the 
 patrolUng party. So spiritedly, though silently, had the labor been 
 carried on, that by morning a strong redoubt was thrown up as a 
 main work, flanked on the left by a breast-work, partly cannon- 
 proof, extending down the crest of Breed's Hill to a piece of marshy 
 ground called the Slough. To support the right of the redoubt, 
 some troops were thrown into the village of Charlestown, at the 
 southern foot of the hill. The great object of Prescott' s solicitude 
 was now attained, a sufficient bulwark to screen his men before 
 they should be discovered ; for he doubted the possibility of keep- 
 ing raw recruits to their post, if openly exposed to the fire of artil- 
 lery, and the attack of disciplined troops. 
 
172 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 At dawn of day, the Americans at work were espied by the sail- 
 ors on board of the ships of war, and the alaiTn was given. The 
 captain of the Lively, the nearest ship, without waiting for orders, 
 put a spring upon her cable, and bringing her guns to bear, opened 
 a fire upon the hill. The other ships and a floating battery followed 
 his example. Their shot did no mischief to the works, but one 
 man, among a number who had incautiously ventured outside, was 
 killed. A subaltern reported his death to Colonel Prescott, and 
 asked what was to be done. " Bury him," was the reply. The 
 chaplain gathered some of his military flock around him, and was 
 proceeding to perform suitable obsequies over the '• first martyr," 
 but Prescott ordered that the men should disperse to their work, 
 and the deceased be buried immediately. 
 
 To inspire confidence by example, Prescott now mounted the 
 parapet, and walked leisurely about, inspecting the works, giving 
 directions, and talking cheerfully with the men. The cannonading 
 roused the town of Boston. General Gage could scarcely believe 
 his eyes when he beheld on the opposite hill a fortification full of 
 men, which had sprung up in the course of the night. As he 
 reconnoitered it through a glass from Copp's Hill, the tall figure of 
 Prescott, in military garb, walking the parapet, caught his eye. 
 •' Who is that officer who appears in command ? " asked he. The 
 question was answered by Counselor Willard, Prescott's brother-in- 
 law, who was at hand, and recognized his relative. "Will he 
 fight?" demanded Gage, quickly. "Yes, sir! he is an old 
 soldier, and will fight to the last drop of blood ; but I cannot 
 answer for his men." 
 
 "The works must be carried!" exclaimed Gage. He called a 
 council of war. The Americans might intend to cannonade Boston 
 from this new fortification ; it was unanimously resolved to dislodge 
 them. How was this to be done ? A majority of the council, 
 including Clinton and Grant, advised that a force should be landed 
 on Charlcstown Neck, under the protection of their batteries, so as 
 to attack the Americans in rear, and cut off their retreat. General 
 Gage objected that it would place his troops between two armies ; 
 one at Cambridge, superior in numbers, the other on the heights, 
 strongly fortified. He was for landing in front of the works, and 
 pushing directly up the hill ; a plan adopted through a confidence 
 that raw militia would never stand their ground against the assault 
 of veteran troops ; another instance of undervaluing the American 
 spirit, which was to cost the enemy a lamentable loss of hfe. 
 
\ 
 
 CHAPTER IX.! 
 
 BATTLE OF BUNKER's HILL— SIEGE OF BOSTON. 
 
 The sound of drum and trumpet, the clatter of hoofs, the rattline 
 of gun-carnages, and all the other military din and bustle in thf 
 streets of Boston, soon apprised the Americans on their rudely for- 
 tified height of an impending attack. They were ill fitted to with- 
 stand It, being jaded by the night's labor, and want of sleep; hun- 
 gry and thirsty having brought but scanty supplies, and oppressed 
 r^ner^.! W H^ '^\ .'''^'^^'- P^-^scott Sent repeated messages to 
 General Ward, asking reinforcements and provisions. Putnam 
 
 W?rH hl>^ h'^'^^m ^ T ^T"' "'^'"S ^^^ exigencies of the case. 
 Ward hesitated. He feared to weaken his main bodv at Cam- 
 bridge, as his mihtary stores were deposited there, and it miVht 
 have to sustain the principal attack. At length, having taken 
 advice of the council of safety, he issued orders for Colonels Stark 
 and Read, then at Med ford, to march to the relief of Prescott with 
 their New Hampshire regiments. The orders reached Medford 
 about II o clock. Ammunition was distributed in all haste ; two 
 flints a g.ll of powder, and fifteen balls to each man. The balls 
 had to be suited to the different calibers of the guns ; the powder 
 to be earned in powder-horns, or loose in the pocket, for there 
 were no cartndges prepared. It was the rude turn-out of veoman 
 soldiery destitute of regular accoutemients. In the mean wMle 
 he Amencans on Breed's Hill were sustaining the fie f?om he 
 ships, and from the battery on Copp's Hill, which opened^pon 
 them about ten o'clock They returned an occasional shot from 
 one corner of the redoubt, without much hami to the enemy and 
 continued strengthemng their position until ii o'clock, when thev 
 ceased to work, piled their intrenching tools in the rear, and looked 
 and su ""'hes ^' impatiently for the anticipated reinforcements 
 
 About noon the Americans descried twenty-eight barges cross- 
 ing from Boston in parallel lines. They contained a large detach- 
 ment of grenadiers, rangers, and light infantry, admirably equipped 
 and comn-ianded by Major-General Howe. They made a splendid 
 and formidable appearance with their scariet unifomis. and the sun 
 hashing upon muskets and bayonets, and brass field-pieces A 
 Heavy fire from the ships and batteries covered their advance but 
 no attempt was make to oppose them, and they landed about 
 I o clock at Moulton s Point, a little to the north of Breed's Hill 
 were General Howe made a pause. On reconnoitering the works 
 from this point, the Americans appeared to be much more strongly 
 posted, than he had imagined. He descried troops also hastening 
 to their assistance. These were the New Hampshire troops, led on 
 by btark. Howe immediately sent over to General Gage for more 
 
174 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 forces, and a supply of cannon-balls ; those brought by him being 
 found, through some egregious oversight, too large for the ord- 
 nance. While awaiting their arrival, refreshments were served out 
 to the troops, with "grog," by the bucketful; and tantalizing it 
 was, to the hungry and thirsty provincials, to look down from their 
 ramparts of earth, and see their invaders seated in groups upon the 
 grass eating and drinking, and preparing themselves by a hearty 
 meal for the coming encounter. Their only consolation was to 
 take advantage of the delay, while the enemy were carousing, to 
 strengthen their position. The breast-work on the left of the 
 redoubt extended to what was called the Slough, but beyond this, 
 the ridge of the hill, and the slope toward Mystic River, were 
 undefended, leaving a pass by which the enemy might turn the 
 left flank of the position, and seize upon Bunker's Hill. Putnam 
 ordered his chosen officer. Captain Knowlton, to cover this pass 
 •with the Connecticut troops under his command. A novel kind of 
 rampart, savoring of rural device, was suggested by the rustic gen- 
 eral. About six hundred feet in the rear of the redoubt, and about 
 one hundred feet to the left of the breast-work, was a post and rail- 
 fence, set in a low foot-wall of stone, and extending down to Mys- 
 tic River. The posts and rails of another fence were hastily pulled 
 up, and set a few feet in behind this, and the intermediate space 
 was filled up with new mown hay from the adjacent meadows. 
 This double fence, it will be found, proved an important protection 
 to the redoubt, although there still remained an unprotected inter- 
 val of about seven hundred feet. While Knowlton and his men 
 were putting up this fence, Putnam proceeded with other of his 
 troops to throw up the work on Bunker's Hill, dispatching his son. 
 Captain Putnam, on horseback, to hurry up the remainder of his 
 men from Cambridge. By this time his compeer in French and 
 Indian warfare, the veteran Stark, made his appearance with the 
 New Hampshire troops, five hundred strong. He had grown cool 
 and wary with age, and his march from Medford, a distance of five 
 or six miles, had been in character. He led his men at a moderate 
 pace to bring them into action fresh and vigorous. In crossing the 
 Neck, which was enfiladed by the enemy's ships and batteries. 
 Captain Dearborn, who was by his side, suggested a quick step. 
 The veteran shook his head: "One fresh man in action is worth 
 ten tired ones," replied he, and marched steadily on. Putnam 
 detained some of Stark's men to aid in throwing up the works on 
 Bunker's Hill, and directed him to reinforce Knowlton with the 
 rest. Stark made a short speech to his men now that they were 
 likely to have warm work. He then pushed on, and did good ser- 
 vice that day at the rustic bulwark. About 2 o'clock, Warren 
 arrived on the heights, ready to engage in their perilous defence, 
 although he had opposed the scheme of their occupation. He had 
 recently been elected a major-general, but had not received his 
 commission ; like Pomeroy, he came to serve in the ranks with a 
 musket on his shoulder. Putnam offered him the command at the 
 fence ; he declined it, and merely asked where he could be of 
 most service as a volunteer. Putnam pointed to the redoubt, ob- 
 
1775 1 BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 175 
 
 serving that there lie would be under cover. " Don't think I seek 
 a place of safety," replied Warren, quickly; ''where will the 
 attack be hottest? " Putnam still jointed to the redoubt. '* That 
 is the enemy's object ; if that can be maintained, the day is ours." 
 Warren was cheered by the troopjs as he entered tlie redoubt 
 Colonel Prescott tendered him the command. He again decUned. 
 *' 1 have come to serve only as a volunteer, and shall be happy to 
 learn from a soldier of your experience." Such were the noble 
 spirits assembled on these perilous heights. 
 
 The British now prepared for a general assault. An easy victory 
 was anticipated; the main thought was, how to make it most effec- 
 tual. General Pigot advanced up the hill under cover of a fire 
 from field-pieces and howitzers planted on a small height near the 
 landing-place on Moulton's Point. His troops commenced a dis- 
 charge of musketry while yet at a long distance from the redoubts. 
 The Americans within the works, obedient to strict command, 
 retained their fire until the enemy were within thirty or forty paces, 
 when they opened upon them with a tremendous volley. Being 
 all marksmen, accustomed to take deliberate aim, the slaughter 
 was immense, and especially fatal to officers. The assailants fell 
 back in some confusion ; but, rallied on by their officers, advanced 
 within jMStol shoL Another volley, more effective than tlie first, 
 made them again recoiL To add to their confusion, they were 
 galled by a flanking fire from the handful of Provincials posted in 
 Charlestown. Shocked at the carnage, and seeing the confusion 
 of his troops. General Pigot was urged to give the word for a 
 retreat. 
 
 In the mean time, General Howe, with the right wing, advanced 
 along the Mystic River toward the fence where Stark, Read and 
 KnowUon were stationed, thinking to carry this slight breastwork 
 with ease, and so %^t. in the rear of the fortress. His artillery 
 proved of little avail, being stopped by a swampy piece of ground, 
 while his columns suffered from two or three field-pieces with which 
 Putnam had fortified the fence. Howe's men kept up a fire of 
 musketry as they advanced ; but, not taking aim, their shot passed 
 over the heads of the Americans. The latter had received the 
 same orders with those in the redoubt, not to fire until the enemy 
 should be within thirty paces. Some few transgressed the com- 
 mand. Putnam rode up and swore he would cut down the next 
 man that fired contrary to orders. When the British, arrived 
 within the stated distance a sheeted fire opened upon them from 
 rifles, muskets, and fowling-pieces, all leveled with deadly aim. 
 The carnage, as in the other instance, was horrible. The British 
 were thrown into confusion and fell back ; some even retreated to 
 the boats. The American officers availed themselves of it to pre- 
 pare for another attack, which must soon be made. Prescott min- 
 gled among his men in the redoubt, who were all in high spirits at 
 the severe check they had given "the regulars." He praised 
 them for their steadfastness in maintaining their post, and their 
 good conduct in reserving their fire until the word of command, 
 and exhorted them to do the same in the next attack, Putnam 
 
176 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 rode about Bunker's Hill and its skirts, to rally and bring on rein- 
 forcements which had been checked or scattered in crossing 
 Charlestown Neck by the raking fire from the ships and batteries. 
 Before many could be brought to the scene of action the British 
 had commenced their second attack. They again ascended the 
 hill to storm the redoubt ; their advance was covered as before by 
 discharges of artillery. Charlestown, which had annoyed them 
 on their first attack by a flanking fire, was in flames, by shells 
 thrown from Copp's Hill, and by marines from the ships. Being 
 built of wood, the place was soon wrapped in a general conflagra- 
 tion. The thunder of artillery from batteries and ships, the burst- 
 ing of bomb-shells ; the sharp discharges of musketry ; the shouts 
 and yells of the combatants ; the crash of burning buildings, and 
 the dense volumes of smoke, which obscured the summer sun, all 
 formed a tremendous spectacle. " Sure I am," said Burgoyne in one 
 of his letters, — " Sure I am nothing ever has or ever can be more 
 dreadfully terrible than what was to be seen or heard at this time. 
 The most incessant discharge of guns that ever was heard by mor- 
 tal ears." 
 
 The American troops, although unused to war, stood undismayed 
 amidst a scene where it was bursting upon them with all its horrors. 
 Reserving their fire, as before, until the enemy was close at hand, 
 they again poured forth repeated volleys with the fatal aim of 
 sharpshooters. The British stood the first shock, and continued 
 to advance ; but the incessant stream of fire staggered them. 
 Their officers remonstrated, threatened, and even attempted to 
 goad them on with their swords, but the havoc was too deadly ; 
 whole ranks were mowed down ; many of the officers were either 
 slain or wounded, and among them several of the staff of General 
 Howe. The troops again gave way and retreated down the hill. 
 All this passed under the eye of thousands of spectators of both 
 sexes and all ages, watching from afar every turn of a battle in 
 which the lives of those most dear to them were at hazard. The 
 British soldiery in Boston gazed with astonishment and almost 
 incredulity at the resolute and protracted stand of raw militia whom 
 they had been taught to despise, and at the havoc made among 
 their own veteran troops. Every convoy of wounded brought over 
 to the town increased their consternation, and General Clinton, 
 who had watched the action from Copp's Hill, embarking in a 
 boat, hurried over as a volunteer, taking with him reinforcements. 
 
 A third attack was now determined on, though some of Howe's 
 officers remonstrated, declaring it would be downright butchery. 
 A different plan was adopted. Instead of advancing in front of 
 the redoubt, it was to be taken in flank on the left, where the open 
 space between the breast-work and the fortified fence presented a 
 weak point. It having been accidentally discovered that the 
 ammunition of the Americans was nearly expended, preparations 
 were made to carry the works at the point of the bayonet ; and the 
 soldiery threw off their knapsacks, and some even their coats, to 
 be more light for action. General Howe, with the main body, now 
 made a feint of attacking the fortified fence ; but, while a part of 
 
I775-J I^HE SECOND ASSA UL T. 177 
 
 his force was thus engaged, the rest brought some of the field- 
 pieces to enfilade the breastwork on the left of the redoubt. A rak- 
 ing fire soon drove the Americans out of this exposed place into 
 the inclosure. Much damage, too, was done in the latter by balls 
 which entered the sally-port. The troops were now led on to assail 
 the works ; those who flinched were, as before, goaded on by the 
 swords of the officers. The Americans again reserved their fire 
 until their assailants were close at hand, and then made a murder- 
 ous volley, by which several officers were laid low, and General 
 Howe himself was wounded in the foot. The British soldiery this 
 time likewise reserved their fire and rushed on with fixed bayonets. 
 Clinton and Pigot had reached the southern and eastern sides of 
 the redoubt, and it was now assailed on three sides at once. Pres- 
 cott ordered those who had no bayonets to retire to the back part 
 of the redoubt and fire on the enemy as they showed themselves 
 on the parapet. The first who mounted exclaimed in triumph, 
 "The day is ours!" He was instantly shot down, and so were 
 several others who mounted about the same time. The Americans, 
 however, had fired their last round, their ammunition was 
 exhausted ; and now succeeded a desperate and deadly struggle, 
 hand to hand, with bayonets, stones, and the stocks of their mus- 
 kets. At length, as the British continued to pour in, Prescott gave 
 the order to retreat. His men had to cut their way through two 
 divisions of the enemy who were getting in rear of the redoubt, 
 and they received a destructive volley from those who had formed 
 on the captured works. By that volley fell the patriot Warren, 
 who had distinguished himself throughout the action. He was 
 among the last to leave the redoubt, and had scarce done so when 
 he was shot through the head with a musket-ball, and fell dead on 
 the spot. 
 
 While the Americans were thus slowly dislodged from the redoubt, 
 Stark, Read and Knowlton maintained their ground at the fortified 
 fence ; which, indeed, had been nobly defended throughout the 
 action. Pomeroy distinguished himself here by his sharpshooting 
 until his musket was shattered by a ball. The resistance at this 
 hastily constructed work was kept up after the troops in the redoubt 
 had given way, and until Colonel Prescott had left the hill; thus 
 defeating General Howe's design of cutting off" the retreat of the 
 main body ; which would have produced a scene of direful confu- 
 sion and slaughter. Having effected their purpose, the brave 
 associates at the fence abandoned their weak outpost, retiring 
 slowly, and disputing the ground inch by inch, with a regularity 
 remarkable in troops many of whom had never before been in 
 action. The main retreat was across Bunker's Hill, where Putnam 
 had endeavored to throw up a breast-work. The veteran, sword 
 in hand, rode to the rear of the retreating troops, regardless 
 of the balls whistling about him. His only thought was to rally 
 them at the unfinished works. " Halt ! make a stand here ! " cried 
 he, "we can check them yet. In God's name, form and give them 
 one shot more." Pomeroy, wielding his shattered musket as a 
 truncheon, seconded him in his eff'orts to stay the torrent. It was 
 
178 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 impossible, however, to bring the troops to a stand. They con- 
 tinued on down the hill to the Neck and across it to Cambridge, 
 exposed to a raking fire from the ships and batteries, and only 
 protected by a single piece of ordnance. The British were too 
 exhausted to pursue them ; they contented themselves with taking 
 possession of Bunker's Hill, were reinforced from Boston, and 
 threw up additional works during the night. 
 
 It was the first regular battle between the British and the Ameri- 
 cans, and most eventful in its consequences. The former had 
 gained the ground for which they contended ; but, if a victory, it 
 was more disastrous and humiliating to them than an ordinary 
 defeat. They had ridiculed and despised their enemy, represent- 
 ing them as dastardly and inefficient ; yet here their iDest troops, 
 led on by experienced officers, had repeatedly been repulsed by an 
 inferior force of that enemy — mere yeomanry — from works thrown 
 up in a single night, and had suff'ered a loss rarely paralleled in 
 battle with the most veteran soldiery ; for, according to their own 
 returns, their killed and wounded, out of a detachment of two 
 thousand men, amounted to one thousand and fifty-four, and a 
 large proportion of them officers. The loss of the Americans did 
 not exceed four hundred and fifty. To the latter this defeat, if 
 defeat it might be called, had the effect of a triumph. It gave them 
 confidence in themselves and consequence in the eyes of their 
 enemies. They had proved to themselves and to others that they 
 could measure weapons with the disciplined soldiers of Europe, and 
 inflict the most harm in the conflict. 
 
 Among the British officers slain was Major Pitcairn, who, at 
 Lexington, had shed the first blood in the revolutionary war. In 
 the death of Warren the Americans had to lament the loss of a 
 distinguished patriot and a most estimable man. It was deplored 
 as a public calamity. His friend Elbridge Gerry had endeavored 
 to dissuade him from risking his life in this perilous conflict, " Dulce 
 et decorum est pro patria mori," replied Warren, as if he had fore- 
 seen his fate — a fate to be envied by those ambitious of an honor- 
 able fame. He was one of the first who fell in the glorious cause 
 of his country, and his name has become consecrated in its his- 
 tory. 
 
 Prescott conducted the troops in the night enterprise ; he super- 
 intended the building of the redoubt, and defended it throughout 
 the battle ; his name, therefore, will ever shine most conspicuous, 
 and deservedly so, on this bright page of our Revolutionary his- 
 tory. Putnam was a leading spirit throughout the affair; one of 
 the first to prompt and of the last to maintain it. He appears to 
 have been active and efficient at every point ; sometimes fortifying ; 
 sometimes hurrying up reinforcements ; inspiriting the men by his 
 presence while they were able to maintain their ground, and fight- 
 i^^g gallantly at the outpost to cover their retreat. The brave old 
 man, riding about in the heat of the action, on this sultry day, 
 "with a hanger belted across his brawny shoulders, over a waist- 
 coat without sleeves," has been sneered at by a contemporary, as 
 ••much fitter to head a band of sickle men or ditchers than mus- 
 
1775-1 VALUE OF HISTORIC NAMES. 179 
 
 keteers." But this very description illustrates his character, and 
 identifies him with the times and the service. A yeoman warrior 
 fresh from the plow, in the garb of rural labor ; a patriot brave and 
 generous, but rough and ready, who thought not of himself in time 
 of danger, but was ready to serve in any way, and to sacrifice 
 official rank and self-glorificaton to the good of the cause. He was 
 eminently a soldier for the occasion. His name has long been a. 
 favorite one with young and old ; one of the talismanic names of 
 the Revolution, the very mention of which is like the sound of a 
 trumpet. Such names are the precious jewels of our history, to be 
 garnered up among the treasures of the nation, and kept immacu- 
 late from the tarnishing breath of the cynic and the doubter. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WASHINGTON ARRIVES IN THE CAMP AND TAKES COMMAND. 
 
 In a preceding chapter we left Washington preparing to depart 
 from Philadelphia for the army before Boston. He set out on 
 horseback on the 21st of June, having for military companions of 
 his journey Major-Generals Lee and Schuyler, and being accom- 
 panied for a distance by several private friends. As an escort he 
 had a "gentleman troop" of Philadelphia, commanded by Cap- 
 tain Markoe ; the whole formed a brilliant cavalcade. In fact, the 
 journey of Washington with his associate generals, experienced 
 like him in the wild expeditions of the old P>ench war, was a revi- 
 val of early campaigning feelings. They had scarcely proceeded 
 twenty miles from Philadelphia when they were met by a courier, 
 spurring with all speed, bearing dispatches from the army to Con- 
 gress, communicating tidings of the battle of Bunker's Hill. 
 Washington eagerly inquired particulars; above all, how acted the 
 militia? When told that they stood their ground bravely ; sustained 
 the enemy's fire — reserved their own until at close quarters, and 
 then delivered it with deadly effect ; it seemed as if a weight of 
 doubt and solicitude were lifted from his heart. "The liberties of 
 the country are safe!" exclaimed he. The news of the battle of 
 Bunker's Hill had startled the whole country ; and this clattering 
 cavalcade, escorting the commander-i n-chief to the army, was the 
 gaze and wonder of every town and village. 
 
 The journey may be said to have been a continual council of 
 ■war between Washington and the two generals. Even the contrast 
 in character of the two latter made them regard questions from 
 different points of view. Schuyler, a warm-hearted patriot, with 
 everything staked on the cause ; Lee, a soldier of fortune, indiffer- 
 ent to the ties of home and country, drawing his sword without 
 enthusiasm ; more through resentment against a government 
 which had disappointed him, than zeal for liberty or for colonial 
 rights. 
 
i8o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 The population of New York was more varied in its elements 
 than that of almost any other of the provinces, and had to be 
 cautiously studied. The New Yorkers were of a mixed origin, and 
 stamped with the peculiarities of their respective ancestors. The 
 descendants of the old Dutch and Huguenot families, the earliest 
 settlers, were still among the soundest and best of the population. 
 They inherited the love of liberty, civil and religious, of their fore- 
 fathers, and were those who stood foremost in the present struggle 
 for popular rights. Such were the Jays, the Bensons, the Beek- 
 mans, the Hoffmans, the Van Homes, the Roosevelts, the Duyc- 
 kinks, the Pintards, the Yateses, and others whose names figure 
 in the patriotic documents of the day. Some of them, doubtless, 
 cherished a remembrance of the time when their forefathers were 
 lords of the land, and felt an innate propensity to join in resistance to 
 the government by which their supremacy had been overturned. A 
 great proportion of the more modern families, dating from the down- 
 fall of the Dutch government in 1664, were English and Scotch, 
 and among these were many loyal adherents to the crown. Then 
 there was a mixture of the -whole, produced by the intermarriages 
 of upward of a century, which partook of every shade of charac- 
 ter and sentiment. The operations of foreign commerce, and the 
 regular communications with the mother country through packets 
 and ships of war, kept these elements in constant action, and con- 
 tributed to produce that mercurial temperament, that fondness for 
 excitement, and proneness to pleasure, which distinguished them 
 from their neighbors on cither side — the austere Puritans of New 
 England, and the quiet "Friends" of Pennsylvania. 
 
 There was a power, too, of a formidable kind within the interior 
 of the province, which was an object of much solicitude. This 
 was the "Johnson Family." We have repeatedly had occasion to 
 speak of Sir William Johnson, his majesty's general agent for 
 Indian affairs, of his great wealth, and his almost sovereign sway 
 over the Six Nations. He had originally received that appoint- 
 ment through the influence of the Schuyler family. Both Generals 
 Schuyler and Lee, when young men, had campaigned with him ; 
 and it was among the Mohawk warriors, who rallied under his 
 standard, that Lee had beheld his vaunted models of good-breeding. 
 
 In the recent difficulties between the crown and colonies, Sir 
 William had naturally been in favor of the government which had 
 enriched and honored him, but he had viewed with deep concern 
 the acts of Parliament which were goading the colonists to armed 
 resistance. In the height of his solicitude, he received dispatches 
 ordering him, in case of hostihties, to enlist the Indians in the cause 
 of government. To the agitation of feelings produced by these or- 
 ders many have attributed a stroke of apoplexy, of which he died, 
 on the nth of July, 1774, about a year "before the time of which 
 we are treating. His son and heir, Sir John Johnson and his sons- 
 in-law, Colonel Guy Johnson and Colonel Claus, felt none of the 
 reluctance of Sir William to use harsh measures in support of roy- 
 alty. They lived in a degree of rude feudal style in stone mansions 
 capable of defense, situated on the Mohawk River and in its vicin- 
 
I77S.] PEOPLE OF NEW YORK. i8i 
 
 ity ; they had many Scottish Highlanders for tenants ; and among 
 their adherents were violent men, such as the Butlers of Tryon 
 County, and Brant, the Mohawk sachem since famous in Ind'ian 
 warfare. Tiiey had recently gone about with armed retainers, 
 overawing and breaking up patriotic assemblages, and it was 
 known they could at any time bring a force of warriors in the field. 
 Recent accounts stated that Sir John was fortifying the old family 
 hall at Johnstown with swivels, and had a hundred and fifty 
 Roman Catholic Highlanders quartered in and about it, all armed 
 and ready to obey his orders. 
 
 Colonel Guy Johnson, however, was the most active and zealous 
 of the family. Pretending to apprehend a design on the part of the 
 New England people to surprise and carry him off, he fortified his 
 stone mansion on the Mohawk, called Guy's Park, and assembled 
 there a part of his militia regiment, and other of his adherents, to 
 the number of five hundred. He held a great Indian council there, 
 hkewise, in which the chiefs of the Six Nations recalled the friend- 
 ship and good deeds of the late Sir WiUiam Johnson, and avowed 
 their determination to stand by and defend every branch of his 
 family. 
 
 Tryon, the governor of New York, was at present absent in Eng- 
 land, having been called home by the ministry to give an account 
 of the affairs of the province, and to receive instructions for its 
 management. He was a tory in heart, and had been a zealous 
 opponent of all colonial movements, and his talents and address 
 gave him great influence over an important part of the community. 
 Should he return with hostile instructions, and should he and the 
 Johnsons cooperate, the one controlling the bay and harbor of 
 New York and the waters of the Hudson by means of ships and 
 land forces; the others overrunning the valley of the Mohawk and 
 the regions beyond Albany with savage hordes, this great central 
 province might be wrested from the confederacy , and all inter- 
 course broken off between the eastern and southern colonies. All 
 these circumstances and considerations, many of which came under 
 discussion in the course of this military journey, rendered the com- 
 mand of New York a post of especial trust and importance, and 
 determined Washington to confide it to General Schuyler. He 
 was pecuHarly fitted for it by his mihtary talents, his intimate 
 knowledge of the province and its concerns, especially what related 
 to the upper parts of it, and his experience in Indian affairs. 
 
 At Newark, in the Jerseys, Washington was met on the 25th by 
 a committee of the provincial Congress, sent to conduct him to the 
 city. The Congress was in a perplexity. It had in a manner 
 usurped and exercised the powers of Governor Tryon during his 
 absence, while at the same time it professed allegiance to the crown 
 which had appointed him. He was now in the harbor, just arrived 
 from England, and hourly expected to land. Washington, too, was 
 approaching. How were these double claims to ceremonious 
 respect happening at the same time to be managed? 
 
 In this dilemma a regiment of militia was turned out, and the 
 colonel instructed to pay military honors to whichever of the dis- 
 
1 82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 tinguished functionaries should first arrive. Washington was ear- 
 lier than the governor by several hours, and received those honors. 
 The landing of Governor Try on took place about eight o'clock in 
 the evening. The military honors were repeated. A ship of war, 
 the Asia, lay anchored opposite the city ; its grim batteries bearing 
 upon it, greatly to the disquiet of the faint-hearted among its inhabi- 
 tants. In this situation of affairsWashington was happy to leave such 
 an efficient person as General Schuylerin command of the place. At 
 New York, Washington had learned all the details of the battle of 
 Bunker's Hill ; they quickened his impatience to arrive at the camp. 
 In the mean time the provincial Congress of Massachusetts, then in 
 session at Watertown, had made arrangements for the expected 
 arrival of Washington. According to a resolve of that body, "the 
 president's house in Cambridge, excepting one room reserved by 
 the president for his own use, was to be taken, cleared, prepared, and 
 furnished for the reception of the Commander-in-Chief and Gener- 
 al Lee. The Congress had hkewise sent on a deputation which 
 met Washington at Springfield, on the frontiers of the province, 
 and provided escorts and accomodations for him along the road. 
 Washington proceeded to the head-quarters provided for him at 
 Cambridge, three miles distant. As he entered the confines of 
 the camp the shouts of the multitude and the thundering of artil- 
 lery gave note to the enemy beleaguered in Boston of his arrival. 
 His military reputation had preceded him and excited great expec- 
 tations. They were not disappointed. His personal appearance, 
 notwithstanding the dust of travel, was calculated to captivate the 
 public eye. As he rode through the camp, amidst a throng of 
 officers, he was the admiration of the soldiery and of a curious 
 throng collected from the surrounding country. Happy was the 
 countryman who could get a full view of him to carry home an 
 account of it to his neighbors. "I have been much gratified this 
 day with a view of General Washington," writes a contemporary 
 chronicler. "His excellency was on horseback, in company with 
 several military gentlemen. It was not difficult to distinguish him 
 from all others. He is tall and well-proportioned, and his perso- 
 nal appearance truly noble and majestic." The fair sex were still 
 more enthusiastic in their admiration, if we may judge from the fol- 
 lowing passage of a letter written by the intelligent and accomp- 
 hshed wife of John Adams to her husband: "Dignity, ease, and 
 complacency, the gentleman and the soldier, look agreeably 
 blended in him. Modesty marks every hne and feature of his 
 face. Those hues of Dryden instantly occurred to me: 
 
 " ' Mark his majestic fabric ! He's a temple 
 Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine ; 
 His soul's the deity that lodges there ; 
 Nor is the pile unworthy of the God.' " 
 
 With Washington, modest at all times, there was no false excite- 
 ment on the present occasion ; nothing to call forth emotions of 
 self-glorification. The honors and congratulations with which 
 he was received, the acclamations of the pubhc, the cheerings of 
 the army, only told him how much was expected from him ; and 
 when he looked round upon the raw and rustic levies he was to 
 
1 77 5 • ] HO WE— CLINTON— B UR G 1 'NE. 1 83 
 
 command, "a mixed multitude of people, under very little disci- 
 pline, order, or government," scattered in rough encampments 
 about hill and dale, beleaguering a city garrisoned by veteran 
 troops, with ships of war anchored about its harbor, and strong 
 outposts guarding it, he felt the awful responsibility of his situation, 
 and the compUcated and stupendous task before him. He spoke 
 of it, however, not despondingly nor boastfully and with defiance ; 
 but with that solemn and sedate resolution, and that hopeful 
 reliance on Supreme Goodness, which belonged to his magnan- 
 imous nature. The cause of his country, he observed, had called 
 him to an active and dangerous duty, but he trusted that Divine 
 Providence, which wisely orders the affairs of men, would enable 
 him to discharge it with fidelity and success. 
 
 On the 3d of July, the morning after his arrival at Cambridge, 
 Washington took formal command of the army. It was drawn up 
 on the Common about half a mile from head-quarters. A multi- 
 tude had assembled there, for as yet military spectacles were 
 novelties, and the camp was full of visitors, men, women, and 
 children, from all parts of the country, who had relatives among 
 the yeoman soldiery. An ancient elm is still pointed out, under 
 which Washington, as he arrived from head-quarters accompanied 
 by General Lee and a numerous suite, wheeled his horse, and drew 
 his sword as commander-in-chief of the armies. Washington 
 visited the different American posts, and rode to the heights, com- 
 manding views over Boston and its environs, being anxious to 
 make himself acquainted with the strength and relative position of 
 both armies ; and here we will give a few particulars concerning 
 the distinguished commanders with whom he was brought immedi- 
 ately in competition. 
 
 Congress, speaking of them reproachfully, observed, "Three of 
 England's most experienced generals are sent to wage war with 
 their fellow-subjects." The first here alluded to was the Honor- 
 able WilUam Howe, next in command to Gage. He was a man of 
 a fine presence, six feet high, well proportioned, and of graceful 
 deportment. He is said to have been not unlike Washington in 
 appearance, though wanting his energy and activity. He lacked 
 also his air of authority ; but affability of manners, and a generous 
 disposition, made him popular with both officers and soldiers. 
 
 There was a sentiment in his favor even among Americans at 
 the time when he arrived at Boston. It was remembered that he 
 was brother to the gallant and generous youth. Lord Howe, who 
 fell in the flower of his days, on the banks of Lake George, and 
 whose untimely death had been lamented throughout the colonies. 
 It was remembered that the general himself had won reputation in 
 the same campaign, commanding the light infantry under Wolfe, 
 on the famous plains of Abraham. A mournful feeling had there- 
 fore gone through the country, when General Howe was cited as 
 one of the British commanders who had most distinguished them- 
 selves in the bloody battle of Bunker's Hill. General Henry 
 Clinton, the next in command, was grand-son of the Earl of 
 Lincoln, and son of George Clinton, who had been Governor ot 
 
i84 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the province of New York for ten years, from 1743. The general 
 had seen service on the continent in the Seven Years' War, He 
 was of short stature, and inclined to corpulency ; with a full face 
 and prominent nose. His manners were reserved, and altogether 
 he was in strong contrast with Howe, and by no means so popular. 
 
 Burgoyne, the other British general of note, had entered the 
 army at an early age. In 1758, Burgoyne was a heutenant- 
 colonel of light dragoons. In 1761, he was sent with a force to 
 aid the Portuguese against the Spaniards, joined the army com- 
 manded by the Count de la Lippe, and signalized himself by 
 surprising and capturing the town of Alcantara. He had since 
 been elected to Parliament for the borough of Middlesex, and dis- 
 played considerable parliamentary talents. In 1772, he was made 
 a major-general. Such were the three British commanders at 
 Boston, who were considered especially formidable ; and they had 
 with them eleven thousand veteran troops, well appointed and well 
 disciplined. 
 
 In visiting the different posts, Washington halted for a time at 
 Prospect Hill, which, as its name denotes, commanded a wide view 
 over Boston and the surrounding country. Here Putnam had 
 taken his position after the battle of Bunker's Hill, fortifying him- 
 self with works which he deemed impregnable; and here the 
 veteran was enabled to point out to the commander-in-chief, and 
 to Lee, the main features of the belligerent region, which lay 
 spread out like a map before them. Bunker's Hill was but a mile 
 distant to the east ; the British standard floating as if in triumph 
 on its summit. The main force under General Howe was intrench- 
 ing itself strongly about half a mile beyond the place of the recent 
 battle. Scarlet uniforms gleamed about the hill; tents and 
 marquees whitened its sides. All up there was bright, brilliant, 
 and triumphant. At the base of the hill lay Charlestown in ashes, 
 " nothing to be seen of that fine town but chimneys and rubbish." 
 Howe's sentries extended a hundred and fifty yards beyond the 
 neck or isthmus, over which the Americans retreated after the 
 battle. Three floating batteries in Mystic River commanded this 
 isthmus, and a twenty-gun ship was anchored between the peninsula 
 and Boston. General Gage, the commander-in-chief, still had his 
 head-quarters in the town, but there were few troops there besides 
 Burgoyne' s light-horse. A large force however, was intrenched 
 south of the town on the neck leading to Roxbury — the only 
 entrance to Boston by land. 
 
 The American troops were irregularly distributed in a kind of 
 semicircle eight or nine miles in extent ; the left resting on Winter 
 Hill, the most northern post: the right extending on the south to 
 Roxbury and Dorchester Neck. 
 
 Washington reconnoitered the British posts from various points 
 of view. Everything about them was in admirable order. The 
 works appeared to be constructed with military science, the troops 
 to be in high state of discipline. The American camp, on the 
 contrary, disappointed him. He had expected to find eighteen or 
 twenty thousand men under arms ; there were not much more than 
 
1775] -S-^T? V£V FROM PROSPECT HILL. 185 
 
 fourteen thousand. He had expected to find some degree of sys- 
 tem and discipline ; whereas all were raw militia. He had expected 
 to find works scientifically constructed, and proofs of knowledge 
 and skill in engineering ; whereas, what he saw of the latter was 
 very imperfect, and confined to the mere manual exercise of can- 
 non. There was abundant evidence of aptness at trenching and 
 throwing up rough defences ; and in that way General Thomas 
 had fortified Roxbury Neck, and Putman had strengthened Pros- 
 pect Hill, But the semicircular line which linked the extreme 
 posts, was formed of rudely-constructed works, far too extensive 
 for the troops which were at hand to man them. Within this 
 attenuated semicircle, the British forces lay concentrated and com- 
 pact ; and having command of the water, might suddenly bring 
 their main strength to bear upon some weak points, force it, and 
 sever the American camp. In fact, when we consider the scanty, 
 ill-conditioned and irregular force which had thus stretched itself 
 out to beleaguer a town and harbor defended by ships and floating 
 batteries, and garrisoned by eleven thousand strongly posted vet- 
 erans, we are at a loss whether to attribute its hazardous position 
 to ignorance, or to that daring self-confidence, which at times, in 
 our mihtary history, has snatched success in defiance of scientific 
 rules. One of the encampments, however, was in striking con- 
 trast with the rest, and might vie wMth those of the British for 
 order and exactness. Here were tents and marquees pitched in 
 the English style ; soldiers well drilled and well equipped ; every- 
 thing had an air of discipline and subordination. It was a body 
 of Rhode Island troops, which had been raised, drilled, and brought 
 to the camp by Brigadier-General Greene, of that province, whose 
 subsequent renown entitles him to an introduction to the reader. 
 Nathaniel Greene was born in Rhode Island, on the 26th of May, 
 1742. His father was a miller, an anchor-smith, and a Quaker 
 preacher. The waters of the Potowhammet turned the wheels 
 of the mill, and raised the ponderous sledge hammer of the 
 forge. Greene, in his boyhood, followed the plow, and occasion- 
 ally worked at the forge of his father. His education was of an 
 ordinary kind ; but having an early thirst for knowledge, he 
 applied himself sedulously to various studies, while subsisting by 
 the labor of his hands. Nature had endowed him with quick 
 parts, and a sound judgment, and his assiduity was crowned with suc- 
 cess. He became fluent and instructive in conversation, and his 
 letters, still extant, show that he held an able pen. In the late 
 turn of public affairs, he had caught the belligerent spirit prevalent 
 throughout the country. Plutarch and Caesar's Commentaries 
 became his delight. He applied himself to military studies, for 
 which he was prepared by some knowledge of mathematics. His 
 ambition was to organize and discipline a corps of militia to which 
 he belonged. For this purpose, during a visit to Boston, he had 
 taken note of everything about the discipline of the British troops. 
 Greene made a soldier-like address to Washington, welcoming 
 him to the camp. His appearance and manner were calculated to 
 make a favorable impression. He was about thirty-nine years of 
 
i86 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 age, nearly six feet high, well built and vigorous, with an open, 
 animated, intelligent countenance, and a frank, manly demeanor. 
 He may be said to have stepped at once into the confidence of the 
 commander-in-chief, which he never forfeited, but became one of 
 his most attached, faithful, and efficient coadjutors throughout the 
 war. 
 
 Having taken his survey of the army, Washington wrote to the 
 President of Congress, representing its various deficiencies, and, 
 among other things, urging the appointment of a commissary-gen- 
 eral, a quartermaster-general, a commissary of musters, and a 
 commissary of artillery. Above all things, he requested a supply 
 of money as soon as possible. " I find myself already much em- 
 barrassed for want of a military chest." In one of his recommen- 
 dations we have an instance of frontier expediency, learned in his 
 early campaigns. Speaking of the ragged condition of the army, 
 and the difficulty of procuring the requisite kind of clothing, he 
 advises that a number of hunting-shirts, not less than ten thousand, 
 should be provided ; as being the cheapest and quickest mode of 
 supplying this necessity. " I know nothing in a speculative view 
 more trivial," observes he, " yet which, if put in practice would 
 have a happier tendency to unite the men, and abolish those pro- 
 vincial distinctions that lead to jealousy and dissatisfaction." 
 Among the troops most destitute, were those belonging to Massa- 
 chusetts, which formed the larger part of the army. Washington 
 made a noble apology for them. " This unhappy and devoted 
 province," said he, " has been so long in a state of anarchy, and 
 the yoke has been laid so heavily on it, that great allowances are 
 to be made for troops raised under such circumstances. The 
 deficiency of numbers, discipline, and stores, can only lead to this 
 conclusion, that their spirits had exceeded their strength'' 
 
 One of the most efficient cooperators of Washington at this 
 time, and throughout the war, was Jonathan Trumbull, the Gov- 
 ernor of Connecticut, He was a well-educated man, experienced 
 in public business, who had sat for many years in the legislative 
 councils of his native province. Misfortune had cast him down 
 from affluence, at an advanced period of life, but had not subdued his 
 native energy. He had been one of the leading spirits of the Revolu- 
 tion, and the only colonial governor who, at its commencement, 
 proved true to the popular cause. He was now sixty-five years of 
 age, active, zealous, devout, a patriot of the primitive New Eng- 
 land stamp, whose religion sanctified his patriotism. A letter 
 addressed by him to Washington, just after the latter had entered 
 upon the command, is worthy of the purest days of the Cov- 
 enanters. " Congress," writes he, "have, with one united voice, 
 appointed you to the high station you possess. The Supreme 
 Director of all events hath caused a wonderful union of hearts and 
 counsels to subsist among us. Now, therefore, be strong, and very 
 courageous. May the God of the armies of Israel shower down the 
 blessings of his Divine providence on you ; give you wisdom and 
 fortitude, cover your head in the day of battle and danger, add suc- 
 cess, convince our enemies of their mistaken measures, and that all 
 
1775] WASHINGTON'S FAMILY. 187 
 
 their attempts to deprive these colonies of their inestimable con- 
 stitutional rights and liberties, are injurious and vain." 
 
 The justice and impartiality of Washington were called into 
 exercise as soon as he entered upon his command, in allaying dis- 
 contents among his general officers caused by the recent appoint- 
 ments and promotions made by the Continental Congress. Gen- 
 eral Spencer was so offended that Putnam should be promoted 
 over his head, that he left the army, without visiting the command- 
 er-in-chief; but was subsequently induced to return. General 
 Thomas felt aggrieved by being outranked by the veteran Pome- 
 roy ; the latter, however, declining to serve, he found himself 
 senior brigadier, and was appeased. The sterling merits of Put- 
 nam soon made every one acquiesce in his promotion. There was 
 a generosity and buoyancy about the brave old man that made 
 him a favorite throughout the army ; especially with the younger 
 officers, who spoke of him familiarly and fondly as "Old Put ; " a 
 sobriquet by which he is called even in one of the private letters 
 of the commander-in-chief. 
 
 The member of Washington's family most deserving of mention 
 at present, was his secretary, Mr. Joseph Reed. With this gentle- 
 man he had formed an intimacy in the course of his visits to 
 attend the sessions of the Continental Congress. Mr. Reed was 
 an accomplished man, had studied law in America, and at the 
 Temple in London, and had gained a hi^h reputation at the Phila- 
 delphia bar. In the dawning of the Revolution he had embraced 
 the popular cause, and carried on a correspondence with the Earl 
 of Dartmouth, endeavoring to enlighten that minister on the sub- 
 ject of colonial affairs. He had since been highly instrumental in 
 rousing the Philadelphians to cooj^erate with the patriots of Bos- 
 ton. A sympathy of views and feelings had attached him to 
 Washington, and induced him to accompany him to the camp. 
 He had no definite purpose when he left home, and his friends in 
 Philadelphia were surprised, on receiving a letter from him written 
 from Cambridge, to find that he had accepted the post of secre- 
 tary to the commander-in-chief. Washington has occasionally 
 been represented as cold and reserved ; yet his intercourse with 
 Mr. Reed is a proof to the contrary. His friendship toward him, 
 was frank and cordial, and the confidence he reposed in him full 
 and implicit. Reed, in fact, became, in a little time, the intimate 
 companion of his thoughts, his bosom counselor. 
 
 The arrival of Gates in camp was heartily welcomed by the 
 commander-in-chief, who had received a letter from that officer, 
 gratefully acknowledging his friendly influence in procuring him 
 the appointment of adjutant-general. 
 
 The hazardous position of the army from the great extent and 
 weakness of its Mnes, was what most pressed on the immediate 
 attention of Washington ; and he hastened to improve the defences 
 of the camp, strengthen the weak parts of the line, and throw up 
 additional works around the main forts. No one seconded him 
 more effectually in this matter than General Putnam. No works 
 
1 88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 were thrown up with equal rapidity to those under his superintend- 
 ence. "You infuse your own spirit into your workmen," said 
 Washington. 
 
 The army was distributed by Washington into three grand 
 divisions. One, forming the right wing, was stationed on the 
 heights of Roxbury. It was commanded by Major-General Ward, 
 who had under him Brigadier-General Spencer and Thomas. 
 Another, forming the left wing under Major-General Lee, having 
 with him Brigadier-Generals Sullivan and Greene, was stationed on 
 Winter and Prospect Hills ; while the center, under Major-General 
 Putnam and Brigadier-General Heath, was stationed at Cam- 
 bridge. With Putnam was encamped his favorite officer Knowl- 
 ton, who had been promoted by Congress to the rank of major for 
 his gallantry at Bunker's Hill. At Washington's recommendation, 
 Joseph Trumbull, the eldest son of the governor, received on the 
 24th of July the appointment of commissary -general of the con- 
 tinental army. He had already officiated with talent in that capa- 
 city in the Connecticut militia. 
 
 Nothing excited more gaze and wonder among the rustic visitors 
 to the camp, than the arrival of several rifle companies, fourteen 
 hundred men in all, from Pennsylvania, Maryland and Virginia ; 
 such stalwart fellows as Washington had known in his early 
 campaigns. Stark hunters and bush fighters ; many of them 
 upward of six feet high, and of vigorous frame ; dressed in fringed 
 frocks, or rifle shirts, and round hats. Their displays of sharp 
 shooting were soon among the marvels of the camp. We are told 
 that while advancing at quick step, they could hit a mark of seven 
 inches diameter, at the distance of two hundred and fifty yards. 
 One of these companies was commaded by Captain Daniel Morgan, 
 a native of New Jersey, whose first experience in war had been to 
 accompany Braddock's army as a wagoner. He had since carried 
 arms on the frontier and obtained a command. He and his rifle- 
 men in coming to the camp had marched six hundred miles in three 
 weeks. 
 
 The great object of Washington at present, was to force the enemy 
 to come out of Boston and try a decisive action. His fines had for 
 some time cut off all communication of the town with the country, 
 and he had caused the live stock within a considerable distance of 
 the place to be driven back from the coast, out of reach of the men- 
 of-war's boats. Fresh provisions and vegetables were consequent- 
 ly growing more and more scarce and extravagantly dear, and 
 sickness began to prevail. At this critical juncture, when Wash- 
 ington was pressing the siege, and endeavoring to provoke a 
 general action, a startling fact came to light ; the whole amount of 
 powder in the camp would not furnish more than nine cartridges 
 to a man ! A gross error had been made by the committee of sup- 
 plies when Washington, on taking command, had required a 
 return of the ammunition. They had returned the whole amount of 
 powder collected by the province, upward of three hundred barrels; 
 without stating what had been expended. The blunder was 
 detected on an order being issued for a new supply of cartridges. 
 
I775-] CANADA MENACED. 189 
 
 It was found that there were but thirty-two barrels of powder in 
 store. This was an astounding discovery. Washington instantly 
 dispatched letters and expresses to Rhode Island, the Jerseys, Ti- 
 conderoga and elsewhere, urging immediate supplies of powder and 
 lead, no quantity, however small, to be considered beneath notice. 
 Day after day elapsed without the arrival of any supplies; for in 
 these irregular times, the munitions of war were not readily 
 procured. It seemed hardly possible that the matter could be kept 
 concealed from the enemy. Their work on Bunker's Hill com- 
 manded a full view of those of the Americans on Winter and Pro- 
 spect Hill. Each camp could see what was passing in the other. 
 The sentries were almost near enough to converse. There was 
 furtive intercourse occasionally between the men. In this critical 
 state, the American camp remained for a fortnight; the anxious 
 commander incessantly apprehending an attack. At length a 
 partial supply from the Jerseys put an end to this imminent risk. 
 Washington's secretary, Reed, who had been the confidant of his 
 troubles and anxieties, gives a vivid expression of his feelings on 
 the arrival of this relief. "I can hardly look back, without 
 shuddering, at our situation before this increase of our stock. 
 Stock did I say ? it was next to nothing. Almost the whole powder 
 of the army was in the cartridge-boxes. " 
 
 Notwithstanding the supply from the Jerseys, there was not more 
 powder in camp than would serve the artillery for one day of 
 general action. None, therefore, was allowed to be wasted ; the 
 troops were even obliged to bear in silence an occasional can- 
 nonading. 
 
 Washington issued orders that British officers at Watertown and 
 Cape Ann, who were at large on parole, should be confined in 
 Northampton jail ; explaining to them that this conduct, which 
 might appear to them harsh and cruel, was contrary to his disposi- 
 tion, but according to the rule of treatment observed by General 
 Gage toward the American prisoners in his hands ; making no 
 distinction of rank. Circumstances, of which we have no explana- 
 tion, induced subsequently a revocation of this order ; the officers 
 were permitted to remain as before, at large upon parole, experienc- 
 ing every indulgence and civihty consistent with their security. 
 
 Letters from General Schuyler, received in the course of 
 July, had awakened apprehensions of danger from the interior. 
 The Johnsons were said to be stirring up the Indians in the western 
 parts of New York to hostility, and preparing to join the British 
 forces in Canada; so that, while the patriots were battling for their 
 rights along the seaboard, they were menaced by a powerful com- 
 bination in rear. 
 
 Both Allen and Arnold were ambitious of further laurels. Both 
 were anxious to lead an expedition into Canada ; and Ticonderoga 
 and Crown Point would open the way to it. " The Key is ours," 
 writes Allen to the New York Congress. " If the colonies would 
 suddenly push an army of two or three thousand men into Canada, 
 they might make an easy conquest of all that would oppose them, 
 in the extensive province of Quebec, except a reinforcement from 
 
190 LIFE OF WASHING TO A*. 
 
 England should prevent it. Such a div^ersion would weaken Gage, 
 and insure us Canada. I wish to God America would, at this 
 critical juncture, exert herself agreeably to the indignity offered 
 her by a tyrannical ministry. She might rise on eagles' wings, and 
 mount up to glory, freedom, and immortal honor, if she did but 
 know and exert her strength. Fame is now hovering over her 
 head. A vast continent must now sink to slavery, poverty, horror 
 and bondage, or rise to unconquerable freedom, immense wealth, 
 inexpressible felicity, and immortal fame. I will lay my life on it, 
 that with fifteen hundred men, and a proper train of artillery, I 
 will take Montreal. Provided I could be thus furnished, and if an 
 army could command the field, it would be no insuperable 
 difficulty to take Quebec." 
 
 Arnold urged the same project, but in less magniloquent 
 language, upon the attention of the Continental Congress, His 
 letter was dated from Crown Point ; where he had a Uttle squadron, 
 composed of the sloop captured at St, Johns, a schooner, and a 
 flotilla of bateaux. All these he had equipped, armed, manned, 
 and officered ; and his crews were devoted to him. In his letter to 
 the Continental Congress he gave information concerning Canada, 
 collected through spies and agents, Carleton, he said, had not six 
 hundred effective men under him. The Canadians and Indians 
 were disaffected to the British Government, and Montreal was 
 ready to throw open its gates to a patriot force. Two thousand 
 men, he was certain, would be sufficient to get possession of the 
 province. 
 
 At this juncture arrived a committee of three members of the 
 Congress of Massachusetts, sent by that body to inquire into the 
 manner in which he had executed his instructions ; complaints 
 having been made of his arrogant and undue assumption of com- 
 mand, Arnold was thunderstruck at being subjected to inquiry, 
 when he had expected an ovation. He requested a sight of the 
 committee's instructions. The sight of them only increased his 
 indignation. They were to acquaint themselves with the manner 
 in which he had executed his commission ; with his spirit, capacity, 
 and conduct. Should they think proper, they might order him to 
 return to Massachusetts, to render account of the moneys, 
 ammunition and stores he had received, and the debts he had con- 
 tracted on behalf of the colony. While at Ticonderoga, he and 
 his men were to be under command of the principal officer from 
 Connecticut. 
 
 Arnold was furious. He swore he would be second in command 
 to no one, disbanded his men, and threw up his commission. 
 Quite a scene ensued. His men became turbulent ; some refused 
 to serve under any other leader; others clamored for their pay, 
 which was in arrears. Part joined Arnold on board of the vessels 
 which were drawn out into the lake ; and among other ebullitions 
 of passion, there was a threat of sailing for St. Johns, At length 
 the storm was allayed by the interference of several of the officers, 
 and the assurances of the committee that every man should be 
 paid. A part of them enlisted under Colonel Easton, and Arnold 
 
MAKQUIS DE LAFAYETTE. 
 
1775] CANADA TO BE INVADED. 191 
 
 set off for Cambridge to settle his accounts with the committee of 
 
 safety. 
 
 The project of an invasion of Canada, urged by Allen and 
 Arnold, had at first met with no favor, the Continental Congress 
 having formally resolved to make no hostile attempts upon that 
 province. Intelligence subsequently received, induced it to change 
 its plans. Carleton was said to be strengthening the fortifications 
 and garrison at St. Johns, and preparing to launch vessels on the 
 lake wherewith to regain command of it, and retake the captured 
 posts. Powerful reinforcements were coming from England and 
 elsewhere. Guy Johnson was holding councils with the fierce 
 Cayugas and Senecas, and stirring up the Six Nations to hostility. 
 On the other hand, Canada was full of religious and political dis- 
 sensions. The late exploits of the Americans on Lake Champlain 
 had produced a favorable effect on the Canadians, who would flock 
 to the patriot standard if unfurled among them by an imposing 
 force. Now was the time to strike a blow to paralyze all hostility 
 from this quarter; now, while Carleton's regular force was weak, 
 and before the arrival of additional troops. Influenced by these 
 considerations. Congress now determined to extend the revolution 
 into Canada, but it was an enterprise too important to be intrusted 
 to any but discreet hands. General Schuyler, then in New York, 
 was accordingly ordered, on the 27th of June, to proceed to 
 Ticonderoga, and " should he find it practicable, and not disagree- 
 able to the Canadians, immediately to take possession of St. Johns 
 and Montreal, and pursue such other measures in Canada as might 
 have a tendency to promote the peace and security of these 
 provinces." 
 
 Schuyler arrived at Ticonderoga on the i8th of July. A letter, 
 to Washington, to whom, as commander-in-chief, he made con- 
 stant reports, gives a striking picture of a frontier post in those 
 crude days of the Revolution. 
 
 " You will expect that I should say something about this place 
 and the troops here. Not one earthly thing for offence or defence 
 has been done ; the commanding officer has no orders ; he only 
 came to reinforce the garrisojt, and he expected the general. 
 About ten last night I arrived at the landing-place, at the north 
 end of Lake George ; a post occupied by a captain and one hun- 
 dred men. A sentinel, on being informed that I was in the boat, 
 quitted his post to go and awaken the guard, consisting of three 
 men, in which he had no success. I walked up and came to 
 another, a sergeant's guard. Here the sentinel challenged, but 
 suffered me to come up to him ; the whole guard, like the first, in 
 the soundest sleep. With a penknife only I could have cut off 
 both guards, and then have set fire to the block house, destroyed 
 the stores, and starved the people here. At this post I had 
 pointedly recommended vigilance and care, as all the stores from 
 Lake George must necessarily be landed here. But I hope to get 
 the better of this inattention. The officers and men are all good- 
 looking people and decent in their deportment, and I really believe 
 will make good soldiers as soon as I can get the better of this 
 
192 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 nonchalance of theirs. Bravery, I believe, they are far from want- 
 ing." 
 
 Colonel Hinman was in temporary command at Ticonderoga, if 
 that could be called a command where none seemed to obey. The 
 garrison was about twelve hundred strong ; the greater part Con- 
 necticut men brought by himself ; some were New York troops, 
 and some few Green Mountain Boys. Schuyler, on taking com- 
 mand, dispatched a confidential agent into Canada, Major John 
 Brown, an American, who resided on the Sorel River, and was 
 popular among the Canadians. He was to collect information as 
 to the British forces and fordfications, and to ascertain how an in- 
 vasion and an attack on St. Johns would be considered by the peo- 
 ple of the province : in the mean time, Schuyler set diligently to work 
 to build boats and prepare for the enterprise, should it ultimately 
 be ordered by Congress. Ethan Allen arrived, as a volunteer, and 
 was accepted by Schuyler, to act as a pioneer on the Canadian 
 frontier. From his agent Major Brown, and from other sources, 
 he had learned that there were but about three hundred troops at 
 St. Johns, about fifty at (2uebec, and three hundred and fifty at 
 Montreal, Chamblee, and the upper posts. Colonel Guy Johnson 
 was at Montreal with three hundred men, mostly his tenants, and 
 with a number of Indians. Two batteries had been finished at St. 
 Johna, mounting nine guns each : other works were intrenched 
 and spicketed. Two large row galleys were on the stocks, and 
 would soon be finished. Now was the time, according to his in- 
 formants to carry Canada. It might be done with great ease and 
 little cost. The Canadians were disaffected to British rule, and 
 would join the Americans, and so would many of the Indians. "I 
 am prepared," writes he to Washington, "to move against the 
 enemy, unless your Excellency and Congress should direct other- 
 wise. In the course of a few days I expect to receive the ultimate 
 determitiation. Whatever it may be, I shall try to execute it in 
 such a manner as will promote the just cause in which we are en- 
 gaged." 
 
 While awaiting orders on this head, he repaired to Albany, to 
 hold a conference and negotiate a treaty with the Caughnawagas, 
 and the warriors of the Six Nations, whom, as one of the com- 
 missioners of Indian affairs, he had invited to meet him at thai 
 place. General Richard Montgomery was to remain in command 
 at Ticonderoga during his absence, and to urge forward the mili- 
 tary preparations. 
 
 General Montgomery was of a good family in the north of Ire- 
 land, where he was born in 1736. He entered the army when 
 about eighteen years of age ; served in America in the French 
 war ; won a lieutenancy by gallant conduct at Louisburg ; followed 
 General Amherst to Lake Champlain, and, after the conquest of 
 Canada, was promoted to a captaincy for his services in the West 
 Indies, After the peace of Versailles he resided in England ; but 
 about three years before the breaking out of the Revolution, he 
 sold out his comm.ission in the army and emigrated to New York. 
 Here he married the eldest daughter of Judge Robert R. Livings- 
 
1775] GENERAL MONTGOMERY. 193 
 
 ton, of the Clerniont branch of that family ; and took up his 
 residence on an estate which he had purchased in Dutchess 
 County on the banks of the Hudson. Being known to be in favor 
 of the popular cause, he was drawn reluctantly from his rural 
 abode, to represent his county in the first convention of the 
 province ; and on the recent organization of the anny, his military 
 reputation gained him the unsought commission of Brigadier-Gen- 
 eral He was about thirty-nine years of age, and the beau ideal 
 of a soldier. His form was well proportioned and vigorous ; his 
 countenance expressive and prepossessing ; he was cool and dis- 
 criminating in council, energetic and fearless in action. His princi- 
 ples commanded the respect of friends and foes, and he was noted 
 for winning the affections of the soldiery. 
 
 While these thing were occurring at Ticonderoga, several In- 
 dian chiefs made their appearance in the camp at Cambridge. 
 They came in savage state and costume, as ambassadors from their 
 respective tribes, to have a talk about the impending invasion of 
 Canada. One was chief of the Caughnawaga tribe, whose 
 residence was on the banks of the St. Lawrence, six miles above 
 Montreal. Others were from St. Francis, about forty-five leagues 
 above Quebec, and were of a warlike tribe, from which hostilities 
 had been especially apprehended. Washington, accustomed to 
 deal with the red warriors of the wilderness, received them with 
 great ceremonial. They dined at head-quarters among his officers, 
 and it is observed that to some of the latter they might have served 
 as models ; such was their grave dignity and decorum. A council 
 fire was held. The sachems all offered, on behalf of their tribes, 
 to take up the hatchet for the Americans, should the latter invade 
 Canada. The offer was embarrassing. Congress had publicly 
 resolved to seek nothing but neutrality from the Indian nations, 
 unless the ministerial agents should make an offensive alliance with 
 them. The chief of the St. Francis tribe declared that Governor 
 Carleton had endeavored to persuade him to take up the hatchet 
 against the Americans, but in vain. "As our ancestors gave this 
 country to you," added he grandly, "we would not have you 
 destroyed by England ; but are ready to afford you our assistance." 
 Washington wished to be certain of the conduct of the enemy, 
 before he gave a reply to these Indian overtures. He wrote by 
 express, therefore, to General Schuyler, requesting him to ascer- 
 tain the intentions of the British governor with respect to the native 
 tribes. He also proposed an expidition against Quebec, by way of 
 Kennebec river. The express found Schuyler in Albany, where he 
 had been attending the conference with the Six Nations. He declared 
 his conviction, from various accounts which he had received, that 
 Carleton and his agents were exciting the Indian tribes to hostility. 
 'I should, therefore not hesitate one moment," to employ any 
 savages that might be willing to join us>" 
 
 The siege of Boston had been kept up for several weeks without 
 any remarkable occurrence. The British remained within their 
 lines, diligently strengthening them ; the besiegers, having received- 
 further supplies of ammunition, were growing impatient of a state 
 
194 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of inactivity. Washington detached fourteen hundred men to 
 seize at night upon a height within musket shot of the enemy's 
 Une on Charlestown Neck. The task was executed with silence 
 and celerity, and by daybreak the hill presented to the astonished 
 foe the aspect of a fortified post. The British opened a heavy can- 
 nonade from Bunker's Hill, but kept within their works. The 
 Americans, scant of ammunition, could only reply with a single 
 nine-pounder ; this, however, sank one of the floating batteries 
 which guarded the neck. They went on to complete and 
 strengthen this advanced post, exposed to daily cannonade and 
 bombardment, which, however, did but little injury. 
 
 In the meantime, as it was evident the enemy did not intend to 
 come out, but were only strengthening their defences and prepar- 
 ing for winter, Washington was enabled to turn his attention to the 
 expedition to be sent into Canada by the way of the Kennebec 
 River. A detachment of about eleven hundred men, chosen for 
 the purpose, was soon encamped on Cambridge Common. There 
 were ten companies of New England infantry, some of them from 
 General Greene's Rhode Island regiments ; three rifle companies 
 from Pennsylvania and Virginia, one of them Captain Daniel Mor- 
 gan's famous company ; and a number of volunteers ; among whom 
 was Aaron Burr, then but twenty years of age, and just commenc- 
 ing his varied, brilliant, but ultimately unfortunate career. 
 
 The proposed expedition was wild and perilous, and required a 
 hardy, skillful and intrepid leader. Such a one was at hand. 
 Benedict Arnold was at Cambridge, occupied in settHng his 
 accounts with the Massachusetts committee of safety. These 
 were nearly adjusted. Whatever faults may have been found with 
 his conduct in some particulars, his exploits on Lake Champlain had 
 atoned for them ; for valor in time of war covers a multitude of 
 sins. Washington had given him an honorable reception at head- 
 quarters, and now considered him the very man for the present 
 enterprise. He had shown aptness for military service, whether 
 on land or water. He was acquainted, too, with Canada, and 
 especially Avith Quebec, having, in the course of his checkered life 
 traded in horses between that place and the West Indies. With 
 these considerations he intrusted him with the command of the 
 expedition, giving him the commission of heutenant-colonel in the 
 continental aniiy. As he would be intrusted Avith dangerous pow- 
 ers, Washington, beside a general letter of instructions, addressed 
 a special one to him individually, full of cautious and considerate 
 advice. In the general letter of instructions, Washington, inserted 
 the following clause. "If Lord Chatham's son should be in Can- 
 ada, and in any way fall into your power, you are enjoined to treat 
 him with all possible deference and respect. You cannot err in 
 paying too much honor to the son of so illustrious a character and 
 so true a friend to America." 
 
 Arnold was furnished with hand-bills for distribution in Canada, 
 setting forth the friendly objects of the present expedition, as well 
 as of that under General Schuyler ; and calling on the Canadians 
 
1775] SCHUYLER ON THE SOREL. 195 
 
 to furnish necessaries and accommodations of every kind ; for 
 which they were assured ample compensation. 
 
 On the 13th of September, Arnold struck his tents, and set out in 
 high spirits. Washington enjoined upon him to push forward as 
 rapidly as possible, success depending upon celerity ; and counted 
 the days as they elapsed after his departure, impatient to receive 
 tidings of his progress up the Kennebec, and expecting that the 
 expedition would reach Quebec about the middle of October. In 
 the interim came letters from General Schuyler, giving particulars 
 of the main expedition. 
 
 In a preceding chapter we left the general and his little army at 
 the Isle aux Noix, near the Sorel River, the outlet of the lake. 
 Thence, on the 5th of September, he sent Colonel Ethan Allen and 
 Major Brown to reconnoiter the country between that river and the 
 St. Lawrence, to distribute friendly addresses among the people 
 and ascertain their feelings. This done, and having landed his 
 baggage and provisions,.the general proceeded along the Sorel 
 River the next day with his boats, until within two miles of St. 
 Johns, when a cannonade was opened from the fort. 
 
 In the night the camp was visited secretly, by a person who 
 informed General Schuyler of the state of the fort. The works were 
 completed, and furnished with cannon. A vessel pierced for six- 
 teen guns was launched, and would be ready to sail in three or four 
 days. It was not probable that any Canadians would join the 
 army, being disposed to remain neutral. This intelligence being dis- 
 cussed in a council of war in the morning, it was determined that 
 they had neither men nor artillery sufficient to undertake a seige. 
 They returned, therefore, to the Isle aux Noix, cast up fortifica- 
 tions, and threw a boom across the channel of the river to prevent 
 the passage of the enemy's vessels into the lake, and awaited the 
 arrival of artillery and reinforcements from Ticonderoga. In the 
 course of a few days the expected reinforcements arrived and with 
 them a small train of artillery, Ethan Allen also returned from 
 his reconnoitering expedition, of which he made a most enourag- 
 ing report. The Canadian captains of militia were ready, he sartd, 
 to join the Americans, whenever they should appear with sufficient 
 force. He had held talks, too, with the Indians, and found them 
 well disposed. Preparations were now made for the investment of 
 St. Johns by land and water. Major Brown, who had already 
 acted as a scout, was sent with one hundred Americans, and about 
 thirty Canadians toward Chamblee, to make friends in that quarter, 
 and to join the army as soon as it should arrive at St. Johns. To 
 quiet the restless activity of Ethan Allen, who had no command 
 in the army, he was sent with an escort of thirty men to retrace his 
 steps, penetrate to La Prairie, and beat up for recruits among the 
 people whom he had recently visited. For some lime past, Gen- 
 eral Schuyler had been struggling with a complication of maladies, 
 but exerting himself to the utmost in the harassing business of the 
 camp, still hoping to be able to move with the army. When every- 
 thing was nearly ready, he was attacked in the night by a severe 
 access of his disorder, which confined him to his bed, and com- 
 
196 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 pelled him to surrender the conduct of the expedition to Gen- 
 eral Montgomery. Since he could beof no further use, therefore, 
 in this quarter, he caused his bed to be placed on a broad covered 
 bateau, and set off for Ticonderoga, to hasten forward reinforce- 
 ments and supplies. 
 
 On the 1 6th of September, the day after Schuyler's departure for 
 Ticonderoga, Montgomery proceeded to carry out the plans which 
 had been concerted between tliem. Landing on the i/tli at the, 
 place where they had formerly encamped, within a mile and a 
 half of the fort, he detached a force of five hundred men. 
 
 St. Johns had a garrison of five or six hundred regulars and two 
 hundred Canadian militia. Its commander. Major P*reston, made a 
 brave resistance. Montgomery had not proper battering cannon ; 
 his mortars were defective ; his artillerists unpracticed, and the engi- 
 neer ignorant of the first principles of his art. The seige went on 
 slowly, until the arrival of an artillery company under Captain 
 Lamb, expedited from Saratoga by General Schuyler. Lamb, who 
 was an able officer, immediately bedded a thirteen-inch mortar, 
 and commenced a fire of shot and shells upon the fort. The dis- 
 tance, however, was too great, and the positions of the batteries 
 were ill chosen. 
 
 Allen w as on his w ay tOAvards St. Johns, when, between Longueil 
 and La Prairie, he met Colonel Brown with his party of Americans 
 and Canadians. A conversation took place between them. Brown 
 assured him that the garrison at Montreal did not exceed thirty 
 men, and might easily be surprised. Allen's partisan spiiit was 
 instantly excited. Here was a chance for another bold stroke 
 equal to that at Ticonderoga, A plan was forthwith agreed upon. 
 Allen was to return to Longueil, which is nearly opposite Montreal, 
 and cross the St. Lawrence in canoes in the night, so as to land a 
 httle below the town. Brown, with two hundred men, was to 
 cross above, and Montreal was to be attacked simultaneously at 
 opposite points. 
 
 All this was arranged and put in action without the consent or 
 knowledge of General Montgomery ; Allen was again the partisan 
 leader, acting from individual impulse. His late letter also to Gen- 
 eral Montgomery, would seem to have partaken of fanfaronade ; for 
 the whole force with which he undertook his part of this inconsider- 
 ate enterprise, was thirty Americans, and eighty Canadians. With 
 these he crossed the river on the 24th of September, the few canoes 
 found at Longueil having to pass to and fro repeatedly, before his 
 petty force could be landed. Guards were stationed on the roads 
 to prevent any one passing and giving the alarm in Montreal. Day 
 dawned, but there was no signal of Major Brown having perform- 
 ed his part of the scheme. The enterprise seems to have been as 
 ill concerted, as it was ill advised. The day advanced, but still 
 no signal ; it was evident Major Brown had not crossed. Allen 
 would gladly have recrossed the river, but it was too late. An alarm 
 had been given to the town, and he soon found himself encoun- 
 tered by about forty regular soldiers, and a hasty levy of Canadians 
 and Indians. A smart action ensued ; most of Allen's Canadian 
 
1775] ANNOYANCES OF SCHUYLER. 197 
 
 recruits gave way and fled, a number of Americans were slain, 
 and he at length surrendered to Maj. Campbell, the British officer, 
 who considered them as little better than a band of freebooters on a 
 maraud. Their leader, albeit a colonel, must have seemed worthy 
 of the band ; for Allen was arrayed in rough frontier style ; a 
 deerskin jacket, a vest and breeches of coarse serge, worsted stock- 
 ings, stout shoes, and a red woolen cap. 
 
 We give Allen's own account of his reception by the British offi- 
 cer. "He asked me my name, which I told him. He then asked 
 me whether I was that Colonel Allen who took Ticonderoga. I 
 told him I was the very man. Then he shook his cane over my 
 head, calling me many hard names, among which, he frequently 
 used the word rebel, and put himself in a great rage." 
 
 Ethan Allen, according to his own account, answered with 
 becoming spirit. Indeed, he gives somewhat of a melodramatic 
 scene, which ended by his being sent on board of the Gaspee 
 schooner of war, heavily ironed, to be transported to England for 
 trial; Prescott giving him the parting assurance, sealed with an 
 emphatic oath, that he would grace a halter at Tyburn. 
 
 Neither Allen's courage nor his rhetorical vein deserted him on 
 this trying occasion. From his place of confinement, he indited 
 the following epistle to the general : — 
 
 "Honorable Sir, — In the wheel of transitory events I find 
 myself prisoner, and in irons. Probably your honor has certain 
 reasons to me inconceivable, though I challenge an instance of this 
 sort of economy of the Americans during the late war to any offi- 
 cers of the crown. On my part, I have to assure your honor, that 
 when I had the command and took Captain Delaplace and Lieu- 
 tenant Fulton, with the garrison of Ticonderoga, I treated them 
 with every mark of friendship and generosity, the evidence of which 
 is notorious, even in Canada. I have only to add, that I expect an 
 honorable and humane treatment, as an officer of my rank and 
 merit should have, and subscribe myself your honor's most obedi- 
 ent servant, "Ethan Allen." 
 
 In the British publication from which we cite the above, the fol- 
 lowing note is appended to the letter, probably on the authority of 
 General Prescott: "N. B. — The author of the above letter is an 
 outlaw, and a reward is offered by the New York Assembly for 
 apprehending him." — [Remembrancer, ii, 51I. 
 
 The reckless dash at Montreal was viewea with concern by the 
 American commander. "I am apprehensive of disagreeable con- 
 sequences arising from Mr. Allen's imprudence," writes General 
 Schuyler. "I always dreaded his impatience of subordination, 
 and it was not until after a solemn promise made me in the pres- 
 ence of several officers, that he would demean himself with propri- 
 ety, that I would permit him to attend the army ; nor would I have 
 consented then, had not his solicitations been backed by several offi- 
 cers." The conduct of Allen was also severely censured by Wash- 
 ington. "His misfortune," said he, "will, I hope, teach a lesson of 
 
198 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 prudence and subordination to others who may be ambitious to 
 outshine their general officers, and, regardless of order and duty, 
 rush into enterprises which have unfavorable effects on the public, 
 and are destructive to themselves." 
 
 Washington received a dispatch from Arnold dated October 13th, 
 from the great portage or carrying-place between the Kennebec 
 and Dead Rivers. The toils of the expedition up the Kennebec 
 River had indeed been excessive. Part of the men of each divis- 
 ion managed the boats — part marched along the banks. Those on 
 board had to labor against swift currents ; to unload at rapids, 
 transport the cargoes, and sometimes the boats themselves, for 
 some distance on their shoulders, and then to reload. They were 
 days in making their way round stupendous cataracts ; several 
 times their boats were upset and filled with water, to the loss or 
 damage of arms, ammunition, and provisions. 
 
 Those on land had to scramble over rocks and precipices, to 
 struggle through swamps and fenny streams ; or cut their way 
 through tangled thickets, which reduced their clothes to rags. 
 With all their efforts, their progress was but from four to ten miles 
 a day. At night the men of each division encamped together. 
 By the time they arrived at the place whence the letter was writ- 
 ten, fatigue, swamp fevers and desertion had reduced their num- 
 bers to about nine hundred and fifty effective men. Arnold, how- 
 ever, wrote in good heart. "The last division," said he, "is just 
 arrived ; three divisions are over the first carrying-place, and as 
 the men are in high spirits, I make no doubt of reaching the river 
 Chaudiere in eight or ten days, the greatest difficulty being, I hope, 
 already past." 
 
 While the two expeditions were threatening Canada from dif- 
 ferent quarters, the war was going on along the seaboard. The 
 British in Boston, cut off from supplies by land, fitted out small 
 armed vessels to seek them along the coast of New England. The 
 inhabitants drove their cattle into the interior, or boldly resisted 
 the aggressors. Parties landing to forage were often repulsed by 
 hasty levies of the yeomanry. Scenes of ravage and violence 
 occurred. Stonington was cannonaded, and further measures of 
 vengeance were threatened by Captain Wallace of the Rose man- 
 of-war, a naval officer, who had acquired an almost piratical 
 reputation along the coast, and had his rendezvous in the harbor of 
 Newport, domineering over the waters of Rhode Island. 
 
 To check these maraudings, and to capture the enemy's trans- 
 ports laden with supplies, the provinces of Masachusetts, Rhode 
 Island and Connecticut, fitted out two armed vessels each, at their 
 own expense, without seeking the sanction or aid of Congress. 
 Washington, also, on his own responsibility, ordered several to be 
 equipped for like purpose, which were to be manned by hardy 
 mariners, and commanded by able sea captains, actually serving 
 in the army. Among the sturdy little New England seaports, 
 which had become obnoxious to punishment by resistance to 
 nautical exactions, was Falmouth (now P®rtland), in Maine. On 
 the evening of the nth of October, Lieutenant Mowat, of the royal 
 
1 775-] GAGE RETURNS TO ENGLAND. 199 
 
 navy, appeared before it with several armed vessels, and sent a 
 letter on shore, apprising the inhabitants that he was come to 
 execute a just punishment on them for their "premeditated attacks 
 on the legal prerogatives of the best of sovereigns." The lieuten- 
 ant next offered to spare the town on certam conditions, which 
 were refused. About half-past nine o'clock Oct 12, the red pendant 
 was run up to the mast-head, and the signal gun fired. Within 
 five minutes several houses were in flames, from a discharge of 
 carcasses and bombshells, which continued throughout the day. 
 The inhabitants, "standing on the heights, were spectators of the 
 conflagration, which reduced many of them to penury and 
 despair." 139 houses and 228 stores are said to have been burned. 
 
 General Sullivan was sent to Portsmouth, where there was a 
 fortification of some strength, to give the inhabitants his advice and 
 assistance in warning off the menaced blow. Newport, also, was 
 put on the alert, and recommended to fortify itself. "I expect 
 every hour," writes Washington, "to hear that Newport has 
 shared the same fate of unhappy Falmouth." Under the feehng 
 roused by these reports, the General Court of Massachusetts, 
 exercising a sovereign power, passed an act for encouraging the 
 fitting out of armed vessels to defend the sea-coast of America, and 
 for erecting a court to try and condemn all vessels that should be 
 found infesting the same. This act, granting letters of marque 
 and reprisal, anticipated any measure of the kind on the part of the 
 General Government, and was pronounced by John Adams, "one 
 of the most important documents in history." General Gage 
 sailed for England on the loth of October. The tidipgs of the 
 battle of Bunker's Hill had withered his laurels as a commander. 
 He never returned to America. 
 
 General Howe took command in Boston. He proceeded to 
 strengthen the works on Bunker's Hill and Boston Neck, and to 
 clear away houses and throw up redoubts on eminences within the 
 town. The patriot inhabitants were shocked by the desecration of 
 the Old South Church, which for more than a hundred years had 
 been a favorite place of worship, where some of the most eminent 
 divines had officiated. The pulpit and pews were now removed, 
 the floor was covered with earth, and the sacred edifice was con- 
 verted into a riding-school for Burgoyne's light dragoons. The 
 North Church, another "meeting-house," was entirely demolished 
 and used for fuel. 
 
 Washington had recently been incensed by the conflagration of 
 Falmouth ; the conduct of Governor Dunmore, who had pro- 
 claimed martial law in Virginia, and threatened ruin to the patriots, 
 had added to his provocation ; the measures of General Howe 
 seemed of the same harsh character, and he determined to retaliate. 
 
 In this spirit he ordered General Sullivan, who was fortifying 
 Portsmouth, "to seize upon such persons as held commissions 
 under the crown, and were acting as open and avowed enemies to 
 their country, and hold them as hostages for the security of the 
 town." Still he was moderate in his retaliation, and stopped short 
 of private individuals. Washington had been embarrassed through- 
 
20O LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 out the siege by the want of artillery and ordnance stores ; but 
 never more so than at the present moment. In this juncture, Mr. 
 Henry Knox stepped forward, and offered to proceed to the 
 frontier forts on Champlain in quest of a supply. He was one of 
 those providential characters which spring up in emergencies, as 
 if they were formed by and for the occasion. A thriving book- 
 seller in Boston, he had thrown up business to take up arms for the 
 liberties of his country. He was one of the patriots who had 
 fought on Bunker's Hill, since when he had aided in planning the 
 defences of the camp before Boston. 
 
 No one drew closer to Washington in this time of his troubles and 
 perplexities than General Greene. He had a real veneration for 
 his character, and thought himself " happy in an opportunity to 
 serve under so good a General." He grieved at Washington's 
 annoyances, but attributed them in part to his being somewhat of a 
 stranger in New England, 
 
 Dispatches from Schuyler dated October 26th gave Washing- 
 ton another chapter of the Canada expedition. Chamblee, an infer- 
 ior fort, within five miles of St. Johns, had been taken by Majors 
 Brown and Livingston at the head of fifty Americans and three 
 hundred Canadians. A large quantity of gunpowder and other 
 military stores found there was a seasonable supply to the army 
 before St. Johns, and consoled General Montgomery for his 
 disappointment in regard to the aid promised by Colonel Ethan 
 Allen. He now pressed the siege of St. Johns with vigor. The 
 garrison, cut off from supplies, were suffering from want of 
 provisions ; but the brave commander. Major Preston, still held 
 out manfully, hoping speedy relief from General Carleton, who on 
 the 30th of September, had embarked a motley force at Montreal 
 in thirty-four boats, to cross the St. Lawrence, land at Longueil, 
 and push on for St. Johns, where, as concerted, he was to be 
 joined by Maclean and his Highlanders. As the boats approached 
 the right bank of the river at Longueil, a terrible fire of artillery and 
 musketry was unexpectedly opened upon them, and threw them 
 into confusion. It was from Colonel Seth Warner's detachment of 
 Green Mountain Boys and New Yorkers. Some of the boats were 
 disabled, some were driven on shore on an island ; Carleton 
 retreated with the rest to Montreal, with some loss in killed and 
 wounded. Four prisoners carried the tidings to the camp. 
 Aware that the garrison held out merely in expectation of the 
 relief thus intercepted, Montgomery ceased his fire, and sent a 
 flag by one of the Canadian prisoners with a letter informing 
 Major Preston of the event, and inviting a surrender to spare the 
 effusion of blood. The gallant major was obliged to capitulate. 
 His garrison consisted of five hundred regulars and one hundred 
 Canadians, including several provincial noblesse. Montgomery 
 treated Preston and his garrison with the courtesy inspired by their 
 gallant resistance. Having sent his prisoners up Lake Champlain 
 to Ticonderoga, he prepared to proceed immediately to Montreal ; 
 requesting General Schuyler to forward all the men he could pos- 
 sibly spare. 
 
BARON STEUBEN. 
 
1 775-] SLrCC£SS£S OF THE AMERICANS. 201 
 
 The transportation of troops and effects across the carrying-place 
 between the Kennebec and Dead Rivers had been a work of 
 severe toil and difficulty to Arnold and his men, but performed 
 with admirable spirit. There were ponds and streams full of trout 
 and salmon, which furnished them with fresh provisions. Launch- 
 ing their boats on the sluggish waters of the Dead River, they 
 navigated it in divisions, as before, to the foot of snow-crowned 
 mountains ; a part of the great granite chain which extends from 
 south-west to north-east throughout our continent. Here, while 
 Arnold and the first division were encamped to repose themselves, 
 heavy rains set in, and they came near being swept away by 
 sudden torrents from the mountains. Several of their boats were 
 overturned, much of their provisions was lost, the sick list in- 
 creased, and the good spirits which had hitherto sustained them 
 began to give away. They were on scanty allowance, with a pros- 
 pect of harder times, for there were still twelve or fifteen days of 
 wilderness before them, where no supplies were to be had. A 
 council of war was now held, in which it was determined to send back 
 the sick and disabled, who were mere incumbrances. Arnold, 
 accordingly, wrote to the commanders of the other divisions, to 
 press on with as many of their men as they could furnish w ith pro- 
 visions for fifteen days, and to send the rest back to a place on 
 the route called Norridgewock. This order was misunderstood, or 
 misinterpreted by Colonel Enos, who commanded the rear division ; 
 he gave all the provisions he could spare to Colonel Greene of the 
 third division, retaining merely enough to supply his own corps of 
 three hundred men on their way back to Norridgewock, whither he 
 immediately returned. 
 
 Washington was not mistaken in the confidence he had placed in 
 the energy of Arnold. Though the latter found his petty force 
 greatly reduced by the retrograde move of Enos and his party, 
 and although snow and ice rendered his march still more bleak 
 among the mountains, he kept on with unflirnihing spirit until he 
 arrived at the ridge which divides the streams of New England 
 and Canada. Here, at Lake Megantic, the source of the 
 Chaudiere, he met an emissary whom he had sent in advance to 
 ascertain the feelings of the habitans, or French yeomanry, in the 
 fertile valley of that stream. His report being favorable, Arnold 
 shared out among the different companies the scanty provisions 
 which remained, directing them to make the best of their way for 
 the Chaudiere settlements ; while he, with a light foraging party, 
 would push rapidly ahead, to procure and send back supplies. 
 He accordingly embarked with his little party in five bateaux and 
 a birch canoe, and launched forth without a guide on the swift 
 current of the Chaudiere. It was little better than a mountain tor- 
 rent, full of rocks and rapids. Three of their boats were dashed to 
 pieces, the cargoes lost, and the crews saved with difficulty. At one 
 time, the whole party came near being precipitated over a cataract, 
 where all might have perished ; at length they reached Sertigan, 
 the first French settlement, where they were cordially received. 
 Here Arnold bought provisions, which he sent back by the Cana- 
 
202 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 dians and Indians to his troops. The latter were in a state of 
 starvation. Some had not tasted food for eight and forty hours ; 
 others had cooked two dogs, followers of the camp ; and others 
 had boiled their moccasins, cartouch boxes, and other articles of 
 leather, in the hope of rendering them eatable, Arnold halted for 
 a short time in the hospitable valleys of the Chaudiere, to give his 
 troops repose, and distributed among the inhabitants the printed 
 manifesto with which he had been furnished by Washington. 
 Here he was joined by about forty Norridgewock Indians. On the 
 9th of November, the little army emerged from the woods at Point 
 Levi, on the St. Lawrence, opposite to Quebec. Montgomery ap- 
 peared before Montreal on the 12th of November. General 
 Carleton had embarked with his little garrison, and several of the 
 civil officers of the place, on board of a flotilla of ten or eleven 
 small vessels, and made sail in the niglii, with a favorable breeze, 
 carrying away with them the powder and other important stores. 
 The town capitulated, of course ; and Montgomery took quiet pos- 
 session. His urbanity and kindness soon won the good will of the 
 inhabitants, both English and French, and made the Canadians 
 sensible that he really came to secure their rights, not to molest 
 them. Intercepted letters acquainted him with Arnold's arrival in 
 the neighborhood of Quebec. The flotilla in which Carleton was 
 embarked had made repeated attempts to escape down the St. 
 Lawrence ; but had as often been driven back by the batteries 
 thrown up by the Americans at the mouth of the Sorel. It now lay 
 anchored about fifteen miles above that river ; and Montgomery 
 prepared to attack it with bateaux and light ardllery, so as to force 
 It down upon the batteries. Carleton saw his imminent peril. 
 Disguising himself as a Canadian voyager, he set off on a dark 
 night accompanied by six peasants, in a boat with muffled oars, 
 which he assisted to pull ; slipped quietly and silently past all the 
 batteries and guard-boats, and effected his escape to Three Rivers, 
 where he embarked in a vessel for Quebec. After his departure 
 the flotilla surrendered, 
 
 Montgomery now placed garrisons in Montreal, St. Johns and 
 Chamblee, and made final preparations for descending the St. 
 Lawrence, and cooperating with Arnold against Quebec. To his 
 disappointment and deep chagrin; he found but a handful of his 
 troops disposed to accompany him. 
 
 On Dec. 2d, a long, lumbering train of wagons, laden with ordi- 
 nance and military stores, and decorated with flags, came wheeling 
 into Washington's camp, escorted by continental troops and mili- 
 tia. They were part of the cargo of a large brigantine laden with 
 munitions of war, captured and sent in to Cape Ann by the schooner 
 Lee, Captain Manly, one of the cruisers sent out by Washington. 
 " Such universal joy ran through the whole camp," writes an offi- 
 cer, "as if each one grasped a victory in his own hands." Beside 
 the ordnance captured, there were two thousand stand of arms, 
 one hundred thousand flints, thirty thousand round shot, and 
 thirty-two tons of musket balls. 
 
 Amid the various concerns of the war, and the multiplied per- 
 
1 7 7S-] AFFAIRS A T MO UNT VERNON, 203 
 
 plexities of the camp, the thoughts of Washington continually 
 reverted to his home on the banks of the Potomac. A constant 
 correspondence was kept up between him and his agent, Mr. Lund 
 Washington, who had charge of his various estates. The general 
 gave clear and minute directions as to their management. He 
 wrote : " Let the hospitality of the house with respect to the poor 
 be kept up. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this kind of 
 people should be in want of corn, supply their necessaries, pro- 
 vided it does not encourage them to idleness ; and I have no objec- 
 tion to your giving my money in charity to the amount of forty or 
 fifty pounds a year, when you think it well bestowed. What I 
 mean by having no objection is, that it is my desire it should be 
 done. You are to consider that neither myself nor wife is now in 
 the way to do those good offices." 
 
 Mrs. Washington came on in November, with her own carriage 
 and horses, accompanied by her son, Mr. Custis, and his wife, to 
 join Washington at the camp. She traveled by very easy stages, 
 partly on account of the badness of the roads, partly out of regard 
 to the horses, of which Washington was always very careful, and 
 which were generally remarkable for beauty and excellence. 
 Escorts and guards of honor attended her from place to place, and 
 she was detained some time at Philadelphia, by the devoted atten- 
 tion of the inhabitants. Her arrival at Cambridge was a glad 
 event in the army. Incidental mention is made of the equipage in 
 which she appeared there. A chariot and four, with black postil- 
 ions in scarlet and white liveries. It has been suggested that this 
 was an English style of equipage, derived from the Fairfaxes ; but 
 in truth it was a style still prevalent at that day in Virginia. 
 
 It would appear that dinner invitations to head-quarters were 
 becoming matters of pride and solicitude. " I am much obliged 
 to you," writes Washington to Reed, "for the hints respecting the 
 jealousies which you say are gone abroad. I cannot charge myself 
 with incivility, or what in my opinion is tantamount, ceremonious 
 civiHty to gentlemen of this colony ; but if such my conduct 
 appears, I will endeavor at a reformation ; as I can assure you, my 
 dear Reed, that I wish to walk in such a hne as will give most gen- 
 eral satisfaction. You know that it was my wish at first to invite a 
 certain number to dinner, but unintentionally we somehow or other 
 missed of it. If this has given rise to the jealousy, I can only say 
 that I am very sorry for it ; at the same time I add, that it was 
 rather owing to inattention, or more properly, too much attention 
 to other matters, which caused me to neglect it." The presence of 
 Mrs. Washington soon relieved the general from this kind of per- 
 plexity. She presided at head-quarters with mingled dignity and 
 affability, Washington had prayers morning and evening, and 
 was regular in his attendance at the church in which he was a 
 communicant. Not long after her arrival in camp, Mrs. Washing- 
 ton claimed to keep twelfth-night in due style, as the anniversary of 
 her wedding. " The general," says the same informant, "was some- 
 what thoughtful, and said he was afraid he must refuse it." His 
 
204 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 objections were overcome, and twelfth-night and the wedding anni- 
 versary were duly celebrated. 
 
 John Adams gives us a picture of festivities at head-quarters, 
 where he was a visitant on the recess of Congress. " I dined at 
 Co\. Mifflin's with the general (Washington) and lady and a vast 
 collection of other company, among whom were six or seven 
 sachems and warriors of the French Caughnawaga Indians, with 
 their wives and children. A savage feast they made of it ; yet 
 were very polite in the Indian style. I was introduced to them by 
 the general as one of the grand council at Philadelphia, which 
 made them prick up their ears. They came and shook hands with 
 me." 
 
 We subjoin an anecdote from the manuscript memoir of an eye 
 witness. A large party of Virginia riflemen, who had recently 
 arrived in camp, were strolling about Cambridge, and viewing the 
 collegiate buildings, now turned into barracks. Their half-Indian 
 equipments, and fringed and ruffled hunting garbs, provoked the 
 merriment of some troops from Marblehead, chiefly fishermen and 
 sailors, who thought nothing equal to the round jacket and trows- 
 ers. A bantering ensued between them. There Avas snow upon 
 the ground, and snowballs began to fly when jokes were wanting. 
 The parties waxed warm with the contest. They closed, and came 
 to blows ; both sides were reinforced, and in a little while at least 
 a thousand were at fisticuffs, and there was a tumult in the camp 
 worthy of the days of Homer. "At this juncture," writes our 
 informant, "Washington made his appearance, whether by acci- 
 dent or design, I never knew. I saw none of his aids with him; 
 his black servant was just behind him mounted. He threw the 
 bridle of his own horse into his servant's hands, sprang from his 
 seat, rushed into the thickest of the melee, seized two tall brawny 
 riflemen by the throat, keeping them at arm's-length, talking to 
 and shaking them." As they were from iiis own province, he may 
 have felt peculiarly responsible for their good conduct ; they were 
 engaged, too, in one of those sectional brawls which were his espe- 
 cial abhorrence ; his reprimand must, therefore, have been a vehe- 
 ment one. He was commanding in his serenest moments, but 
 irresistible in his bursts of indignation. On the present occasion, 
 we are told, his appearance and strong-handed rebuke put an 
 instant end to the tumult. The combatants dispersed in all direc- 
 tions, and in less than three minutes none remained on the ground 
 but the two he had collared. 
 
 Washington's last accounts of the movements of Arnold, left 
 him at Point Levi, opposite to Quebec. Something brilliant from 
 that daring officer was anticipated. It was his intention to cross 
 the river immediately. Had he done so, he might have carried 
 the town by a coup de main; for terror as well as disaffection pre- 
 vailed among the inhabitants. At Point Levi, however, he was 
 brought to a stand : not a boat was to be found there. Letters 
 which he had dispatched some days previously, by two Indians, to 
 Generals Schuyler and Montgomery, had been carried by his faith- 
 less messengers to Caramhe, the lieuteiiant-governor, who, thus 
 
1775] ALARM IN QUEBEC, '^205 
 
 apprised of the impending danger, had caused all the boats of Point 
 Levi to be either removed or destroyed, Arnold was not a man 
 to be disheartened by difficulties. With great exertions he pro- 
 cured about forty birch canoes from the Canadians and Indians, 
 with forty of the latter to navigate them ; but stomiy winds arose, 
 and for some days the river was too boisterous for such frail craft. 
 In the mean time the garrison at Quebec was gaining strength. 
 The prospect of a successful attack upon the place was growing 
 desperate. 
 
 On the 13th of November, Arnold received intelligence that 
 Montgomery had captured St. Johns. He was instantly roused to 
 emulation. His men, too, were inspirited by the news. The wind 
 had abated: he determined to cross the river that very night. At 
 a late hour in the evening he embarked with the first division, 
 principally riflemen. The river was wide ; the current rapid; the 
 birch canoes, easy to be upset, required skilful management. By 
 four o'clock in the morning, a large part of his force had crossed 
 without being perceived, and landed about a mile and a half above 
 Cape Diamond, at Wolfe's Cove, so called from being the landing- 
 place of that gallant commander. Without waiting the arrival of 
 the residue of his men, for whom the canoes had been dispatched, 
 Arnold led those who had landed to the foot of the cragged defile, 
 once scaled by the intrepid W^olfe, and scrambled up it in all haste. 
 By daylight he had planted his daring flag on the far-famed Heights 
 of Abraham. Here the main difficulty stared him in the face. A 
 strong line of walls and bastions traversed the promontory from 
 one of its precipitous sides to the other; inclosing the upper and 
 lower towns. On the right, the great bastion of Cape Diamond 
 crowned the rocky height of that name. On the left was the bas- 
 tion of La Potasse, close by the gate of St. Johns opening upon the 
 barracks; the gate where Wolfe's antagonist, the gallant Montcalm, 
 received his death wound. A council of war was now held. Arnold, 
 who had some knowledge of the place, was for dashing forward at 
 once and storming the gate of St. Johns. Had they done so, they 
 might have been successful. The gate was open and unguarded. 
 The formidable aspect of the place, however, awed Arnold's asso- 
 ciates in council. They considered that their whole force was but 
 between seven and eight hundred men; that nearly one-third of 
 their fire-arms had been rendered useless, and much of their 
 ammunition damaged in their march through the wilderness; they 
 had no artillery, and the fortress looked too strong to be carried 
 by a coup de main. Cautious counsel is often fatal to a daring 
 enterprise. While the council of war deliberated, the favorable 
 moment passed away. The din of arms now resounded through 
 the streets. The cry was up — "The enemy are on the Heights of 
 Abraham! The gate of St. Johns is open! " There was an attempt 
 to shut it. The keys were not to be found. It was hastily secured 
 by ropes and handspikes, and the walls looking upon the heights 
 were soon manned by the military, and thronged by the populace. 
 Arnold paraded his men within a hundred yards of the walls, and 
 caused them to give three hearty cheers ; hoping to excite a revolt 
 
2o6 "^LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 in the place, or to provoke the scanty garrison to a sally. There 
 were a few scattered cheerings in return ; but the taunting bravado 
 failed to produce a sortie ; the governor dared not venture beyond 
 the walls with part of his garrison, having too httle confidence in 
 the loyalty of those who would remain behind. There was some 
 firing on the part of the Americans, but merely as an additional 
 taunt; they were too far off" for their musketry to have effect. A 
 large cannon on the ramparts was brought to bear on them. A 
 few shots obliged the Americans to retire and encamp. Several 
 days elapsed. Arnold's flags of truce were repeatedly insulted, 
 but he saw the futihty of resenting it, and attacking the place with 
 his present means. He heard about the same time of the capture 
 of Montreal, and that General Carleton, having escaped from that 
 place, was on his way down to Quebec. He. therefore, drew off 
 on the 19th to Point aux Trembles (Aspen-tree Point), twenty 
 miles above ()uebec, there to await the arrival of General Mont- 
 gomery with troops and artillery. As his little army wended its 
 way along the high bank of the river toward its destined encamp- 
 ment, a vessel passed below, which had just touched at Point aux 
 Trembles. On board of it was General Carleton, hurrying on to 
 Quebec. 
 
 Of the constant anxiety, yet enduring hope, with which Washing- 
 ton watched this hazardous enterprise, we have evidence in his 
 various letters. To Arnold, when at Point Levi, baffled in the 
 expectation of finding the means of making a dash upon Quebec, 
 he writes: •' It is not in the power of any man to command suc- 
 cess, but you have done more, you have deserved it; and before 
 this time (Dec. 5th), I have no doubt but a junction of your detach- 
 ment with the army under General Montgomery is effected. If so, 
 you will put yourself under his command and will, I am persuaded, 
 give him all the assistance in your power, to finish the glorious 
 work you have begun." 
 
 In the month of December a vessel had been captured, bearing 
 supplies from Lord Dunmore to the army at Boston. A letter on 
 board, from his lordship to General Howe, invited him to transfer 
 the war to the southern colonies; or, at all events, to send reinforce- 
 ments thither; intimating at the same time his plan of proclaiming 
 liberty to indentured servants, negroes, and others appertaining to 
 rebels, and inviting them to join his majesty's troops. In a word 
 — to inflict upon Virginia the horrors of a servile war. "If this 
 man is not crushed before spring," writes Washington, "he will 
 become the most formidable enemy America has. His strength 
 will increase as a snowball. Motives of resentment actuate his 
 conduct to a degree equal to the destruction of the colony." 
 
 December had been throughout a month of severe trial to Wash- 
 ington; during which he saw his army dropping away piece-meal 
 before his eyes. Scarce could the disbanding troops be kept a few 
 days in camp until militia could be procured to supply their place. 
 He made repeated and animated appeals to their patriotism ; they 
 were almost unheeded. He caused popular and patriot songs to 
 be sung about the camp. They passed by like the idle wind. 
 
1776.] WASHINGTON'S PERPLEXITIES. 207 
 
 Home ! tiome! home! throbbed in every heart. "The desire of 
 retiring into a chimney-corner," says Washington reproachfully, 
 "seized the troops as soon as their terms expired." Can we 
 wonder at it? They were for the most part yeomanry, unused to 
 military restraint, and suffering all the hardships of a starveling 
 camp, almost within sight of the smpke of their own firesides. 
 
 Greene, throughout this trying month, was continually by Wash- 
 ington's side. His letters expressing the same cares and appre- 
 hensions, and occasionally in the same language with those of the 
 commander-in-chief, show how completely he was in his councils. 
 He could well sympathize with him in his solicitudes. Some of his 
 own Rhode Island troops were with Arnold in his Canada expedi- 
 tion. Others encamped on Prospect Hill, and whose order and 
 discipline had been his pride, were evincing the prevalent disposi- 
 tion to disband. " They seem to be so sick of this way of life, and 
 so homesick," writes he, " that I fear the greater part of the best 
 troops from our colony will soon go home." 
 
 The thirty-first of December arrived, the crisis of the army; for 
 with that month expired the last of the old terms of enlistment. 
 "We never have been so weak." writes Greene, '* as we shall be 
 to-morrow, when we dismiss the old troops." On this day Wash- 
 ington received cheering intelligence from Canada. A junction 
 had taken place, a month previously, between Arnold and Mont- 
 gomery at Point aux Trembles. They were about two thousand 
 strong, and were making every preparation for attacking Quebec. 
 
 January ist, 1776, Washington's army did not amount to ten 
 thousand men, and was composed of but half-filled regiments. 
 Even in raising this inadequate force, it had been necessary to 
 indulge many of the men with furloughs, that they might visit their 
 famihes and friends. The expedients resorted to in equipping the 
 army show the prevailing lack of arms. Those soldiers who 
 retired from service were obliged to leave their weapons for their 
 successors; receiving their appraised value. Those who enlisted, 
 were required to bring a gun, or were charged a dollar for the use 
 of one during the campaign. He who brought a blanket was 
 allowed two dollars. It was impossible to furnish uniforms ; the 
 troops, therefore, presented a motley appearance, in garments of 
 divers cuts and colors; the price of each man's garb being deducted 
 from his pay. The anxiety of Washington, in this critical state of 
 the army, may be judged from his correspondence with Reed. "It 
 is easier to conceive than to describe the situation of my mind for 
 some time past, and my feelings under our present circumstances," 
 writes he on the 4th of January. "Search the volumes of history 
 through, and I much question whether a case similar to ours is to 
 be found; namely, to maintain a post against the power of the 
 British troops for six months together, without powder, and then to 
 have one army disbanded and another raised within the same dis- 
 tance (musket shot) of a reinforced enemy. What may be the 
 issue of the last maneuver, time only can unfold." What can be 
 more touching than the picture he draws of himself and his lonely 
 vigils about his sleeping camp? " The reflection on my situation 
 
2o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and that of this army produces many an unhappy hour when all 
 around me are wrapped in sleep. Few people know the predica- 
 ment Ave are in on a thousand accounts; fewer still will believe, if 
 any disaster happens to these hnes, from what cause it flows. I 
 have often thought how much happier I should have been, if, 
 mstead of accepting the comm'and, under such circumstances, I 
 had taken my musket on my shoulder and entered the ranks; or, 
 if I could have justified the measure to posterity and my own con- 
 science, had retired to the back country and hved in a wigwam. 
 If I shall be able to rise superior to these and many other difficulties, 
 which might be enumerated, I shall most religiously believe that 
 the finger of Providence is in it, to bhnd the eyes of our enemies ; 
 for surely if we get well through this month, it must be for want of 
 their knowing the disadvantages which we labor under." Recur- 
 ring to the project of an attack upon Boston, which he had reluct- 
 antly abandoned in deference to the adverse opinions of a council 
 of war — " Could I have foreseen the difficulties which have come 
 upon us; could I have known that such a backwardness would 
 have been discovered among the old soldiers to the service, all the 
 generals upon earth should not have convinced me of the propriety 
 of delaying an attack upon Boston till this time. In the midst of 
 his discouragements, Washington received letters from Knox, show- 
 ing the spirit and energy with which he was executing his mission, 
 in quest of cannon and ordnance stores. He had struggled man- 
 fully and successfully with all kinds of difficulties, from the 
 advanced season, and head winds, in getting them from Ticonder- 
 oga to the head of Lake George. "Three days ago," writes he, 
 on the 17th of December, "it was very uncertain whether we could 
 get them over until next spring; but now, please God, they shall 
 go. I have made forty-two exceedingly strong sleds, and have 
 provided eighty yoke of oxen to drag them as far as Springfield, 
 where I shall get fresh cattle to take them to camp." It was thus 
 that hardships and emergencies were bringing out the merits of the 
 self-made soldiers of the Revolution ; and showing their com- 
 mander-in-chief on whom he might rely. 
 
 On the 1 8th of January came dispatches from General Schuyler, 
 containing withering tidings. Montgomery on the 2d of Deceni- 
 ber, the day after his arrival at Point aux Trembles, set off in 
 face of a driving snow-storm for Quebec, and arrived before it on 
 the 5th. According to his own account, his whole force did not 
 exceed nine hundred effective men, three hundred of whom he 
 had brought with him ; the rest he found with Col. Arnold. The 
 latter he pronounced an exceeding fine corps, inured to fatigue, 
 and well accustomed to a cannon shot, having served at Cam- 
 bridge. On the day of his arrival, he sent a flag with a summons 
 to surrender. It was fired upon, and obliged to retire. He now 
 prepared for an attack. The ground was frozen to a great depth, 
 and covered with snow ; he was scantily provided with intrenching 
 tools, and had only a field train of artillery, and a few mortars. 
 By dint of excessive labor a breast-work was thrown up, four hun- 
 dred yards distant from the walls and opposite to the gate of St. 
 
I 'J^6. ] MONTGOMER Y A TTA CKS Q UEBEC. 209 
 
 Louis, which is nearly in the center. It was formed of gabions, 
 ranged side by side, and filled with snow, over which water was 
 thrown until thoroughly frozen. Here Captain Lamb mounted five 
 light pieces and a howitzer and opened a well-sustained and well- 
 directed fire upon the walls, but his field pieces were too light to 
 be effective. With his howitzer he threw shells into the town and 
 set it on fire in several places. For five days and nights the gar- 
 rison was kept on the alert by the teasing fire of this battery. 
 The object of Montgomery was to harass the town and increase 
 the dissatisfaction of the inhabitants. On the evening of the fifth 
 day, he paid a visit to the ice battery. The heavy artillery from 
 the wall had repaid its ineffectual fire with ample usury. The brit- 
 tle ramparts had been shivered hke glass ; several of the guns had 
 been rendered useless. The general saw the insufficiency of the 
 battery, and, on retiring, gave Captain Lamb permission to leave 
 it whenever he thought proper. The veteran waited until after 
 dark, when, securing all the guns, he abandoned the ruined re- 
 doubt. The general in this visit was attended by Aaron Burr, 
 whom he had appointed his aide-de-camp. The perfect coolness 
 and .self-possession with which the youth mingled in this dangerous 
 scene, and the fire which sparkled in his eye, soon convinced 
 Lamb, according to his own account, that " the young volunteer 
 was no ordinary man." 
 
 Nearly three weeks had been consumed in these futile opera- 
 tions. The army ill-clothed and ill-provided, was becoming im- 
 patient of the rigors of a Canadian winter ; the term for which part 
 of the troops had enlisted would expire with the year, and they 
 already talked of returning home. Montgomery was sadly con- 
 scious of the insufficiency of his means; still he could not endure 
 the thoughts of retiring from before the place without striking a 
 blow. He determined, therefore, to attempt to carry the place by 
 escalade, and on the 31st of December at two o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, the troops repaired to their several destinations, under cover 
 of a violent snow-storm. Montgomery led his division along the 
 shore of the St. Lawrence, round the beetling promontory of Cape 
 Diamond. The narrow approach to the lower town in that direc- 
 tion was traversed by a picket or stockade, defended by Canadian 
 militia ; beyond which was a second defence, a kind of block- 
 house, forming a battery of small pieces, manned by Canadian 
 militia, and a few seamen, and commanded by the captain of 
 a transport. The aim of Montgomery was to come upon these 
 barriers by surprise. The pass which they defended is formidable 
 at all times, having a swift river on one side, and over-hanging 
 precipices on the other ; but at this time was rendered pecuharly 
 difficult by drifting snow, and by great masses of ice piled on each 
 other at the foot of the chffs. The troops made their way painfully, 
 in extended and straggling files, along the narrow footway, and 
 over the slippery piles of ice. Among the foremost, were some of 
 the first New York regiment, led on by Captain Cheeseman. 
 Montgomery, who was famihar with them, urged them on. " For- 
 ward, men of New York ! " cried he. " You are not the men to 
 
2IO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 flinch when your general leads you on!" In his eagerness, he 
 threw himself far in the advance, with his pioneers and a few offi- 
 cers, and made a dash at the first barrier. The Canadians sta- 
 tioned there, taken by surprise, made a few random shots, then 
 threw down their muskets and fled. Montgomery sprang forward, 
 aided with his own hand to pluck down the pickets which the 
 pioneers were sawing, and having made a breach sufficiently wide 
 to admit three or four men abreast, entered sword in hand, fol- 
 lowed by his staff. Captain Cheeseman, and some of his men. The 
 Canadians had fled from the picket to the battery or block-house, 
 but seemed to have carried the panic with them, for the battery 
 remained silent. Montgomery felt for a moment as if the surprise 
 had been complete. He paused in the breach to rally on the 
 troops, who were stumbUng along the difficult pass. " Push on, 
 my brave boys," cried he, " (2uebec is ours! " He again dashed 
 forward, but, when within forty paces of the battery, a discharge 
 of grape-shot from a single cannon, made deadly havoc. Mont- 
 gomery, and McPherson, one of his aides, were killed on the spot. 
 Captain Cheeseman, who was leading on his New Yorkers, 
 received a canister shot through the body ; made an effort to rise 
 and push forward, but fell back a corpse ; with him fell his orderly 
 sergeant and several of his men. This fearful slaughter, and the 
 death of their general, threw everything in confusion. The officer 
 next in lineal rank to the general, was far in the -rear ; in this 
 emergency, Colonel Campbell, quartermaster-general, took the 
 command, but, instead of rallying the men, and endeavoring to 
 effect the junction with Arnold, ordered a retreat, and abandoned 
 the half-won field, leaving behind him the bodies of the slain. 
 
 While all this was occurring on the side of Cape Diamond, Ar- 
 nold led his division against the opposite side of the lower lown 
 along the suburb and street of St. Roque. Like Montgomery, he 
 took the advance at the head of a forlorn hope of twenty-five men. 
 Captain Lamb and his artillery company came next, with a field- 
 piece mounted on a sledge. Then came a company with ladders and 
 scahng implements, followed by Morgan and his riflemen. In the 
 rear of all these came the main body. The troops, as they strag- 
 gled along in lengthened file through the drifting snow, were sadly 
 galled by a flanking fire on the right, from walls and pickets. The. 
 field-piece at length became so deeply embedded in a snow-drift, 
 that it could not be moved. Lamb sent word to Arnold of the 
 impediment ; in the mean time, he and his artillery company were 
 brought to a halt. The company with the scaling ladders would 
 have halted also, having been told to keep in the rear of the 
 artillery ; but they were urged on by Morgan with a thundering 
 oath, who pushed on after them with his riflemen, the artillery 
 company opening to the right and left to let them pass. They 
 arrived in the advance, just as Arnold was leading on his forlorn 
 hope to attack the barrier. Before he reached it. a severe wound 
 in the right leg with a musket ball completely disabled him, and 
 he had to be borne from the field. Morgan instantly took the 
 command. Just then Lamb came up with his company, armed 
 
1776.] FAILURE TO TAKE QUEBEC. 211 
 
 with muskets and bayonets, having received orders to abandon 
 the field-piece, and support the advance. There was a discharge 
 of grape-shot when the assailants were close under the muzzles of 
 the guns, yet but one man was killed. Before there could be a 
 second discharge, the battery was carried by assault, some firing 
 into the embrasures ; others scaling the walls. The captain and 
 thirty of his men were taken prisoners. The day was just dawn- 
 ing as Morgan led on to attack the second barrier, and his men 
 had to advance under a fire from the town walls on their right, 
 which incessantly thinned their ranks. The second barrier was 
 reached ; they applied their scaling ladders to storm it. The 
 defence was brave and obstinate, but the defenders were at length 
 driven from their guns, and the battery was gained. At the last 
 moment one of the gunners ran back, linstock in hand, to give one 
 more shot. Captain Lamb snapped a fusee at him. It missed 
 fire. The cannon was discharged, and a grape-shot wounded 
 Lamb in the head, carrying away part of the cheek bone. He 
 was borne off senseless, to a neighboring shed. 
 
 The two barriers being now taken, the way on this side into the 
 lower town seemed open. Morgan prepared to enter it with the 
 victorious vanguard : first stationing Capt. Dearborn and some 
 provincials at Palace Gate, which opened down into the defile from 
 the upper town. By this time, however, the death of Montgomery 
 and retreat of Campbell had enabled the enemy to turn all their 
 attention in this direction. A large detachment sent by Gen. Carle- 
 ton, sallied out of Palace Gate after Morgan had passed it, surprised 
 and captured Dearborn and the guard, and completely cut off the 
 advance party. The main body, informed of the death of Mont- 
 gomery, and giving up the game as lost, retreated to the camp, 
 leaving behind the field-piece which Lamb's company had 
 abandoned, and the mortars in the battery of St. Roque. Morgan 
 and his men were now hemmed in on all sides, and obliged to take 
 refuge in a stone house, from the inveterate fire which assailed them. 
 From the windows of this house they kept up a desperate defence, 
 until cannon were brought to bear upon it. Then, hearing of the 
 death of Montgomery, and seeing that there was no prospect of 
 relief, Morgan and his gallant handful of followers were compelled 
 to surrender themselves prisoners of war. 
 
 Thus foiled at every point, the wreck of the httle army abandoned 
 their camp, and retreated about three miles from the town, where 
 they hastily fortified themselves. The remains of the gallant Mont- 
 gomery received a soldier's grave, within the fortifications of 
 Quebec, by the care of Cramahe, the lieutenant-governor, who had 
 formerly known him. Arnold, wounded and disabled, had been 
 assisted back to the camp, dragging one foot after the other for 
 nearly a mile in" great agony, and exposed continually to the musketry 
 from the walls at fifty yards' distance, which shot down several men 
 at his side. He trook temporary command of the shattered army 
 until Gen. Wooster should arrive from Montreal, to whom he sent 
 an express, urging him to bring on succor. "On this occasion," 
 says a contemporary writer, " he discovered the utmost vigor of a 
 
212 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 determined mind, and a genius full of resources. Defeated and 
 wounded, as he was, he put his troops into such a situation as to 
 keep them still formidable. With a mere handful of men, at one 
 time not exceeding five hundred, he maintained a blockade of the 
 strong fortress from which he had just been repulsed. " I have no 
 thoughts," writes he, " of leaving this proud town until I enter it 
 in triumph. I am i?i the way of my duty^ and I know no fear ! " 
 Happy for him had he fallen at this moment. — Happy for him had 
 he found a soldier's and a patriot's grave, beneath the rock-built 
 walls of Quebec. Those walls would have remained enduring 
 monuments of his renown. His name, like that of Montgomery, 
 would have been treasured up among the dearest though most 
 mournful recollections of his country, and that country would have 
 been spared the single traitorous blot that dims the bright page of 
 its revolutionary history. 
 
 General Schuyler, who was now in Albany, urged the necessity 
 of an immediate reinforcement of three thousand men for the army 
 in Canada. Washington had not a man to spare from the army 
 before Boston. He applied, therefore, on his own responsibility, to 
 Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Connecticut, for three regi- 
 ments, which were granted. His prompt measure recieved the 
 approbation of Congress. Sohcitude was avvkened about the in- 
 terior of the province of New York. Arms and ammunition were 
 said to be concealed in Tryon County, and numbers of the tories 
 in that neighborhood preparing for hostilities. Sir John Johnson 
 had fortified Johnson Hall, gathered about him his Scotch High- 
 land tenants and Indian allies, and it was rumored he intended to 
 carry fire and sword along the valley of the Mohawk. Schuyler, 
 forthwith hastened from Albany, at the head of a body of soldiers; 
 was joined by Colonel Herkimer, with the militia of Tryon County 
 marshaled forth on the frozen bosom of the Mohawk River, and 
 appeared before Sir John's stronghold, near Johnstown, on the 19th 
 of January. Thus beleaguered, Sir John, after much negotiation, 
 capitulated. He was to surrender all weapons of war and mihtary 
 stores in his possession, and to give his parole not to take arms 
 against America. On these conditions he was to be at Hberty to go 
 as far westward in Tryon County as the German Flats and Kings- 
 land districts and to every part of the colony to the southward and 
 eastward of these districts ; provided he did not go into any sea- 
 port town. The capitulation being adjusted, Schuyler ordered his 
 troops to be drawn up in Hne at noon (Jan. 20), between his quarters 
 and the Court House, to receive the surrender of the Highlanders, 
 enjoining profound silence on his officers and men, when the sur- 
 render should be made. Everything was conducted with great re- 
 gard to the feelings of Sir John's Scottish adherents ; they marched 
 to the front, grounded their arms, and were dism'issed with ex- 
 hortations to good behavior. 
 
 The siege of Boston continued through the winter, without any 
 striking incident to enliven its monotony. The British remained 
 within their works, leaving the beleaguering army slowly to aug- 
 ment its forces. The country was dissatisfied with the inaction of 
 
1776.] THE ARMY BEFORE BOSTON. 213 
 
 the latter. Even Congress was anxious for some successful blow 
 that might revive popular enthusiasm. Washington shared this 
 anxiety, and had repeatedly, in councils of -svar, suggested an 
 attack upon the town, but had found a majority of his general 
 officers opposed to it. He had hoped some favorable opportunity 
 would present, when, the harbor being frozen, the troops might 
 approach the town upon the ice. The winter, however, though 
 severe at first, proved a mild one, and the bay continued open. 
 General Putnam, in the mean time, having completed the new 
 works at Lechmere Point, and being desirous of keeping up the 
 spirit of his men, resolved to treat them to an exploit. Accordingly, 
 from his "impregnable fortress" of Cobble Hill, he detached a 
 party of about two hundred, under his favorite officer. Major 
 Knowlton, to surprise and capture a British guard stationed at 
 Charlestown. It was a daring enterprise, and executed with 
 spirit. As Charlestown Neck was completely protected, Knowlton 
 led his men across the mill-dam, round the base of the hill, and 
 immediately below the fort ; set fire to the guard-house and some 
 buildings in its vicinity ; made several prisoners, and retired with- 
 out loss ; although thundered upon by the cannon of the fort. 
 
 The condition of the besieged town was daily becoming more 
 and more distressing. The inhabitants were without flour, pulse, 
 or vegetables ; the troops were nearly as destitute. There was a 
 lack of fuel, too, as well as food. The small-pox broke out, and it 
 was necessary to inoculate the army. Men, women and children 
 either left the city voluntarily, or were sent out of it ; yet the dis- 
 tress increased. Washington still adhered to his opinion in favor 
 of an attempt upon the town. He was aware that it would be 
 attended with considerable loss, but believed it would be success- 
 ful if the men should behave well. His proposition was too bold 
 for the field-officers assembled in council (Feb. 16th), who objected 
 that there was not force, nor arms and ammunition sufficient in 
 camp for such an attempt. Washington acquiesced in the decision, 
 it being almost unanimous ; yet he felt the irksomeness of his 
 situation. "To have the eyes of the whole continent," said he, 
 "fixed with anxious expectation of hearing of some great event, 
 and to be restrained in every military operation for want of the 
 necessary means of carrying it on is not very pleasing, especially 
 as the means used to conceal my weakness from the enemy, con- 
 ceal it also from our friends and add to their wonder." 
 
 At length the camp was rejoiced by the arrival of Colonel Knox 
 with his long train of sledges drawn by oxen, bringing more than 
 fifty cannon, mortars, and howitzers, beside supplies of lead and 
 flints. The zeal and perseverance which he had displayed in his 
 wintry expedition across frozen lakes and snowy wastes, and the 
 intelligence with which he had fulfilled his instructions, ^'on him 
 the entire confidence of Washington. His conduct in this enter- 
 prise was but an earnest of that energy and ability which he dis- 
 played throughout the war. Further ammunition being received 
 from the royal arsenal at New York and other quarters, and a 
 reinforcement of ten regiments of militia, Washington no longer 
 
214 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 met with opposition to his warhke measures. Lechmere Point, 
 which Putnam had fortified, was immediately to be supphed with 
 mortars and heavy cannon, so as to command Boston on the north ; 
 and Dorchester Heights, on the south of the town, were forthwith 
 to be taken possession of. " If anything," said Washington, " will 
 induce the enemy to hazard an engagement, it will be our attempt- 
 ing to fortify those heights, as, in that event taking place, we shall 
 be able to command a great part of the town, and almost the 
 whole harbor." 
 
 He was painfully aware how much depended upon the success 
 of this attempt. There was a cloud of gloom and distrust lowering 
 upon the public mind. Danger threatened on the north and on the 
 south. Montgomery had fallen before the walls of Quebec. The 
 army in Canada was shattered. Tryon andthe tories were plotting 
 mischief in New York. Dunmore was harassing the lower part of 
 Virginia, and CUnton and his fleet were prowhng along the coast, 
 on a secret errand of mischief. Washington's general orders 
 evince the solemn and anxious state of his feelings. In those of 
 the 26th of February, he forbade all playing at cards and other 
 games of chance. " At this time of pubhc distress," writes he, 
 " men may find enough to do in the service of God and their 
 country, without abandoning themselves to vice and immorality. 
 It is a noble cause we are engaged in ; it is the cause of virtue and 
 mankind ; every advantage and comfort to us and our posterity 
 depend upon the vigor of our exertions ; in short, freedom or 
 slavery must be the result of our conduct; there can, therefore, be 
 no greater inducement to men to behave well. But it may not be 
 amiss to the troops to know, that, if any man in action shall pre- 
 sume to skulk, hide himself, or retreat from the enemy without the 
 orders of his commanding officer, he will be instantly shot down as 
 an example of cowardice ; cowards having too frequently discon- 
 certed the best formed troops by their dastardly behavior." 
 
 The evening of Monday the 4th of March was fixed upon for 
 the occupation of Dorchester Heights. The ground was frozen 
 too hard to be easily intrenched ; fascines therefore and gabions 
 and bundles of screwed hay were collected during the two preced- 
 ing nights with which to form breastworks and redoubts. During 
 these two busy nights the enemy's batteries were cannonaded and 
 bombarded from opposite points to occupy their attention and pre- 
 vent their noticing these preparations. They replied with spirit, 
 and the incessant roar of artillery thus kept up, covered completely 
 the rumbling of wagons and ordnance. 
 
 The wife of John Adams, who resided in the vicinity of the 
 American camp, and knew that a general action was meditated, 
 expresses in a letter to her husband the feelings of a patriot woman 
 during the suspense of these nights. '• I have been in a constant 
 state of anxiety, since you left me," writes she on Saturday. " It 
 has been said to-morrow, and to-morrow for this month, and when 
 the dreadful to-morrow will be, I know not. But hark ! The house 
 this instant shakes with the roar of cannon. I have been to the 
 door, and find it is a cannonade from our army. Orders, I find. 
 
1776.] DORCHESTER HEIGHTS FORTIFIED. 215 
 
 are come, for all the remaining militia to repair to the lines Mon- 
 day night, by twelve o'clock. No sleep for me to-night." 
 
 On Monday, the appointed evening, she continues: "I have 
 just returned from Penn's Hill, where I have been sitting to hear 
 the amazing roar of cannon, and from whence I could see every 
 shell which was thrown. The sound, I think, is one of the grand- 
 est in nature, and is of the true species of the sublime. 'Tis now 
 an incessant roar ; but oh, the fatal ideas which are connected with 
 the sound ! How many of our dear countrymen must fall ! " 
 
 On the Monday evening thus graphically described, as soon as 
 the firing commenced, the detachment under General Thomas set 
 out on its cautious and secret march from the lines of Roxbury and 
 Dorchester. Fortunately, although the moon, as Washington 
 writes, was shining in its full lustre, the flash and roar of cannonry 
 from opposite points, and the bursting of bomb-shells high in the 
 air, so engaged and diverted the attention of the enemy, that the 
 detachment reached the heights about eight o'clock, without being 
 heard or perceived. The working party commenced to fortify, 
 under the directions of Gridley, the veteran engineer, who had 
 planned the works on Bunker's Hill. It was severe labor, for the 
 earth was frozen eighteen inches deep ; but the men worked with 
 more than their usual spirit ; for the eye of the commander-in-chief 
 was upon them. Though not called there by his duties, Washing- 
 ton could not be absent from this eventful operation. An eloquent 
 orator (Edward Everett, at Dorchester, July 4th, 1855), has imag- 
 ined his situation — "All around him intense movement; while 
 nothing was to be heard excepting the tread of busy feet, and the 
 dull sound of the mattock upon the frozen soil. Beneath him the 
 slumbering batteries of the castle ; the roadsteads and harbor filled 
 with the vessels of the royal fleet, motionless, except as they swung 
 round at their moorings at the turn of the midnight tide ; the beleag- 
 uered city occupied with a powerful army, and a considerable 
 non-combatant population, startled into unnatural vigilance by the 
 incessant and destructive cannonade, yet unobservant of the great 
 operations in progress so near them ; the surrounding country, 
 dotted with a hundred rural settlements, roused from the deep sleep 
 of a New England village, by the unwonted glare and tumult," 
 The same plastic fancy suggests the crowd of visions, phantoms of 
 the past, which may have passed through Washington's mind, on 
 this night of feverish excitement. " His early training in the wil- 
 derness ; his escape from drowning, and the deadly rifle of the 
 savage in the perilous mission to Venango ; the shower of iron hail 
 through which he rode unharmed on Braddock's field ; the early 
 stages of the great conflict now brought to its crisis, and still more 
 solemnly, the possibihties of the future for himself and for America 
 . — the ruin of the patriot cause if he failed at the outset ; the tri- 
 umphant consolidation of the Revolution if he prevailed." 
 
 The labors of the night were carried on by the Americans with 
 their usual activity and address. When a relief party arrived at 
 lour o'clock in the morning, two forts were in sufficient forward- 
 ness to furnish protection against small-arms and grapeshot ; and 
 
2i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 such use was made of fascines and bundles of screwed hay, that, 
 at dawn, a formidable-looking fortress frowned along the height. 
 We have the testimony of a British officer for the fact. " This 
 morning at daybreak we discovered two redoubts on Dorchester 
 Point, and two smaller ones on their flanks. They were all raised 
 during the last night, with an expedition equal to that of the genii 
 belonging to Aladdin's wonderful lamp. From these hills they 
 command the whole town, so that we must drive them from their 
 posts, or desert the place." Howe gazed at the mushroom fortress 
 with astonishment, as it loomed indistinctly, but grandly, through a 
 morning fog. "The rebels," exclaimed he, "have done more 
 work in one night, than my whole army would have done in one 
 month.'* 
 
 An American, who was on Dorchester Heights, gives a picture 
 of the scene. A tremendous cannonade was commenced from the 
 forts in Boston, and the shipping in the harbor. "Cannon shot," 
 writes he, "are continually rolling and rebounding over the hill, 
 and it is astonishing to observe how little our soldiers are terrified 
 by thern. The royal troops are perceived to be in motion, as if 
 embarking to pass the harbor and land on Dorchester shore, to 
 attack our works. The hills and elevations in this vicinity are cov- 
 ered with spectators to witness deeds of horror in the expected 
 conflict. His excellency. General Washington, is present, animat- 
 ing and encouraging the soldiers, and they in return manifest their 
 joy ; and express a warm desire for the approach of the enemy ; 
 each man knows his own place. Our breast-works are strength- 
 ened, and among the means of defence are a great number of bar- 
 rels, filled with stones and sand, and arranged in front of our works, 
 which are to be put in motion, and made to roll down the hill, to 
 break the legs of the assailants as they advance." 
 
 General Thomas was reinforced with two thousand men. Old 
 Putnam stood ready to make a descent upon the north side of the 
 town, with his four thousand picked men, as soon as the heights on 
 the south should be assailed. As Washington rode about the 
 heights, he reminded the troops that it was the 5th of March, the 
 anniversary of the Boston massacre, and called on them to revenge 
 the slaughter of their brethren. They answered him with shouts. 
 
 Howe, in the mean time, was perplexed between his pride and 
 the hazards of his position. He must dislodge the Americans 
 from Dorchester Heights or evacuate Boston. In the evening the 
 British began to move. Twenty-five hundred men were embarked 
 in transports, which were to convey them to the rendezvous at Cas- 
 tle Williams. A violent storm set in from the east. The trans- 
 ports could not reach their place of destination. The men-of-war 
 could not cover and support them. A furious surf beat on the 
 shore where the boats would have to land. The attack was con- 
 sequently postponed until the following day. That day was equally 
 unpropitious. The storm continued with torrents of rain. The 
 attack was again postponed. In the mean time, the Americans 
 went on strengthening their works ; by the time the storm subsided. 
 General Howe deemed them too strong to be easily carried ; the 
 
I776.J THE BRITISH EVACUATE BOSTON. 217 
 
 attempt, therefore, was relinquished altogether. What was to be 
 done? The shells thrown from the heights into the town, proved 
 that it was no longer tenable. The fleet was equally exposed. 
 Admiral Shuldham, the successor to Graves, assured Howe that if 
 the Americans maintained possession of the heights, his ships 
 could not remain in the harbor. It was determined, therefore, in 
 a council of war, to evacuate the place as soon as possible. I3ut 
 now came on a humihating perplexity. The troops, in embarking, 
 would be exposed to a destructive fire. How was this to be pre- 
 vented? General Howe endeavored to work on the fears of the 
 Bostonians, by hinting that if his troops were molested while 
 embarking, he might be obliged to cover their retreat, by setting 
 fire to the town. 
 
 Daily preparations were now made by the enemy for departure. 
 By proclamation, the inhabitants, were ordered to deliver up all 
 linen and woolen goods, and all other goods, that, in possession of 
 the rebels, would aid them in carrying on the war. Crean Bush, a 
 New York tory, was authorized to take possession of such goods, 
 and put them on board of two of the transports. Under cover of 
 his commission, he and his myrmidons broke open stores, and 
 stripped them of their contents. Marauding gangs from the fleet 
 and army followed their example, and extended their depredations 
 to private houses. On the 14th, Howe, in a general order, 
 declared that the first soldier caught plundering should be 
 hanged on the spot. Still on the i6th houses were broken 
 open, goods destroyed, and furniture defaced by the troops. 
 For some days the embarkation of the troops was delayed by 
 adverse winds. Washington, who was imperfectly informed of 
 affairs in Boston, feared that the movements there might be a feint. 
 Determined to bring things to a crisis, he detached a force to 
 Nook's Hill on Saturday, the i6th, which threw up a breastwork in 
 the night regardless of the cannonading of the enemy. This com- 
 manded Boston Neck, and the south part of the town, and a 
 deserter brought a false report to the British that a general assault 
 was intended. The embarkation, so long delayed, began with 
 hurry and confusion at four o'clock in the morning. The harbor 
 of Boston soon presented a striking and tumultuous scene. There 
 were seventy-eight ships and transports casting loose for sea, and 
 eleven or twelve thousand men, soldiers, sailors, and refugees, 
 huiTying to embark ; many, especially of the latter, with their 
 families and personal effects. While this tumultuous embarkation 
 was going on, the Americans looked on in silence from their bat- 
 teries on Dorchester Heights, without firing a shot. " It was lucky 
 for the inhabitants now left in Boston, that they did not," writes a 
 British officer ; "for I am informed everything was prepared to set 
 the town in a blaze, had they fired one cannon." 
 
 At an early hour of the morning, the troops stationed at Cam- 
 bridge and Roxbury had paraded, and several regiments under 
 Putnam had embarked in boats, and dropped down Charles River, 
 to Sewall's Point, to watch the movements of the enemy by land 
 and water. About nine o'clock a large body of troops was seen 
 
2i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 marching down Bunker's Hill, while boats full of soldiers were put- 
 ting off for the shipping. Two scouts were sent from the camp to 
 reconnoiter. The works appeared still to be occupied, for sentries 
 were posted about them with shouldered muskets. Observing them 
 to be motionless, the scouts made nearer scrutiny, and discovered 
 them to be mere effigies, set up to delay the advance of the Ameri- 
 cans. Pushing on, they found the works deserted, and gave sig- 
 nal of the fact ; whereupon, a detachment was sent from the camp 
 to take possession. 
 
 By ten o'clock the enemy were all embarked and under way : 
 Putnam had taken command of the city, and occupied the impor- 
 tant points, and the flag of thirteen stripes, the standard of the 
 Union, floated above all the forts. On the following day, Wash- 
 ington himself entered the town, where he was joyfully welcomed. 
 He beheld around him sad traces of the devastation caused by 
 the bombardment, though not to the extent that he had appre- 
 hended. There were evidences, also, of the haste with which the 
 British had retreated — five pieces of ordnance with their trunnions 
 knocked off ; others hastily spiked ; others thrown off the wharf. 
 "General Howe's retreat," writes Washington, "was precipitate 
 beyond anything I could have conceived. The destruction of the 
 stores at Dunbar's camp, after Braddock's defeat, was but a faint 
 image of what may be seen at Boston ; artillery carts cut to pieces 
 in one place, gun carriages in another ; shells broke here, shots 
 buried there, and every thing carrying with it the face of disorder 
 and confusion, as also of distress." As the small-pox prevailed 
 in some parts of the town, precautions were taken by Washington 
 for its purification ; and the main body of the army did not march 
 in until the 20th. 
 
 Notwithstanding the haste with which the British army was 
 embarked, the fleet hngered for some days in Nantucket Road. 
 Apprehensive that the enemy, now that their forces were collected 
 in one body, might attempt by some blow to retrieve their late dis- 
 grace, Washington hastily threw up works on Fort Hill, which 
 commanded the harbor, and demolished those which protected the 
 town from the neighboring country. The fleet at length disappear- 
 ed entirely from the coast, and the deliverance of Boston was 
 assured. 
 
 The eminent services of Washington throughout this arduous 
 siege, his admirable management, by which, "in the course of a 
 few months, an undisciplined band of husbandmen became 
 soldiers, and were enabled to invest, for nearly a year, and finally 
 to expel a brave army of veterans, commanded by the most exper- 
 ienced generals," drew forth the enthusiastic applause of the 
 nation. No higher illustration of this great achievement need be 
 given, than the summary of it contained in the speech of a British 
 statesman, the Duke of Manchester, in the House of Lords. "The 
 army of Britain," said he, "equipped with every possible essential 
 of war ; a chosen army, with chosen officers, backed by the power 
 of a mighty fleet, sent to correct revolted subjects ; sent to chas- 
 tise a resisting city ; sent to assert Britain's authority ; — has, for 
 
1776.] SIR WILLIAM AND ADMIRAL HOWE. 219 
 
 many tedious months, been imprisoned within that town by the 
 Provincial army ; who, their watchful guards, permitted them no 
 inlet to the country ; who braved all their efforts, and defied all 
 their skill and ability in war could ever attempt. One way, 
 indeed, of escape was left ; the fleet is yet respected ; to the fleet 
 the army has recourse ; and British generals, whose name never 
 met with a blot of dishonor, are forced to quite that town which 
 was the first object of the war, the immediate cause of hostilities, 
 the place of arms, which has cost this nation more than a million 
 to defend." 
 
 We close this eventful chapter of Washington's history, with the 
 honor decreed to him by the highest authority of his country. On 
 motion of John Adams, who had first moved his nomination as 
 commander-in-chief, a unanimous vote of thanks to him was 
 passed in Congress; and it was ordered that a gold medal be 
 struck, commemorating the evacuation of Boston, bearing the 
 effigy of Washington as its deliverer. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OPERATIONS IN CANADA. 
 
 General Howe had steered for Halifax, there to wait the arrival 
 of strong reinforcements from England, and the fleet of his brother. 
 Admiral Lord Howe, who was to be commander-in-chief of the 
 naval forces on the North American station. It was thought these 
 brothers would cooperate admirably in the exercise of their relative 
 functions on land and water. Yet they were widely different in 
 their habits and dispositions. Sir William, easy, indolent, and self- 
 indulgent, "hated business," we are told, "and never did any. 
 Lord Howe loved it, dwelt upon it, never could leave it." Beside 
 his nautical commands, he had been treasurer of the navy, member 
 of the board of admiralty, and had held a seat in Parliament ; 
 where, according to Walpole, he was "silent as a rock," excepting 
 when naval affairs were under discussion ; when he spoke briefly 
 and to the point "My Lord Howe," said George II., " your life 
 has been a continued series of services to your country," He was 
 now about fifty-one years of age, tall, and well proportioned like 
 his brother ; but wanting his ease of deportment. His complexion 
 was dark, his countenance grave and strongly marked, and he 
 had a shy reserve, occasionally mistaken for haughtiness. As a 
 naval officer, he was esteemed resolute and enterprising, yet cool 
 and firm. In his younger days he had contracted a friendship for 
 Wolfe ; "it was like the union of cannon and gunpowder," said 
 Walpole. Howe, strong in mind, solid in judgment, firm of pur- 
 pose, was said to be the cannon ; Wolfe, quick in conception, 
 prompt in execution, impetuous in action — the gunpowder. 
 
220 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 General Lee was appointed to the command of the Southern de- 
 partment, where he was to keep watch upon the movements of Sir 
 Henry Clinton. He was somewhat dissatisfied with the change in 
 his destination. " As I am the only general officer on the conti- 
 tent." writes he to Washington, "who can speak or think in 
 French, I confess I think it would have been more prudent to have 
 sent me to Canada ; but I shall obey with alacrity, and I hope with 
 success." On his departure, Brig-Gen. Lord Stirling had remained 
 in temporary command at New York. Washington hastened de- 
 tachments thither under Generals Heath and Sullivan, and wrote 
 for three thousand additional men to be furnished by Connecticut. 
 The command of the whole he gave to Gen. Putnam, who was 
 ordered to fortify the city and the passes of the Hudson, according 
 to the plans of General Lee. The veteran Putnam put the city 
 under rigorous mihtary rule. The soldiers were to retire to their 
 barracks and quarters at the beating of the tattoo, and remain 
 there until the reveille in the morning. The inhabitants were sub- 
 jected to the same rule. None would be permitted to pass a sentry, 
 without the countersign, which would be furnished to them on ap- 
 plying to any of the brigade majors. All communication between 
 the " ministerial fleet" and shore was stopped ; the ships were no 
 longer to be furnished with provisions. Any person taken in the act 
 of holding communication with them would be considered an 
 enemy, and treated accordingly. 
 
 Washington came on by the way of Providence, Norwich and 
 New London, expediting the embarkation of troops from these 
 posts, and arrived at New York on the 13th of April. Many of the 
 works which Lee had commenced were by this time finished ; others 
 were in progress. It was apprehended the principal operations of 
 the enemy would be on Long Island, the high grounds of which, 
 in the neighborhood of Brooklyn, commanded the City. Washing- 
 ton saw that an able and efficient officer was needed at that place. 
 Greene was accordingly stationed there, with a division of the 
 army. He immediately proceeded to complete the fortifications of 
 that important post, and to make himself acquainted with the to- 
 pography, and the defensive points of the surrounding country. The 
 aggregate force distributed at several extensive posts in New York 
 and its environs, and on Long Island, Staten Island and elsewhere, 
 amounted to little more than ten thousand men ; some of those 
 were on the sick list, others absent on command, or on furlough ; 
 there were but about eight thousand available and fit for duty. 
 These, too, were without pay ; those recently enlisted, without 
 arms, and no one could say where arms were to be procured. 
 Washington saw the inadequacy of the force to the purposes re- 
 quired, and was full of solicitude about the security of a place, the 
 central point of the Confederacy, and the grand deposit of ordnance 
 and military stores. He was aware too, of the disaffection to the 
 cause among many of the inhabitants ; and apprehensive of 
 treachery. The process of fortifying the place had induced the ships 
 of war to fall down into the outer bay, within the Hook, upward of 
 twenty miles from the city ; but Governor Tryon was still on board 
 
1 776. J ENGLAND SUBSIDIES HESSIANS. 221 
 
 of one of them, keeping up an active correspondence with the 
 tories on Staten and Long Islands, and in other parts of the neigh- 
 borhood. Washington addressed an urgent letter to the committee 
 of safety, and procured the passage of a resolution prohibiting, 
 under severe penalties, all intercourse with the king's ships. In 
 addition to his cares about the security of New York, he had to 
 provide for the perilous exigencies of the army in Canada. Since 
 his arrival in the city, four regiments of troops, a company of rifle- 
 men and another of artificers had been detached under the com- 
 mand of Brigadier-General Thompson, and a further corps, of six 
 regiments under Brigadier-General Sullivan, with orders to join 
 General Thomas as soon as possible. 
 
 Washington at that time was not aware of the extraordinary ex- 
 pedients England had recently resorted to, against the next cam- 
 paign. The Duke of Brunswick, the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, 
 and the Hereditary Prince of Cassel, Count of Hanau, had been 
 subsidized to furnish troops to assist in the subjugation of her col- 
 onies. Four thousand three hundred Brunswick troops, and nearly 
 thirteen thousand Hessians, had entered the British service. Beside 
 the subsidy exacted by the German princes, they were to be paid 
 seven pounds four shiUings and four pence sterling for every soldier 
 furnished by them, and as much more for every one slain. 
 
 We left Arnold before the walls of Quebec, wounded, crippled, 
 almost disabled, yet not disheartened ; blockading that " proud 
 town" with a force inferior, by half, in number to that of the gar- 
 rison. Yox his gallant services. Congress promoted him in January 
 to the rank of brigadier-general. Throughout the winter he kept 
 up the blockade with his shattered army. Carleton remained 
 within his walls. He was sure of reinforcements from England in 
 the spring, and, in the mean time, trusted to the elements of dis- 
 solution at work in the besieging army. Arnold, in truth, had diffi- 
 culties of all kinds to contend with. His military chest was 
 exhausted ; his troops were in want of necessaries ; to procure sup- 
 plies, he was compelled to resort to the paper money issued by 
 Congress, which was uncurrent among the Canadians ; he issued 
 a proclamation making the refusal to take it in payment a penal 
 offence. This only produced irritation and disgust. As the terms 
 of their enlistment expired, his men claimed their discharge and 
 returned home. Sickness also thinned his ranks ; so that, at one 
 time, his force was reduced to five hundred men, and for two 
 months, with all his recruitments of raw militia, did not exceed 
 seven hundred. The failure of the attack on Quebec had weak- 
 ened the cause among the Canadians ; the peasantry had been dis- 
 pleased by the conduct of the American troops ; they had once 
 welcomed them as deliverers ; they now began to regard them as 
 intruders. The seigneurs, or noblesse, also, feared to give further 
 countenance to an invasion, which, if defeated, might involve 
 them in ruin. Notwithstanding all these discouragements, Arnold 
 still kept up a bold face ; cut off supplies occasionally, and har- 
 assed the place with alarms. Having repaired his batteries, he 
 opened a fire upon the town, but with httle effect ; the best part of 
 
222 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the artillerists, with Lamb, their capable commander, were prison- 
 ers within the walls. On the ist day of April, General Wooster 
 arrived from Montreal, with reinforcements, and took the com- 
 mand. The day after his arrival, Arnold, by the falling of his 
 horse, again received an injury on the leg recently wounded, and 
 was disabled for upward of a week. Considering himself slighted 
 by General Wooster, who did not consult him in military affairs, 
 he obtained leave of absence until he should be recovered from his 
 lameness, and repaired to Montreal, where he took command. 
 
 General Thomas who had been appointed to the command, 
 arrived at the camp in the course of April, and found the army in 
 a forlorn condition, scattered at different posts, and on the island 
 of Orleans. It was numerically increased to upward of two thous- 
 and men, but several hundred were unfit for service. The small- 
 pox had made great ravages. They had inoculated each other. 
 In their sick and debilitated state, they were without barracks, and 
 almost without medicine. The winter was over, the river was 
 breaking up, reinforcements to the garrison might immediately be 
 expected, and then the case would be desperate. Observing that 
 the river about Quebec was clear of ice. General Thomas deter- 
 mined on a bold effort. It was, to send up a fire-ship with the 
 flood, and, while the ships in the harbor were in flames, and the 
 town in confusion, to scale the walls. Accordingly, on the third 
 of May, the troops turned out with scaling ladders ; the fire-ship 
 came up the river under easy sail, and arrived near the shipping 
 before it was discovered. It was fired into. The crew applied a 
 slow match to the train and pulled off. The ship was soon in a 
 blaze, but the flames caught and consumed the sails ; her way was 
 checked, and she drifted off harmlessly with the ebbing tide. The 
 rest of the plan was, of course, abandoned. 
 
 Nothing now remained but to retreat before the enemy should 
 be reinforced. Preparations were made in all haste, to embark 
 the sick and the military stores. While this was taking place, five 
 ships made their way into the harbor, on the 6th of May, and 
 began to land troops. Thus reinforced. General Carleton sallied 
 forth, with eight hundred or a thousand men. The Americans 
 were in no condition to withstand his attack. They had no 
 intrenchments, and could not muster three hundred men at any 
 point. A precipitate retreat was the consequence, in which bag- 
 gage, artillery, everything was abandoned. Even the sick were 
 left behind ; many of whom crawled away from the camp hos- 
 pitals, and took refuge in the woods, or among the Canadian peas- 
 antry. General Carleton did not think it prudent to engage in a 
 pursuit with his newly-landed troops. He treated the prisoners 
 with great humanity, and caused the sick to be sought out in their 
 hiding-places, and brought to the general hospitals ; with assur- 
 ances that, when healed, they should have liberty to return to their 
 homes. 
 
 General Thomas came to a halt at Point Deschambault, about 
 sixty miles above Quebec, and called a council of war to consider 
 what was to be done. The enemy's ships were hastening up the 
 
1776.] PROCEEDINGS IN CONGRESS. 223 
 
 St. Lawrence ; some were already but two or three leagues distant. 
 The camp was without cannon ; powder, forwarded by General 
 Schuyler, had fallen into the enemy's hands ; there were not pro- 
 visions enough to subsist the army for more than two or three 
 days ; the men-of-war too, might run up the river, intercept all 
 their resources, and reduce them to the same extremity they had 
 experienced before Quebec. It was resolved, therefore, to ascend 
 the river still further. General Thomas, however, determined to 
 send forward the invalids, but to remain at Point Deschambault 
 with about five hundred men, until he should receive orders from 
 Montreal, and learn whether such supplies could be forwarded 
 immediately as would enable him to defend his position. 
 
 Washington received a summons to Philadelphia, to advise with 
 Congress concerning the opening campaign. He was informed 
 also that Gates, on the 16th of May, had been promoted to the 
 rank of major-general, and Mifflin to that of brigadier-general, 
 and a wish was intimated that they might take the command of 
 Boston. The general, accompanied by Mrs. Washington, departed 
 from New York on the 21st of May, and they were invited by Mr. 
 Hancock, the president of Congress, to be his guests during their 
 sojourn at Philadelphia. Washington, in his conferences with 
 Congress, expressed his conviction, that no accommodations could 
 be effected with Great Britain, on acceptable terms. Ministerialists 
 had declared in Parliament that, the sword being drawn, the most 
 coercive measures would be persevered in, until there was complete 
 submission. The recent subsidizing of foreign troops was a part 
 of this policy, and indicated unsparing hostility. A protracted 
 war, therefore, was inevitable ; but it would be impossible to carry 
 it on successfully, with the scanty force actually embodied, and 
 with transient enlistments of militia. In consequence of his repre- 
 sentations, resolutions were passed in Congress that soldiers should 
 be enlisted for three years, with a bounty of ten dollars for each 
 recruit ; that the army at New York should be reinforced until the 
 1st of December, with thirteen thousand eight hundred militia ; that 
 gondolas and fire-rafts should be bTJilt, to prevent the men-of-war 
 and enemy's ships from coming into New York Bay, or the Nar- 
 rows ; and that a flying camp of ten thousand militia, furnished by 
 Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland, and likewise engaged 
 until the ist December, should be stationed in the Jerseys for the 
 defence of the Middte colonies. Washington was, moreover, 
 empowered, in case of emergency, to call on the neighboring colo- 
 nies for temporary aid with their militia. Military affairs had 
 hitherto been referred in Congress to committees casually appoint- 
 ed, and had consequently been subject to great irregularity and 
 neglect. Henceforth a permanent committee, entitled the Board 
 of War and Ordnance, was to take cognizance of them. The first 
 board was composed of five members ; John Adams, Colonel Ben- 
 jamin Harrison, Roger Sherman, James Wilson, and Edward Rut- 
 ledge ; with Richard Peters as secretary. It went into operation 
 on the 1 2th of June. 
 
 While at Philadelphia, Washington had frequent consultations 
 
224 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with George Clinton, one of the delegates from New York, con- 
 cerning the interior defences of that province, especially those con- 
 nected with the security of the Highlands of the Hudson, where 
 part of the regiment of Colonel James Clinton, the brother of the 
 delegate, was stationed. These brothers were of the old Clinton 
 stock of England ; being descended from General James Clinton, 
 an adherent of royalty in the time of the civil wars, but who passed 
 over to Ireland, after the death of Charles I. Their father, Charles 
 Clinton, grandson of the general, emigrated to America in 1729, 
 and settled in Ulster, now Orange County, just above the High- 
 lands of the Hudson. Though not more than fifty miles from the 
 city of New York, it was at that time on the borders of a wilder- 
 ness, where every house had at times to be a fortress. Charles 
 Clinton, like most men on our savage frontier in those days, was a 
 warrior by necessity, if not by choice. He took an active part 
 in Indian and French wars, commanded a provincial regiment 
 stationed at Fort Herkimer, joined in the expedition under General 
 Bradstreet, when it passed up the valley of the Mohawk, and was 
 present at the capture of Fort Frontenac. His sons, James and 
 George, one twenty, the other seventeen years of age, served in 
 the same campaign, the one as captain, the other as lieutenant ; 
 thus taking an early lesson in that school of American soldiers, the 
 French war. James, whose propensities were always military, 
 continued in the provincial army until the close of that war ; and 
 afterward, when settled on an estate in Ulster County, was able 
 and active in organizing its militia. George apphed himself to the 
 law, and became successful at the bar, in the same county. Their 
 father, having laid aside the sword, occupied for many years, with 
 discernment and integrity, the honorable station of Judge of the 
 Court of Common Pleas. He died in Ulster County, in 1773, in 
 the eighty-third year of his age, " in full view of that revolution in 
 which his sons were to act distinguished parts." With his latest 
 breath he charged them "to stand by the liberties of their 
 country." They needed no sugh admonition. From the very first, 
 they had been heart and hand in the cause. George had cham- 
 pioned it for years in the New York legislature, signalizing himself 
 by his zeal as one of an intrepid minority in opposing ministerial 
 oppression. He had but recently taken his seat as delegate to the 
 Continental Congress. James Clinton, apjpointed colonel on the 
 30th of June, 1775, had served with his regiment of New York 
 troops under Montgomery at the seige of St. Johns, and the capture 
 of Montreal, after which he had returned home. He had sub- 
 sequently been appointed to the command of a regiment in one of 
 the four battalions raised for the defence of New York. 
 
 The prevalence of the small-pox had frequently rendered Wash- 
 ington uneasy on Mrs. Washington's account during her visits to 
 the army ; he was relieved, therefore, by her submitting to inocu- 
 lation during their sojourn in Philadelphia. He was gratified, also, 
 by procuring the appointment of his late secretary, Joseph Reed, 
 to the post of adjutant-general, vacated by the promotion of Gen- 
 eral Gates, thus placing him once more by his side. 
 
1776.] CANADA ABANDONED. 225 
 
 Operations in Canada were drawing to a disastrous close. Gene- 
 ral Thomas, finding it impossible to make a stand at Point Des- 
 chambault, had continued his retreat to the mouth of the Sorel, 
 where he found General Thompson with part of the troops detached 
 by Washington, from New York, who were making some prepara- 
 tions for defence. Shortly after his arrival, he was taken ill with 
 the small-pox, and died on June 2nd. On his death, General Sul- 
 livan, who had recently arrived with the main detachment of troops 
 from New York, succeeded to the command; General Wooster 
 having been recalled. General Thompson was sending ofif his 
 sick and his heavy baggage, to be prepared for a retreat, if neces- 
 sary. " It really was affecting," writes SulUvan to Washington, 
 *'to see the banks of the Sorel lined with men, women and children, 
 leaping and clapping their hands for joy, to see me arrive ; it gave 
 no less joy to General Thompson, who seemed to be wholly for- 
 saken, and left to fight against an unequal force or retreat before 
 them." 
 
 The actual force of the enemy in Canada had recently been 
 augmented to about 13,000 men; several regiments having arrived 
 from Ireland, one from England, another from General Howe, and 
 a body of Brunswick troops under the Baron Reidesel. Of these, 
 the greater part were on the way up from Quebec in divisions, by 
 land and water, with Generals Carleton, Burgoyne, Philips and 
 Reidesel ; while a considerable number under General Frazer had 
 arrived at Three Rivers, and others, under General Nesbit, lay 
 near them on board of transports. Sullivan retreated with his artil- 
 lery and stores, just before the arrival of the enemy, and was fol- 
 lowed, ^tep by step along the Sorel, by strong columns under 
 General Burgoyne. On the i8th of June he was joined by Gene- 
 ral Arnold with three hundred men, the garrison of Montreal, who 
 had crossed at Longueil just in time to escape a large detachment 
 of the enemy. Thus reinforced, and the evacuation of Canada 
 being determined on in a council of war, Sullivan succeeded in 
 destroying everything at Chamblee and St. Johns that he could 
 not carry away, breaking down bridges, and leaving forts and 
 vessels in flames, and continued his retreat to the Isle aux Noix, 
 where he made a halt for some days, until he should receive posi- 
 tive orders from Washington or General Schuyler. The low, 
 unhealthy situation of the Isle aux Noix obliged him soon to 
 remove his camp to the Isle la Motte, whence, on receiving orders 
 to that effect from General Schuyler, he ultimately embarked with 
 his forces, sick and well, for Crown Point. Thus ended this famous 
 invasion ; an enterprise bold in its conceptions, daring and hardy in 
 its execution; full of ingenious expedients and hazardous exploits; 
 and which, had not unforeseen circumstances counteracted its well- 
 devised plans, might have added all Canada to the American con- 
 federacy. 
 
226 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE BRITISH IN NEW YORK. — DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 The great aim of the British, at present, was to get possession 
 of New York and the Hudson, and make them the basis of military 
 operations. This they hoped to effect on the arrival of a powerful 
 armament, hourly expected, and designed for operations on the 
 seaboard. At this critical juncture there was an alarm of a con- 
 spiracy among the tories in the city and on Long Island, suddenly 
 to take up arms and cooperate with the British troops on their 
 arrival. The wildest reports were in circulation concerning it. 
 Some of the tories were to break down King's Bridge, others were 
 to blow up the magazines, spike the guns, and massacre all the 
 field-officers. Washington was to be killed or delivered up to the 
 enemy. Some of his own body-guard were said to be in the plot. 
 Several publicans of the city were pointed out, as having aided or 
 abetted the plot. One was landlord of the Highlander, at the cor- 
 ner of Beaver street and Broadway. Another dispensed hquor 
 under the sign of Robin Hood. Another, named Lowry, described 
 as a "fat man in a blue coat," kept tavern in a low house opposite 
 the Oswego market. Another, James Houlding, kept a beer house 
 in Tryon Row, opposite the gates of the upper'barracks. It would 
 seem as if a network of corruption and treachery had been woven 
 throughout the city by means of these liquor dealers. Numerous 
 arrests took place, and among the number, some of Washington's 
 body-guard. A great dismay fell upon the tories. Some of those 
 on Long Island who had proceeded to arm themselves, finding the 
 plot discovered, sought refuge in woods and morasses. Washing- 
 ton directed that those arrested, who belonged to the army, should 
 be tried by a court-martial, and the rest handed over to the secular 
 power. Corbie's tavern, near Washington's quarters, was a kind 
 of rendezvous of the conspirators. There one Gilbert Forbes, a 
 gunsmith, " a short, thick man, with a white coat," enlisted men, 
 gave them money, and "swore them on the book to secrecy." 
 From this house a correspondence was kept up with Governor 
 Tryon on shipboard, through a "mulatto-colored negro, dressed in 
 blue clothes." At this tavern it was supposed Washington's body- 
 guards were tampered with. Thomas Hickey, one of the guards, 
 a dark-complexioned man, five feet six inches high, and weiJ set, 
 was said not only to be enlisted, but to have aided in corrupting 
 his comrades ; among others, Greene the drummer, and Johnson 
 the fifer. He was tried before a court-martial. He was an Irish- 
 man, and had been a deserter from the British army. The court- 
 martial found him guilty of mutiny and sedition, and treacherous 
 correspondence with the enemy, and sentenced him to be hanged. 
 The sentence was approved by Washington, and was carried 
 
1776.] ALEXANDER HAMILTON AT TWENTY, 227 
 
 promptly into effect June 28th, in the most solemn and impressive 
 manner, to serve as a warning and example in this time of treach- 
 ery and danger. 
 
 While the city was still brooding over this doleful spectacle, four 
 ships-of-vvar, portentous visitants, appeared off the Hook, stood 
 quietly in at the Narrows, and dropped anchor in the bay. On the 
 29th of June an express from the look-out on Staten Island 
 announced that forty sail were in sight. They were, in fact, ships 
 from Halifax, bringing between nine and ten thousand of the 
 troops recently expelled from Boston ; together with six transports 
 filled with Highland troops, which had joined the fleet at sea. At 
 sight of this formidable armament standing into the harbor, Wash- 
 ington instantly sent notice of its arrival to Colonel James Clinton, 
 who had command of the posts in the Highlands, and urged all 
 possible preparations to give the enemy a warm reception should 
 they push their frigates up the river. Other arrivals swelled the 
 number of ships in the bay of New York to one hundred and 
 thirty men-of-war and transports. They made no movement to 
 ascend the Hudson, but anchored off Staten Island, where they 
 landed their troops, and the hill sides were soon whitened with 
 their tents, Washington beheld the gathering storm with an anx- 
 ious eye, aware that General Howe only awaited the arrival of his 
 brother, the admiral, to commence hostile operations. He wrote 
 to the President of Congress, urging a call on the Massachusetts 
 government for its quota of continental troops ; and the formation 
 of a flying camp of ten thousand men, to be stationed in the Jer- 
 seys as a central force, ready to act in any direction as circum- 
 stances might require. On the 2d of July, he issued a general order, 
 calling upon the troops to prepare for a momentous conflict which 
 was to decide their liberties and fortunes. Those who should sig- 
 nahze themselves by acts of bravery, would be noticed and 
 rewarded ; those who proved craven would be exposed and pun- 
 ished. No favor would be shown to such as refused or neglected 
 to do their duty at so important a crisis. 
 
 About this time, we have the first appearance in the military 
 ranks of the Revolution, of one destined to take an active and dis- 
 tinguished part in public affairs ; and to leave the impress of his 
 genius on the institutions of the country. As General Greene one 
 day, on his way to Washington's head-quarters, was passing 
 through a field — then on the outskirts of the city, now in the heart 
 of its busiest quarter, and known as "the Park" — he paused to 
 notice a provincial company of artillery, and was struck with its 
 able performances, and with the tact and talent of its commander. 
 He was a mere youth, apparently about twenty years of age ; small 
 in person and stature, but remarkable for his alert and manly bear- 
 ing. It was Alexander Hamilton. Greene was an able tactician, 
 and quick to appreciate any display of military science ; a little 
 conversation sufficed to convince him that the youth before him 
 had a mind of no ordinary grasp and quickness. He invited him 
 to his quarters, and from that time, cultivated his friendship. 
 
 Hamilton was a native of the island of Nevis, in the West Indies, 
 
228 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and at a very early age had been put in a counting-house at Santa 
 Cruz. His nature, however, was aspiring. "I contemn the grov- 
 eling condition of a clerk to which my fortune condemns me," 
 writes he to a youthful friend, "and would willingly risk my life, 
 though not my character, to exalt my station. I mean to prepare 
 the way for futurity. I am no philosopher, and may be justly said 
 to build castles in the air; yet we have seen such schemes succeed, 
 when the projector is constant. I shall conclude by saying, I wish 
 there was a war." Still he applied himself with zeal and fidelity 
 to the duties of his station, and such were the precocity of his 
 judgment, and his aptness at accounts, that, before he was fourteen 
 years of age, he was left for a brief interval, during the absence oi 
 the principal, at the head of the establishment. While his situa- 
 tion in the house gave him a practical knowledge of business, and 
 experience in finance, his leisure hours were devoted to self-culti- 
 vation. He made himself acquainted with mathematics and chem- 
 istry, and indulged a strong propensity to hterature. Some early 
 achievements of his pen attracted attention, and showed such 
 proof of talent, that it was determined to give him the advantage 
 of a regular education. He was accordingly sent to Elizabeth- 
 town, in the Jersey?, in the autumn of 1772, to prepare, by a 
 course of studies, for admission into King's (now Columbia) Col- 
 lege, at New York. He entered the college as a private student, 
 in the latter part of 1773, and endeavored, by diligent application, 
 to fit himself for the medical profession. The contentions of the 
 colonies with the mother country gave a different direction and im- 
 pulse to his ardent and aspiring mind. He soon signalized himself 
 by the exercise of his pen, sometimes in a grave, sometimes in a 
 satirical manner. On the 6th of July, 1774, there was a general 
 meeting, of the citizens in the " Fields," to express their abhorrence 
 of the Boston Port Bill. Hamilton was present, and, prompted by 
 his excited feelings and the instigation of youthful companions, 
 ventured to address the multitude. The vigor and maturity of 
 his intellect contrasted with his youthful appearance, won the 
 admiration of his auditors ; even his diminutive size gave addi- 
 tional effect to his eloquence. The war, for which in his boyish 
 days he had sighed, was approaching. He now devoted himself 
 to military studies, especially pyrotechnics and gunnery, and 
 formed an amateur corps out of a number of his fellow students, 
 and the young gentlemen of the city. In the month of March, 
 1776, he became captain of artillery, in a provincial corps, newly 
 raised, and soon, by able drilling, rendered it conspicuous for 
 discipline. 
 
 A valuable accession to the army, at this anxious time, was 
 "Washington's neighbor, and former companion in arms, Hugh 
 Mercer, the veteran of Culloden and Fort Duquesne. His military 
 spirit was alert as ever ; and on the 5th of June he had received 
 from Congress the commission of brigadier-general. He was 
 greeted by Washington with the right hand of fellowship. He sent 
 him over to Paulus Hook, in the Jerseys, to make arrangements 
 for the Pennsylvania militia as they should come in ; recommend- 
 
1 776. J DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 229 
 
 ing him to Brig. Gen. William Livingston, as an officer on whose 
 experience and judgment great confidence might be reposed. Liv- 
 ingston was a man inexperienced in arms, but of education, talent, 
 sagacity and ready wit. He was of the New York family of the 
 same name, but had resided for some time in the Jerseys, having 
 a spacious mansion in Elizabethtown. which he had named Liberty 
 Hall. Mercer and he were to consult together, and concert plans 
 to repel invasions. New Jersey's greatest danger of invasion was 
 from State n Island, where the British were throwing up works, and 
 whence they might attempt to cross to Amboy. The flying camp 
 was therefore to be stationed in the neighborhood of that place. 
 " The known disaffection of the people of Amboy," writes Wash- 
 ington, " and the treachery of those on Staten Island, who, after 
 the fairest professions, have shown themselves our most inveterate 
 enemies, have induced me to give directions that all persons of 
 known enmity and doubtful character, should he removed from 
 those places." According to General Livingston's humorous 
 account, his own village of Elizabethtown was not much more 
 reliable, being peopled in those agitated times by "unknown, 
 unrecommended strangers, guilty-looking tories, and very knavish 
 whigs." 
 
 While danger was gathering round New York, and its inhabi- 
 tants were in mute suspense and fearful anticipations, the General 
 Congress at Philadelphia was discussing, with closed doors, what 
 John Adams pronounced — " The greatest question ever debated in 
 America, and as great as ever was or will be debated among men." 
 The result was, a resolution passed unanimously, on the 2d of 
 July "that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, 
 free and independent States." "The 2d of July," adds the 
 same patriotic statesman, "will be the most memorable epoch in 
 the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be cele- 
 brated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. 
 It ought to be commemorated as the day of dehverance, by sol- 
 emn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized 
 with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, 
 bonfires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the 
 other from this time forth for evermore." The glorious event has, 
 indeed, given rise to an annual jubilee, but not on the day desig- 
 nated by Adams. The fourth of July is the day of national 
 rejoicing, for on that day, the " Declaration of Independence," 
 that solemn and subhme document, was adopted. Tradition gives 
 a dramatic effect to its announcement. It was known to be under 
 discussion, but the closed doors of Congress excluded the popu- 
 lace. They awaited, in throngs, an appointed signal. In the 
 steeple of the state -house was a bell, imported twenty-three years 
 previously from London by the Provincial Assembly of Pennsyl- 
 vania. It bore the portentous text from scripture : " Proclaim 
 hberty throughout all tUe land, unto all the inhabitants thereof." 
 A joyous peal from that bell gave notice that the bill had been 
 passed. It was the knell of British domination. No one felt the 
 importance of the event more deeply than John Adams, tor no one 
 
230 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 had been more active in producing it. We quote his words written 
 at the moment. " When I look back to the year 1761, and recol- 
 lect the argument concerning writs of assistance in the superior 
 court, which I have hitherto considered as the commencement of 
 the controversy between Great Britain and America, and run 
 through the whole period from that time to this, and recollect the 
 series of political events, the chain of causes and effects ; I am 
 surprised at the suddenness, as well as the greatness of this Revol- 
 ution ; Great Britain has been filled with folly, America with 
 wisdom." His only regret was, that the declaration of indepen- 
 dence had not been made sooner. " Had it been made seven 
 months ago," said he, "we should have mastered Quebec, and 
 been in possession of Canada, and might before this hour have 
 formed alliances with foreign states. Many gentlemen in high 
 stations, and of great influence, have been duped by the minis- 
 terial bubble of commissioners to treat, and have been slow and 
 languid in promoting measures for the reduction of that province." 
 Washington hailed the declaration with joy. It is true, it was 
 but a formal recognition of a state of things which had long 
 existed, but it put an end to all those temporizing hopes of recon- 
 ciliation which had clogged the military action of the country. On 
 the 9th of July, he caused it to be read at six o'clock in the even- 
 ing, at the head of each brigade of the army. "The general 
 hopes," said he in his orders, " that this important event will serve 
 as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier, to act with fidelity 
 and courage, as knowing that now the peace and safety of his 
 country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms ; 
 and that he is now in the service of a state, possessed of sufficient 
 power to reward his merit, and advance him to the highest honors 
 of a free country." 
 
 The exultation of the patriots of New York was soon overclouded. 
 On the 1 2th of July, several ships stood in from sea, and joined 
 the naval force below. Every nautical movement was now a 
 matter of speculation and alarm, and all the spy-glasses 
 in the city were incessantly reconnoitering the bay. Two 
 ships-of-war were observed getting under way, and standing 
 toward the city. One was the Phoenix, of forty guns ; the other 
 the Rose, of twenty guns, commanded by Captain Wallace, of 
 unenviable renown, who had marauded the New England coast, 
 and domineered over Rhode Island. The troops were imme- 
 diately at their alarm posts. It was about half-past three o'clock in 
 the afternoon, as the ships and three tenders came sweeping up the 
 bay with the advantage of wind and tide, and shaped their course 
 up the Hudson. The batteries of the city and of Paulus Hook on 
 the opposite Jersey shore, opened a fire upon them. They an- 
 swered it with broadsides. There was a panic throughout the city. 
 Women and children ran hither and thither about the streets, 
 mingling their shrieks and cries with the thundering of the cannon. 
 "The attack has begun ! The city is to be destroyed ! What will 
 become of us?" The Phoenix and the Rose continued their course 
 up the Hudson. They had merely fired upon the batteries as they 
 
1776.] CLINTON DEFENDS THE HUDSON 231 
 
 passed; and on their own part had sustained but little damage, 
 their decks having ramparts of sand-bags. The ships below 
 remained in sullen quiet at their anchors, and showed no intention 
 of following them. The firing ceased. The fear of a general 
 attack upon the city died away, and the agitated citizens breathed 
 more freely. Washington, however, apprehended this movement 
 of the ships might be with a different object. They might be 
 sent to land troops and seize upon the passes of the High- 
 lands. He sent off an express to put Gen. Mifflin on the 
 alert, who was stationed with his Philadelphia troops at Fort Wash- 
 ington and King's Bridge. The same express carried a letter from 
 him to the New York Convention, at that time holding its sessions 
 at White Plains in Westchester County, apprising it of the impending 
 danger. His immediate sohcitude was for the safety of Forts Con- 
 stitution and Montgomery. Fortunately George Clinton, the patri- 
 otic legislator, had recently been appointed brigadier-general of 
 the militia of Ulster and Orange counties. Called to his native 
 State by his military duties in this time of danger, he had only 
 remained in Congress to vote for the declaration of independence, 
 and then hastened home. He was now at New Windsor, in Ulster 
 County, just above the Highlands. Washington wrote to him on 
 the afternoon of the 12th, urging him to collect as great a force as 
 possible of the New York mihtia, for the protection of the High- 
 lands against this hostile irruption, and to soHcit aid, if requisite, 
 from the western parts of Connecticut. " I have the strongest rea- 
 son to believe," added he, " it will be absolutely necessary, if it 
 were only to prevent an insurrection of your own tories." Long 
 before the receipt of Washington's letter, Clinton had been put on 
 the alert. About nine o'clock in the morning of the 13th, an 
 alarm gun from his brother at Fort Constitution, thundered through 
 the echoing defiles of the mountains. Shortly afterward, two river 
 sloops came to anchor above the Highlands before the general's 
 residence. Their captains informed him that New York had been 
 attacked on the preceding afternoon. They had seen the cannon- 
 ade from a distance, and judged from the subsequent firing, that 
 the enemy's ships were up the river as far as King's Bridge. Clin- 
 ton was as prompt a soldier as he had been an intrepid legislator. 
 The neighboring militia were forthwith put in motion. Three regi- 
 ments were ordered out ; one was to repair to Fort Montgomery ; 
 another to Fort Constitution ; the third to rendezvous at Newburgh', 
 just above the Highlands, ready to hasten to the assistance of Fort 
 Constitution, should another signal be given. Another of his saga- 
 cious measures was to send expresses to all the owners of sloops 
 and boats twenty miles up the west side of the river, to haul them 
 off so as to prevent their grounding. Part of them were to be 
 ready to carry over the militia to the fort ; the rest were ordered 
 down to Fort Constitution, where a chain of them might be drawn 
 across the narrowest part of the river, to be set on fire, should the 
 enemy's ships attempt to pass. He proceeded early in the after- 
 noon of the same day, with about forty of his neighbors, to Fort 
 Constitution ; whence he pushed down on the same evening to 
 
232 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Fort Montgomery, where he fixed his head-quarters, as being 
 nearer the enemy and better situated to discover their motions. 
 On July 14th, two or three hundred of the hardy Ulster yeomanry, 
 roughly equipped, part of one of the regiments he had ordered 
 out, marched into Fort Montgomery, headed by their colonel 
 (Woodhull). Early the next morning five hundred of another 
 regiment arrived, and he was told that parts of two other regiments 
 were on the way. "The men," writes he to Washington, "turn 
 out of their harvest fields to defend their country with surprising 
 alacrity. The absence of so many of them, however, at this time, 
 when their harvests are perishing for want of the sickle, will greatly 
 distress the country." On no one could this prompt and brave 
 gathering of the yeomanry produce a more gratifying effect, than 
 upon the commander-in-chief: and no one could be more feelingly 
 alive, in the midst of stern military duties, to the appeal in behalf 
 of the peaceful interests of the husbandman. 
 
 New York has always been a city prone to agitations. Tliatinto 
 which it was thrown on the afternoon of the 12th of July, by the 
 broadsides of the Phoenix and the Rose, was almost immediately 
 followed by another. On the same evening there was a great 
 booming of cannon, with clouds of smoke, from the shipping at 
 anchor at Staten Island. Every spy-glass was again in requisition. 
 The British fleet were saluting a ship of the line, just arrived from 
 sea. She advanced grandly, every man-of-war thundering a salute 
 as she passed. At her foretop masthead she bore St. George's 
 flag. "It is the admiral's ship! " cried the nautical men on the 
 look-out at the Battery. "It is the admiral's ship ! " was echoed 
 from mouth to mouth, and the word soon flew throughout the city, 
 " Lord Howe is come ! " 
 
 Affairs now appeared to be approaching a crisis. In consequence 
 of the recent conspiracy, the Convention of New York, seated at 
 White Plains in Westchester County, had a secret committee sta- 
 tioned in New York for the purpose of taking cognizance of trai- 
 torous machinations. To this committee Washington addressed a 
 letter the day after his lordship's arrival, suggesting the policy of 
 removing from the city and its environs, " all persons of known 
 disaffection and enmity to the cause of America ;" especially those 
 confined in jail for treasonable offences ; who might become 
 extremely dangerous in case of an attack and alarm. He took 
 tlys step with great reluctance ; but felt compelled to it by circum- 
 stances. The late conspiracy had shown him that treason might 
 be lurking in his camp. And he was well aware that the city and 
 the neighboring country, especially Westchester County, and 
 Queens and Suffolk counties on Long Island, abounded with 
 " tories," ready to rally under the royal standard whenever backed 
 by a commanding force. In consequence of his suggestion, thir- 
 teen persons in confinement for traitorous offences, were removed 
 to the jail of Litchfield in Connecticut. Among the number was 
 the late mayor ; but as his offence was not of so deep a dye as 
 those whereof the rest stood charged, it was recommended by the 
 
1776.] ENFORCED BRITISH ETIQUETTE 233 
 
 president of the Convention that he should be treated with indul- 
 gence. 
 
 The proceedings of Lord Howe soon showed the policy of these 
 precautions. His lordship had prepared a declaration, addressed 
 to the people at large, informing them of the powers vested in his 
 brother and himself as commissioners for restoring peace ; and 
 inviting communities as well as individuals, who, in the tumult and 
 disasters of the times, had deviated from their allegiance to the 
 crown, to merit and receive pardon by a prompt return to their 
 duty. It was added, that proper consideration would be had of 
 the services of all who should contribute to the restoration of public 
 tranquiUity. 
 
 Washington, in his cori'espondence with Generals Gage and 
 Howe, exacted the consideration and deference due to him as com- 
 mander-in-chief of the American armies ; he did this not from offi- 
 cial pride and punctilio, but as the guardian of American rights 
 and diginities. The British officers, considering the Americans in 
 arms rebels without valid commissions, were in the habit of deny- 
 ing them all military title. Washington's general officers had 
 urged him not to submit to this tacit indignity, but to reject all let- 
 ters directed to him without a specification of his official rank, 
 Within a day or two an officer of the British navy, Lieut. Brown, 
 came with a flag from Lord Howe, seeking a conference with 
 Washington. Colonel Reed, the adjutant-geneiial, embarked in a 
 barge, and met him half way between Governor's and Staten 
 Islands. The lieutenant informed him that he was the bearer of a 
 letter from Lord Howe to Mr. Washington. Colonel Reed replied, 
 that he knew no such person in the American army. The lieuten- 
 ant produced and offered the letter. It was addressed to George 
 Washington, Esquire. He was informed that it could not be 
 received with such a direction. The Heutenant expressed much 
 concern. The letter, he said, was of a civil, rather than a military 
 nature — Lord Howe regretted he had not arrived sooner — he had 
 great powers — it was much to be wished the letter could be received. 
 While the lieutenant was embarrassed and agitated, Reed main- 
 tained his coolness, politely declining to receive the letter, as incon- 
 sistent with his duty. They parted ; but after the lieutenant had 
 been rowed some little distance, his barge was put about, and Reed 
 waited to hear what further he had to say. It was to ask by what 
 title General — but, catching himself, Mr. Washington chose to be 
 addressed. Reed replied that the general's station in the army 
 was well known ; and they could not be at a loss as to the proper 
 mode of addressing him, especially as this matter had been dis- 
 cussed in the preceding summer, of which, he presumed, the 
 admiral could not be ignorant. The heutenant again expressed his 
 disappointment and regret, and their interview closed. On the 
 19th, an aide-de-camp of General Howe came with a flag, and 
 requested to know, as there appeared to be an obstacle to a cor- 
 respondence between the two generals, whether Colonel Patterson, 
 the British adjutant-general, could be admitted to an interview with 
 General Washington. Colonel Reed, who met the flag, consented 
 
234 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 in the name of the general, and pledged his honor for the safety of 
 the adjutant-general during the interview, which was fixed for the 
 following morning. At the appointed time, Colonel Reed and Colonel 
 Webb, one of Washington's aides," met the flag in the harbor, took 
 Colonel Patterson into their barge, and escorted him to town, pass- 
 ing in front of the grand battery. The customary precaution of 
 blindfolding was dispensed with ; and there was a lively and socia- 
 ble conversation the whole way. Washington received the 
 adjutant-general at headquarters with much form and ceremony, 
 in full military array, with his officers and guards about him. Col- 
 onel Patterson, addressing him by the title oi your excellency, 
 endeavored to explain the address of the letter as consistent with 
 propriety, and founded on a similar address in the previous sum- 
 mer, to General Howe. That General Howe did not mean to 
 derogate from the respect or rank of General Washington, but con- 
 ceived such an address consistent with what had been used by 
 arnbassadors or plenipotentiaries where difficulties of rank had 
 arisen. He then produced, but did not offer, a letter addressed to 
 George Washington, Esquire, &c., &c., hoping that the et ceteras, 
 which implied everything, would remove all impediments. Wash- 
 ington replied, that it was true, the et ceteras implied everything, 
 but they also imphed anything. His letter alluded to, of the pre- 
 vious summer, was in reply to one addressed in like manner. A 
 letter, he added, addressed to a person acting in a pubhc character, 
 should have some inscriptions to designate it from a mere private 
 letter ; and he should absolutely dechne any letter addressed to 
 himself as a private person, when it related to his public station. 
 Colonel Patterson, finding the letter would not be received, endeav- 
 ored, as far as he could recollect, to communicate the scope of it 
 in the course of a somewhat desultory conversation. What he 
 chiefly dwelt upon was, that Lord Howe and his brother had been 
 specially nominated commissioners for the promotion of peace, 
 which was esteemed a mark of favor and regard to America ; 
 that they had great powers, and would derive the highest pleasure 
 from effecting an accommodation ; and he concluded by adding, 
 that he wished his visit to be considered as making the first advance 
 toward that desirable object. Washington replied that their pow- 
 ers, it would seem, were only to grant pardons. Now those who 
 had committed no fault needed no pardon ; and such was the case 
 with the Americans, who were only defending what they consid- 
 ered their indisputable rights. Colonel Patterson avoided a dis- 
 cussion of this matter, which, he observed, would open a very 
 wide field ; so here the conference, which had been conducted on 
 both sides with great courtesy, terminated. The colonel took his 
 leave, excusing himself from partaking of a collation, having made 
 a late breakfast, and was again conducted to his boat. He 
 expressed himself highly sensible of the courtesy of his treatment, 
 in having the usual ceremony of blindfolding dispensed with. 
 Washington received the applause of Congress and of the public 
 for sustaining the dignity of his station. His conduct in this par- 
 ticular was recommended as a model to all American officers in 
 
1776.1 BRITISH ON THE HUDSON. 235 
 
 corresponding with the enemy ; and Lord Howe informed his gov- 
 ernment that, thenceforward, it would be poHtic to change the 
 superscription of his letters. 
 
 In the mean time the irruption of the Phoenix and the Rose into 
 the waters of the Hudson had roused a belligerent spirit along its 
 borders. The lower part of that noble river is commanded on the 
 eastern side by the bold woody heights of Manhattan Island and 
 Westchester County, and on the western side by the rocky chffs 
 of the Palisades. Beyond those chffs, the river expands into a suc- 
 cession of what may almost be termed lakes ; first the Tappan Sea, 
 then Haverstraw Bay, then the Bay of Peekskill ; separated from 
 each other by long stretching points, or high beethng promontories, 
 but affording ample sea room and safe anchorage. Then come 
 the redoubtable Highlands, that strait, fifteen miles in length, where 
 the river bends its course, narrow and deep, between rocky, forest- 
 clad mountains. " He who has command of that grand defile," 
 said an old navigator, "may at any time throttle tlie Hudson." 
 The New York Convention, aware of the impending danger, dis- 
 patched military envoys to stir up the yeomanry along the river, 
 and order out mihtia. Powder and ball were sent to Tarrytown, 
 before which the hostile ships were anchored, and yeoman troops 
 were stationed there and along the neighboring shores of the Tap- 
 pan Sea. In a little while the militia of Dutchess County and 
 Cortlandt's Manor were hastening, rudely armed, to protect the 
 public stores at Peekskill, and mount guard at the entrance of the 
 Highlands. No one showed more zeal in this time of alarm, than 
 Colonel Pierre Van Cortlandt, of an old colonial family, which held 
 its manorial residence at the mouth of the Croton. With his regi- 
 ment he kept a dragon watch along the eastern shore of the Tap- 
 pan Sea and Haverstraw Bay ; while equal vigilance was main- 
 tained night and day along the western shore, from Nyack quite up 
 to the Donderberg, by Colonel Hay and his regiment of Haverstraw. 
 Sheep and cattle were driven inland. Sentinels were posted to 
 keep a lookout from heights and headlands and give the alarm 
 should any boats approach the shore, and rustic marksmen were 
 ready to assemble in a moment, and give them a warm reception. 
 
 The ships-of-\var which caus-ed this alarm and turmoil, lay 
 quietly anchored in the broad expanses of the Tappan Sea and 
 Haverstraw Bay ; shifting their ground occasionally, and keeping 
 out of musket shot of the shore, apparently sleeping in the summer 
 sunshine, with awnings stretched above their decks ; while their 
 boats were out taking soundings quite up to the Highlands. One 
 of the tenders stood into the Bay of Peekskill, and beat up within 
 long shot of Fort Montgomery, where General George CUnton was 
 ensconced with six hundred of the militia of Orange and Ulster 
 counties. As the tender approached, a thirty-two pounder was 
 brought to range upon her. The ball passed through her quarter ; 
 whereupon she put about, and ran round the point of the Donder- 
 berg, where the boat landed, plundered a soHtary house at the 
 foot of the mountain, and left it in flames. The marauders, on 
 their way back to the ships, were severely galled by rustic marks- 
 
236 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 men, from a neighboring promontory. The ships now moved up 
 within six miles of Foit Montgomery, General Clinton apprehended 
 they might mean to take advantage of a dark night, and slip by 
 him in the deep shadows of the mountains. The shores were high 
 and bold, the river was deep, the navigation of course safe and 
 easy. Once above the Highlands, they might ravage the country 
 beyond, and destroy certain vessels of war which were being con- 
 structed at Poughkeepsie. To prevent this, he stationed a guard 
 at night on the furthest point in view, about two miles and a half 
 below the fort, prepared to kindle' a blazing fire should the ships 
 appear in sight. Large piles of dry brushwood mixed with com- 
 bustibles, were prepared at various places up and down the shore 
 opposite to the fort, and men stationed to set fire to them as soon 
 as a signal should be given from the lower point. The fort, there- 
 fore, while it remained in darkness, would have a fair chance with 
 its batteries as the ships passed between it and these conflagrations. 
 Fire rafts were to be brought from Poughkeepsie and kept at hand 
 ready for action. These were to be lashed two together, with 
 chains, between old sloops filled with combustibles, and sent down 
 with a strong wind and tide, to drive upon the ships. An iron 
 chain, also, was to be stretched obliquely across the river from 
 Fort Montgomery to the foot of Anthony's Nose, thus, as it were, 
 chaining up the gate of the Highlands. For a protection below 
 the Highlands, it was proposed to station whale-boats about the 
 coves and promontories of Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay ; to 
 reconnoiter the enemy, cruise about at night, carry intelligence 
 from post to post, seize any river craft that might bring the ships 
 supplies, and cut off their boats when attempting to land. Galleys, 
 also, were prepared, with nine-pounders mounted at the bows. 
 
 Washington was anxious to prevent an irruption of the enemy 
 from Canada. He was grieved, therefore, to find there was a 
 clashing of authorities between the generals who had charge of the 
 Northern frontier. Gates, on his way to take command of the 
 army in Canada, had heard with surprise in Albany, of its retreat 
 across the New York frontier. He still considered it under his 
 orders, and was proceeding to act accordingly ; when General Schuy- 
 ler observed, that the resolution of Congress, and the instructions 
 of Washington, applied to the army only while in Canada ; the 
 moment it retreated within the limits of New York, it came within 
 his (Schuyler's) command. That there might be no delay in the 
 service at this critical juncture, the two generals agreed to refer the 
 question of command to Congress, and in the mean time to act in 
 concert. They accordingly departed together for Lake Cham- 
 plain, to prepare against an anticipated invasion by Sir Guy Carle- 
 ton. They arrived at Crown Point on the 6th of July, and found 
 there the wrecks of the army recently driven out of Canada. They 
 had been harassed in their retreat by land ; their transportation on 
 the lake had been in leaky boats, without awnings, where the sick, 
 suffering from small-pox, lay on straw, exposed to a burning July 
 sun ; no food but salt pork, often rancid, hard biscuit or unbaked 
 flour, and scarcely any medicine. Not more than six thousand 
 
1776.] NORTHERN NEW YORK. 237 
 
 men had reached Crown Point, and half of those were on the sick 
 list ; the shattered remains of twelve or fifteen very fine battalions. 
 Some few were sheltered in tents, some under sheds, and others in 
 huts hastily formed of bushes ; scarce one of which but contained 
 a dead or dying man. Two thousand eight hundred were to be 
 sent to a hospital recently established at the south end of Lake 
 George, a distance of fifty miles ; when they were gone, with those 
 who were to row them in boats, there would remain but the shadow 
 of an army. In a council of war, it was determined that, under 
 present circumstances, the post of Crown Point was not tenable ; 
 and that, therefore, it was expedient to fall back, and take a strong 
 position at Ticonderoga. 
 
 On the 9th of July, Schuyler and Gates returned to Ticonderoga, 
 accompanied by Arnold. Instant arrangements were made to 
 encamp the troops, and land the artillery and stores as fast as they 
 should arrive. Great exertions, also, were made to strengthen the 
 defences of the place. Preparations were made, also, to augment 
 the naval force on the lakes. Ship carpenters from the Eastern 
 States were employed at Skenesborough, to build the hulls of gal- 
 leys and boats, which, when launched, were to be sent down to 
 Ticonderoga for equipment and armament, under the superinten- 
 dence of General Arnold. 
 
 A letter from the President of Congress, dated July 8th, informed 
 General Gates, that according to the resolution of that body under 
 which he had been appointed, his command was totally indepen- 
 dent of General Schuyler, while the army was in Canada^ but no 
 longer. Congress had no design to divest General Schuyler of the 
 command while the troops were on this side of Canada. To 
 Schuyler, under the same date, the president writes : "The Con- 
 gress highly approve of your patriotism and magnanimity in not 
 suffering any difference of opinion to hurt the public service." 
 Gates professed himself entirely satisfied with the explanation he 
 had received, and perfectly disposed to obey the commands of 
 Schuyler. "I am confident," added he, "we shall, as the Con- 
 gress wish, go hand in hand to promote the public welfare." 
 Schuyler, too, assured both Congress and Washington, " that the 
 difference in opinion between Gates and himself had not caused 
 the least ill-will, nor interrupted that harmony necessary to subsist 
 between their officers." Samuel Adams, however, who was at 
 that time in Congress, had strong doubts in the matter. "Schuy- 
 ler and Gates are to command the troops," writes he, "the former 
 while they are without, the latter while they are within the bounds 
 of Canada. Admitting these generals to have the accomplishments 
 of a Marlborough, or a Eugene, I cannot conceive that such a dis- 
 position of them will be attended with any good effects, unless har- 
 mony subsists between them. Alas, I fear this is not the case. 
 Already disputes have arisen, which they have referred to Con- 
 gress ; and, although they affect to treat each other with a polite- 
 ness becoming their rank, in my mind, altercations between com- 
 manders who have pretensions nearly equal (1 mean in point of 
 command), forbode a repetition of misfortune. I sincerely wish 
 
238 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 my apprehensions may prove groundless." John Adams, speak- 
 ing of the violent passions and discordant interests at work through- 
 out the country, from Florida to Canada, observes : " It requires 
 more serenity of temper, a deeper understanding, and more courage 
 than fell to the lot of Marlborough, to ride in this whirlwind." 
 
 Letters from Gen. Lee gave Washington intelligence of the fate 
 of Sir Henry Clinton's expedition, which had been the subject of 
 so much surmise and perplexity. Sir Henry in his cruise along the 
 coast had been repeatedly foiled by Lee. First, when he looked 
 in at New York; next, when he paused at Norfolk in Virginia ; and 
 lastly, when he made a bold attempt at Charleston in South Caro- 
 lina ; for scarce did his ships appear off the bar of the harbor, 
 than the omnipresent Lee was marching his troops into the city. 
 Within a year past, Charleston had been fortified at various points. 
 Fort Johnson, on James Island, three miles from the city, and com- 
 manding the breadth of the channel, was garrisoned by a regiment 
 of South Carolina regulars under Colonel Gadsden. A strong fort 
 had recently been constructed nearly opposite, on the southwest 
 point of Sullivan's Island, about six miles below the city. It was 
 mounted with twenty-six guns, and garrisoned by three hundred 
 and seventy-five regulars and a few militia, and commanded by 
 Col. William Moultrie, of South Carolina, who had constructed it. 
 This fort, in connection with that on James Island, was considered 
 the key of the harbor. Cannon had also been mounted on Had- 
 drell's Point on the mainland, to the north-west of Sullivan's 
 Island, and along the bay in front of the town. The arrival of Gen. 
 Lee gave great joy to the people of Charleston, from his high 
 reputation for military skill and experience. According to his own 
 account, the town on his arrival was "utterly defenceless." He 
 was rejoiced therefore, when the enemy, instead of immediately 
 attacking it, directed his whole force against the fort on Sullivan's 
 Island. " He has lost an opportunity, ' ' said Lee, • ' such as I hope will 
 never occur again, of taking the town." The British ships, in fact, 
 having passed the bar with some difficulty, landed their troops on 
 Long Island, situated to the east of Sullivan's Island, and separated 
 from it by a small creek called the Breach. Clinton meditated a 
 combined attack with his land and naval forces /)n the fort com- 
 manded by Moultrie; the capture of which, he thought, would 
 insure the reduction of Charleston. The Americans immediately 
 threw up works on the north-eastern extremity of SulHvan's Island, 
 to prevent the passage of the enemy over the Breach, stationing a 
 force of regulars and mihtia there, under Col. Thompson. Gen. 
 Lee encamped on Haddrell's Point, on the mainland, to the north 
 of the island, whence he intended to keep up a communication by 
 a bridge of boats, so as to be ready at any moment to aid either 
 Moultrie or Thompson. Clinton, on the other hand, had to con- 
 struct batteries on Long Island, to oppose those of Thompson, and 
 cover the passage of his troops by boats or by the ford. Thus 
 lime was consumed, and the enemy Avere, from the ist to the 28th 
 of June, preparing for the attack ; their troops suffering from the 
 intense heat of the sun on the burning sands of Long Island, and 
 
1776.] THE BRITISH A T CHARLESTON. 239 
 
 both fleet and army complaining of brackish water and scanty and 
 bad provisions. At length on the 28th of June, the Thunder Bomb 
 commenced the attack, throwing shells at the fort as the fleet, 
 under Sir Peter Parker, advanced. About eleven o'clock the ships 
 dropped their anchors directly before the front battery. '■' I was at 
 this time in a boat," writes Lee, "endeavoring to make the island ; 
 but the wind and tide being violently against us, drove us on the 
 main. They immediately commenced the most furious fire I ever 
 heard or saw. I confess I was in pain, from the little confidence I 
 reposed in our troops ; the officers being all boys, and the men raw 
 recruits. What augmented my anxiety was, that we had no bridge 
 finished for retreat or communication; and the creek or cove which 
 separates it from the continent is near a mile wide. I had received, 
 likewise, intelligence that their land troops intended at the same 
 time to land and assault. I never in my life felt myself so uneasy ; 
 and what added to my uneasiness was, that I knew our stock of 
 ammunition was miserably low. 1 passed the creek or cove in 
 a small boat, in order to animate the garrison in propria persona; 
 but I found they had no occasion for such an encouragement. 
 They were pleased with my visit, and assured me they never would 
 abandon the post but with their lives. The cool courage they dis- 
 played astonished and enraptured me. The noble fellows who 
 were mortally wounded, conjured their brethren never to abandon 
 the standard of liberty. Those who lost their limbs deserted not 
 their posts. Upon the whole, they acted hke Romans in the third 
 century." The fire from the ships did not produce tlie expected 
 effect. The fortifications were low, composed of earth and pal- 
 metto wood, which is soft, and makes no splinters, and the merlons 
 were extremely thick. At one time there was a considerable pause 
 in the American fire, because the powder was exhausted. As soon 
 as a supply could be forwarded from the mainland by General Lee, 
 the fort resumed its fire with still more deadly effect Through 
 unskilful pilotage, several of the ships ran aground, where one, the 
 frigate Actaeon, remained; the rest were extricated with difficulty. 
 Those which bore the brunt of the action were much cut up. One 
 hundred and seventy-five men were killed, and nearly as many 
 wounded. Captain Scott, commanding the Experiment, of fifty 
 guns, lost an arm, and was otherwise wounded. Captain 
 Morris, commanding the Actaeon, was slain. So also was Lord 
 Campbell, late governor of the province, who served as a vol- 
 unteer on board of the squadron. Sir Henry Clinton, with two 
 thousand troops and five or six hundred seamen, attempted repeat- 
 edly to cross from Long Island, and cooperate in the 
 attack upon the fort, but was as often foiled by Col. Thompson, 
 with his battery of two cannon, and a body of South CaroUna 
 rangers and North Carolina regulars. The combat slackened 
 before sunset, and ceased before ten o'clock. Sir Peter Parker, 
 who had received a severe contusion in the engagement, then 
 slipped his cables, and drew off his shattered ships to Five Fathom 
 Hole. The Actaeon remained aground. On the following morn- 
 ing Clinton made another attempt to cross from Long Island to 
 
240 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Sullivan's Island ; but was again repulsed, and obliged to take 
 shelter behind his breastworks. Sir Peter Parker, too, giving up 
 all hope of reducing the fort in the shattered condition of his ships, 
 ordered that the Actaeon should be set on fire and abandoned. 
 The crew left her in flames, with the guns loaded, and the colors 
 flying. The Americans boarded her in time to haul down her 
 colors, and secure them as a trophy, discharge her guns at one of 
 the enemy's ships, and load three boats with stores. They then 
 abandoned her to her fate, and in half an hour she blew up. 
 Within a few days the troops were reembarked from Long Island ; 
 the attempt upon Charleston was for the present abandoned, and 
 the fleet once more put to sea. In this action, one of the severest 
 in the whole course of the war, the loss of the Americans in killed 
 and wounded, was but thirty-five men. Col. Moultrie derived the 
 greatest glory from the defence of Sullivan's Island; though the 
 thanks of Congress were voted as well to Gen. Lee, Col. Thomp- 
 son, and those under their command. The tidings of this signal 
 repulse of the enemy came most opportunely to Washington, when 
 he was apprehending an attack upon New York. He announced 
 it to the army in a general order of the 21st July. "This gen- 
 erous example of our troops under the like circumstances with us, 
 the General hopes, will animate every officer and soldier to imitate, 
 and even outdo them, when the enemy shall make the same attempt 
 on us. With such a bright example before us of what can be done 
 by brave men fighting in defence of their country, we shall be 
 loaded with a double share of shame and infamy if we do not 
 acquit ourselves with courage, and manifest a determined resolu- 
 tion to conquer or die." 
 
 In the course of a few days arrived a hundred sail, with large 
 reinforcements, among which were one thousand Hessians, and as 
 many more were reported to be on the way. The troops were dis- 
 embarked on Staten Island, and fortifications thrown up on some 
 of the most commanding hills. All projects of attack upon the 
 enemy were now out of the question. Indeed, some of W^ashing- 
 ton's ablest advisers questioned the policy of remaining in New 
 York, where they might be entrapped as the British had been in 
 Boston. Reed, the adjutant-general, observed that, as the com- 
 munication by the Hudson was interrupted, there was nothing now 
 to keep them at New York but a mere point of honor ; in the mean 
 time, they endangered the loss of the army and its military stores. 
 During the latter part of July, and the early part of August, ships 
 of war with their tenders continued to arrive, and Scotch High- 
 landers, Hessians, and other troops to be landed on Staten Island. 
 At the beginning of August, the squadron with Sir Henry Clinton, 
 recently repulsed at Charleston, anchored in the bay. "His 
 coming," writes Col. Reed, "was as unexpected as if he had 
 dropped from the clouds." He was accompanied by Lord Corn- 
 wallis, and brought three thousand troops. 
 
 The force of the enemy collected in the neighborhood of New 
 York was about thirty thousand men ; that of the Americans a little 
 more than seventeen thousand, but was subsequently increased to 
 
1776.] ADVANTAGE FROM THE FLEETS. 241 
 
 twenty thousand, for the most part raw and undisciplined. One 
 fourth were on the sick list with bilious and putrid fevers and dys- 
 entery ; others were absent on furlough or command ; the rest had 
 to be distributed over posts and stations fifteen miles apart. The 
 sectional jealousies prevalent among them were more and more a 
 subject of uneasiness to Washington. In one of his general orders 
 he observes : " It is with great concern that the General understands 
 that jealousies have arisen among the troops from the different pro- 
 vinces, and reflections are frequently thrown out which can only 
 tend to irritate each other, and injure the noble cause in which we 
 are engaged, and which we ought to support with one hand and 
 one heart. The General most earnestly entreats the officers and 
 soldiers to consider the consequences ; that they can no way assist 
 our enemies more effectually than by making divisions among our- 
 selves ; that the honor and success of the army, and the safety of 
 our bleeding country, depend upon harmony and good agreement 
 with each other ; that the provinces are all united to oppose the 
 common enemy, and all distinctions sunk in the name of an Ameri- 
 can. To make this name honorable, and to preserve the liberty 
 of our country, ought to be our only emulation ; and he will be the 
 best soldier and the best patriot, who contributes most to this 
 glorious work, whatever be his station, or from whatever part of 
 the continent he may come. Let all distinction of nations, coun- 
 tries and provinces, therefore, be lost in the generous contest, who 
 shall behave with the most courage against the enemy, and the 
 most kindness and good-humor to each other. If there be any 
 officers or soldiers so lost to virtue and a love of their country, as 
 to continue in such practices after this order, the general assures 
 them, and is authorized by Congress to declare to the whole army, 
 that such persons shall be severely punished, and dismissed from 
 the service with disgrace." The urgency of such a general order 
 is apparent in that early period of our confederation, when its 
 various parts had not as yet been sufficiently welded together to 
 acquire a thorough feeling of nationality ; yet what an enduring 
 lesson does it furnish for every stage of our Union! 
 
 Washington kept the most watchful eye upon the movements ot 
 the- enemy. Beside their great superiority in point of numbers as 
 well as discipline, to his own crude and scanty legions, they 
 possessed a vast advantage in their fleet. " They would not be 
 half the enemy they are," observed Colonel Reed, "if they were 
 once separated from their ships." Every arrival and departure of 
 these, therefore, was a subject of speculation and conjecture. 
 Aaron Burr, at that time in New York, aide-de-camp to General 
 Putnam, speaks, in a letter to an uncle, of thirty transports, which, 
 under convoy of three frigates, had put to sea on the 7th of 
 August, with the intention of sailing round Long Island and com- 
 ing through the Sound, and thus investing the city by the North 
 and East Rivers. "They are then to land on both sides of the 
 island," writes he, "join their forces, and draw a line across, 
 which will hem us in, and totally cut off all communication ; after 
 which, they will have their own fun." He adds : "They hold us 
 
242 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 in the utmost contempt. Talk of forcing all our lines without firing a 
 gun. The bayonet is their pride. They have forgot Bunker's 
 Hill." The Convention of the State ordered out hasty levies of 
 country militia, to form temporary camps on the shore of the 
 Sound, and on that of the Hudson above King's Bridge, to annoy 
 the enemy, should they attempt to land from their ships on either 
 of these waters. Others were sent to reinforce the posts on Long 
 Island. As Kings County on Long Island was noted for being a 
 stronghold of the disaffected, the Convention ordered that, should 
 any of the militia of that county refuse to serve, they should be dis- 
 armed and secured, and their possessions laid waste. Many of 
 the yeomen of the country, thus hastily summoned from the plow, 
 were destitue of arms, in lieu of which they were ordered to bring 
 with them a shovel, spade, or pickaxe, or a scythe straightened 
 and fastened to a pole. This rustic array may have provoked the 
 thoughtless sneers of scoffers ; but it was in truth one of the glor- 
 ilious features of the Revolution, to be thus aided in its emergen- 
 cies by "hasty levies of husbandmen." Washington had 
 appointed General George Clinton to the command of the levies 
 on both sides of the Hudson. He now ordered him to hasten 
 down with them to the fort just erected on the north side of King's 
 Bridge ; leaving two hundred men under the command of a brave 
 and alert officer to throw up works at the pass of Anthony's Nose, 
 where the main road to Albany crosses that mountain. Troops of 
 horse also were to be posted by him along the river to watch the 
 motions of the enemy. Washington now made the last solemn 
 preparations for the impending conflict. All suspected persons, 
 whose presence might promote the plans of the enemy, were 
 removed to a distance. All papers respecting aft'airs of State were 
 put up in a large case, to be delivered to Congress. As to his 
 domestic arrangements, Mrs. Washington had some time previously 
 gone to Philadelphia, with the intention of returning to Virginia, as 
 there was no prospect of her being with him any part of the sum- 
 mer, which threatened to be one of turmoil and danger. The other 
 ladies, wives of general officers, who used to grace and enliven 
 headquarters, had all been sent out of the way of the storm which 
 was lowering over this devoted city. 
 
 Reports from different quarters gave Washington reason to 
 apprehend that the design of the enemy might be to land part of 
 their force on Long Island, and endeavor to get possession of the 
 heights of Brooklyn, which overlooked New York ; while another 
 part should land above the city, as General Heath suggested. Thus, 
 various disconnected points distant from each other, and a great 
 extent of intervening country, had to be defended by raw troops, 
 against a superior force, well disciplined, and possessed of every 
 facility for operating by land and water. Gen. Greene, with a 
 considerable force, was stationed at Brooklyn. He had acquainted 
 himself with all the localities of the island, from Hell Gate to the 
 Narrows, and made his plan of defence accordingly. His troops 
 were diligently occupied in works which he laid out, about a 
 mile beyond the village of Brooklyn, and facing the interior of the 
 
I776.J THE ENEMY ON LONG ISLAND. 243 
 
 island, whence a land attack might be attempted. Brooklyn was 
 immediately opposite to New York. The Sound, commonly 
 called the East River, in that place about three quarters of a mile 
 in width, swept its rapid tides between them. The village stood on 
 a kind of peninsula, formed by the deep inlets of Wallabout Bay on 
 the north, and Gowanus Cove on the south. A line of intrench- 
 ments and strong redoubts extended across the neck of the penin- 
 sula, from the bay to a swamp and creek emptying into the cove. 
 To protect the rear of the works from the enemy's ships, a battery 
 was erected at Red Hook, the south-west corner of the peninsula, 
 and a fort on Governor's Island, nearly opposite. About two miles 
 and a half in front of the line of intrenchments and redoubts, a 
 range ©f hills, densely wooded, extended from southwest to north- 
 east, forming a natural barrier across the island. It was traversed 
 by three roads. One, on the left of the works, stretched east- 
 wardly to Bedford, and then by a pass through the Bedford Hills 
 to the village of Jamaica ; another, central and direct, led through 
 the woody heights to Flatbush ; a third, on the right of the lines, 
 passed by Gowanus Cove to the Narrows and Gravesend Bay. 
 The occupation of this range of hills, and the protection of its 
 passes, had been designed by Gen. Greene ; but unfortunately, in 
 the midst of his arduous toils, he was taken down by a raging 
 fever, which confined him to his bed ; and Gen. Sullivan, just 
 returned from Lake Champlain, had the temporary command. 
 Washington saw that to prevent the enemy from landing on Long 
 Island would be impossible, its great extent affording so many 
 places favorable for that purpose, and the American works 
 being at the part opposite to New York. On August 22d the 
 enemy appeared to be carrying their plans into execution. The 
 reports of cannon and musketry were heard from Long Island, and 
 columns of smoke were descried rising above the groves and 
 orchards at a distance. The city, as usual, was alarmed, and had 
 reason to be so ; for word soon came that several thousand men, 
 with artillery and light-horse, were landed at Gravesend ; and that 
 Colonel Hand, stationed there with the Pennsylvania rifle regi- 
 ment, had retreated to the lines, setting fire to stacks of wheat, and 
 other articles, to keep them from falling into the enemy's 
 hands. Washington apprehended an attempt of the foe by a 
 forced march, to surprise the lines at Brooklyn. He immediately 
 sent over a reinforcement of six battalions. It was all that he 
 could spare, as with the next tide the ships might bring up the 
 residue of the army, and attack the city. Five battalions more, 
 however, were ordered to be ready as a reinforcement, if required. 
 "Be cool, but determined," was the exhortation given to the 
 departing troops, " Do not fire at a distance, but wait the com- 
 mands of your officers. It is the General's express orders, that if 
 any man attempt to skulk, lie down, or retreat without orders, he 
 be instantly shot down for an example." In justice to the poor 
 fellows, most of whom w^ere going for the first time on a service of 
 life and death, Washington observes, that "they went off in high 
 spirits." 
 
244 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Nine thousand of the enemy had landed, with forty pieces of 
 cannon. Sir Henry Clinton had the chief command, and led the 
 first division. His associate officers were the Earls of Cornwallis and 
 Percy, Gen. Grant, and Gen. Sir William Erskine. As their boats 
 approached the shore. Col. Hand retreated to the chain of wooded 
 hills, and took post on a height commanding the central road lead- 
 ing from Flatbush. The enemy having landed without opposition. 
 Lord Cornwallis was detached with the reserve to Flatbush, while 
 the rest of the army extended itself from the ferry at the Narrows 
 through Utrecht and Gravesend, to the village of Flatland. Corn- 
 wallis, with two battalions of light-infantry. Colonel Donop's corps 
 of Hessians, and six field-pieces, advanced rapidly to seize upon 
 the central pass through the hills. He found Hand and his rifle- 
 men ready to make a vigorous defence. This brought him to a 
 halt, having been ordered not to risk an attack should the pass be 
 occupied. He took post for the night, therefore, in the village of 
 Flatbush. It was evidently the aim of the enemy to force the 
 lines at Brooklyn, and get possession of the heights. Should they 
 succeed, New York would be at their mercy. The panic and dis- 
 tress of the inhabitants went on increasing. Most of those who 
 could afford it, had already removed to the country. Head- 
 quarters were besieged by applicants for safeguard from the 
 impending danger ; and Washington was even beset in his walks 
 by supplicating women with their children. The patriot's heart 
 throbbed feelingly under the soldier's belt. Nothing could sur- 
 pass the patience and benignant sympathy with which he list- 
 ened to them, and endeavored to allay their fears. Again he 
 urged the Convention to carry out their measures for the removal 
 of these defenceless beings. " There are many," writes he, " who 
 anxiously wish to remove, but have not the means." On the 24th 
 he crossed over to Brooklyn, to inspect the lines and reconnoiter 
 the neighborhood. The American advanced posts were in the 
 wooded hills. Col. Hand kept watch over the central road, and a 
 strong redoubt had been thrown up in front of the pass, to check 
 any advance of the enemy from Flatbush. Another road leading 
 from Flatbush to Bedford, by which the enemy might get round to 
 the left of the works at Brooklyn, was guarded by two regiments, 
 one under Col. Williams, posted on the north side of the ridge, the 
 other by a Pennsylvanian rifle regiment, under Col. Miles, posted on 
 the south side. The enemy were stretched along the country beyond 
 the chain of hills. It was with deep concern Washington noticed 
 a prevalent disorder and confusion in the camp. There was a want 
 of system among the officers, and cooperation among the troops, 
 each corps seeming to act independently of the rest. Few of the 
 men had any military experience, except, perchance, in bush-fight- 
 ing with the Indians. Unaccustomed to discipline and the 
 restraint of camps, they sallied forth whenever they pleased, singly 
 or in squads, prowling about and firing upon the enemy, like 
 hunters after game. Much of this was no doubt owing to the pro- 
 tracted illness of Gen. Greene. On returning to the city, therefore, 
 Washington gave the command on Long Island to Gen. Putnam, 
 
1776.] A NOCTURNAL MARCH, 245 
 
 warning him, however, in his letter of instructions, to summon the 
 officers together, and enjoin them to put a stop to the irregularities 
 which he had observed among the troops. Lines of defence were 
 to be formed round the encampment, and works on the most 
 advantageous ground. Especial attention was called to the 
 wooded hills between the works and the enemy's camp. The passes 
 through them were to be secured by abatis, and defended by the 
 best troops, who should, at all hazards, prevent the approach of 
 the enemy. Putnam crossed with alacrity to his post. "He was 
 made happy," writes Col. Reed, " by obtaining leave to go over. 
 The brave old man was quite miserable at being kept here." In 
 the mean time, the enemy were augmenting their forces on the 
 island. Two brigades of Hessians, under Lieutenant-General De 
 Heister, were transferred from the camp on Staten Island on the 
 25th. This movement did not escape the vigilant eye of Wash- 
 ington. By the aid of his telescope, he had noticed that from time 
 to time tents were struck on Staten Island, and portions of the 
 encampment broken up ; while ship after ship weighed anchor,and 
 dropped down to the Narrows. He now concluded that the enemy 
 were about to make a push with their main force for the possession 
 of Brooklyn Heights. He accordingly sent over additional rein- 
 forcements, and among them Col. John Haslet's well equipped and 
 well disciplined Delaware regiment ; which was joined to Lord 
 Stirhng's brigade, chiefly composed of Southern troops, and sta- 
 tioned outside of the lines. These were troops which Washington 
 regarded with peculiar satisfaction, on account of their soldierlike 
 appearance and discipline. On the 26th, he crossed over to 
 Brooklyn, accompanied by Reed, the adjutant-general. There 
 was much movement among the enemy's troops, and their 
 number was evidently augmented. In fact, Gen. De Heister 
 had reached Flatbush with his Hessians, and taken command 
 of the center ; whereupon Clinton, with the right wing, drew 
 off to Flatlands, in a diagonal line to the right of De Heister, 
 whtle the left wing, commanded by General Grant, extended to 
 the place of landing on Gravesend Bay. Washington remained 
 all day, aiding Gen. Putnam with his counsels, who, new to the 
 command, had not been able to make himself well acquainted 
 with the fortified posts beyond the lines. In the evening, Wash- 
 ington returned to the city, full of anxious thought. A general 
 attack was evidently at hand. Where would it be made ? How 
 would his inexperienced troops stand the encounter? What would 
 be the defence of the city if assailed by the ships ? It was a night 
 of intense solicitude, and well might it be ; for during that night a 
 plan was carried into effect, fraught with disaster to the Amer- 
 icans. About nine o'clock, Clinton began his march from Flat- 
 lands with the vanguard, composed of light infantry. Lord Percy 
 followed with the grenadiers, artillery, and light dragoons, form- 
 ing the center. Lord Cornwallis brought up the rear-guard with 
 the heavy ordnance. Gen. Howe accompanied this division. It 
 was a silent march, without beat of drum or sound of trumpet, 
 under guidance of a Long Island tory, along by-roads traversing 
 
246 UFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 a swamp by a narrow causeway, and so across the country to the 
 Jamaica road. About two hours before daybreak, they arrived 
 within half a mile of the pass through the Bedford Hills, and halted 
 to prepare for an attack. At this juncture they captured an Ameri- 
 can patrol, and learned, to their surprise, that the Bedford pass 
 was unoccupied. In fact, the whole road beyond Bedford, leading 
 to Jamaica, had been left unguarded, excepting by some light vol- 
 unteer troops. Colonels Williams and Miles, who were stationed 
 to the left of Col. Hand, among the wooded hills, had been 
 instructed to send out parties occasionally to patrol the road, but 
 no troops had been stationed at the Bedford pass. The road and 
 pass may not have been included in Gen. Greene's plan of defence, 
 or may have been thought too far out of the way to need special 
 precaution. The neglect of them, however, proved fatal. Clinton 
 immediately detached a battalion of light infantry to secure the 
 pass ; and, advancing with his corps at the first break of day, 
 possessed himself of the heights. He was now within three miles 
 of Bedford, and his march had been undiscovered. 
 
 About midnight Gen. Grant moved from Gravesend Bay, with 
 the left wing, composed of two brigades and a regiment of regu- 
 lars, a battalion of New York loyahsts, and ten field-pieces. He 
 proceeded along the road leading past the Narrows and Gowanus 
 Cove, toward the right of the American w orks, A picket guard of 
 Pennsylvanian and New York militia, under Col. Atlee, retired 
 before him, fighting, to a position on the skirts of the wooded hills. 
 In the mean time scouts had brought in word to the American hnes 
 that the enemy were approaching in force upon the right. Gen. 
 Putnam instantly ordered Lord Stirhng to hasten with the two 
 regiments nearest at hand, and hold them in check. These were 
 Haslet's Delaware, and Smallwood's Maryland regiments; the 
 latter the inacarojtis, in scarlet and buff, who had outshone, in 
 camp, their yeoman fellow-soldiers in homespun. They turned out 
 with great alacrity, and Stirhng pushed fonvard with them on the 
 road toward the Narrows. By the time he had passed Gowanus 
 Cove, daylight began to appear. Here, on a rising ground, he 
 met Col. Atlee with his Pennsylvania Provincials, and learned that 
 the enemy were near. Indeed, their front began to appear in the 
 uncertain twilight. Stirling ordered Atlee to place himself in 
 ambush in an orchard on the left of the road, and await their com- 
 ing up, while he formed the Delaware and Maryland regiments 
 along a ridge from the road up to a piece of woods on the top of 
 the hill. Atlee gave the enemy two or three volleys as they 
 approached, and then retreated and formed in the wood on Loud 
 Stirling's left. By this time his lordship was reinforced by Kich- 
 line's riflemen, part of whom he placed along a hedge at the foot 
 of the hill, and part in front of the wood. Gen. Grant threw his 
 light troops in the advance, and posted them in an orchard and 
 behind hedges, extending in front of the Americans, and about 
 one hundred and fifty yards distant. It was now broad daylight. 
 A rattling fire commenced between the British light troops and the 
 American riflemen, which continued for about two hours, when the 
 
1776.] THE CATASTROPHE. 247 
 
 former retired to their main body. In the mean time, Slirhng's 
 position had been strengthened by the arrival of Capt. Carpenter 
 with two field-pieces. These were placed on the side of the hill, 
 so as to command the road and the approach for some hundred 
 yards. Gen. Grant, likewise, brought up his artillery within three 
 hundred yards, and formed his brigades on opposite hills, about 
 six hundred yards distant. There was occasional cannonading on 
 both sides, but neither party sought a general action. Lord Stir- 
 ling's object w^as merely to hold the enemy in check; and the 
 instructions of Gen. Grant were not to press an attack until aware 
 that CUnton was on the left flank of the Americans. During this 
 time, De Heister had commenced his part of the plan by opening 
 a cannonade from his camp at Flatbush, upon the redoubt, at the 
 pass of the wooded hills, where Hand and his riflemen were sta- 
 tioned. On hearing this. Gen. Sullivan, who was within the lines, 
 rode forth to Col. Hand's post to reconnoiter. De Heister, how- 
 ever, according to the plan of operations, did not advance from 
 Flatbush, but kept up a brisk fire from his artillery on the redoubt 
 in front of the pass, which replied as briskly. At the same time, a 
 cannonade from a British ship upon the battery at Red Hook, 
 contributed to distract the attention of the Americans. 
 
 Seeing no likelihood of an immediate attack upon the city, 
 Washington hastened over to Brooklyn in his barge, and galloped 
 up to the works. He arrived there in time to witness the catas- 
 trophe for which all the movements of the enemy had been con- 
 certed. The thundering of artillery in the direction of Bedford 
 had given notice that Sir Henry had turned the left of the Amer- 
 cans. De Heister immediately ordered Count Donop to advance 
 with his Hessian regiment, and storm the redoubt, while he 
 followed with his whole division. Sullivan did not remain to defend 
 the redoubt. Sir Henry's cannon had apprised him of the fatal 
 truth, that his flank was turned, and he in danger of being sur- 
 rounded. He ordered a retreat to the lines, but it was already too 
 late. Scarce had he descended from the height, and emerged into 
 the plain, when he was met by the British light infantry and dra- 
 goons, and driven back into the woods. By this time De 
 Heister and his Hessians had come up, and now commenced a 
 scene of confusion, consternation, and slaughter, in which the 
 troops under Williams and Miles w-ere involved. Hemmed in and 
 entrapped between the British and Hessians, and driven from one 
 to the other, the Americans fought for a time bravely, or rather 
 desperately. Some were cut down and trampled by the cavalry, 
 others bayoneted without mercy by the Hessians. Some rallied in 
 groups, and made a brief stand with their rifles from rocks or 
 behind trees. The whole pass was a scene of carnage, resounding 
 with the clash of arms, the tramp of horses, the volleying of fire- 
 arms and the cries of the combatants, with now and then the 
 dreary braying of the trumpet. We give the words of one who 
 mingled in the fight, and whom we have heard speak w ith horror 
 of the sanguinary fury with which the Hessians plied the bayonet. 
 At length some of the Americans, by a desperate effort, cut their 
 
248 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 way through the host of foes, and effected a retreat to the lines, 
 fighting as they went. Others took refuge among the woods and 
 fastnesses of the hills, but a great part were either killed or taken 
 prisoners. Among the latter was General Sullivan. 
 
 Washington had heard the din of the battle in the woods, and 
 seen the smoke rising from among the trees ; but a deep column of 
 the enemy was descending from the hills on the left ; his choicest 
 troops were all in action, and he had none but militia to man the 
 works. His solicitude was now awakened for the safety of Lord 
 Stirhng and his corps, who had been all the morning exchanging 
 cannonades with General Grant. He saw the danger to which 
 these brave fellows were exposed, though they could not. Stationed 
 on a hill within the lines, he commanded, with his telescope, a 
 view of the whole field, and saw the enemy's reserve, under Corn- 
 wallis, marching down by a cross-road to get in their rear and thus 
 place them between two fires. With breathless anxiety he watched 
 the result. The sound of Clinton's cannon apprised Stirhng that 
 the enemy was between him and the lines. Gen. Grant, too, aware 
 that the time had come for earnest action, was closing up, and had 
 already taken Col. Atlee prisoner. His lordship now thought to 
 effect a circuitous retreat to the lines, by crossing the creek which 
 empties into Gowanus Cove, near what was called the Yellow 
 Mills. There was a bridge and mill-dam, and the creek might be 
 forded at low water, but no time was to be lost, for the tide was 
 rising. Leaving part of his men to keep face toward Gen. Grant, 
 Stirling advanced with the rest to pass the creek, but was suddenly 
 checked by the appearance of Cornwalhs and his grenadiers, 
 Washington supposed that Stirling and his troops, finding the case 
 desperate, would surrender in a body, without firing. On the con- 
 trary, his lordship boldly attacked Cornwallis with half of Small- 
 wood's battalion, while the rest of his troops retreated across the 
 creek. Washington wrung his hands in agony at the sight. 
 "Good God!" cried he, "what brave fellows I must this day 
 lose ! " It was, indeed, a desperate fight ; and now Smallwood's 
 macaronis showed their game spirit. They were repeatedly 
 broken, but as often rallied, and renewed the fight. " We were on 
 the point of driving Lord Cornwallis from his station," writes Lord 
 Stirling " but large reinforcements arriving, rendered it impossi- 
 ble to do more than provide for safety." More than two hundred 
 and fifty brave fellows, most of them of Smallwood's regiment, 
 perished in this deadly struggle, within sight of the hnes of Brook- 
 lyn. That part of the Delaware troops who had first crossed the 
 creek and swamp, made good their retreat to the lines with a trifl- 
 ing loss, and entered the camp covered with mud and drenched 
 with water, but bringing with them twenty-three prisoners, and 
 their standard tattered by grapeshot. 
 
 The enemy now concentrated their forces within a few hundred 
 yards of the redoubts. The grenadiers were within musket shot. 
 Washington expected they would storm the works, and prepared 
 for a desperate defence. The discharge of a cannon and volleys 
 of musketry from the part of the lines nearest to them, seemed to 
 
1 776. J CAUSES OF OUR DEFEAT. 249 
 
 bring them to a pause. It was, in truth, the forbearance of the 
 British commander that prevented a bloody conflict. His troops, 
 heated with action and flushed with success, were eager to storm 
 the works ; but he was unwilling to risk the loss of life that must 
 attend an assault, when the object might be attained at a cheaper 
 rate, by regular approaches. Checking the ardor of his men, 
 therefore, though with some difficulty, he drew them off to a hollow 
 way, in front of the hnes, but out of reach of the musketry, and 
 encamped there for the night. 
 
 The loss of the Americans in this disastrous battle has been 
 variously stated, but is thought in killed, wounded and prisoners, 
 to have been nearly two thousand ; a large number, considering 
 that not above five thousand were engaged. The enemy acknow- 
 ledged a loss of 380 killed and wounded. The success of the 
 enemy was attributed, in some measure, to the doubt in which 
 Washington was kept as to the nature of the intended attack, and 
 at what point it would chiefly be made. This obliged him to keep 
 a great part of his forces in New York, and to distribute those at 
 Brooklyn over a wide extent of country, and at widely distant 
 places. In fact, he knew not the superior number of the enemy 
 encamped on Long Island, a majority of them having been fur- 
 tively landed in the night, some days after the debarkation of the 
 first division. Much of the day's disaster has been attributed, also, 
 to a confusion in the command, caused by the illness of Gen. Greene. 
 Putnam, who had supplied his place in the emergency after the 
 enemy had landed, had not time to make himself acquainted with 
 the post, and the surrounding country. The fatal error, however, 
 and one probably arising from all these causes, consisted in 
 leaving tlie passes through the wooded hills too weakly fortified 
 and guarded ; and especially in neglecting the eastern road, by 
 which Sir Henry Clinton got in the rear of the advanced troops, 
 cut them off from the lines, and subjected them to a cross fire of 
 his own men and De Heister's Hessians. This able and fatal 
 scheme of the enemy might have been thwarted, had the army 
 been provided with a few troops of light-horse, to serve as vedettes. 
 With these to scour the roads and bring intelligence, the night 
 march of Clinton, so decisive of the fortunes of the day, could 
 hardly have failed to be discovered and reported. The Connecti- 
 cut horsemen, therefore, ridiculed by the Southerners for their 
 homely equipments, sneered at as useless, and dismissed for stand- 
 ing on their dignity and privileges as troopers, might, if retained, 
 have saved tlie army from being surprised and severed, its 
 advanced guards routed, and those very Southern troops cut up, 
 captured, and almost annihilated. 
 
 The night after the battle was a weary, yet almost sleepless one 
 to the Americans. Fatigued, dispirited, many of them sick and 
 wounded, yet they were, for the most part, without tent or other 
 shelter. To Washington it was a night of anxious vigil. Every- 
 boded a close and deadly conflict. The enemy had pitched a 
 number of tents about a mile distant. Their sentries were but a 
 quarter of a mile off, and close to the American sentries. At four 
 
250 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 o'clock in the morning, Washington went the roimd of the works, 
 to see that all was right, and to speak words of encouragement. 
 The morning broke lowering and dreary. Large encampments 
 were gradually descried ; to appearance, the enemy were twenty 
 thousand strong. As the day advanced, their ordinance began to 
 play upon the works. They were proceeding to intrench them- 
 selves, but were driven into their tents by a drenching rain. 
 
 Early in the morning General Mifflin arrived in camp, with part 
 of the troops which had been stationed at Fort Washington and 
 King's Bridge. He brought with him Shee's prime Philadelphia 
 regiment, and Magaw's Pennsylvania regiment, both well 
 disciphned and officered, and accustomed to act together. 
 They were so much reduced in number, however, by sick- 
 ness, that they did not amount in the whole to more than eight 
 hundred men. With Miftlin came also Col. Glover's Massachu- 
 setts regiment, composed chiefly of Marblehead fishermen, and 
 sailors, hardy, adroit, and weather-proof ; trimly clad in blue jack- 
 ets and trowsers. The detachment numbered, in the whole, 
 about thirteen hundred men, all fresh and full of spirits. Every 
 eye brightened as they marched briskly along the line with alert 
 step and cheery aspect. They were posted at the left extremity of 
 the intrenchments toward the Wallabout. 
 
 On the 29th, there was a dense fog over the island, that wrapped 
 everything in mystery. In the course of the morning, Gen. Mif- 
 flin, with Adj. Gen. Reed, and Col. Grayson of Virginia, one of 
 Washington's aides-de-camp, rode to the western outposts, in the 
 neighborhood of Red Hook. While they were there, a light breeze 
 lifted the fog from a part of the New York bay, and revealed the 
 British ships at their anchorage opposite Staten Island. There 
 appeared to be an unusual bustle among them. Boats were pas- 
 sing to and from the admiral's ship, as if seeking or carrying 
 orders. Some movement was apparently in agitation. The idea 
 occurred to the reconnoitering party that the fleet was preparing, 
 should the wind hold and the fog clear away, to come up the bay 
 at the turn of the tide, silence the feeble batteries at Red 
 Hook and the city, and anchor in the East River. In that case 
 the army on Long Island would be completely surrounded and 
 entrapped. Alarmed at this perilous probability, they spurred 
 back to head-quarters, to urge the immediate withdrawal of the 
 army. Washington instantly summoned a council of war. The 
 difficulty was already apparent, of guarding such extensive works 
 with troops fatigued and dispirited, and exposed to the inclemen- 
 cies of the weather. Other dangers now presented themselves. 
 Their communication with New York might be cut off by the fleet 
 from below. Other ships had passed round Long Island, and were 
 at Flushing Bay on the Sound. These might land troops on the 
 east side of Harlem River, and make themselves masters of 
 King's Bridge ; that key of Manhattan Island. Taking all these 
 things into consideration, it was resolved to cross with the troops 
 to the city that very night. Never did retreat require greater 
 secrecy and circumspection. Nine thousand men, with all the 
 
THOMAS PAINE. 
 
1776.] RETREA T FROM LONG ISLAND. 251 
 
 munitions of war, were to be withdrawn from before a victorious 
 army, encamped so near, that every stroke of spade and pick- 
 axe from their trenches could be heard. The retreating troops, 
 moreover, were to be embarked and conveyed across a strait 
 three quarters of a mile wide, swept by rapid tides. The least 
 alarm of their movement would bring the enemy up)on them, and 
 produce a terrible scene of confusion and carnage at the place 
 of embarkation. Washington made the preparatory arrangements 
 with great alertness, yet profound secrecy. Verbal orders were 
 sent to Col. Hughes, who acted as quartermaster-general, to impress 
 all water craft, large and small, from Spuyten Dnyvil on the Hud- 
 son round to Hell Gate on the Sound, and have them on the east 
 side of the city by evening. The order was issued at noon, and 
 so promptly executed, that, although some of the vessels had to be 
 brought a distance of fifteen miles, they were all at Brooklyn at 
 eight o'clock in the evening, and put under the management of 
 Col. Glover's amphibious Marblehead regiment. To prepare the 
 army for a general movement without betraying the object, orders 
 were issued for the troops to hold themselves in readiness for a 
 night attack upon the enemy. The orders caused surprise, for the 
 poor fellows were exhausted, and their arms rendered nearly use- 
 less by the rain ; all, however, prepared to obey ; but several 
 made nuncupative wills ; as is customary among soldiers on the 
 eve of sudden and deadly peril. It was late in the evening when 
 the troops began to retire from the breastworks. As one regiment 
 quietly withdrew from their station on guard, the troops on the 
 right and left moved up and filled the vacancy. There was a 
 stifled murmur in the camp, unavoidable in a movement of the 
 kind ; but it gradually died away in the direction of the river, 
 as the main body moved on in silence and order. The youth- 
 ful Hamilton, whose mihtary merits had won the favor of Gen. 
 Greene, and who had lost his baggage and a field-piece in the 
 battle, brought up the rear of the retreating party. In the dead 
 of the night, and in the midst of this hushed and anxious move- 
 ment, a cannon went off with a tremendous roar. "The effect," 
 says an American who was present, "was at once alarming and 
 sublime. If the explosion was within our lines, the gun was 
 probably discharged in the act of spiking it, and could have 
 been no less a matter of speculation to the enemy than to our- 
 selves. What with the greatness of the stake, the darkness of the 
 night, the uncertainty of the design, and the extreme hazard of the 
 issue, it would be difficult to conceive a more deeply solemn and 
 interesting scene." The meaning of this midnight gun was never 
 ascertained ; fortunately, though it startled the Americans, it failed 
 to rouse the British camp. In the mean time the embarkation 
 went on with all possible dispatch, under the vigilanteye of Wash- 
 ington, who stationed himself at the ferry, superintending every 
 movement. By this time the tide had turned ; there was a strong 
 wind from the northeast ; the boats with oars were insufficient to 
 convey the troops ; those with sails could not make headway 
 against wind and tide. There was some confusion at the ferry, 
 
252 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and in the midst of it, Gen. Mifflin came down with the whole 
 covering party ; adding to the embarrassment and uproar. " Good 
 God! General Mifflin!" cried Washington, "I am afraid you have 
 ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the 
 lines." "I did so by your order," replied Mifflin with some 
 •warmth. "It cannot be !" exclaimed Washington. "Did Scam- 
 mel act as aide-de-camp for the day, or did he not?" "He did." 
 "Then," said Mifflin, "I had orders through him." "It is a 
 dreadful mistake," rejoined Washington, "and unless the troops 
 can regain the lines before their absence is discovered by the 
 enemy, the most disastrous consequences are to be apprehended." 
 
 Mifflin led back his men to the lines, which had been completely 
 deserted for three-quarters of an hour. Fortunately, the dense 
 fog had prevented the enemy from discovering that they were un- 
 occupied. The men resumed their fonner posts, and remained at 
 them until called off to cross the ferry. "Whoever has seen troops 
 in a similar situation," Avrites Gen. Heath, "or duly contemplates 
 the human heart in such trials, will know how to appreciate the 
 conduct of these brave men on this occasion." 
 
 The fog which prevailed all this time, seemed almost provident- 
 ial. Wliile it hung over Long Island, and concealed the move- 
 ments of the Americans, the atmosphere was clear on the New 
 York side of the river. The adverse ^vind, too, died away, the 
 I iver became so smooth that the row-boats could be laden almost 
 to the gunwale ; and a favoring breeze sprang up for the sail-boats. 
 The whole embarkation of troops, artillery, ammunition, provisions, 
 cattle, horses and carts, was happily effected, and by daybreak the 
 j^reater part had safely reached the city, thanks to the aid of 
 Glover's Marblehead men. Scarce anything was abandoned to 
 the enemy, excepting a few heavy pieces of artillery. At a proper 
 time, Mifilin \vith his covering party left the lines, and effected a 
 silent retreat to the ferry. Washington, though repeatedly 
 entreated, refused to enter a boat until all the troops were em- 
 barked ; and crossed the river -with the last. A Long Island 
 tradition tells how the British camp became aware of the march 
 which had been stolen upon it. Near the ferry resided a Mrs. 
 Rapelye, whose husband, suspected of favoring the enemy, had 
 been removed to the interior of New Jersey. On seeing the 
 embarkation of the fust detachment, she, out of loyalty or revenge, 
 sent off a black servant to inform the first British officer he could 
 find, of what was going on. The negro succeeded in passing the 
 American sentinels, but arrived at a Hessian outpost, where he 
 could not make himself understood, and was put under guard as a 
 suspicious person. There he was kept until daybreak, when an 
 officer visiting the post, examined him, and was astounded by his 
 story. An alarm was given, the troops were called to arms ; Capt. 
 Montresor, aide-de-camp of Gen. Howe, followed by a handful of 
 men, climbed cautiously over the crest of the works and found 
 them deserted. Advanced parties were hurried down to the ferry. 
 The fog had cleared away, sufficiently for them to see the rear 
 boats of the retreating arni^ half way across the river. This ex- 
 
1776.] THE ARMY SA VED. 253 
 
 traordinary retreat, which, in its silence and celerity, equaled the 
 midnight fortifying of Bunker's Hill, was one of the most signal 
 achievements of the war, and redounded greatly to the reputation 
 of Washington, who, we are told, for forty-eight hours preceding 
 the safe extricating of his army from their perilous situation, scarce 
 closed his eyes, and was the greater part of the time on horseback. 
 Many, however, who considered the variety of risks and dangers 
 which surrounded the camp, and the apparently fortuitous circum- 
 stances which averted them all, were disposed to attribute the safe 
 retreat of the patriot army to a peculiar Providence. 
 
 The enemy had now possession of Long Island. British and 
 Hessian troops garrisoned the works at Brooklyn, or were dis- 
 tributed at Bushwick, Newton, Hell Gate and Flushing. Admiral 
 Howe came up with the main body of the fleet, and anchored close 
 to Governor's Island, within cannon shot of the city. On the night 
 of Monday (Sept. 2d), a forty-gun ship, taking advantage of a 
 favorable wind and tide, passed between Governor's Island and 
 Long Island, swept unharmed by the batteries which opened upon 
 her, and anchored in Turtle Bay, above the city. In the morning 
 Washington dispatched Major Crane of the artillery, Avith two 
 twelve-pounders and a howitzer to annoy her from the New York 
 shore. They hulled her several times, and obliged her to take 
 shelter behind Blackwell's Island. Several other ships-of-war, 
 with transports and store-ships, had made their appearance in the 
 upper part of the Sound, having gone round Long Island. As the 
 city might speedily be attacked, Washington caused all the sick 
 and wounded to be conveyed to Orangetown, in the Jerseys, and 
 such military stores and baggage as were not immediately needed, 
 to be removed, as fast as conveyances could be procured, to a post 
 partially fortified at Dobbs Ferry, on the eastern bank of the 
 Hudson, about twenty-two miles above the city. 
 
 The British, in the mean time, forbore to press further hostilities. 
 Lord Howe was really desirous of a peaceful adjustment of the 
 strife between the colonies and the mother country,- and supposed 
 this a propitious moment for a new attempt at jDacification. He 
 accordingly sent off Gen. Sulhvan on parole, charged with an 
 overture to Congress. In this he declared himself empowered and 
 disposed to compromise the dispute between Great Britain and 
 America on the most favorable terms, and, though he could not 
 treat with Congress as a legally organized body, he was desirous 
 of a conference with some of its members. These, for the time, he 
 should consider only as private gentlemen, but if in the conference 
 any probable scheme of accommodation should be agreed upon, 
 the atithority of Congress would afterward be acknowledged, to 
 render the compact complete. After much debate, Congress, on 
 the 5th September, replied, that being the representatives of the 
 free and independent States of America, they could not send any 
 members to confer with his lordship in their private characters, but 
 that, ever desirous of establishing peace on reasonable terms, they 
 would send a committee of their body to ascertain what authority 
 he had to treat with persons authorized by Congress, and what 
 
254 LJFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 piopositious he had to offer. A committee was chosen on the 6th 
 of September, composed of John Adams, Edward Rutledge, and 
 Doctor Franklin. The latter, in the preceding year, during his 
 residence in England, had become acquainted with Lord Howe, at 
 the house of his lordship's sister, the honorable Mrs. Howe, and 
 they held frequent conversations on the subject of American affairs, 
 in the course of which, his lordship had intimated the possibihty 
 of his. being sent commissioner to setde the difference in America. 
 Franklin had recently adverted to this in a letter to Lord Howe. 
 " Your lordship may possibly remember the tears of joy that wet 
 my cheek, when, at your good sister's in Loudon, you gave me ex- 
 pectations that a reconciliation might soon take place. I had the 
 misfortune to find those expectaUons disappointed." 
 
 The proposed conference was to take place on the llth, at a 
 house on Staten Island, opposite to Amboy ; at which latter place 
 the veteran Mercer was stationed with his flying camp. At Am- 
 boy, the committee found Lord Howe's barge waiung to receive 
 them. The admiral met them on their landing, and conducted 
 them through his guards to his house. On opening the confer- 
 ence, his lordship again intimated that he could not treat with 
 them as a committee of Congress, but only confer with them as 
 private gentlemen of influence in the colonies, on the means of 
 restoring peace between the two countries. The commissioners 
 replied that, as their business was to hear, he might consider them 
 in what light he pleased ; but that they should consider themselves 
 in no other character than that in which they were placed by order 
 of Congress. Lord Howe then entered into a discourse of consid- 
 erable length, but made no explicit proposition of peace, nor prom- 
 ise of redress of grievances, excepting on condition that the coh 
 onies should return to their allegiance. This, the commissioners 
 replied, was not now to be expected. Their repeated humble peti- 
 tions to the king and parliament having been treated with con- 
 tempt, and answered by additional injuries, and war having been 
 declared against them, the colonies had declared their indepen- 
 dence, and it was not in the power of Congress to agree for them 
 that they should return to their former dependent state. His lord- 
 ship expressed his sorrow that no accommodation was likely to 
 take place ; and, on breaking up the conference, assured his old 
 friend, Dr. Franklin, that he should suffer great pain in being 
 obliged to distress those for whom he had so much regard. " I 
 feel thankful to your lordship for your regard," replied Franklin 
 good-humoredly; " the Americans, on their part, will endeavor to 
 lessen the pain you may feel, by taking good care of themselves.* 
 
 Since the retreat from Brooklyn, Washington had narrowly, 
 watched the movements of the enemy to discover their further 
 pkins. Their whole force, excepting about four thousand men, 
 had been transferred from Staten to Long Island. A great 
 part was encamped on the peninsula between Newtown Inlet and 
 Flushing Bay. A battery had been thrown up near the extremity 
 of the peninsula, to check an American battery at Horen's Hook 
 opposite, and to command the mouth of Harlem River. Troops 
 
1776.] ABANDONING THE CITY. 255 
 
 were subsequently stationed on the islands about Hell Gate. " It 
 is evident," writes Washington, "the enemy mean to inclose us 
 on the island of New York, by taking post in our rear, while the 
 shipping secures the front, and thus, by cutting off our communi- 
 cation with the country, oblige us to fight them on their own terms, 
 or surrender at discretion ; or by a brilliant stroke endeavor to cut 
 this army in pieces, and secure the collection of arms and stores, 
 which, they well know, we shall not be able soon to replace." 
 In a council of war, held on the 7th of September, the question 
 was discussed, whether the city should be defended or evacuated. 
 All admitted that it would not be tenable, should it be cannonaded 
 and bombarded. By removing, they would deprive the enemy of 
 the advantage of their ships ; they would keep the«i at bay ; put 
 nothing at hazard ; keep the army together to be recruited another 
 year, and preserve the unspent stores and the heavy artillery. 
 Washington himself inclined to this opinion. Gen. Greene, in a 
 letter to Washington, dated Sept. 5th, advised that the army 
 should abandon both city and island, and post itself at King's 
 Bridge and along the Westchester shore. That there was no 
 object to be obtained by holding any position below King's Bridge. 
 The city and island, he observed, were objects not to be put in 
 competition with the general interests of America. Two-thirds 
 of the city and suburbs belonged to tories, there was no great 
 reason, therefore, to run any considerable risk in its defence. The 
 honor and interest of America required a general and speedy re- 
 treat. But as the enemy, once in possession, could never be dis- 
 lodged without a superior naval force ; as the place would furnish 
 them with excellent winter quarters and barrack room, and an 
 abundant market, he advised to burn both city and suburbs before 
 retreating. Well might the poor, harassed citizens feel hyster- 
 ical, threatened as they were by sea and land, and their very 
 defenders debating the policy of burning their houses over their 
 heads. Fortunately for them. Congress had expressly forbidden 
 that any harm should be done to New York, trusting, that though 
 the enemy might occupy it for a time, it would ultimately be 
 regained. After much discussion a middle course was adopted, 
 Putnam, with five thousand men, was to be stationed in the city. 
 Heath, with nine thousand, was to keep guard on the upper 
 part of the island, and oppose any attempt of the enemy to land. 
 The third division, composed principally of militia, was under the 
 command of Generals Greene and Spencer, the former of 
 whom, however, was still unwell. It was stationed about the cen- 
 ter of the island, chiefly along Turtle Bay and Kip's Bay, where 
 strong works had been thrown up, to guard against any landing of 
 troops from the ships or from the encampments on Long Island. 
 It was also to hold itself ready to support either of the other divis- 
 ions. W^ashington himself had his headquarters at a short dis- 
 tance from the city. A resolution of Congress, passed the loth of 
 September, left the occupation or abandonment of the city entirely 
 at Washington's discretion. Convinced of the propriety of evacu- 
 ation, Washington prepared for it by ordering the removal of all 
 
256 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 stores, excepting such as were indispensable for the subsistence of 
 the troops while they remained. About sunset of the 14th of Sep- 
 tember, six ship3, two of them men-of-war, passed up the Sound 
 and joined those above. Within half an hour came expresses 
 spurring to headquarters, one from Mifflin at King's Bridge, the 
 other from Col. Sargent at Horen's Hook. Three or four thousand 
 of the enemy were crossing at Hell Gate to the islands at the 
 mouth of Harlem River, where numbers were already encamped. 
 An immediate landing at Harlem, or Morrisania, was appre- 
 hended. Washington was instantly in the saddle, spurring to 
 Harlem Heights. The night, however, passed away quietly. In 
 the morning the enemy commenced operations. Three ships of 
 war stood up the Hudson, "causing a most tremendous firing, 
 assisted by the cannons of Governor's Island, which firing was 
 returned from the city as well as the scarcity of heavy cannon 
 would allow." The ships anchored opposite Bloomingdale, a few 
 miles above the city, and put a stop to the removal by water of 
 stores and provisions to Dobbs' Ferry. About eleven o'clock, the 
 ships in the East River commenced a heavy cannonade upon the 
 breastworks between Turtle Bay and the city. At the same time 
 two divisions of the troops encamped on Long Island, one British, 
 under Sir Henry Clinton, the other Hessian, under Col. Donop, 
 emerged in boats from the deep, woody recesses of Newton Inlet, 
 and under cover of the fire from the ships, began to land at two 
 points between Turtle and Kip's Bays. The breastworks were 
 manned by militia who had recently served at Brooklyn. Dis- 
 heartened by their late defeat, they fled at the first advance of the 
 enemy. Two brigades of Putnam's Connecticut troops {Parsons' 
 and Fellows') which had been sent that morning to support them, 
 caught the panic, and regardless of the commands and entreaties 
 of their officers, joined in the general scamper. At this moment 
 Washington, who had mounted his horse at the first sound of the 
 cannonade, came galloping to the scene of confusion ; riding in 
 among the fugitives, he endeavored to rally and restore them to 
 order. All in vain. At the first appearance of sixty or seventy 
 red coats, they broke again without firing a shot, and fled in head- 
 long terror. Losing all self-command at the sight of such das- 
 tardly conduct, he dashed his hat upon the ground in a transport 
 of rage. "Are these the men," exclaimed he, "with whom I am 
 to defend America!" In a paroxysm of passion and despair he 
 snapped his pistols at some of them, threatened others with his 
 sword, and was so heedless of his own danger, that he might have 
 fallen into the hands of the enemy, who were not eighty yards 
 distant, had not an aide-de-camp seized the bridle of his horse, 
 and absolutely hurried him away. It was one of the rare moments 
 of his life, when the vehement element of his nature was stirred 
 up from its deep recesses. He soon recovered his self-possession, 
 and took measures against the general peril. The enemy might 
 land another force about Hell Gate, seize upon Harlem Heights, 
 the strong central portion of the island, cut off all retreat of the 
 lower divisions, and effectually sever his army. In all haste, there- 
 
1776.] THE BRITISH ADVANCE. 257 
 
 fore, he sent off an express to the forces encamped above, direct- 
 ing them to secure that position immediately ; while another 
 express to Putnam, ordered an immediate retreat from the city to 
 those heights. Putnam called in his pickets and guards, and 
 abandoned the city in all haste, leaving behind him a large quan- 
 tity of provisions and military stores, and most of the heavy 
 cannon. To avoid the enemy he took the Bloomingdale road, 
 though this exposed him to be raked by the ships anchored in the 
 Hudson. It was a forced march, on a sultry day, under a burning 
 sun and amid clouds of dust. His army was encumbered with 
 women and children and all kinds of baggage. Many were over- 
 come by fatigue and thirst, some perished by hastily drinking cold 
 water; but Putnam rode backward and forward, hurrying every 
 one on. Col, Humphreys, at that time a volunteer in his division, 
 writes: " I had frequent opportunities that day of beholding him, 
 for the purpose of issuing orders and encouraging the troops, flying 
 on his horse covered with foam, wherever his presence was most 
 necessary. Without his extraordinary exertions, the guards must 
 have been inevitably lost, and it is probable the entire corps would 
 have been cut in pieces. When we were not far from Blooming- 
 dale, an aide-de-camp came to him at full speed, to inform him 
 that a column of British infantry was descending upon our right. 
 Our rear was soon fired upon, and the colonel of our regiment, 
 whose order was just communicated for the front to file off to the 
 left, was killed upon the spot. With no other loss, we joined the 
 army after dark upon the heights of Harlem." Tradition gives a 
 circumstance which favored Putnam's retreat. The British gen- 
 erals, in passing by Murray Hill, the country residence of a 
 patriot of that name who was of the Society of Friends, made a 
 halt to seek some refreshments. The proprietor of the house was 
 absent ; but his wife set cake and wine before them in abundance. 
 So grateful were these refreshments in the heat of the day, that 
 they lingered over their wine, quaffing and laughing, and banter- 
 ing their patriotic hostess about the ludicrous panic and discom- 
 fiture of her countrymen. In the mean time, before they were 
 roused from their regale, Putnam and his forces had nearly passed 
 by, within a mile of them. All the loss sustained by him in his 
 perilous retreat, was fifteen killed, and about three hundred taken 
 prisoners. It became, adds the tradition, a common saying among 
 the American officers, that Mrs. Murray saved Putnam's division 
 of the army. 
 
 The fortified camp, where the main body of the army was now 
 assembled, was upon that neck of land several miles long, and for 
 the most part not above a mile wide, which forms the upper part 
 of Manhattan or New York Island. It forms a chain of rocky- 
 heights, and is separated from the mainland by Harlem River, a 
 narrow strait, extending from Hell Gate on the Sound, to Spuyten 
 Duyvil, a creek or inlet of the Hudson, Fort Washington occu- 
 pied the crest of one of the rocky heights above mentioned, over- 
 looking the Hudson, and about two miles north of it was King's 
 Bridge, crossing Spuyten Duyvil Creek, and fonning at that time 
 
258 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the only pass from Manhattan Island to the mainland. About a 
 mile and a half south of the fort, a double row of hnes extended 
 across the neck from Harlem River to the Hudson. They faced 
 south toward New York, were about a quarter of a mile apart, and 
 were defended by batteries. There were strong advanced posts, 
 about two miles south of the outer line ; one on the left of Harlem, 
 commanded by Gen. Spencer, the other on the right, at what was 
 called McGowan's Pass, commanded by General Putnam. About 
 a mile and a half beyond these posts the British lines extended 
 across the island from Horen's Hook to the Hudson, being a con- 
 tinuous encampment, two miles in length, with both flanks covered 
 by shipping. An open plain intervened between the hostile camps. 
 Washington had established his headquarter about a quartes of a 
 mile within the inner line ; at a country-seat, the owners of which 
 were absent. It belonged in fact to Col. Roger Morris, his early 
 companion in arms in Braddock's campaign, and his successful 
 competitor for the hand of Miss Mary Philipse. Morris had 
 remained in America, enjoying the wealth he had acquired by his 
 marriage ; but had adhered to the royal party, and was a member 
 of the council of the colony. It is said that at this time he was 
 residing in the Highlands at Beverly, the seat of his brother-in- 
 law, Washington's old friend, Beverly Robinson. While thus 
 posted, Washington was incessantly occupied in fortifying the 
 approaches to his camp by redoubts, abatis, and deep intrench- 
 ments, "Here," said he, "I should hope the enemy, in case of 
 attack, would meet a defeat, if the generality of our troops would 
 behave with tolerable bravery; I trust there are many who will 
 act like men worthy of the blessings of freedom." In the course 
 of his rounds of inspection, he was struck with the skill and 
 science displayed in the construction of some of the works, which 
 were thrown up under the direction of a youthful captain of artil- 
 lery. It proved to be the same young officer, Alexander Hamil- 
 ton, whom Greene had recommended to his notice. After some 
 conversation with him, Washington invited him to his marquee, 
 and thus commenced that intercourse which has indissolubly 
 linked their memories together. 
 
 On the morning of the i6th, word was brought to headquarters 
 that the enemy were advancing in three large columns. There 
 had been so many false reports, that Reed, the adjutant-general, 
 obtained leave to sally out and ascertain the truth. Washington 
 himself soon mounted his horse and rode toward the advanced 
 posts. On arriving there he heard a brisk firing. It was kept up 
 for a time with great spirit. There was evidently a sharp conflict. 
 At length Reed came galloping back with information. A strong 
 detachment of the enemy had attacked the most advanced post, 
 which was situated on a hill skirted by a wood. It had been 
 bravely defended by Lieut.-Col. Knowlton, Putnam's favorite 
 officer, who had distinguished himself at Bunker's Hill; he had 
 under him a party of Connecticut rangers, volunteers from different 
 regiments. After skirmishing for a time, the party had been over- 
 powered by numbers and driven in, and the outpost was taken 
 
1776.] A SUCCESSFUL SKIRMISH. 259 
 
 possession of by the enemy. Washington ordered out three com- 
 panies from Colonel Weedon's regiment just arrived from Virginia, 
 and sent them under Major Leitch, to join Knowlton's rangers. 
 The troops thus united were to get in the rear of the enemy, while 
 a feigned attack was made upon them in front. As the force 
 advanced to make the false attack, the enemy ran down the hill, 
 and took what they considered an advantageous position behind 
 son-ie fences and bushes which skirted it. A firing commenced 
 between them and the advancing party, but at too great distance 
 to do much harm on either side. In the mean time, Knowlton and 
 Leitch, ignorant of this change in the enemy's position, having 
 made a circuit, came upon them in flank instead of in rear. They 
 were sharply received. A vivid contest took place, in which Con- 
 necticut vied with Virginia in bravery. In a little while Major 
 Leitch received three bullets in his side, and was borne off the 
 field. Shortly afterward, a wound in the head from a musket ball 
 brought Knowlton to the ground. Col. Reed placed him on his 
 horse, and conveyed him to a distant redoubt. The men, undis- 
 mayed by the fall of their leaders, fought with unflinching resolu- 
 tion under the command of their captains. The enemy were 
 reinforced by a battalion of Hessians and a company of chasseurs. 
 Washington likewise sent reinforcements of New England and 
 Maryland troops. The action waxed hotter and hotter; the enemy 
 were driven from the wood into the plain, and pushed for some 
 distance ; the Americans were pursuing them with ardor, when 
 Washington, having effected the object of this casual encounter, 
 and being unwilhng to risk a general action, ordered a retreat to 
 be sounded. His men retired in good order; and, as it subse- 
 quently appeared, in good season, for the main body of the enemy 
 were advancing at a rapid rate, and might have effectually 
 reversed the scene. Col, Knowlton did not long survive the 
 action. "When gasping in the agonies of death," says Col. 
 Reed, " all his inquiry was whether he had driven in the enemy." 
 He was anxious for the tarnished honor of Connecticut. He 
 had the dytng satisfaction of knowing that his men had behaved 
 bravely, and driven the enemy in an open field-fight. So closed 
 his gallant career. 
 
 The encounter thus detailed was the first gleam of success in the 
 campaign, and revived the spirits of the army. Washington 
 sought to turn it to the greatest advantage. In his general orders, 
 he skilfully distributed praise and censure. The troops under 
 Leitch were thanked for being the first to advance upon the 
 enemy ; and the New England troops for gallantly supporting 
 them. Of Knowlton, who had fallen while gloriously fighting, he 
 spoke as " one who would have done honor to any country." The 
 name of Leitch was given by him for the next day's parole. That 
 brave officer died of his wounds on the 1st of October, soothed in 
 his last moments by that recompense so dear to a soldier's heart, 
 the encomium of a beloved commander. 
 
 In the dead of the night, on the 20th Sept., a great light was 
 beheld by the picket guards, looming up from behind the hills in 
 
26o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the direction of the city. It continued throughout the night, and 
 was at times so strong that the heavens in that direction appeared 
 to them, they said, as if in flames. At daybreak huge columns of 
 smoke were still rising. It was evident there had been a great 
 conflagration in New York. In the course of the morning Capt. 
 Montresor, aide-de-camp to Gen. Howe, came out with a flag, 
 bearing a letter to Washington on the subject of an exchange of 
 prisoners. According to Montresor's account a great part of the 
 city had been burned down, and as the night was extremely 
 windy, the whole might have been so, but for the exertions of the 
 officers and men of the British army. 
 
 The enemy were now bringing up their heavy cannon, prepara- 
 tory to an attack upon the American camp by the troops and by 
 the ships. What was the state of Washington's army ? The terms 
 of engagement of many of his men would soon be at an end, most 
 of them would terminate with the year, nor did Congress hold out 
 offers to encourage reenlistments. " We are now, as it were, upon 
 the eve of another dissolution of the army," writes he, "and unless 
 some speedy and effectual measures are adopted by Congress, our 
 cause will be lost." Under these gloomy apprehensions, he bor- 
 rowed, as he said, "a few moments from the hours allotted to 
 sleep," and on the night of the 24th of September, penned an 
 admirable letter to the President of Congress, setting forth the 
 total inefficiency of the existing military system, the total insubor- 
 dination, waste, confusion, and discontent produced by it among 
 the men, and the harassing cares and vexations to which it sub- 
 jected the commanders. Nor did he content himself with com- 
 plaining, but, in his full, clear, and sagacious manner, pointed out 
 the remedies. To the achievements of his indefatigable pen, we 
 may trace the most fortunate turns in the current of our revolu- 
 tionary affairs. In the present instance his representations, illus- 
 trated by sad experience, produced at length a reorganization of 
 the army, and the establishment of it on a permanent footing. It 
 was decreed that eighty-eight battalions should be furnished in 
 quotas, by the different States, according to their abilities. The 
 pay of the officers was raised. The troops which engaged to 
 serve throughout the war were to receive a bounty of twenty dol- 
 lars and one hundred acres of land, besides a yearly suit of 
 clothes while in service. Those who enlisted for but three years, 
 received no bounty in land. 
 
 Washington was gratified, by effecting, after a long correspon- 
 dence with the British commander, an exchange of prisoners, in 
 which those captured in Canada were included. Among those 
 restored to the service were Lord Stirling and Captain Daniel 
 Morgan. The latter, in reward of his good conduct m the expedi- 
 tion with Arnold, and of "his intrepid behavior in the assault upon 
 Quebec where the brave Montgomery fell," was recommended to 
 Congress by Washington for the command of a rifle regiment 
 about to be raised. 
 
 Nothing perplexed Washington at this juncture more than the 
 conduct of the enemy. He beheld before him a hostile army, 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
1776.] THE BRITISH ON THE HUDSON. 261 
 
 armed and equipped at all points, superior in numbers, thoroughly 
 disciplined, flushed with success, and abounding in the means of 
 pushing a vigorous campaign, yet suffering day after day to elapse 
 unimproved. In this uncertainty, he wrote to General Mercer, of 
 the flying camp, to keep a vigilant watch from the Jersey shore on 
 the movements of the enemy, by sea and land, and to station 
 vedettes on the Neversink Heights, to give immediate intelligence 
 should any of the British fleet put to sea. At the same time he 
 himself practiced unceasing vigilance, visiting the difterent parts 
 of his camp on horseback. Occasionally he crossed over to Fort 
 Constitution, on the Jersey shore, of which Major-Gen. Greene had 
 charge, and, accompanied by him, extended his reconnoiterings 
 down to Paulus Hook, to observe what was going on in the city 
 and among the enemy's ships. 
 
 The security of the Hudson was at this time an object of great 
 solicitude with Congress, and much reliance was placed on Put- 
 nam's obstructions at Fort Washington. Four galleys, mounted 
 with heavy guns and swivels, were stationed at the chevaux-de- 
 frise, and two new ships were at hand, which, filled with stones, 
 were to be sunk where they would block up the channel. The 
 obstructions were so commanded by batteries on each shore, that 
 it was thought no hostile ship would be able to pass. On the 9th 
 of October, however, the Roebuck and Phoenix, each of forty-four 
 guns, and the Tartar, of twenty guns, which had been lying for 
 some time opposite Bloomingdale, broke through the vaunted bar- 
 riers as through a cobweb. Seven batteries kept up a constant fire 
 upon them, yet a gentleman was observed walking the deck of the 
 second ship as coolly as if nothing were the matter. The hostile 
 ships kept on their course, the American vessels scudding before 
 them. The two new ships drove ashore at Philips' Mills at Yonk- 
 ers. Two of the galleys got into a place of safety, where they 
 were protected from the shore ; the other two trusted to outsail 
 their pursuers. The breeze freshened, and the frigates gained on 
 them fast ; at 1 1 o'clock began to fire on them with their bow- 
 chasers, and at 12 o'clock overreached them, which caused them 
 to bear inshore ; at half-past one the galleys ran aground just 
 above Dobbs' Ferry, and lay exposed to a shower of grape-shot. 
 The crews, without stopping to burn or bilge them, swam on shore, 
 and the enemy took possession of the two galleys, which were 
 likely to be formidable means of annoyance in their hands. Wash- 
 ington sent off a party of rifle and artillery men, with two twelve- 
 pounders, to secure the new ships which had run aground at Yon- 
 kers, and ordered Col. Sargent to march up along the eastern 
 shore with five hundred infantry, a troop of light-horse, and a 
 detachment of artillery, to prevent the landing of the enemy. He 
 also gave orders to complete the obstructions. Two hulks which 
 lay in Spuyten Duyvil Creek were hastily ballasted by men from 
 General Heath's division, and men were sent up to get off the ships 
 which had run aground at Philips' Mills, that they might be 
 brought down and sunk immediately. Brig. Gen. James Clinton, 
 (promoted by Congress, on the 8th of August), was charged to 
 
262 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 have all boats passing up and down the river rigidly searched, and 
 the passengers examined. A barge, was to patrol the river oppo- 
 site to each fort every night; all barges, row-boats, and other small 
 craft, between the forts in the Highlands and the army, were to be 
 secured in a place of safety, to prevent their falling into the enemy's 
 hand and giving intelligence. A French engineer was sent up to 
 aid in strengthening and securing the passes. October I Ith a small 
 vessel, sloop-rigged, with a topsail, was descried from Mount 
 Washington, coming down the river with a fresh breeze. It was 
 suspected by those on the look-out to be one of the British tenders, 
 and they gave it a shot from a twelve-pounder. Their aim was 
 unfortunately too true. Three of the crew were killed and the cap- 
 tain wounded. It proved to be Washington's yacht, which had 
 run up the river previously to the enemy's ships, and was now on 
 its return. 
 
 Washington received intelligence by express from General 
 Heath, stationed above King's Bridge, that the enemy were land- 
 ing with artillery on Throg's Neck in the Sound, about nine miles 
 from the camp. He surmised that Howe was pursuing his orig- 
 inal plan of getting into the rear of the American army, cutting ofif 
 its supplies, which were chiefly derived from the East, and inter- 
 rupting itscommunication with the main country. He mounted his 
 horse, and rode over toward Throg's Neck, a peninsula in West- 
 chester County, stretching upward of two miles into the Sound. It 
 was separated from the mainland by a narrow creek and a marsh, 
 and was surrounded by water every high tide. A bridge across a 
 creek connecting with a ruined causeway across the marsh, led to 
 the mainland, and the upper end of the creek w-as fordable at low 
 water. Early in the morning, eighty or ninety boats full of men 
 had stood up the Sound from Montresor's Island, and 
 Long Island, and had landed troops to the number of 
 four thousand on Throg's Point, the extremity of the neck. 
 Thence their advance pushed forward toward the cause- 
 way and bridge, to secure that pass to the mainland. Gen. 
 Heath had been too rapid for them. Col. Hand and his 
 Philadelphia riflemen, the same who had checked the British 
 advance on Long Island, had taken up the planks of the bridge, 
 and posted themselves opposite the end of the causeway, whence 
 they commenced firing with their rifles. They were soon rein- 
 forced by Col. Prescott, of Bunkers Hill renown, with his regi- 
 ment, and Lieut. Bryant of the artillery, with a three-pounder. 
 Checked at this pass, the British moved toward the head of the 
 creek; here they found the Americans in possession of the ford, 
 where they were reinforced by Col. Graham, of the New Yorkhne, 
 with his regiment, and Lieut. Jackson of the artillery, with a six- 
 pounder. These skilful dispositions of his troops by Gen. Heath had 
 brought the enemy to a stand. Washington ordered works to be 
 thrown up at the passes from the neck to the mainland. The 
 British also threw up a work at 'the end of the causeway. In the 
 afternoon nine ships, with a great number of schooners, sloops, and 
 fiat-bottomed boats full of men, passed through Hell Gate, toward 
 
1776.] MOVEMENTS OF, THE ARMIES. 263 
 
 Throg's Point ; and information received from two deserters, gave 
 Washington reason to believe that the greater part of the enemy's 
 forces were gathering in that quarter. Gen. McDougall's brigade, 
 in which were Col. Smallwood and the independent companies, 
 was sent in the evening to strengthen Heath's division at King's 
 Bridge, and to throw up works opposite the ford of Harlem river. 
 On the 14th, Gen. Lee arrived in camp, where he was welcomed 
 as the harbinger of good luck. Washington was absent, visiting the 
 posts beyond King's Bridge, and the passes leading from Throg's 
 Neck ; Lee immediately rode forth to join him. No one gave him 
 a sincerer greeting than the commander-in-chief; who, diffident of 
 his own military knowledge, had a high opinion of that of Lee. He 
 immediately gave him command of the troops above King's Bridge, 
 now the greatest part of the army, but desired that he would not 
 exercise it for a day or two, until he had time to acquaint himself 
 with the localities and arrangements of the post ; Heath, in the 
 interim, held the command. A strong garrison was placed in 
 Fort Washington, composed chiefly of troops from Magaw's and 
 Shee's Pennsylvania regiments, the latter under Lieut. Col. Lam- 
 bert Cadwalader, of Philadelphia. Col. Magaw was put in com- 
 Kiand of the post, and solemnly charged by Washington to defend 
 k to the last extremity. The name of the opposite post on the 
 Jersey shore, where Greene was stationed, was changed from Fort 
 Constitution to Fort Lee, in honor of the General. 
 
 Previous to decamping from Manhattan Island, Washington 
 formed four divisions of the army, which were respectively assigned 
 to Generals Lee, Heath, Sullivan (recently obtained in exchange 
 for General Prescott), and Lincoln. Lee was stationed o\\ Valen- 
 tine's Hill on the mainland, immediately opposite King's Bridge, to 
 cover the transportation across it of the military stores and heavy 
 baggage. The other divisions were to form a chain of fbrtified 
 posts, extending about thirteen miles along a ridge of hills on thg 
 west side of the Bronx, from Lee's camp up to the village o\ 
 White Plains. Washington was continually in the saddle, riding 
 about a broken, woody, and half wild country, forming posts, and 
 choosing sites for breastworks and redoubts. By his skilful dis* 
 position of the army, it was protected in its whole length by 
 the Bronx, a narrow, but deep stream, fringed with trees, which 
 ran along the foot of the ridge ; at the same time his troops faced 
 and outflanked the enemy, and covered the roads along which the 
 stores and baggage had to be transported. On the 21st, he shifted 
 his head-quarters to Valentine's Hill, and on the 23d to Wliite 
 Plains, where he stationed himself in a fortified camp. While he 
 was thus incessantly in action, General, now Sir William Howe, 
 remained for six days passive in his camp on Throg's Point, await- 
 ing the arrival of supplies and reinforcements, instead of pushing 
 across to the Hudson, and throwing himself between Washington's 
 army and the upper country. His inaction lost him a golden 
 opportunity. By the time his supplies arrived, the Americans had 
 broken up the causeway leading to the mainland, and taken posi- 
 tions too strong to be easily forced. Finding himself headed in 
 
264 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 this direction, Sir William reembarked part of his troops in flat 
 boats on the 1 8th, crossed Eastchester Bay, and landed on Pell's 
 Point, at the mouth of Hutchinson's River. Here he was joined 
 in a few hours by the main body, with the baggage and artillery, 
 and proceeded through the manor of Pelham toward New Rochelle; 
 still with a view to get above Washington's army. In their march, 
 the British were waylaid and harassed by Col. Glover of Massa- 
 chusetts, with his own, Reed's, and Shepard's regiments of 
 infantry. Twice the British advance guard were thrown into con- 
 fusion and driven back with severe loss, by a sharp fire from 
 behind stone fences. A third time they advanced in solid 
 columns. The Americans gave them repeated volleys, and 
 then retreated with the loss of eight killed and thirteen 
 wounded, among whom was Col. Shepard. Col. Glover, and the 
 officers and soldiers who were with him in this skirmish, received 
 the public thanks of Washington for their merit and good behav- 
 ior. On the 21 St, Gen. Howe was encamped about two miles 
 north of New Rochelle, with his outposts extending to Mamaroneck 
 on the Sound. At the latter place was posted Col. Rogers, the 
 renegade, as he was called, with the Queen's Rangers, his newly- 
 raised corps of loyalists. Hearing of this. Lord Stirling resolved, 
 if possible, to cut off this outpost and entrap the old hunter. Col. 
 Haslet, of his brigade, always prompt on such occasions, under- 
 took the exploit at the head of seven hundred and fifty of the 
 Delaware troops, who had fought so bravely on Long Island. 
 With these he crossed the line of the British march ; came undis- 
 covered upon the post ; drove in the guard ; killed a lieutenant 
 and several men, and brought aw^ay thirty-six prisoners, with a 
 pair of colors, sixty stands of arms, and other spoils. He missed 
 the main prize, however. Rogers skulked off in the dark at the 
 first fire. He w^as too old a partisan to be easily entrapped. These, 
 and other spirited and successful skirmishes, while they retarded 
 the advance of the enemy, had the far more important effect 
 of exercising and animating the American troops, and accustoming 
 them to danger. 
 
 W'hile in this neighborhood, Howe was reinforced by a second 
 division of Hessians under General Knyphausen, and a regiment 
 of Waldeckers, both of which had recently arrived in New York. 
 He was joined, also, by the whole of the seventeenth light dragoons, 
 and a part of the sixteenth, which had arrived on the 3d instant 
 from Ireland, with Lieut. Col. (afterward Earl) Harcourt. Some of 
 their horses had been brought with them across the sea. The 
 Americans at first regarded these troopers with great dread. 
 Washington, therefore, took pains to convince them, that in a 
 rough, broken country, like the present, full of stone fences, no 
 troops were so inefficient as cavalry. They could be waylaid and 
 picked off by sharp-shooters from behind walls and thickets, while 
 they could not leave the road to pursue their covert foe. Further 
 to inspirit them against this new enemy, he proclaimed, in general 
 orders, a reward of one hundred dollars for every trooper brought 
 in with his horse and accoutrements. On the 25th, about two 
 
1776.] THE BRITISH A T WHITE PLAINS, 265 
 
 o'clock in the afternoon, intelligence was brought to headquarters 
 t lat three or four detachments of the enemy were within four 
 miles of the camp and the main army following in columns. Wash- 
 ington drew all his troops from the posts along the Bronx into the 
 fortified camp at White Plains. Here everything remained quiet 
 but exf)ectant, throughout the 26th. In the morning of the 27th, 
 which was Sunday, the heavy booming of cannon was heard from 
 the direction of Fort Washington. Two of the British frigates, at 
 seven o'clock in the morning, had moved up the Hudson, and 
 come to anchor near Bourdett's Ferry, below the Morris House, 
 Washington's old headquarters, apparently with the intention of 
 stopping the ferry, and cutting off the communication between 
 Fort Lee and Fort Washington. At the same time, troops made 
 their appearance on Harlem Plains, where Lord Percy held com- 
 mand. Col. Morgan immediately manned the lines with troops 
 from the garrison of Fort Washington. The ships opened a fire 
 to enfilade and dislodge them. A barbette battery on the cliffs 
 of the Jersey shore, left of the ferry, fired down upon the frigate, but 
 with little effect. An eighteen- pounder near the Morris House 
 fired fifty or sixty rounds, two balls at a time. Two eighteen- 
 pounders were likewise brought down from Fort Lee, and planted 
 opposite the ships. By the fire from both shores they were hulled 
 repeatedly. It was the thundering of these cannonades which had 
 reached Washington's camp at White Plains, and even startled the 
 Highlands of the Hudson. The ships soon hoisted all sail. The 
 foremost slipped her cable, and appeared to be in the greatest 
 confusion. She could make no way, though towed by two boats. 
 The other ship, seeing her distress, sent two barges to her assist- 
 ance, and by the four boats she was dragged out of the reach of 
 the American fire, her pumps going all the time. At the time 
 that the fire from the ships began. Lord Percy brought up his field- 
 pieces and mortars, and made an attack upon the lines. He was 
 resolutely answered by the troops sent down from Fort Washing- 
 ington, and several Hessians Avere killed. An occasional firing 
 was kept up until evening, when the ships fell down the river, and 
 the troops which had advanced on Harlem Plains drew within 
 their lines again. The celebrated Thomas Paine, autdor of " The 
 Rights of Man," and other political works, was a spectator of the 
 affair from the rocky summit of the Palisades, on the Jersey shore. 
 
 While these things were passing at Fort Washington, Lee 
 had struck his tents, and with the rear division, eight thousand 
 strong, the baggage and artillery, and a train of wagons four 
 miles long, laden with stores and ammunition, was lumbering 
 along the rough country roads to join the main army. It was not 
 until Monday morning, after being on the road all night, that he 
 arrived at White Plains. 
 
 Washington's camp was situated on high ground, facing the 
 east. The right wing stretched toward the south along a rocky 
 hill, at the foot of which the Bronx, making an elbow, protected it 
 in flank and rear. The left wing rested on a small, deep lake 
 among the hills. The camp was strongly intrenched in front. 
 
266 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile to the right of the camp, and separated 
 from the height on which it stood by the Bronx and a marshy 
 interval, was a corresponding height called Chatterton's Hill, 
 As this partly commanded the right flank, and as the intervening 
 bend of the Bronx was easil/ passible, Washington had stationed 
 on its summit a militia regiment. Apprehensive that the enemy 
 might attempt to get possession of Chatterton's Hill, he detached 
 Col. Haslet with his Delaware regiment, to reinforce the militia 
 posted there. To these he soon added Gen. McDougall's 
 brigade, composed of Smallwood's IMarylanders, Ritzema's New 
 Yorkers, and two other regiments. These were much reduced by 
 sickness and absence. Gen. McDougall had command of the 
 whole force upon the hill, which did not exceed i,6oo men. 
 These dispositions were scarcely made, when the enemy appeared 
 glistening on the high grounds beyond the village of White Plains. 
 They advanced in two columns, the right commanded by Sir 
 Henry Clinton, the left by the Hessian general, De Heister. There 
 was also a troop of horse; so formidable in the inexperienced eyes 
 of the Americans. For a time they halted in a wheat field, behind 
 a rising ground, and the general officers rode up in the center to 
 hold a consultation. Washington supposed they were preparing 
 to attack him in front, and such indeed was their intention; but the 
 commanding height of Chatterton's Hill had caught Sir William's 
 eye, and he determined first to get possession of it. Col. Rahl 
 was accordingly detached with a brigade of Hessians, to make a 
 circuit southwardly round a piece of wood, cross the Bronx about 
 a quarter of a mile below, and ascend the south side of the hill; 
 while Gen. Leslie, with a large force, British and Hessians, should 
 advance directly in front, throw a bridge across the stream, and 
 charge up the hill. A furious cannonade was now opened by the 
 British under cover of which, the troops of Gen. Leslie hastened 
 to construct the bridge. In so doing, they were severely galled 
 by two field-pieces, planted on a ledge of rock on Chatterton's 
 Hill, and in charge of Alexander Hamilton, the youthful captain of 
 artillery. Smallwood's Maryland battalion, also, kept up a sharp 
 fire of small-arms. As soon as the bridge was finished, the British 
 and Hessians under Leshe rushed over it, formed, and charged up 
 the hill to take Hamilton's two field-pieces. Three times the field- 
 pieces were discharged, plowing the ascending columns from hill- 
 top to river, while Smallwood's "blue and buff" Marylanders kept 
 up their volleys of musketry. In the mean time, Rahl and his 
 Hessian brigade forded the Bronx lower down, pushed up the 
 south side of the hill, and endeavored to turn McDougall's right 
 flank. The militia gave the general but little support. They had 
 been dismayed at the opening of the engagement by a shot from a 
 British cannon, which wounded one of them in the thigh, and 
 nearly put the whole to flight. It was with the utmost difficulty 
 McDougall had rallied them, and posted them behind a stone wall. 
 Here they did some service, until a troop of British cavalry, having 
 gained the crest of the hill, came on, brandishing their sabers. At 
 uieir first charge the militia gave a random, scattering fire, tlien 
 
17/6.] THE ARMIES AT WHITE PLAINS. 267 
 
 broke, and fled in complete confusion. A brave stand was made 
 on the summit of the hill by Haslet, Ritzema, and Smalhvood, with 
 their troops. Twice they repulsed horse and foot, British and 
 Hessians, until, cramped for room and greatly outnumbered, they 
 slowly and sullenly retreated down the north side of the hill, where 
 there was a bridge across the Bronx. Smallwood remained upon 
 the ground for some time after the retreat had begun and received 
 two flesh wounds, one in the hip, the other through the arm. At 
 the bridge over the Bronx, the retreating troops were met by Gen. 
 Putnam, who was coming to their assistance with Beall's brigade. 
 In the rear of this they marched back into the camp. The loss on 
 both sides, in this short but severe action, w^as nearly equal. That 
 of the Americans was between three and four hundred men, killed, 
 wounded, and taken prisoners. 
 
 The British army now rested with their left wing on the hill they 
 had just taken, and which they were busy intrenching. They were 
 extending their right wing to the left of the American lines, so that 
 their two wings and center formed nearly a semicircle. It was 
 evidently their design to outflank the American camp, and get in 
 the rear of it. "The two armies," says Gen. Heath in his Memoirs, 
 "lay looking at each other, within long cannon shot. In the night 
 time the British lighted up a vast number of fires, the weather grow- 
 ing pretty cold. These fires, some on the level ground, some at 
 the foot of the hills, and at all distances to their brows, some of 
 v/hich were lofty, seemed to the eye to mix with the stars. The 
 American side doubtless exhibited to them a similar appearance. 
 During this anxious night, Washington was assiduously occupied 
 throwing back his right wing to stronger ground; doubhng his 
 intrenchments and constructing three redoubts, with a line in 
 front, on the summit of his post. These works were principally 
 intended for defence against small-arms, and were made of the 
 stalks of Indian corn or maize taken from a neighboring corn-field 
 and pulled up with the earth clinging in masses to the large roots. 
 "The roots of the stalks," says Heath, "and earth on them placed 
 in the face of the works, answered the purpose of sods and fas- 
 cines. The tops being placed inward, as the loose earth was 
 thrown upon them, became as so many trees to the work, which 
 was carried up with a dispatch scarcely conceivable." In the 
 morning of the 29th, when Howe beheld how greatly Washington 
 had improved his position and strengthened it, by what appeared 
 to be solidly constructed works, he postponed his meditated assault, 
 ordered up Lord Percy from Harlem with the fourth brigade and 
 two battalions of the sixth, and proceeded to throw up Imes and 
 redoubts in front of the American camp, as if preparing to can- 
 nonade it. As the enemy were endeavoring to outflank him, espe- 
 cially on his right wing, Washington apprehended one ot their 
 objects might be to advance a part of their force, and seize on 
 Pine's Bridge over Croton River, which would cut off" his commu- 
 nication with the upper country. Gen. Beall, with three Maryland 
 regiments, was sent off with all expedition to secure that pass. 
 Nothing could exceed the war-worn condition of the troops, unsea- 
 
26S LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 soned as they were to this kind of service. "The rebel army/* 
 wrote a British officer, "are in so wretched a condition, as to cloth- 
 ing and accouterments, that I believe no nation ever saw such a 
 set of tatterdemaHons. There are few coats among them but what 
 are out at elbows ; in a whole regiment there is scarce a pair of 
 breeches. Judge, then, how they must be pinched by a winter's 
 campaign. We, who are warmly clothed and well equipped, 
 aheady feel it severely ; for it is even now much colder than 1 ever 
 felt it in England." Alas for the poor-naked, weather-beaten 
 patriots, who had to cope with these well-armed, well-clad, well- 
 appointed mercenaries. 
 
 On the night of the 31st, Washington made another of those 
 moves which perplexed the worthy Clinton. In the course of the 
 night he shifted his whole position, set fire to the barns and out- 
 houses containing forage and stores, which there was no time to 
 remove, and, leaving a strong rearguard on the heights, and in the 
 neighboring" wood, retired with his main army a distance of five 
 miles, among the high, rocky hills about Northcastle. Here he 
 immediately set to work to intrench and fortify himself; his policy 
 at this time being, as he used to say, *' to fight with the spade and 
 mattock." Gen. Howe did not attempt to dislodge him from his 
 fastness. He at one time ordered an attack on the rearguard, but 
 a violent rain prevented it, and for two or three days he remained 
 seemingly inactive. During the night of the 4th, this quiet was 
 interrupted. A mysterious sound was heard in the direction of the 
 British camp, like the rumbling of wagons and artillery. The 
 enemy were decamping. Long trains were observed, defiling 
 across the hilly country, along the roads leading to Dobbs* Ferry 
 on the Hudson, The movement continued for three successive 
 days, until their whole force, British and Hessians, disappeared 
 from White Plains. 
 
 Affairs at Fort Washington soon settled the question of the 
 enemy's intentions with regard to it. Lord Percy took his station 
 with a body of troops before the lines to the south. Knyphausen 
 advanced on the north. The Americans had previously aband- 
 oned Fort Independence, burned its barracks, and removed the 
 stores and cannon. Crossing King's Bridge, Knyphausen took a 
 position between it and Fort Washington. The approach to the 
 fort, on this side, was exceedingly steep and rocky ; as, indeed, 
 were all its approaches excepting that on the south, where the coun- 
 try was more open, and the ascent gradual. The fort could not 
 hold within its walls above one thousand men; the rest of the 
 troops were distributed about the lines and outworks. While the 
 fort was thus menaced, the chevaux-de-frise had again proved inef- 
 ficient. On the night of the 5th, a frigate and two transports, 
 bound up to Dobbs' Ferry, with supplies for Howe's army, had 
 broken through; through, according to Greene's account, not with- 
 out being considerably shattered by the batteries. Accounts had 
 been received at headquarters of a considerable movement on the 
 preceding evening (Nov. 7th), among the enemy's boats at Dobbs' 
 Ferry. Washington, directed Greene tQ have all the stores not 
 
1 776. J WASHING TON A T PEEKSKILL. 269 
 
 necessary to the defence removed immediately, and to destroy all 
 the stock, the hay and grain, in the neighborhood, which the own- 
 ers refused to remove. " Experience has shown," adds he " that 
 a contrary conduct is not of the least advantage to the poor inhab- 
 itants, from whom all their effects of every kind are taken without 
 distinction and without the least satisfaction." 
 
 On the loth of November, Washington left the camp at 
 Northcastle, at i£ o'clock, and arrived at Peekskill at sunset: 
 whither General Heath, with his division, had preceded him by a 
 few hours. Lord Stirling was there, hkewise, having effected the 
 transportation of the Maryland and Virginia troops across the 
 river, and landed them at the ferry south of Stony Point • though 
 a better landing was subsequently found north of the point He 
 was now at the entrance of the Highlands, that grand defile of the 
 Hudson, the object of so much precaution and solicitude. On the 
 following morning, accompanied by Generals Heath, Stirling. 
 James and George Clinton, Mifflin, and others, he made a military 
 visit m boats to the Highland posts. Fort Montgomery was in a 
 considerable state of forwardness, and a work in the vicinity was 
 projected to cooperate with it. Fort Constitution commanded a 
 sudden bend of the river, but Lord Stirling, in his report of inspec- 
 tion, had intimated that the fort itself was commanded by West 
 Point opposite. A glance of the eye, without going on shore, was 
 sufficient to convince Washington of the fact. A fortress subse- 
 quently erected on that point, has been considered the Key of the 
 Highlands. On the morning of the 12th, at an early hour, Wash- 
 ington rode out with Gen. Heath to reconnoiter the east side of the 
 Hudson, at the gorge of the Highlands. Near Robinson's Bridge, 
 in this vicinity, about two miles from Peekskill, he chose a place 
 where troops should be stationed to cover the south entrance into 
 the mountains ; and here, afterward, was established an important 
 militajy depot called Continental Village. 
 
 During his brief and busy sojourn at Peekskill, Washington 
 received important intelligence from the Northern army ; especially 
 that part of it on Lake Champlain. under the command of Gen. 
 Gates. The preparations for the defence of Ticonderoga, and the 
 nautical service on the lake, had met with difficulties at every step. 
 At length by the middle of August, a small flotilla was completed, 
 composed of a sloop and schooner each of twelve guns (six and 
 tour pounders) two schooners mounting eight guns each, and five 
 gondolas, each of three guns. The flotilla was subsequently 
 augmented and the command given by Gates to Arnold, in com- 
 pliance with the advice of Washington ; who had a high opinion of 
 tliat officer s energy, intrepidity, and fertility in expedients. Sir 
 Guy Carleton, in the mean lime, was straining every nerve for the 
 approaching conflict. Vessels were brought from England in 
 pieces and put together at St. Johns, boats of various kinds and 
 sizes were transported over land, or dragged up the rapids of the 
 borel. The soldiers shared with the seamen in the toil. The 
 Canadian farmers, also, were taken from their agricultural pursuits, 
 and compelled to aid in these, to them, unprofitable labors Sir 
 
Vjo LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Guy was full of hope and ardor. Should he get the command of 
 Lakes Champlain and George, the northern part of New York 
 would be at his mercy ; before winter set in he might gain posses- 
 sion of Albany. He would then be able to cooperate with Gen. 
 Howe in severing and subduing the northern and southern 
 provinces, and bringing the war to a speedy and triumphant close. 
 In despite of every exertion, three months elapsed before his 
 armament was completed. Winter was fast approaching. Before 
 it arrived, the success of his briUiant plan required that he should 
 fight his way across Lake Champlain ; carry the strong posts of 
 Crown Point and Ticonderoga ; traverse Lake George, and pursue 
 a long and dangerous march through a wild and rugged country, 
 beset with forests and morasses, to Albany. That was the first 
 post to the southward where he expected to find rest and winter 
 quarters for his troops. By the month of October, between twenty 
 and thirty sail were afloat, and ready for action. The gunboats 
 mounted brass field-pieces and howitzers. Seven hundred seamen 
 navigated the fleet ; two hundred of them were volunteers from the 
 transports. The guns were worked by detachments from the corps 
 of artillery. Capt. Pringle conducted the armament, but Sir Guy 
 Carleton was too full of zeal, and too anxious for the event, not to 
 head the enterprise ; he accordingly took his station on the deck of 
 the flag-ship Inflexible. They made sail early in October, in quest 
 of the American squadron, which was said to be abroad upon the 
 lake. Arnold, however, being ignorant of the strength of the 
 enemy, and unwilling to encounter a superior force in the open 
 lake, had taken his post under cover of Valcour Island, in the 
 upper part of a deep channel, or strait between that island and the 
 mainland. His force consisted of three schooners, two sloops, 
 three galleys and eight gondolas ; carrying in all seventy guns, 
 many of them eighteen-pounders. The British ships, sweeping 
 past Cumberland Head with a fair wind and flowing sail on the 
 morning of the nth, had left the southern end of Valcour Island 
 astern, when they discovered Arnold's flotilla anchored behind it, 
 in a line extending across the strait so as not to be outflanked. 
 They immediately hauled close to the wind, and tried to beat up 
 into the channel. The wind, however, did not permit the largest 
 of them to enter. Arnold took advantage of the circumstance. 
 He was on board of the galley Congress, and, leaving the hne, 
 advanced with two other galleys and the schooner Royal Savage, 
 to attack the smaller vessels as they entered before the large ones 
 could come up. About twelve o'clock the enemy's schooner 
 Carleton opened a brisk fire upon the Royal Savage and the 
 galleys. The Royal Savage ran aground. Her crew set her on 
 fire and abandoned her. In about an hour the British brought all 
 their gunboats in a range across the lower part of the channel, 
 within musket shot of the Americans. They landed a large force 
 of Indians on the island, to keep up a galling fire from the shore 
 upon the Americans with their rifles. The action now became 
 general, and was severe and sanguinary. The Americans, finding 
 themsch es thus hemmed in by a superior force, fought with des- 
 
1 7 76. J BE A I ^ER V OF ARNOLD. 27 1 
 
 peration. Arnold pressed with his galley into the hottest of the 
 fight. The Congress was hulled several times, received seven 
 shots between wind and water, was shattered in mast and rigging, 
 and many of the crew were killed or wounded. The ardor of 
 Arnold increased with his danger. He cheered on his men by 
 voice and example, often pointing the guns with his own hands. 
 He was ably seconded by Brig. -Gen. Waterbury, in the Washing- 
 ton galley, which, like his own vessel, was terribly cut up. The 
 contest lasted throughout the day. Carried on as it was within a 
 narrov.'^ compass, and on a tranquil lake, almost every shot took 
 effect. The fire of the Indians from the shore was less deadly than 
 had been expected ; but their whoops and yells, mingling with the 
 rattling of the musketry, and the thundering of the cannon, in- 
 creased the horrors of the scene. Volumes of smoke rose above 
 the woody shores, which echoed with the usual din of war, and for 
 a time this lovely recess of a beautiful and peaceful lake was 
 rendered a perfect pandemonium. Arnold, sensible that with his 
 inferior and crippled force all resistance would be unavailing, took 
 advantage of a dark cloudy night, and a strong north wind; his 
 vessels slipped silently through the enemy's line without being dis- 
 covered, one following a light on the stern of the other ; and by 
 daylight they were out of sight They had to anchor, however, at 
 Schuyler's Island, about ten miles up the lake, to stop leaks and 
 make repairs. Two of the gondolas were here sunk, being past 
 remedy. Arnold's galley, the Congress, the Washington galley, 
 and four gondolas, all which had suffered severely in the late fight, 
 fell astern of the rest of the squadron in the course of the night. 
 In the morning, when the sun lifted a fog which had covered the 
 lake, they beheld the enemy within a few miles of them in full 
 chase, while their own comrades were nearly out of sight, making 
 the best of their way for Crown Point. Arnold, with the crippled 
 relics of his squadron, managed by noon to get within a few 
 leagues of Crown Point, when they were overtaken by the Inflexi- 
 ble, the Carleton, and the schooner Maria of 14 guns. As soon 
 as they came up, they poured in a tremendous fire. The Wash- 
 ington galley, already shattered, and having lost most of her offic- 
 ers, was compelled to strike, and Gen. Waterbury and the crew 
 were taken prisoners, Arnold had now to bear the brunt of the 
 action. For a long time he was engaged within musket shot with 
 the Inflexible, and the two schooners, until his galley was reduced 
 to a wreck and one third of the crew were killed. The gondolas 
 were nearly in the same desperate condition ; yet the men stood 
 stoutly to their guns. Seeing resistance vain, Arnold determined 
 that neither vessels nor crews should fall into the hands of the 
 enemy. He ordered the gondolas to run on shore, in a small creek 
 in the neighborhood, the men to set fire to them as soon as they 
 grounded, to wade on shore with their muskets, and keep off the 
 enemy until they were consumed. He did the same with his own 
 galley ; remaining on board of her until she was in flames, lest the 
 enemy should get possession and strike his flag, which was kept 
 flying to the last. He now set off with his g^allant crew, many of 
 
272 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 whom were wounded, by a road through the woods to Crown 
 Point, where he arrived at night, narrowly escaping an Indian 
 ambush. Two schooners, two galleys, one sloop and one gondola, 
 the remnant which had escaped of this squadron, were at anchor 
 at the Point, and Gen. Waterbury and most of his men arrived 
 there the next day on parole. Seeing that the place must soon fall 
 into the hands of the enemy, they set fire to the house, destroyed 
 everything they could not carry away, and embarking in the ves- 
 sels made sail for Ticonderoga. The loss of the Americans in these 
 two actions is said to have been between eighty and ninety men ; 
 that of the British about forty. Sir Guy Carleton took possession 
 of the ruined works at Crown Point, where he was soon joined by 
 the army. He made several movements by land and water, as if 
 meditating an attack upon Ticonderoga. Gen. Gates strengthened 
 his works with incessant assiduity, and made every preparation for 
 an obstinate defence. A strong easterly wind prevented the 
 enemy's ships from advancing to attack the lines, and gave lime 
 for the arrival of reinforcements of militia to the garrison. Carle- 
 ton returned to St. Johns, and cantoned his troops in Canada for 
 the winter. It was not until about the 1st of November, that a 
 reconnoitering party, sent out from Ticonderoga by Gen. Gates, 
 brought him back intelligence that Crown Point was abandoned by 
 the enemy, and not a hostile sail in sight. All apprehensions of 
 an attack upon Ticonderoga during the present year were at an 
 end, and many of the troops stationed there were already on their 
 march toward Albany. 
 
 On the morning of the 1 2th of November, Washington crossed 
 the Hudson, to the ferry below Stony Point, with the residue 
 of the troops destined for the Jerseys. Far below were to be 
 descried the Phoenix, the Roebuck, and the Tartar, at anchor 
 in the broad waters of Haverstraw Bay and the Tappan Sea, 
 guarding the lower ferries. The army, thus shut out from the 
 nearer passes, was slowly winding its way by a circuitous route 
 through the gap in the mountains, which Lord Stirling had 
 secured. Leaving the troops which had just landed, to pursue 
 the same route to the Hackensack, Washington, accompanied 
 by Col, Reed, struck a direct course for Fort Lee, being anxious 
 about affairs at Fort Washington. He resolved to continue a 
 few days in this neighborhood, during which he trusted the de- 
 signs of the enemy would be more apparent. The capture of 
 Fort Washington was at present, Howe's main object ; and he 
 was encamped on Fordham Heights, not far from King's Bridge, 
 until preliminary steps should be taken. In the night of the 14th, 
 thirty flat-bottomed boats stole quietly up the Hudson, passed 
 the American forts undiscovered, and made their way through 
 Spuyten Duyvil Creek into Harlem River. On the 15th, Howe 
 sent in a summons to surrender, with a threat of extremities should 
 he have to carry the place by assault. Magaw, in his reply, inti- 
 mated a doubt that Gen. Howe would execute a threat "so unworthy 
 of himself and the British nation ; but give me leave," added he, 
 "to assure his Excellency, that, actuated by the most glorious 
 
I776.J ATTACK OF FORT WASHINGTON. 273 
 
 cause that mankind ever fought in, I am determined to defend this 
 post to the very last extremity." Apprised by the Colonel of his peril, 
 Gen. Greene sent over reinforcements, with an exhortation to him 
 to persist in his defence ; and dispatched an express to Washington, 
 who was at Hackensack, where the troops which had crossed from 
 Peekskill were encamped. It was nightfall when Washington ar- 
 rived at Fort Lee. Greene and Putnam were over at the besieged 
 fortress. He threw himself into a boat, and had partly crossed the 
 river, when he met those generals returning. They informed him 
 of the garrison's having been reinforced, and assured him that it 
 was in high spirits, and capable of making a good defence. It was 
 with difficulty, however, they could prevail on him to return with 
 them to the Jersey shore, for he was excessively excited. Early 
 the next morning (l6th), Magaw made his disposition for the ex- 
 pected attack. His forces, with the recent addition amounted to 
 nearly three thousand men. Howe had planned four simultaneous 
 attacks ; one on the north by Knyphausen, who was encamped on 
 the York side of King's Bridge, within cannon shot of Fort Wash- 
 ington, but separated from it by high and rough hills, covered 
 with almost impenetrable woods. He was to advance in two 
 columns, formed by detachments made from the Hessians of his 
 corps, the brigade of Rahl, and the regiment of W^aldeckers. 
 The second attack was to be by two battaUons of light infantry 
 and two battalions of guards, under Brigadier-Gen. Mathew, who 
 was to cross Harlem River in flat-boats, under cover of the 
 redoubts above mentioned, and to land on the right of the 
 fort. This attack was to be supported by the first and second 
 grenadiers, and a regiment of light infantry under command of 
 Cornwallis. The third attack, intended as a feint to distract the 
 attention of the Americans, was to be by Col. Sterling, with 
 the forty-second regiment, who was to drop down the Harlem 
 River in bateaux, to the left of the American lines, facing New 
 York. The fourth attack was to be on the south, by Lord Percy, 
 with the English and Hessian troops under his command, on the 
 right flank of the American intrenchments. About noon, a 
 heavy cannonade thundering along the rocky hills, and sharp 
 volleys of musketry, proclaimed that the action was commenced. 
 Knyphausen' s division was pushing on from the north in two 
 columns, as had been arranged. The right was led by Col. 
 Rahl, the left by himself. Rahl essayed to mount a steep, 
 broken height called Cock Hill, which rises from Spuyten Duyvil 
 Creek, and was covered with woods. Knyphausen undertook a 
 hill rising from the King's Bridge road, but soon found himself 
 entangled in a woody defile, difficult to penetrate, and where his 
 Hessians were exposed to the fire of the three-gun battery, and 
 RawHngs' riflemen. While this was going on at the north of the 
 fort, Gen. Mathew, with his light infantry and guards, crossed the 
 Harlem River in the flat-boats, under cover of a heavy fire from 
 the redoubts. He made good his landing, after being severely 
 handled by Baxter and his men, from behind rocks and trees, and 
 the breastworks thrown up on the steep river bank. Baxter, while 
 
2/4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 bravely encouraging his men, was killed by a British officer. His 
 troops, overpowered by numbers, retreated to the fort. Gen. 
 Mathew now pushed on with his guards and light infantry to cut 
 off Cadwalader. That officer had gallantly defended the lines 
 against the attack of Lord Percy, until informed that Col. Sterling 
 was dropping down Harlem River in bateaux to flank the lines, 
 and take him in the rear. He sent off a detachment to oppose his 
 landing. They did it manfully. About ninety of Sterling's men 
 were killed or wounded in their boats, but he persevered, land- 
 ed, and forced his way up a steep height, which was well 
 defended, gained the summit, forced a redoubt, and took nearly 
 two hundred prisoners. Thus doubly assailed, Cadwalader was 
 obliged to retreat to the fort. He was closely pursued by Percy 
 with his EngUsh troops and Hessians, but turned repeatedly on 
 his pursuers. Thus he fought his way to the fort, with the loss 
 of several killed and more taken prisoners; but marking his 
 track by the number of Hessians slain. The defence on the 
 north side of the fort was equally obstinate and unsuccessful. 
 Rawlings, with his Maryland riflemen and the aid of the three- 
 gun battery, had for some time kept the left column of Hessians 
 and Waldeckers under Knyphausen at bay. At length Col. Rahl, 
 with the right column of the division, having forced his Vv'ay directly 
 up the north side of the steep hill at Spuyten Duyvil Creek, 
 came upon Rawlings' men, whose rifles from frequent discharges, 
 had become foul and almost useless, drove them from their strong 
 post, and followed them until within a hundred yards of the fort, 
 where he was joined by Knyphausen, who had slowly made h'i3 
 way through dense forest and over felled trees. Here they took 
 post behind a large stone house, and sent in a flag, with a second 
 summons to surrender. Washington, surrounded by several of his 
 officers, had been an anxious spectator of the battle from the 
 opposite side of the Hudson. Much of it was hidden from him by 
 intervening hills and forest ; but the roar of cannonry from the 
 valley of Harlem River, the sharp and incessant reports of rifles 
 and the smoke rising above the tree tops, told him of the spirit 
 with which the assault was received at various points, and gs^ve 
 him for a time a hope that the defence might be successful. 
 The action about the lines to the south lay open to him, and 
 could be distinctly seen through a telescope ; and nothing en- 
 couraged him more than the gallant style in which Cadwalader 
 with an inferior force maintained his position. When he saw 
 him, however, assailed in flank, the line broken, and his troops, 
 overpowered by numbers, retreating to the fort, he gave up the 
 game as lost. The worst sight of all, was to behold his men 
 cut down and bayoneted by the Hessians while begging quarter. 
 It is said so completely to have overcome him, that he Avept 
 "with the tenderness of a child." It was no longer possible for 
 Magaw to get his troops to man the lines ; he was compelled, 
 therefore, to yield himself and his garrison prisoners of war 
 The only terms granted them were, that the men .should retain 
 their baggage and the officers their swords. 
 
1 776.] WASHING TON AT HA CKENSA CK. 275 
 
 The sight of the American flag hauled down, and the Biitibh flag 
 waving in its place told Washington of the surrender. His instant 
 care was for the safety of the upper country, now that the lower 
 defences of the Hudson were at an end. 
 
 CHAPTER XIH. 
 
 WASHINGTON IN THE JERSEYS. 
 
 With the capture of Fort Washington, the project of 
 obstructing the navigation of the Hudson, at that point, was at an 
 end. Fort Lee, consequently, became useless, and Washington 
 ordered all the ammunition and stores to be removed, preparatory 
 to its abandonment. This was effected with the whole of the 
 ammunition, and a part of the stores, and every exertion was 
 making to hurry off the remainder, when, early in the morning of 
 the 20th, intelligence was brought that the enemy had crossed the 
 Hudson in two divisons, one diagonally upward from King's 
 Bridge, landing on the west side, about eight o'clock ; the other 
 marched up the east bank, three or four miles, and then crossed to 
 the opposite shore. The whole corps, six thousand strong, and 
 under the command of Lord Cornwallis, were landed, with their 
 cannon, by ten o'clock, at a place called Closter Dock, five or six 
 miles above Fort Lee, and under that line of lofty and perpen- 
 dicular cliffs known as the Palisades. Washington arrived at the 
 fort in three-quarters of an hour. Being told that the enemy were 
 extending themselves across the country, he at once saw that they 
 intended to form a line from the Hudson to the Hackensack, and 
 hem the whole garrison in between the two rivers. Nothing 
 would save it but a prompt retreat to secure the bridge over the 
 Hackensack. The retreat commenced in all haste. There was a 
 want of horses and wagons ; a great quantity of baggage, stores 
 and provisions, therefore, was abandoned. So was all the artillery 
 excepting two twelve-pounders. Even the tents were left standing, 
 and camp-kettles on the fire. With all their speed they did not 
 reach the Hackensack River before the vanguard of the enemy 
 was close upon them. Expecting a brush, the greater part hurried 
 over the bridge, others crossed at the ferry, and some higher up. 
 
 Washington wrote to Lee, Nov. 21st: "I am of opinion, and the 
 gentlemen about me concur in it, that the public interest requires 
 your coming over to this side of the Hudson with the Continental 
 troops. Inhabitants of this country will expect the Continental 
 army to give them what support they can ; and faihngin that, they 
 will cease to depend upon, or support a force from which no pro- 
 tection is to be derived. It is, therefore, of the utmost importance, 
 that at least an appearance of force should'iDe made, to keep this 
 province in connection with the others." 
 
 At Hackensack the army did not exceed three thousand men, 
 and they were dispirited by ill success, and the loss of tents and 
 
276 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 baggage. They were without intrenching tools, in a flat country, 
 where there were no natural fastnesses. Washington resolved, 
 therefore, to avoid any attack from the enemy, though, by so do- 
 ing, he must leave a fine and fertile region open to their ravages ; 
 or a plentiful storehouse, from which they would draw voluntary 
 supplies. A second move was necessary, again to avoid the danger 
 of being inclosed between two rivers. Leaving three regiments, 
 therefore, to guard the passes of the Hackensack, and serve as 
 covering parties, he again decamped, and threw himself on the 
 West bank of the Passaic, in the neighborhood of Newark. His 
 army, small as it was, would soon be less. The term of enlistment 
 of those under General Mercer, from the flying-camp, was nearly 
 expired ; and it was not probable that, disheartened as they were 
 by defeats and losses, exposed to inclement weather, and unaccus- 
 tomed to military hardships, they would longer forego the comforts 
 of their homes, to drag out the residue of a ruinous campaign. In 
 addition, too, to the superiority of the force that was following him, 
 the rivers gave the enemy facilities, by means of their shipping, to 
 throw troops in his rear. The situation of the little army was daily 
 becoming more perilous. Breaking up his camp once more, 
 Washington continued his retreat toward New Brunswick ; but so 
 close was CornwaUis upon him, that his advance entered one end 
 of Newark, just as the American rear-guard had left the other. 
 He wrote on the 29th to William Livingston, governor of the Jer- 
 seys, requesting him to have all boats and river craft, for seventy 
 miles along the Delaware, removed to the western bank out of the 
 reach of the enemy, and put under guard. All the force he could 
 muster at Brunswick, including the New Jersey militia, did not ex- 
 ceed four thousand men. At this moment of care and perplexity, 
 a letter, forwarded by express, anived at headquarters. It was 
 from Gen. Lee, dated from his camp at Northcastle, to Col. Reed, 
 and was in reply to the letter written by that officer from Hacken- 
 sack on the 2 1 St, which we have already laid before the reader. 
 Supposing that it related to official business, Washington opened 
 it, and read as follows : " My dear Reed : — I received your most 
 obliging, flattering letter; lament with you that fatal indecision of 
 mind, which in war is a much greater disqualification that stupidity, 
 or even want of personal courage. Accident may put a decisive 
 blunderer in the right ; but eternal defeat and miscarriage must at- 
 tend the man of the best parts, if cursed with indecision. The 
 General recommends in so pressing a manner as almost to amount 
 to an order, to bring over the continental troops under my com- 
 mand, which recommendation, or order, throws me into the greatest 
 dilemma. My reason for not having marched already is, that we 
 have just received intelligence that Roger's corps, the light-horse, 
 part of the Highlanders, and another brigade, he in so exposed a 
 situation as to give the fairest opportunity of being carried. I 
 should have attempted it last night, but the rain was too violent, 
 and when our pieces are wet, you know our troops are hors du 
 combat. I really think our chief will be better with me than with- 
 out me." A glance over this letter sufficed to show Washington 
 
I776.J WASHINGTON A T BRUNSIVICK. 277 
 
 that, at this dark moment, vhen he most needed support and sym- 
 pathy, his character and military conduct were the subject of dis- 
 paraging comments, between the friend in whom he had so im- 
 plicitly confided, and a sarcastic and apparently self-constituted 
 rival. Whatever may have been his feelings of wounded pride and 
 outraged friendship, he restrained them, and inclosed the letter to 
 Reed, with the following chilHng note : "Dear Sir: — The in- 
 closed was put into my- hands by an express from White Plains. 
 Having no idea of its being a private letter, much less suspecting 
 the tendency of the correspondence, I opened it, as I have done 
 all other letters to you from the same place, and Peekskill, upon 
 the business of your office, as I conceived, and found them to be." 
 The very calmness and coldness of this note must have had a 
 greater effect upon Reed, than could have been produced by the 
 most vehement reproaches. In subsequent communications, he 
 endeavored to explain away the offensive paragraphs in Lee's letter, 
 declaring there was nothing in his own inconsistent with the respect 
 and affection he had ever borne for Washington's person and 
 character. Fortunately for Reed, Washington never saw that 
 letter. There were passages in it beyond the reach of softening 
 explanation. As it was, the purport of it, as reflected in Lee's 
 reply, had given him a sufficient shock. His magnanimous nature, 
 however, was incapable of harboring long resentments ; especially 
 in matters relating solely to himself. His personal respect for Col. 
 Reed continued ; he invariably manifested a high sense of his 
 merits, and consulted him, as before, on military affairs ; but his 
 hitherto affectionate confidence in him, as a sympathizing friend, 
 had received an incurable wound. His letters, before so frequent, 
 and such perfect outpourings of heart and mind, became few and 
 far between, and confined to matters of business. — Washington 
 lingered at Brunswick until the 1st of December, in the vain hope 
 of being reinforced. The enemy, in the mean time, advanced 
 through the country, impressing wagons and horses, and collecting 
 cattle and sheep, as if for a distant march. At length their van- 
 guard appeared on the opposite side of the Raritan. Washington 
 immediately broke down the end of the bridge next the village, and 
 after nightfall resumed his retreat. In the mean time, as the river 
 was fordable, Capt. Alexander Hamilton planted his field-pieces on 
 high, commanding ground, and opened a spirited fire to check any 
 attempt of the enemy to cross. At Princeton, Washington left 
 twelve hundred men in two brigades, under Lord Stirling and Gen. 
 Adam Stephen, to cover the country, and watch the motions of 
 the enemy. Stephen was the same officer that had served as a col- 
 onel under Washington in the French war, as second in command 
 of the Virginia troops, and had charge of Fort Cumberland. In 
 consideration of his courage and military capacity, he had, in 1764, 
 been intrusted with the protection of the frontier. He had recently 
 brought a detachment of Virginia troops to the army, and received 
 from Congress, in September, the commission of brigadier-general. 
 The harassed army reached Trenton on the 2d of December. 
 Washington immediately proceeded to remove iiis baggage and 
 
278 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 stores across the Delaware. In his letters from this place to the 
 President of Congress, he gives his reasons for his continued retreat. 
 " Nothing but necessity obliged me to retire before the enemy, and 
 leave so much of the Jerseys unprotected. If the militia of this 
 State had stepped forth in season we might have prevented the 
 enemy's crossing the Hackensack. We might, with equal possibil- 
 ity of success, have made a stand at Brunswick on the Raritan. 
 But as both these rivers were fordable in a variety of places, being 
 knee deep only, it required many men to guard the passes, and 
 these we had not." In excuse for the people of New Jersey, it 
 may be observed, that they inhabited an open, agricultural country, 
 where the sound of war had never been heard. IVIany of them 
 looked upon the Revolution as rebellion ; others thought it a ruined 
 enterprise ; the armies engaged in it had been defeated and 
 broken up. They beheld the commander-in-chief retreating 
 through their country with a handful of men, weary, wayworn, 
 dispirited ; without tents, without clothing, many of them bare- 
 footed, exposed to wintry weather, and driven from post to post, 
 by a well-clad, well-fed, triumphant force, tricked out in all the 
 glittering bravery of war. Could it be wondered at, that peaceful 
 husbandmen, seeing their quiet fields thus suddenly overrun by ad- 
 verse hosts, and their very hearthstones threatened with outrage, 
 should, instead of flying to arms, seek for the safety of their wives 
 and little ones, and the protection of their humble means, from the 
 desolation which too often marks the course e\'en of friendly 
 armies? Lord Howe and his brother sought to profit by this dis- 
 may and despondency. A proclamation, dated 30th of November, 
 commanded all persons in arms against his majesty's government, 
 to disband and return home, and all Congresses to desist from trea- 
 sonable acts : offering a free pardon to all who should comply 
 within fifty days. Many who had been prominent in the cause 
 hastened to take advantage of this proclamation. Those who had 
 most property to lose were the first to submit. The middle ranks 
 remained generally steadfast in this time of trial. 
 
 In this dark day of peril to the cause, and to himself, Washing- 
 ton remained firm and undaunted. In casting about for some 
 stronghold where he might make a desperate stand for the 
 hberties of his country, his thoughts reverted to the mountain 
 regions of his early campaigns. Gen. Mercer was at hand, who 
 had shared his perils among these mountains, and his presence 
 may have contributed to bring them to his mind. " What think 
 you." said Washington ; " if we should retreat to the back parts of 
 Pennsylvania, would the Pennsylvanians support us?" "If the 
 lower counties give up, the back counties will do the same," was 
 the discouraging reply. " We must then retire to Augusta County 
 in Virginia," said Washington. " Numbers will repair to us for 
 safety, and we will try a predatory v/ar. If overpowered, we must 
 cross the Alleghanies." Such was the indomitable spirit, rising un- 
 der difficulties, and buoyant in the darkest moment, that kept our 
 tempest-tossed cause from foundering. Notwithstanding the repeated 
 and pressing orders and entreaties of the commander-in-chief, 
 
1776.] CORNWALLIS FOILED, 279 
 
 Lee did not reach Peekskill until the 30th of November. In a letter 
 of that date to Washington, who had complained of his delay, 
 he simply alleged difficulties, which he would explain when both 
 had leisure. His scheme to entrap Rogers, the renegade, had 
 failed; the old Indian hunter had been too much on the alert; he 
 boasted, however, to have rendered more service by his delay, 
 than he would have done had he moved sooner. His forces were 
 thereby augmented, so that he exjjected to enter the Jerseys with 
 four thousand finri and willing men, who would make a very im- 
 portant diversion. It was not until the 4th of December, that he 
 crossed the Hudson and began a laggard march, though aware of 
 the imminent peril of Washington and his army — how different 
 from the celerity of his movements in his expedition to the South ! 
 In the mean time, Washington, who was at Trenton, had profited 
 by a delay of the enemy at Brunswick, and removed most of the 
 stores and baggage of the army across the Delaware ; and, being 
 reinforced by fifteen hundred of the Pennsylvania militia, procured 
 by Mifflin, prepared to face about, and march back to Princeton 
 with such of his troops as were fit for service, there to be governed 
 by circumstances, and the movements of Gen. Lee. Accordingly, 
 on the 5th of December he sent about twelve hundred men in the 
 advance, to reinforce Lord Stirling, and the next day set off himself 
 with the residue. Cornwallis, being strongly reinforced, made a 
 forced march from Brunswick, and was within two miles of Prince- 
 ton. Stirling, to avoid being surrounded, immediately set out with two 
 brigades for Irenton. Washington hastened back to that place, and 
 caused boats to be collected from all quarters, and the stores and 
 troops transported across the Delaware. He himself crossed with 
 the rear-guard on Sunday morning, and took up his quarters about 
 a mile from the river; causing the boats to be destroyed, and troops 
 to be posted opp>osite the fords. He was conscious, however, as 
 he said, that with his small force he could make no great opposi- 
 tion, should the enemy bring boats with them. Fortunately they 
 did not come thus provided. Not one was to be had there or else- 
 where ; for W^ashington had caused the boats, for an extent of 
 seventy miles up and down the river, to be secured on the right 
 bank. His lordship was effectually brought to a stand. He made 
 some moves with two columns, as if he would cross the Delaware 
 above and below, either to push on to Philadelphia, or to entrap 
 Washington in the acute angle made by the bend of the river oppo- 
 site Bordentown. An able disposition of American troops along the 
 upper part of the river, and of a number of galleys below, dis- 
 couraged any attempt of the kind. Cornwallis, therefore, gave up 
 the pursuit, distributed the German troops in cantonments along 
 the left bank of the river, and stationed his main force at Bruns- 
 wick. Putnam was now detached to take command of Philadel- 
 phia, and put it in a state of defence, and General Mifflin to have 
 charge of the munitions of war deposited there. By their advice 
 Congress hastily adjourned on the 12th of December, to meet again 
 on the 20th, at Baltimore. Washington's whole force at this time 
 was about five thousand five hundred men ; one thousand of them 
 
28o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Jersey militia, fifteen hundred militia from Philadelphia, and a bat- 
 talion of five hundred of the German yeomanry of Pennsylvania. 
 Gates, however, he was informed, was coming on with seven regi- 
 ments detached by Schuyler from the Northern department ; rein- 
 forced by these, and the troops under Lee, he hoped to be able to 
 attempt a stroke upon the enemy's forces, which lay a good deal 
 scattered, and to all appearances, in a state of security. ' ' A lucky 
 blow in this quarter," writes he, "would be fatal to them, and 
 would most certainly raise the spirits of the people, which are quite 
 sunk by our late misfortunes." While cheering himself with these 
 hopes, and trusting to speedy aid from Lee, that wayward com- 
 mander, though nearly three weeks had elapsed since he had 
 received Washington's orders and entreaties to join him with all 
 possible dispatch, was no farther on his march than Morristown, 
 in the Jerseys; where, with militia recruits, his force was about 
 four thousand men. He now talked of crossing the great Bruns- 
 wick post-road, and, by a forced night's march, making his way 
 to the ferry above Burlington, where boats should be sent up from 
 Philadelphia to receive him. " I am much surprised," writes 
 Washington " that you should be in any doubt respecting the route 
 you should take, after the information you have received upon that 
 head. A large number of boats was procured, and is still retained 
 at Tinicum, under a strong guard, to facilitate your passage across 
 the Delaware. I have so frequently mentioned our situation, and 
 the necessity of your aid, that it is painful for me to add a word on 
 the subject. Congress have directed Philadelphia to be defended 
 to the last extremity. The fatal consequences that must attend its 
 loss are but too obvious to every one ; your arrival may be the 
 means of saving it." Gen. Gates had been detached by Schuyler 
 with seven regiments to reinforce Washington. Three of these 
 regiments had descended the Hudson to Peekskill, and were 
 ordered by Lee to Morristown. Gates had embarked with the 
 remaining four, and landed with them at Esopus, whence he took 
 a back route by the Delaware and the Minisink. On the lith of 
 December, he was detained by a heavy snow storm, in a sequestered 
 valley near the Wallpeck in New Jersey. Being cut off from all 
 information respecting the adverse armies, he detached Major 
 Wilkinson to seek Washington's camp, with a letter, stating the 
 force under his command, and inquiring what route he should take. 
 Wilkinson crossed the hills on horseback to Sussex court-house, 
 took a guide, and proceeded down the country. Washington had 
 passed the Delaware several days before ; the boats, he was told, 
 had been removed from the ferries, so that he would find some 
 difficulty in getting over, but Major-Gen. Lee was at Morristown. 
 Finding such obstacles in his way to the commander-in-chief, he 
 determined to seek the second in command, and ask orders from 
 him for General Gates. Lee had decamped from Morristown on 
 the 1 2th of December, but had marched no further than Vealtown, 
 barely eight miles distant. There he left Gen. Sullivan with the 
 troops, while he took up his quarters three miles oft', at a tavern, 
 at Baskingridge. As there was not a British cantonment within 
 
1776.] CAPTURE OF GENERAL LEE. 281 
 
 twenty miles, he took but a small guard for his protection, thinking 
 himself perfectly secure. About four o'clock in the morning, Wilk- 
 inson arrived at his quarters. He was presented to the general as 
 he lay in bed, and delivered into his hands the letter of Gen. Gates. 
 Lee, observing it was addressed to Washington, declined opening 
 it, until apprised by Wilkinson of its contents, and the motives of 
 his visit. He then broke the seal, and recommended Wilkinson to 
 take repose. He lingered in bed until eight o'clock, and then 
 came down in his usual slovenly style, half-dressed, in slippers and 
 blanket coat, his collar open, and his linen apparently of some days' 
 wear. After some inquiries about the campaign in the North, he 
 gave Wilkinson a brief account of the operations of the main army, 
 which he condemned in strong terms, and in his usual sarcastic 
 way. Col. Scammel, the adjutant-general, called from Gen. Sulli- 
 van for orders concerning the morning's march. After musing a 
 moment or two, Lee asked him if he had a manuscript map of the 
 country. It was produced, and spread upon a table. Wilkinson 
 observed Lee trace with his finger the route from Vealtown to 
 Pluckamin, thence to Somerset court-house, and on, by Rocky 
 Hill, to Princeton; he then returned to Pluckamin, and traced 
 the route in the same manner by Boundbrook to Brunswick, and 
 after a close inspection carelessly said to Scammel, " Tell Gen. 
 Sullivan to move down toward Pluckamin; that I wi'l soon be 
 with him." This, observes Wilkinson, was off his route to Alex- 
 andria on the Delaware, where he had been ordered to cross, and 
 directly on that toward Brunswick and Princeton. He was con- 
 vinced, therefore, that Lee meditated an attack on the British post 
 at the latter place. Wilkinson was looking out of a window down 
 a lane, about a hundred yards in length, leading from the house to 
 the main road. Suddenly a party of British dragoons turned a 
 corner of the avenue at a full charge. The guards, unwary as 
 their general, and chilled by the air of a frosty morning, had 
 stacked their arms, and repaired to the south side of a house on the 
 opposite side of the road to sun themselves, and were now chased 
 by the dragoons in different directions. The general, bareheaded, 
 and in his shppers and blanket coat, was mounted on Wilkinson's 
 horse, which stood at the door, and the troop clattered off with 
 their prisoner to Brunswick. In three hours the booming of can- 
 non in that direction told the exultation of the enemy. They 
 boasted of having taken the American Palladium ; for they consid- 
 ered Lee the most scientific and experienced of the rebel generals. 
 Gen. Sullivan being now in command, changed his route, and 
 pressed forward to join the commander-in-chief. 
 
 Lee's military reputation, originally very high, had been enhanced 
 of late, by its being generally known that he had been opposed to 
 the occupation of Fort Washington ; while the fall of that fortress 
 and other misfortunes of the campaign, though beyond the control- 
 of the commander-in-chief, had quickened the discontent which, 
 according to Wilkinson, had been generated against him at Cam- 
 bridge, and raised a party against him in Congress. *' It was con- 
 fidently asserted at the time," adds he, "but is not worthy of credit, 
 
282 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 that a motion had been made in that body tending to supersede 
 him in the command of the army. In this temper of the times, if Lee 
 had anticipated General Washington in cutting the cordon of the 
 enemy between New York and the Delaware, the commander-in- 
 chief would probably have been superseded. In this case, Lee would 
 have succeeded him." What an unfortunate change would it have 
 been for the country ! Lee was undoubtedly a man of brilHant 
 talents, shrewd sagacity, and much knowledge and experience in 
 the art of war; but he was willful, and uncertain in his temper, self- 
 indulgent in his habits, and an egotist in warfare ; toldly dashing 
 for a soldier's glory rather than -warily acting for a country's good. 
 He wanted those great moral qualities which, in addition to mili- 
 tary capacity, inspired such universal confidence in the wisdom, 
 rectitude and patriotism of Washington, enabling him to direct and 
 control legislative bodies as well as armies ; to harmonize the jar- 
 ring passions and jealousies of a wide and imperfect confederacy, 
 and to cope with the varied exigencies of the Revolution. The 
 very retreat which Washington had just effected through the Jer- 
 seys bore evidence to his generalship. Thomas Paine, who had 
 accompanied the army "from Fort Lee to the edge of Pennsyl- 
 vania," thus speaks in one of his writings published at the time : 
 " With a handful of men we sustained an orderly retreat for near a 
 hundred miles, brought off our ammunition, all our field-pieces, 
 the greatest part of our stores, and had four rivers to pass. None 
 can say that our retreat was precipitate, for we were three weeks 
 in performing it, that the country might have time to come in. 
 Twice we marched back to meet the enemy, and remained out un- 
 til dark. The sign of fear was not seen in our camp : and had 
 not some of the cowardly and disaffected inhabitants spread false 
 alarms through the country, the Jerseys had never been ravaged." 
 And this is his testimony to the moral qualities of the commander- 
 in-chief, as evinced in this time of perils and hardships. "Vol- 
 taire has remarked, that King William never appeared to full ad- 
 vantage but in difficulties and in action. The same remark may 
 be made by General W'ashington, for the character fits him. 
 There is a natural firmness in some minds, which cannot be un- 
 locked by trifles; but which, when unlocked, discovers a cabinet 
 cf fortitude, and 1 reckon it among those kinds of public blessings 
 which we do not immediately see, that God hath blessed him with 
 uninterrupted health, and given him a mind that can even flourish 
 upon care." 
 
 Congress, prior to their adjournment, had resolved that " until they 
 should otherwise order. General Washington should be possessed 
 of all power to order and direct all things relative to the department 
 and to the operations of war." " Thus empowered, he proceeded 
 immediately to recruit three battalions of artillery. To those 
 whose terms were expiring, he promised an augmentation of 
 twenty-five per cent, upon their pay, and a bounty of ten dollars 
 to the men for six weeks' service; " It was no time." he said, " to 
 stand upon expense ; nor in matters of self-evident exigency, to 
 refer to Congress at the distance of a hundred and thirty or forty 
 
1/76.] PREPARING TO CROSS THE DELAWARE. 283 
 
 miles. It may be thought that I am going a good deal out of the 
 line of my duty, to adopt these measures, or to advise thus 
 freely. A character to lose, an estate to forfeit, the inestimable 
 blessings of liberty at stake, and a life devoted, must be my 
 excuse." The promise of increased pay and bounties had kept 
 together for a time the dissolving army. The local militia began 
 to turn out freely. Col. John Cadwalader, a gentleman of gallant 
 spirit, and cultivated mind and manners, brought a large volunteer 
 detachment, well equipped, and composed principally of Phil- 
 adelphia troops. Washington, who held Cadwalader in high 
 esteem, assigned him an important station at Bristol, with Col. 
 Reed, who was his intimate friend, as an associate. They had it 
 in charge to keep a watchful eye upon Count Donop's Hessians, 
 who were cantoned along the opposite shore from Bordentovvn to 
 the Black Horse. On the 20th of December arrived Gen. 
 Sullivan in camp, with the troops recently commanded by the 
 unlucky Lee. They were in a miserable plight ; destitute of 
 almost everything ; many of them fit only for the hospital, and 
 those whose terms were nearly out, thinking of nothing but their 
 discharge. About four hundred of them, who were Rhode 
 Islanders, were sent down under Col. Hitchcock to reinforce 
 Cadwalader. On the same day arrived Gen. Gates, with the 
 remnants of four regiments from the Northern army. With him 
 came Wilkinson, who now resumed his station as brigade-major in 
 St. Clair's brigade, to which he belonged. To his Memoirs we 
 are indebted for notices of the commander-in-chief. "When the 
 divisions of Sullivan and Gates joined General Washington," 
 writes Wilkinson, "he found his numbers increased, yet his diffi- 
 culties were not sensibly diminished ; ten days would disband his 
 corps and leave him 1,400 men, miserably provided in all things. 
 I saw him in that gloomy period ; dined with him, and attentively 
 marked his aspect ; always grave and thoughtful, he appeared at 
 that time pensive and solemn in the extreme." There were vivid 
 schemes forming under that solemn aspect. The time seemed now 
 propitious for the coup de main which Washington had of late been 
 meditating. Everything showed careless confidence on the part 
 of the enemy. Howe was in winter quarters at New York. His 
 troops were loosely cantoned about the Jerseys, from the Delaware 
 to Brunswick, so that they could not readily be brought to act in 
 concert on a sudden alarm. The Hessians were in the advance, 
 stationed along the Delaware, facing the American lines, which 
 were along the west bank. Cornwallis, thinking his work accom- 
 plished, had obtained leave of absence, and was likewise at New 
 York, preparing to embark for England. Washington had now 
 between five and six thousand men fit for service ; with these he 
 meditated to cross the river at night, at different points, and make 
 simultaneous attacks upon the Hessian advance posts. He 
 calculated upon the eager support of his troops, who were burning 
 to revenge the outrages on their homes and families, committed by 
 these foreign mercenaries. They considered the Hessians mere 
 hirehngs; slaves to a petty despot, fighting for sordid pay, and 
 
284 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 actuated by no sentiment of patriotism or honor. They had 
 rendered themselves the horror of the Jerseys, by rapine, brutahty, 
 and heartlessness. At first, their military discipUne had inspired 
 awe, but of late they had become careless and unguarded, knowing 
 the broken and dispirited state of the Americans, and considering 
 them incapable of any offensive enterprise. 
 
 A brigade of three Hessian regiments, those of Rahl, Lossberg, 
 and Knyphausen, was stationed at Trenton. Col. Rahl had the 
 command of the post at his own solicitation, and in consequence 
 of the laurels he had gained at White Plains and Fort Washington. 
 Whether his men when off duty were well or ill clad, whether they 
 kept their muskets clean and bright, and their ammunition in good 
 order, was of little moment to the colonel, he never inquired about 
 it ; — but the music ! that was the thing ! the hautboys — he never 
 could have enough of them. The main guard was at no great distance 
 from his quarters, and the music could not linger there long enough. 
 He was a boon companion; made merry until a late hour in the night, 
 and then lay in bed until nine o'clock in the morning. When the offi- 
 cers came to parade between ten and eleven o'clock, and presented 
 themselves at headquarters, he was often in his bath, and the guard 
 must be kept waiting half an hour longer. Such was the posture 
 of affairs at Trenton at the time the coup de main was meditated. 
 Whatever was to be done, however, must be done quickly, before 
 the river was frozen. An intercepted letter had convinced 
 Washington of what he had before suspected, that Howe was only 
 waiting for that event to resume active operations, cross the river 
 on the ice, and push on triumphantly to Philadelphia. A letter 
 from W^ashington to Col. Reed, who was stationed with Cadwalader, 
 shows the anxiety of his mind, and his consciousness of the peril 
 of the enterprise. "Christmas day at night, one hour before day, 
 is the time fixed upon for our attempt upon Trenton. For Heaven's 
 sake keep this to yourself, as the discoveiy of it may prove fatal 
 to us; our numbers, I am sorry to say, being less than I had any 
 conception of; yet nothing but necessity, dire necessity, will, nay 
 must, justify an attack. Prepare, and in concert with Griffin, 
 attack as many of their posts as you possibly can, with a prospect 
 of success ; the more we can attack at the same instant, the more 
 confusion we shall spread, and the greater good will result from 
 it. I have ordered our men to be provided with three days' 
 provision ready cooked, with which, and their blankets, they are 
 to march ; for if we are successful, which Heaven grant, and the 
 circumstances favor, we may push on. I shall direct every ferry 
 and ford to be well guarded, and not a soul suffered to pass with- 
 out an officer's going down with the permit." It has been said that 
 Christmas night was fixed upon for the enterprise, because the 
 Germans are prone to revel and carouse on that festival, and it 
 was supposed a great part of the troops would be intoxicated, and 
 in a state of disorder and confusion ; but in truth Washington 
 would have chosen an earlier day, had it been in his power. "We 
 could not ripen matters for the attack before the time mentioned," 
 
\776.] WASHINGTON CROSSES THE DELAWARE. 285 
 
 said he in a letter to Reed, '• so much out of sorts, and so much in 
 want of everything are the troops under SulHvan." 
 
 Early on the eventful evening (Dec, 25th), the troops destined 
 for Washington's part of the attack, about two thousand four 
 hundred strong, with a train of twenty small pieces, were paraded 
 near McKonkey's Ferry, ready to pass as soon as it grew dark, in 
 the hope of being all on the other side by twelve o'clock. 
 Washington repaired to the ground accompanied by Generals 
 Greene, Sullivan, Mercer, Stephen, and Lord Stirling. Greene 
 was full of ardor for the enterprise ; eager, no doubt, to wipe out 
 the recollection of Fort Washington. It was, indeed, an anxious 
 moment for all. Wilkinson had returned from Philadelphia, and 
 brought a letter from Gates to Washington. There was some snow 
 on the ground, and he had traced the march of the troops for the 
 last few miles by the blood from the feet of those whose shoes were 
 broken. Being directed to Washington's quarters, he found him, 
 he says, alone, with his whip in his hand, prepared to mount his 
 horse. " When I presented the letter of Gen. Gates to him, before 
 receiving it, he exclaimed with solemnity, — ' What a time is this to 
 hand me letters ! ' I answered that I had been charged with it by- 
 Gen. Gates. 'By Gen. Gates! Where is he?' 'I left him this 
 morning in Philadelphia.* • What was he doing there?' 'I under- 
 stood him that he was on his way to Congress.* He earnestly 
 repeated, 'On his way to Congress!' then broke the seal, and I 
 made my bow, and joined Gen. St. Clair on the bank of the river." 
 Boats being in readiness, the troops began to cross about sunset. 
 The weather was intensely cold ; the wind was high, the current 
 strong, and the river full of floating ice. Col. Glover, with his 
 amphibious regiment of Marblehead fishermen, was in advance ; 
 the same who had navigated the army across the Sound, in its 
 retreat from Brooklyn on Long Island, to New York. They were 
 men accustomed to battle with the elements, yet with all their skill 
 and experience, the crossing was difficult and perilous. Washing- 
 ton, who had crossed with the troops, stood anxiously, yet padently, 
 on the eastern bank, while one precious hour after another elapsed, 
 until the transportation of the artillery should be effected. The 
 night was dark and tempestuous, the drifting ice drove the boats 
 out of their course, and threatened them with destruction. Col. 
 Knox, who attended to the crossing of the artillery, assisted with 
 his labors, but still more with his "stentorian lungs," giving orders 
 and directions. It was three o'clock before the artillery was 
 landed, and nearly four before the troops took up their line of 
 march. Trenton was nine miles distant ; and not to be reached 
 before daylight. To surprise it, therefore, was out of the question. 
 There was no making a retreat without being discovered, and 
 harassed in repassing the river. Besides, the troops from the other 
 points might have crossed, and cooperation was essential to their 
 safety. Washington resolved to push forward, and trust to 
 Providence. He formed the troops into two columns. The first 
 he led himself, accompanied by Greene, Stirling, Mercer, and 
 Stephen ; it was to make a circuit by the upper or Pennington road, 
 
286 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 to the north of Trenton. The other led by Sullivan, and including 
 the brigade of St. Clair, was to take the lower river road, leading 
 to the west end of the town. Sulhvan's column was to halt a few 
 moments at a cross-road leading to Howland's Ferry, to give 
 Washington's column time to effect its circuit, so that the attack 
 might be simultaneous. On arriving at Trenton, they were to 
 force the outer guards, and push directly into the town before the 
 enemy had time to form. — The garrison and its unwary com- 
 mander slept in fancied security, at the very time that Washing- 
 ton and his troops were making their toilsome way across the 
 Delaware. How perilous would have been their situation had their 
 enemy been more vigilant ! It began to hail and snow as the troops 
 commenced their march, and increased in violence as they 
 advanced, the storm driving the sleet in their faces. So bitter was 
 the cold that two of the men were frozen to death that night. The 
 day dawned by the time Sullivan halted at the cross-road. It was 
 discovered that the storm had rendered many of the muskets wet 
 and useless. "What is to be done?" inquired SuUivan of St. 
 Clair. "You have nothing for it but to push on, and use the 
 bayonet," was the reply. While some of the soldiers were 
 endeavoring to clear their muskets, and squibbing off priming, 
 Sullivan dispatched an officer to apprise the commander-in-chief 
 of the condition of their arms. He came back half-dismayed by 
 an indignant burst of Washington, who ordered him to return 
 instantly and tell Sullivan to "advance and charge." It was 
 about eight o'clock when Washington's column arrived in the 
 vicinity of the village. The storm, which had rendered the march 
 intolerable, had kept every one within doors, and the snow had 
 deadened the tread of the troops and the rumbling of the artillery. 
 As they approached the village, Washington, who was in front, 
 came to a man that was chopping wood by the road-side, and 
 inquired, "Which way is the Hessian picket? " " I don't know," 
 was the surly reply. "You may tell," said Capt. Forest of the 
 artillery, "for that is General Washington." The aspect of the 
 man changed in an instant. Raising his hands to heaven, "God 
 bless and prosper you ! " cried he. "The picket is in that house, 
 and the sentry stands near that tree." The advance guard was 
 led by a brave young officer, Capt. William A. Washington, 
 seconded by Lieut. James Monroe (in after years President of the 
 United States). They received orders to dislodge the picket. By 
 this time the American artillery was unlimbered ; Washington kept 
 beside it, and the column proceeded. The report of fire-arms told 
 that Sullivan was at the lower end of the town. Col. Stark led 
 his advance guard in gallant style. The attacks, as concerted, 
 w^ere simultaneous. The outposts were driven in ; they retreated, 
 firing from behind houses. The Hessian drums beat to arms ; the 
 trumpets of the light-horse sounded the alarm ; the whole place 
 was in an uproar. Some of the enemy made a wild and undirected 
 fire from the windows of their quarters ; others rushed forth in 
 disorder, and attempted to form in the main street, while dragoons 
 hastily mounted, and galloping about, added to the confusion. 
 
1776.] THE HESSIANS SURRENDER. 2S7 
 
 Washington advanced with his cohmin to the head of King street ; 
 riding beside Capt. Forest of the artillery. When Forest's battery 
 of six guns was opened the general kept on the left and advanced 
 with it, giving directions to the fire. His position was an exposed 
 one, and he was repeatedly entreated to fall back ; but all such 
 entreaties were useless, when once he became heated in action. The 
 enemy were training a couple of cannon in the main street to form a 
 battery, which might have given the Americans a serious check ; 
 but Capt. Washington and Lieut. Monroe, with apart of the advance 
 guard, rushed forward, drove the artillerists from their guns, and 
 took the two pieces when on the point of being fired. Both of 
 these officers were wounded ; the captain in tl^ wrist, the lieutenant 
 in the shoulder. While Washington advanced on the north of the 
 town, Sullivan approached on the west, and detached Stark to 
 press on the lower or south end of the town. The British light- 
 horse, and about five hundred Hessians and chasseurs, had been 
 quartered in the lower part of the town. Seeing Washington's 
 column pressing in front, and hearing Stark thundering in their 
 rear, they took headlong flight by the bridge across the Assunpink. 
 and so along the banks of the Delaware toward Count Donop's 
 encampment at Bordentown. Colonel Rahl led his grenadiers 
 bravely but rashly on, when, in the midst of his career, he received 
 a fatal wound from a musket ball, and fell from his horse. His 
 men, left without their chief, were struck with dismay ; heedless 
 of the orders of the second in command, they retreated by the 
 right up the banks of the Assunpink, intending to escape to Prince- 
 ton. Washington saw their design, and threw Hand's corps of 
 Pennsylvania riflemen in their way ; while a body of Virginia 
 troops gained their left. Brought to a stand, and perfectly 
 bewildered, Washington thought they were forming in order of 
 battle, and ordered a discharge of canister shot. " Sir, they have 
 struck," exclaimed Forest. "Struck!" echoed the general. 
 "Yes, sir, their colors are down." "So they are!" replied 
 Washington, and spurred in that direction, followed by Forest and 
 his whole command. The men grounded their arms and sur- 
 rendered at discretion; "but had not Col. Rahl been severely 
 wounded," remarks his loyal corporal, "we would never have been 
 taken alive ! " The skirmishing had now ceased in every direction. 
 Major Wilkinson, who was with the lower column, was sent to the 
 commander-in-chief for orders. He rode up, he says, at the 
 moment that Col. Rahl, supported by a file of sergeants, was 
 presenting his sword. "On my approach," continues he, "the 
 commander-in-chief took me by the hand, and observed, 'Major 
 Wilkinson, this is a glorious day for our country !' his countenance 
 beaming with complacency ; while the unfortunate Rahl, who the 
 day before would not have changed fortunes with him, now pale, 
 bleeding, and covered with blood, in broken accents seemed to 
 implore those attentions which the victor was well disposed to 
 bestow on him." He was conveyed with great care to his quarters, 
 which were in the house of a kind and respectable Quaker family. 
 The number of prisoners taken in this affair was nearly one 
 
288 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 thousand, of which thirty-two were officers. The veteran Major 
 Von Dechow, who had urged in vain the throwing up of breast- 
 works, received a mortal wound, of which he died in Trenton. 
 Washington's triumph, however, was impaired by the failure of the 
 two simultaneous attacks. Gen. Ewing, who was to have crossed 
 before day at Trenton Ferry, and taken possession of the bridge 
 leading out of the town, over which the light-horse and Hessians 
 retreated, was prevented by the quantity of ice in the river. 
 Cadwalader was hindered by the same obstacle. He got part of 
 his troops over, but found it impossible to embark his cannon, and 
 was obliged, therefore, to return to the Pennsylvania side of the 
 river. Had he and Ewing crossed, Donop's quarters would have 
 been beaten up, and the fugitives from Trenton intercepted. By 
 the failure of this part of his plan, Washington had been exposed 
 to the most imminent hazard. The force with which he had crossed, 
 twenty-four hundred men, raw troops, was not enough to cope with 
 the veteran garrison, had it been properly on its guard ; and then 
 there were the troops under Donop at hand to cooperate with it. 
 Nothing saved him but the utter panic of the enemy ; their want 
 of proper alarm places, and their exaggerated idea of his forces. 
 Even now that the place was in his possession he dared not linger in 
 it. There was a superior force under Donop below him, and a 
 strong battalion of infantry at Princeton. His own troops w^erc 
 exhausted by the operations of the night and morning in cold, rain, 
 snow and storm. They had to guard about a thousand prisoners, 
 taken in action or found concealed in houses ; there was little 
 prospect of succor, owing to the season and the state of the river. 
 Washington gave up, therefore, all idea of immediately pursuing 
 the enemy or keeping possession of Trenton, and determined to 
 recross the Delaware with his prisoners and captured artillery. 
 Understanding that the brave but unfortunate Rahl was in a dying 
 state, he paid him a visit before leaving Trenton, accompanied by 
 Gen. Greene. They found him at his quarters in the house of a 
 Quaker family. Their visit and the respectful consideration and 
 unaffected sympathy manifested by them, evidently soothed the 
 feelings of the unfortunate soldier ; now stripped of his late won 
 laurels, and resigned to die rather than outHve his honor. The 
 Hessian prisoners were conveyed across the Delaware by Johnson's 
 Ferry into Pennsylvania ; the private soldiers were marched off 
 immediately to Newtown ; the officers, twenty-three in number, 
 remained in a small chamber in the Ferry House, where, according 
 to their own account, they passed a dismal night ; sore at heart 
 that their recent triumphs at White Plains and Fort Washington 
 should be so suddenly eclipsed. On the following morning they 
 were conducted to Newtown, where the officers were quartered in 
 inns and private houses, the soldiers in the church and jail. The 
 officers paid a visit to Lord Stirling, whom some of them had known 
 from his being captured at Long Island, He received them with 
 great kindness. " Your general, Van Heister," said he, "treated 
 me like a brother when I w^as a prisoner, and so, gentlemen, will 
 you be treated by me." "We had scarce seated ourselves," 
 
1776.] GENERAL HOWE ASTONISHED. 289 
 
 continues Lieut. Piel, "when a long, meager, dark-looking man, 
 whom we took for the parson of the place, stepped forth and held 
 a discourse in German, in which he endeavored to set forth the 
 justice of the American side in this war. He told us he was a 
 Hanoverian born ; called the king of England nothing but the 
 Elector of Hanover, and spoke of him so contemptuously that his 
 garrulity became intolerable. We answered that we had not come 
 to America to inquire which party was in the right ; but to fight for 
 the king." The Hessian prisoners were subsequendy transferred 
 from place to place, until they reached Winchester in the interior 
 of Virginia. Wherever they arrived, people thronged from far and 
 near to see these terrible beings of whom they had received such 
 formidable accounts ; and were surprised and disappointed to find 
 them looking hke other men. At first they had to endure the 
 hootings and revilings of the multitude, for having hired themselves 
 out to the trade of blood ; and they especially speak of the 
 scoldings they received from old women in the villages, who 
 upbraided them for coming to rob them of their liberty. "At 
 length," writes the corporal in his journal, " General Washington 
 had written notices put up in town and country, that we were 
 innocent of this war and had joined in it not of our free will, but 
 through compulsion. We should, therefore, be treated not as 
 enemies, but friends. From this time," adds he, "things went 
 better with us. Every day came many out of the towns, old and 
 young, rich and poor, and brought us provisions, and treated us 
 with kindness and humanity." — General Howe was taking his 
 ease in winter quarters at New York, waiting for the freezing of the 
 Delaware to pursup his triumphant march to Philadelphia, when 
 tidings were brought him of the surprise and capture of the 
 Hessians at Trenton. "That these old established regiments of a 
 people who made war their profession, should lay down their arms 
 to a ragged and undisciplined militia, and that with scarcely any 
 loss on either side," was a matter of amazement. He instantly 
 stopped Lord CornwalUs, who was on the 'point of embarking for 
 England, and sent him back in all haste to resume the command 
 in the Jerseys. The ice in the Delaware impeded the crossing of 
 the American troops, and gave the British time to draw in their 
 scattered cantonments and assemble their whole force at Princeton. 
 While his troops were yet crossing, Washington sent out Col. Reed 
 to reconnoitre the position and movementsof the enemy and obtain 
 information. Emerging from a wood almost within view of 
 Princeton, they caught sight, from a rising ground, of two or three 
 red coats passing from time to time from a barn to a dwelling 
 house. Here must be an outpost. Keeping the barn in a hne with 
 the house so as to cover their approach, they dashed up to the 
 latter without being discovered, and surrounded it. Twelve 
 British dragoons were within, who, though well armed, were so 
 panic-stricken that they surrendered without making a defence. 
 Col. Reed and his six cavaliers returned in triumph to headquarters. 
 Important information was obtained from their prisoners. Lord 
 Cornwallis had joined Gen. Grant the day before at Princeton, with 
 
290 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 a reinforcement of chosen troops. They had now seven or eight 
 thousand men, and were pressing wagons for a march upon 
 Trenton. The situation of Washington was growing critical. The 
 enemy were beginning to advance their large pickets toward 
 Trenton. Everything indicated an approaching attack. The force 
 with him was small ; to retreat across the river would destroy the 
 dawn of hope awakened in the bosoms of the Jersey militia by the 
 late exploit; but to make a stand without reinforcements was 
 impossible. In this emergency, he called to his aid Gen. 
 Cadwalader from Crosswicks, and Gen. Mifflin from Bordentown, 
 with their collective forces, amounting to about three thousand six 
 hundred men. They promptly answered to his call, and marching 
 in the night, joined him on the 1st of January. He chose a position 
 for his mam body on the east side of the Assunpink. There was 
 a narrow stone bridge across it, where the water was very deep ; 
 the same bridge over which part of Rahl's brigade had escaped in 
 the recent affair. He planted his artillery so as to command the 
 bridge and the fords. His advance guard stationed about three 
 miles off in a wood, having in front a stream called Shabbakong 
 Creek. Early on the morning of the 2d, came certain word that 
 Cornwallis was approaching with all his force. Strong parties 
 were sent out under Gen. Greene, who skirmished with the enemy 
 and harassed them in their advance. By twelve o'clock they 
 reached the Shabbakong. Then crossing it, and moving forward 
 with rapidity, they drove the advance guard out of the woods, and 
 pushed on until they reached a high ground near the town. Here 
 Hand's corps of several battalions was drawn up, and held them 
 for a time in check. It was nearly sunset before Cornwallis with 
 the head of his army entered Trenton. His rear-guard under Gen. 
 Leslie rested at Maiden Head, about six miles distant, and nearly 
 half way between Trenton and Princeton. Forming his troops 
 into columns, he now made repeated attempts to cross the Assunpink 
 at the bridge and the fords, but was as often repulsed by the 
 artillery. For a part of the time Washington, mounted on a white 
 horse, stationed himself at the south end of the bridge, issuing his 
 orders. Each time the enemy was repulsed there was a shout 
 along the American lines. At length they drew off, came to a halt, 
 and lighted their camp fires. The Americans did the same, using 
 the neighboring fences for the purpose. Sir William Erskine, who 
 was with Cornwallis, urged him it is said, to attack Washington 
 that evening in his camp ; but his lordship declined ; he felt sure 
 of the game which had so often escaped him ; and he was willing 
 to give his wearied troops a night's repose to prepare them for the 
 closing struggle. A cannonade was kept up on both sides until 
 dark ; but with little damage to the Americans. It was the most 
 gloomy and anxious night that had yet closed in on the American 
 army, throughout its series of perils and disasters ; for there was no 
 concealing the impending danger. But what must have been the 
 feehngs of the commander-in-chief, as he anxiously patrolled his 
 camp, and considered his desperate position ? A small stream, 
 fordable in several places, was all that separated his raw, 
 
177;-] THE AMERICAN FABIVS STRIKES AGAIN, 291 
 
 inexperienced army, from an enemy vastly superior in numbers 
 and discipline, and stung to action by the mortification of a late 
 defeat. A general action with them must be ruinous ; but how 
 was he to retreat? In this darkest of moments a gleam of hope 
 flashed upon his mind ; a bold expedient suggested itself. Almost 
 the whole of the enemy's force must by this time be drawn out of 
 Princeton, and advancing by detachments toward Trenton, while 
 their baggage and principal stores must remain weakly guarded at 
 Brunswick. Was it not possible by a rapid night-march along the 
 Quaker road, a different road from that on which Gen. Leslie with 
 the rear-guard was resting, to get past that force undiscovered, 
 come by surprise upon those left at Princeton, capture or destroy 
 what stores were left there, and then push on to Brunswick? This 
 would save the army from being cut off; would avoid the appear- 
 ance of a defeat; and might draw the enemy away from Trenton. 
 Such was the plan which Washington revolved in his mind on the 
 gloomy banks of the Assunpink, and which he laid before ,his 
 ofificers in a council of war, held after nightfall, at the quarters of 
 General Mercer. It met with instant concurrence, being of that 
 hardy, adventurous kind, which seems congenial with the Ameri- 
 can character. One formidable difficulty presented itself. The 
 weather was unusually mild ; there was a thaw, by which the roads 
 might be rendered deep and miry, and almost impassable. 
 Fortunately, or rather providentially, as Washington was prone to 
 consider it, the wind veered to the north in the course of the 
 evening; the weather became intensely cold, and in two hours the 
 roads were once more hard and frost-bound. In the meantime, 
 the baggage of the army was silently removed to BurUngton, and 
 every other preparation was made for a rapid march. To deceive 
 the enemy, men were employed to dig trenches near the bridge 
 within hearing of the British sentries, with orders to continue 
 noisily at work until daybreak; others were to go the rounds; 
 relieve guards at the bridge and fords ; keep up the camp fires, 
 and maintain all the appearance of a regular encampment. At 
 daybreak they were to hasten after the army. In the dead of the 
 night, the army drew quietly out of the encampment and began its 
 march. Gen. Mercer, mounted on a favorite gray horse, was in 
 the advance with the remnant of his flying camp, now but about 
 three hundred and fifty men, principally relics of the brave Dela- 
 ware and Maryland regiments, with some of the Pennsylvania 
 militia. The main body followed, under Washington's immediate 
 command. The Quaker road was a complete roundabout, joining 
 the main road about two miles from Princeton, where Washington 
 expected to arrive before daybreak. The road, however, was new 
 and rugged ; cut through woods, where the stumps of trees broke 
 the wheels of some of the baggage trains, and retarded the march 
 of the troops ; so that it was near sunrise of a bright, frosty 
 morning, when Washington reached the bridge over Stony Brook, 
 a'oout three miles from Princeton. After crossing the bridge, he 
 led his troops along the bank of the brook to the edge of a wood, 
 where a by-road led off on the right through low grounds. By this 
 
292 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 road Washington defiled with the main body, ordering Mercer to 
 continue along the brook with his brigade, until he should arrive 
 at the main road, M'here he was to secure, and, if possible, destroy 
 a bridge over which it passes ; so as to intercept any fugitives from 
 Princeton, and check any retrograde movements of the British 
 troops which might have advanced toward Trenton. Three 
 regiments, the 17th, 40th, and 55th, with three troops of dragoons, 
 had been quartered all night in Princeton, under marching orders 
 to join Lord Cornwallis in the morning. The 17th regiment, under 
 Col. Mawhood, was already on the march ; the 55th regiment was 
 preparing to follow. Mawhood had crossed the bridge by which 
 the old or main road to Trenton passes over Stony Brook, and was 
 proceeding through a wood beyond, when, as he attained the 
 summit of a hill about sunrise, the glittering of arms betrayed to 
 him the movement of Mercer's troops to the left, who were filing 
 along the Quaker road to secure the bridge, as they had been 
 ordered. The woods prevented him from seeing their number. 
 He supposed them to be some broken portion of the American 
 army flying before Lord Cornwallis. With this idea, he faced 
 about and made a retrograde movement, to intercept them or hold 
 them in check ; while messengers spurred off at all speed, to 
 hasten forward the regiments still lingering at Princeton, so as 
 completely to surround them. The woods concealed him until he 
 had recrossed the bridge of Stony Brook, when he came in full 
 sight of the van of Mercer's brigade. Both parties pushed to get 
 possession of a rising ground on the right near the house of a Mr. 
 Clark, of the peaceful Society of Friends. The Americans being 
 nearest, reached it first, and formed behind a hedge fence which 
 extended along a slope in front of the house; whence, being 
 chiefly armed with rifles, they opened a destructive fire. It was 
 returned with great spirit by the enemy. At the first discharge 
 Mercer was dismounted, *'his gallant gray" being crippled by a 
 musket ball in the leg. One of his colonels, also, was mortally 
 wounded and carried to the rear. Availing themselves of the con- 
 fusion thus occasioned, the British charged witli the bayonet; the 
 American riflemen having no weapon of the kind, were thrown 
 into disorder and retreated. Mercer, who was on foot, endeavored 
 to rally them, when a blow from the butt end of a musket felled 
 him to the ground. He rose and defended himself with his sword, 
 but was surrounded, bayoneted repeatedly, and left for dead. 
 Mawhood pursued the broken and retreating troops to the brow of 
 the rising ground, on which Clark's house was situated, when he 
 beheld a large force emerging from a wood and advancing to the 
 rescue. It was a body of Pennsylvania militia, which Washington, 
 on hearing the firing, had detached to the support of Mercer. 
 Mawhood instantly ceased pursuit, drew up his artillery, and by a 
 heavy discharge brought the militia to a stand. At this moment 
 Washington himself arrived at the scene of action, having 
 galloped from the by-road in advance of his troops. From a 
 rising ground he beheld Mercer's troops retreating in confusion, 
 and the detachment of militia checked by Mawhood* s artillery. 
 
1777.] THE BRITISH DEFEATED. 293 
 
 Everything was at peril. Putting spurs to his horse he dashed 
 past the hesitating miUtia, waving his hat and cheering them on. 
 His commanding figure and white horse made him a conspicuous 
 object for the enemy's marksmen ; but he heeded it not. Galloping 
 forward under the fire of Mawhood's battery, he called upon 
 Mercer's broken brigade. The Pennsylvanians rallied at the sound 
 of his voice, and caught fire from his example. At the same time 
 the 7th Virginia regiment emerged from the wood, and moved 
 forward with loud cheers, while a fire of grape-shot was opened by 
 Capt. Moulder of the American artillery, from the brow of a 
 ridge to the south. Col. Mawhood, who a moment before had 
 thought his triumph secure, found himself assailed on every side, 
 and separated from the other British regiments. He fought, 
 however, with great bravery, and for a short time the action was 
 desperate. Washington was in the midst of it; equally en- 
 dangered by the random fire of his own men, and the artillery 
 and musketry of the enemy. His aide-de-camp. Col. Fitzgerald, 
 a young and ardent Irishman, losing sight of him in the heat of 
 the fight when enveloped in dust and smoke, dropped the bridle 
 on the neck of his horse and drew his hat over his eyes; giving 
 him up for lost. When he saw him, however, emerge from the 
 cloud, waving his hat, and beheld the enemy giving way, he spurred 
 up to his side. " Thank God," cried he, "your excellency is safe ! " 
 "Away, my dear colonel, and bring up the troops," was the 
 reply; "the day is our own!" It was one of those occasions in 
 which the latent fire of Washington's character blazed forth. 
 Mawhood, by this time, had forced his way, at the point of the 
 • bayonet, through gathering foes, though with heavy loss, back to 
 the main road, and was in full retreat toward Trenton to join 
 Cornwallis. Washington detached Major Kelly with a party of 
 Pennsylvania troops, to destroy the bridge at Stony Brook, over 
 which Mawhood had retreated, so as to impede the advance of 
 Gen. Leslie from Maiden Head. In the meantime the 55th 
 regiment, which had been on the left and nearer Princeton, had 
 been encountered by the American advance-guard under Gen. St. 
 Clair, and after some sharp fighting in a ravine had given way, 
 and was retreating across fields and along a by-road to Brunswick. 
 The remaining regiment, the 40th, had not been able to come up in 
 time for the action ; a part of it fled toward Brunswick ; the residue 
 took refuge in the college at Princeton, recently occupied by them 
 as barracks. Artillery was now brought to bear on the college, 
 and a few shot compelled those within to surrender. In this brief 
 but brilliant action, about one hundred of the British were left dead 
 on the field, and nearly three hundred taken prisoners, fourteen 
 of whom were officers. Among the slain was Captain Leslie, son 
 of the Earl of Leven. His death was greatly lamented by his 
 captured companions. The loss of the Americans was about twenty- 
 five or thirty men and several officers. Among the latter was Col. 
 Haslet, who had distinguished himself throughout the campaign, 
 by being among the foremost in services of danger. He was 
 indeed a gallant officer, and gallantly seconded by his Delaware 
 
294 Z//r£' OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 troops. A greater loss was that of Gen. Mercer. He was said to 
 be either dead or dying, in the house of Mr. Clark, whither he had 
 been conveyed by his aide-de-camp, Major Armstrong, who found 
 him, after the retreat of Mawhood's troops, lying on the field 
 gashed with several wounds, and insensible from cold and loss of 
 blood, Washington would have ridden back from Princeton to 
 visit him, and have him conveyed to a place of greater security ; 
 but was assured, that, if alive, he was too desperately wounded to 
 bear removal ; in the meantime he was in good hands, being 
 faithfully attended to by his aide-de-camp. Major Armstrong, 
 and treated with the utmost care and kindness by Mr. Clark's 
 family. Washington was called away by the exigencies of his 
 command, having to pursue the routed regiments which were 
 making a headlong retreat to Brunswick. In this pursuit he took 
 the lead at the head of a detachment of cavalry. At Kingston, 
 however, three miles to the north-east of Princeton, he pulled up, 
 restrained his ardor, and held a council of war on horseback. 
 Should he keep on to Brunswick or not ? The capture of the 
 British stores and baggage would make his triumph complete ; but, 
 on the other hand, his troops were excessively fatigued by their 
 rapid march all night and hard fight in the morning. All of them 
 had been one night without sleep, and some of them two, and 
 many were half-starved. They were without blankets, thinly clad, 
 some of them barefooted, and this in freezing weather. Cornwallis 
 would be upon them before they could reach Brunswick. His 
 rear-guard, under Gen. Leslie, had been quartered about six miles 
 from Princeton, and the retreating troops must have roused them. 
 Under these considerations, it was determined to- discontinue the 
 pursuit and push for Morristown. There they would be in a 
 mountainous country, heavily wooded, in an abundant neighbor- 
 hood, and on the flank of the enemy, with various defiles by which 
 they might change their position according to his movements. 
 Filing off to the left, therefore, from Kingston, and breaking down 
 the bridge behind him, Washington took the narrow road by Rocky 
 Hill to Pluckamin. His troops were so exhausted, that many in 
 the course of the march would lie dovvn in the woods on the frozen 
 ground and fall asleep, and were with difficulty roused and cheered 
 forward. At Pluckamin he halted for a time, to allow them a httle 
 repose and refreshment. — Cornwallis had retired to rest at Trenton 
 with the sportman* s vaunt that he would ' ' bag the fox i n the morning. ' ' 
 Nothing could surpass his surprise and chagrin, when at daybreak 
 the expiring watch-fires and deserted camp of the Americans told 
 him that the prize had once more evaded his grasp; that the 
 general whose military skill he had decried had outgeneraled him. 
 By sunrise there was the booming of cannon, like the rumbling of 
 distant thunder in the direction of Princeton. The idea flashed 
 upon him that Washington had not merely escaped but was about 
 to make a dash at the British magazines at Brunswick. Alarmed 
 for the safety of his military stores his lordship forthwith broke up 
 his camp and made a rapid march toward Princeton. As he 
 arrived in sight of the bridge over Stony Brook he beheld Major 
 
1777] CO RNWALLIS PANIC-STRUCK, 295 
 
 Kelly and his party busy in its destruction, A distant discharge 
 of round shot from his field-pieces drove them away, but the bridge 
 was already broken. It would take time to repair it for the passage 
 of the artillery ; so Cornwallis in his impatience urged his troops 
 breast-high through the turbulent and icy stream and again pushed 
 forward. He was brought to a stand by the discharge of a thirty - 
 two pounder from a distant breastwork. Supposing the Americans 
 to be there in force, and prepared to make resistance, he sent out 
 some horsemen to reconnoiter, and advanced to storm the battery. 
 There was no one there. The thirty-two pounder had been left 
 behind by the Americans, as too unwieldy, and a match had been 
 applied to it by some lingerer of Washington's rear-guard. 
 Without further delay Cornwallis hurried forward, eager to save 
 his magazines. Crossing the bridge at Kingston, he kept on along 
 the Brunswick road. Washington had got far in the advance, during 
 the delays caused by the broken bridge at Stony Brook, and the 
 discharge of the thirty-two pounder; and the alteration of his 
 course at Kingston had carried him completely out of the way of 
 Cornwallis. His lordship reached Brunswick toward evening, and 
 endeavored to console himself, by the safety of the military stores, 
 for being so completely foiled and outmaneuvered. 
 
 Washington, in the mean-time, was ^11 on the alert ; the lion 
 part of his nature was aroused ; and while his weary troops were 
 in a manner panting upon the ground around him, he was dis- 
 patching missives and calhng out aid to enable him to follow up 
 his successes. In a letter to Putnam, written from Pluckamin dur- 
 ing the halt, he says: "The enemy appear to be panic-struck. I 
 am in hopes of driving them out of the Jerseys." He continued 
 forward to Morristown, where at length he came to a halt from his 
 incessant and harassing marchings. There he learned that Gen, 
 Mercer was still alive. He immediately sent his own nephew, 
 Major George Lewis, under the protection of a flag, to attend 
 upon him. Mercer had indeed been kindly nursed by a daughter 
 of Mr. Clark and a negro woman, who had not been frightened 
 from their home by the storm of battle which raged around it. At 
 the time that the troops of Cornwallis approached, Major Arm- 
 strong was binding up Mercer's wounds. The latter insisted on 
 his leaving him in the kind hands of Mr. Clark's household, and 
 rejoining the army. Lewis found him languishing in great pain ; he 
 had been treated with respect by the enemy, and great tenderness by 
 the benevolent family who had sheltered him. He expired in the 
 arms of Major Lewis on the 12th of January, in the fifty-sixth year 
 of his age. Dr. Benjamin Rush, afterward celebrated as a physi- 
 cian, was with him when he died. He was upright, intelligent and 
 brave ; esteemed as a soldier and beloved as a man, and by none 
 more so than by Washington. His career as a general had been 
 brief; but long enough to secure him a lasting renow-n. His name 
 remains one of the consecrated names of the Revolution. 
 
 Washington, having received reinforcements of militia, contin- 
 ued, with his scanty army, to carry on his system of annoyance. 
 The situation of CornwaUis, who, but a short time before, traversed 
 
296 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the Jerseys so triumphantly, became daily more and more irk- 
 some. Spies were in his camp, to give notice of every movement, 
 and foes without to take advantage of it ; so that not a foraging 
 party could sally forth without being waylaid. By degrees he 
 drew in his troops which were posted about the country, and col- 
 lected them at New Brunswick and Amboy, so as to have a com- 
 munication by water w^ith New York, whence he was now com- 
 pelled to draw nearly all his supplies; "presenting," to use the 
 words of Hamilton, "the extraordinary spectacle of a powerful 
 army, straitened within narrow limits by the phantom of a military 
 force, and never permitted to transgress those limits with impunity." 
 In fact, the recent operations in the Jerseys had suddenly changed 
 the whole aspect of the war, and given a triumphant close to what 
 had been a disastrous campaign. The troops, which for months 
 had been driven from post to post, apparently an undisciplined 
 rabble, had all at once turned upon their pursuers, and astounded 
 them by brilliant stratagems and daring exploits. The comman- 
 der, whose cautious policy had been sneered at by enemies, and 
 regarded with impatience by misjudging friends, had all at once 
 shown that he possessed enterprise, as well as circumspection, 
 energy as well as endurance, and that beneath his wary coldness 
 lurked a fire to break forth at the proper moment. This year's 
 campaign, the most critical one of the war, and especially the part of 
 it which occurred in the Jerseys, was the ordeal that made his great 
 qualities fully appreciated by his countrymen, and gained for him 
 from the statesmen and generals of Europe the appellation of the 
 American Fabius. 
 
 The news of Washington's recrossing the Delaware and of his 
 subsequent achievements in the Jerseys had not reached London 
 on the 9th of January. "The affairs of America seem to be draw- 
 ing to a crisis," writes Edmund Burke. "The Howes are at this 
 time in possession of, or able to awe the whole middle coast of 
 America, from Delaware to the western boundary of Massachu- 
 setts Bay ; the naval barrier on the side of Canada is broken. A 
 great tract is open for the supply of the troops ; the river Hudson 
 opens away into the heart of the provinces, and nothing can, in all 
 probability, prevent an early and offensive campaign. What the 
 Americans have done is, in their circumstances, truly astonishing ; 
 it is indeed infinitely more than I expected from them. But, hav- 
 ing done so much for some short time, I began to entertain an 
 opinion that they might do more." At the time when this was writ- 
 ten, the Howes had learned to their mortification, that "the mere 
 running through a province, is not subduing it." The British 
 commanders had been outgeneraled, attacked and defeated. 
 They had nearly been driven out of the Jerseys, and were now 
 hemmed in and held in check by Washington and his handful of 
 men castled among the heights of Morristown. So far from hold- 
 ing possession of the territory they had so recently overrun, they 
 were fain to ask safe conduct across it for a convoy to their soldiers 
 captured in battle. It must have been a severe trial to the pride 
 of Cornwallis, when he had to inquire by letter of Washington, 
 
I777J BRITISH ARMY STRAITENED. 297 
 
 whether money and stores could be sent to the Hessians captured 
 at Trenton, and a surgeon and medicines to the wounded at Prince- 
 ton ; and Washington's reply must have conveyed a reproof still 
 more mortifying : No molestation, he assured his lordship, would 
 be offered to the convoy by any part of the regular army under 
 his command ; but " he could not ansioerfor the militia, who were 
 resorting to arms in 7nost parts of the State, and were excessively 
 exasperated at the treat>nent they had met with from both Hes- 
 sian and British troops.'* In fact, the conduct of the enemy had 
 roused the whole country against them. The proclamations and 
 printed protections of the British commanders, on the faith of which 
 the inhabitants in general had staid at home, and forebore to take 
 up arms, had proved of no avail. The Hessians could not or 
 would not understand them, but plundered friend and foe alike. 
 The British soldiery often followed their example, and the plun- 
 derings of both were at times attended by those brutal outrages on 
 the weaker sex, which inflame the dullest spirits to revenge. The 
 whole State was thus roused against its invaders. In Washington's 
 retreat of more than a hundred miles through the Jerseys, he had 
 never been joined by more than one hundred of its inhabitants ; 
 now sufferers of both parties rose as one man to avenge their per- 
 sonal injuries. The late quiet yeomanry armed themselves, and 
 scoured the country in small parties to sieze on stragglers, and the 
 mihtia began to signalize themselves in voluntary skirmishes with 
 regular troops. Morristown, where the main army was encamped, 
 was well situated for the system of petty warfare whichWashington 
 meditated, and induced him to remain there. It was protected by 
 forests and rugged heights. All approach from the seaboard 
 was rendered difficult and dangerous to a hostile force by a chain 
 of sharp hills, extending from Pluckamin, by Boundbrook and 
 Springfield, to the vicinity of the Passaic River, while various 
 defiles in the rear afforded safer retreats into a fertile and well peo- 
 pled region. It was nearly equidistant from Amboy, Newark, and 
 Brunswick, the principal postsof the enemy ; so that any movement 
 made from them could be met by a counter movement on his 
 part ; while the forays and skirmishes by which he might harass 
 them, would school and season his own troops. He had three 
 faithful generals with him : Greene, his reliance on all occasions ; 
 swarthy Sullivan, whose excitable temper and quick sensibilities 
 he had sometimes to keep in cheek by friendly counsels and 
 rebukes, but who w^as a good officer, and loyally attached to him ; 
 and brave, genial, generous Knox, never so happy as when by his 
 side. He had lately been advanced to the rank of brigadier at 
 his recommendation, and commanded the artillery. Washington's 
 headquarters at first were in what was called the Freemasons* 
 Tavern, on the north side of the village green. His troops were 
 encamped about the vicinity of the village, at first in tents, until 
 they could build log huts for shelter against the winter's cold. 
 The main encampment was near Bottle Hill, in a sheltered valley 
 which was thickly wooded, and had abundant springs. It exten- 
 ded south-easterly from Morristown ; and was called the Lowan- 
 
 4 
 
298 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 tica Valley, from the Indian name of a beautiful limpid brook 
 which ran through it, and lost itself in a great swamp. 
 
 The enemy being now concentrated at New Brunswick and 
 Amboy, Gen. Putnam was ordered by Washington to move from 
 Crosswicks to Princeton, with the troops under his command. He 
 was instructed to draw his forage as much as possible from the 
 neighborhood of Brunswick, about eighteen miles off, thereby con- 
 tributing to distress the enemy; and if compelled to leave Prince- 
 ton, to retreat toward the mountains, so as to form a junction with 
 the forces at Morristown. Cantonments were gradually formed 
 between Princeton and the Highlands of the Hudson, which made 
 the left flank of Washington's position, and where Gen. Heath had 
 command. Gen. Philemon Dickinson, who commanded the New 
 Jersey militia, was stationed on the west side of Millstone River, 
 near Somerset court-house, one of the nearest posts to the enemy's 
 camp at Brunswick. A British foraging party, of five or six hun- 
 dred strong, sent out by Cornwallis with forty wagons and upward 
 of a hundred draught horses, mostly of the English breed, having 
 collected sheep and cattle about the country, were sacking a mill 
 on the opposite side of the river, where a large quantity of flour was 
 deposited. While thus employed, Dickinson set upon them with a 
 force equal in number, but composed of raw militia and fifty Phil- 
 adelphia riflemen. He dashed through the river, waist deep, with 
 his men, and charged the enemy so suddenly and vigorously, that, 
 though supported by three field-pieces, they gave way, left their 
 convoy, and retreated so precipitately, that he made only nine 
 prisoners. A number of killed and wounded were carried off by 
 the fugitives on hght wagons. These exploits of the militia were 
 noticed with high encomiums by Washington, while at the same 
 time he was rigid in prohibiting and punishing the excesses into 
 which men are apt to run when suddenly clothed with military 
 power. 
 
 To counteract the proclamation of the British commissioners, 
 promising amnesty to all in rebellion who should, in a given time, 
 return to their allegiance, Washington now issued a counter pro- 
 clamation (Jan. 25th), commanding every person who had sub- 
 scribed a declaration of fidelity to Great Britain, or taken an oath 
 of allegiance, to repair within thirty days to headquarters, or 
 the quarters of the nearest general officer of the Continental 
 army or of the militia, and there take the oath of allegiance to 
 the United States of America, and give up any protection, cer- 
 tificate, or passport he might have received from the enemy; at 
 the same time granting full liberty to all such as preferred the 
 interest and protection of Great Britain to the freedom and happi- 
 ness of their country, forthwith to withdraw themselves and fami- 
 lies within the enemy's lines. All who should neglect or refuse to 
 comply with this order were to be considered adherents to the 
 crown, and treated as common enemies. 
 
 The small-pox, which had been fatally prevalent in the preced- 
 ing year, had again broken out, and Washington feared it might 
 ' spread through the whole army. He took advantage of the inter- 
 
1777-] CONTEST OF GENERALS AND ARMIES. 299 
 
 val of comparative quiet to have his troops inoculated. Houses 
 were set apart in various places as hospitals for inoculation, and a 
 church was appropriated for the use of those who had taken the 
 malady in the natural way. Among these the ravages were fright- 
 ful. The traditions of the place and neighborhood give lamenta- 
 ble pictures of the distress caused by this loathsome disease in the 
 camp and in the villages, wherever it had not been parried by 
 inoculation. "Washington," we are told, " was not an unmoved 
 spectator of the griefs around him, and might be seen in Hanover 
 and in Lowantica Valley, cheering the faith and inspiring the cour- 
 age of his suffering men." It was this paternal care and sym- 
 pathy which attached his troops personally to him. They saw that 
 he regarded them, not with the eye of a general, but of a patriot, 
 whose heart yearned toward them as countrymen suffering in one 
 common cause. A striking contrast was offered throughout the 
 winter and spring, between the rival commanders, Howe at New 
 York, and Washington at Morristown. Howe was a soldier by 
 profession. War, with him, was a career. The camp was, for 
 the time, country and home. Easy and indolent by nature, of 
 convivial and luxurious habits, and somewhat addicted to gaming, 
 he found himself in good quarters at New York, and was in no 
 hurry to leave them. The tories rallied around him. The British 
 merchants residing there regarded him with profound devotioru 
 His officers, too, many of them young men of rank and fortune, 
 gave a gayety and brilliancy to the place ; and the wealthy royal- 
 ists forgot in a round of dinners, balls and assemblies, the hysteri- 
 cal alarms they had once experienced under the military sway of 
 Lee. Washington, on the contrary, was a patriot soldier, grave, 
 earnest, thoughtful, self-sacrificing. War, to him, was a painful 
 remedy, hateful in itself, but adopted for a great national good. 
 To the prosecution of it, all his pleasures, his comforts, his natural 
 inclinations and private interests were sacrificed; and his chosen offi- 
 cers were earnest and anxious hke himself, with their whole thoughts 
 directed to the success of the magnanimous struggle in which chey 
 were engaged. So, too, the armies were contrasted. The British 
 troops, many of them, perchance, slightly metamorphosed from 
 vagabonds into soldiers, all mere men of the sword, were well clad, 
 well housed, and surrounded by all the conveniences of a thor- 
 oughly appointed army with a " rebel country" to forage. The 
 American troops for the most part were mere yeomanry, taken 
 from their rural homes ; ill-sheltered, ill-clad, ill-fed and ill-paid, 
 with nothing to reconcile them to their hardships but love for 
 the soil they were defending, and the inspiring thought that it was 
 their country. Washington, with paternal care, endeavored to 
 protect them from the depraving influences of the camp. "Let 
 vice and immorality of every kind be discouraged as much as 
 possible in your brigade," writes he in a circular to his brigadier- 
 generals ; " and, as a chaplain is allowed to each regiment, see 
 that the men regularly attend divine worship. Gaming of every 
 kind is expressly forbidden, as being the foundation of evil, and 
 the cause of many a brave and gallant officer's ruin." 
 
300 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 A cartel for the exchange of prisoners had been a subject of 
 negotiation previous to the affair of Trenton, without being adjusted. 
 The British commanders were slow to recognize the claims to 
 equality of those they considered rebels ; Washington was tena- 
 cious in holding them up as patriots ennobled by their cause. 
 Among the cases which came up for attention was that of Ethan 
 Allen, the brave, but eccentric captor of Ticonderoga. His daring 
 attempts in the "path of renown" had cost him a world of hard- 
 ships. Thrown into irons as a felon ; threatened with a halter ; 
 carried to England to be tried for treason ; confined in Pendennis 
 Castle ; retransported to Halifax, and now a prisoner in New 
 York. *' I have suffered everything short of death," writes he to 
 the Assembly of his native State, Connecticut. He had, however, 
 recovered health and suppleness of limb, and with them all his 
 swelling spirit and swelHng rhetoric. "I am fired," writes he, 
 •• with adequate indignation to revenge both my own and my 
 country's wrongs. Provided you can hit upon some measure to 
 procure my liberty, I will appropriate my remaining days, and 
 freely hazard my life in the service of the colony, and maintaining 
 the American Empire. I thought to have enrolled my name in 
 the list of illustrious American heroes, but was nipped in the bud! " 
 Honest Ethan Allen ! his name will ever stand enrolled on that 
 list ; not illustrious, perhaps, but eminently popular. 
 
 Lee was now reported to be in rigorous confinement in New 
 York, and treated with harshness and indignity. The British pro- 
 fessed to consider him a deserter, he having been a lieutenant-colo- 
 nel in their service, although he alleged that he had resigned his 
 commission before joining the American army. Two letters which 
 he addressed to Gen. Howe, were returned to him unopened, 
 inclosed in a cover directed to Lieut.-Col. Lee. On the 13th of 
 January, Washington addressed the following letter to Sir William 
 Howe. " I am directed by Congress to propose an exchange of 
 five of the Hessian field-officers taken at Trenton for Major-Gen- 
 eral Lee ; or if this proposal should not be accepted, to demand 
 his liberty upon parole, within certain bounds, as has ever been 
 granted to your officers in our custody. I give you warning that 
 Major-General Lee is looked upon as an officer belonging to, and 
 under the protection of the United Independent States of America, 
 and that any violence you may commit upon his life and liberty, 
 will be severely retaliated upon the lives or liberties of the British 
 officers, or those of their foreign allies in our hands." In this let- 
 ter he likewise adverted to the treatment of American prisoners in 
 New York ; several who had recently been released having given 
 the most shocking account of the barbarities they had experienced, 
 "which their miserable, emaciated countenances confirmed." — " I 
 would beg," added he, "that some certain rule of conduct toward 
 prisoners may be settled ; and, if you are determined to make 
 captivity as distressing as possible, let me know it, that we may be 
 upon equal terms, for your conduct shall regulate mine." Sir 
 WilHam, in reply, proposed to send an officer of rank to Washing- 
 ton, to confer upon a mode of exchange and subsistence of prison- 
 
 I 
 
1 777.] TREA TMENT OF AMERICAN PRISONERS, 301 
 
 ers. This led to the appointment of two officers for the purpose ; 
 Col. Walcott by Gen. Howe, and Col. Harrison, "the old secre- 
 tary," by Washington. In the contemplated exchanges was that 
 of one of the Hessian tield-officers for Col. Ethan Allen. 
 
 Congress, in the meantime, had resorted to their threatened 
 measure of retaliation. On the 20th of February, they had resolved 
 that the Board of War be directed immediately to order the five 
 Hessian field-officers and Lieut. -Col. Campbell into safe and close 
 custody, ** it being the unalterable resolution of Congress to retal- 
 iate on them the same punishment as may be inflicted on the per- 
 son of Gen. Lee." The captive Americans who had been in the 
 naval service were said to be confined, officers and men, in prison- 
 ships, which, from their loathsome condition, and the horrors and 
 sufferings of all kinds experienced on board of them, had acquired 
 the appellation oifioating hells. Those who had been in the land 
 service, were crowded into jails and dungeons like the vilest male- 
 factors, and were represented as pining in cold, in filth, in hunger 
 and nakedness. According to popular account, the prisoners con- 
 fined on shipboard, and on shore, were perishing by hundreds. 
 A statement made by a Capt. Gamble, recently confined onboard 
 of a prison-ship, had especially roused the ire of Congress, and by 
 their directions Washington wrote to Lord Howe on the subject of 
 the "cruel treatment which our officers and men in the naval 
 department, who are unhappy enough to fall into your hands, 
 receive on board the prison-ships in the harbor of New York." " I 
 will not suppose that you are privy to proceedings of so cruel and 
 unjustifiable a nature; and I hope that the unhappy persons whose 
 lot is captivity, may not in future have the miseries of cold, disease, 
 and famine, added to their other misfortunes. My injured coun- 
 trymen have long called upon me to endeavor to obtain a redress 
 of their grievances, and I should think myself as culpable as those 
 who inflict such severities upon them were I to continue silent." 
 Lord Howe, in reply (Jan. 17), expressed himself surprised at the 
 matter and language of Washington's letter "so different from the 
 liberal vein of sentiment he had been habituated to expect on every 
 occasion of personal intercourse or correspondence with him." 
 He denied that prisoners were ill treated in his particular depart- 
 ment (the naval). They had the same provisions in quality and 
 quantity that were furnished to the seamen of his own ship, etc. The 
 y^rsey Prison-ship is proverbial in our revolutionary histoiy ; and 
 the bones of the unfortunate patriots who perished on board, form 
 a monument on the Long Island shore. The horrors of the Sugar 
 House converted into a prison, are traditional in New York ; and 
 the brutal tyranny of Cunningham, the provost marshal, over men 
 of worth confined in the common jail, for the sin of patriotism, has 
 been handed down from generation to generation. That Lord 
 Howe and Sir William were ignorant of the extent of these atroci- 
 ties we really believe, but it was their duty to be well informed. 
 War is, at best, a cruel trade, that habituates those who follow it 
 to regard the sufferings of others with indifference. There is not 
 a doubt, too, that a feeling of contumely deprived the patriot pris- 
 
302 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 oners of all sympathy in the early stages of the Revolulion. They 
 were regarded as criminals rather than captives. The stigma of 
 rebels seemed to take from them all the indulgences, scanty and 
 miserable as they are, usually granted to prisoners of war. The 
 British officers looked down with haughty contempt upon the 
 American officers who had fallen into their hands. The British 
 soldiery treated them with insolent scurrility. It seemed as if the 
 very ties of consanguinity rendered their hostility more intolerant, 
 for it was observed that American prisoners were better treated by 
 the Hessians than by the British. It Avas not until our countrymen 
 had made themselves formidable by their successes that they were 
 treated, when prisoners, with common decency and humanity. 
 The difficulties arising out of the case of Gen. Lee interrupted the 
 operations with regard to the exchange of prisoners ; and gallant 
 men, on both sides, suffered prolonged detention in consequence ; 
 and among the number the brave, but ill-starred Ethan Allen. 
 Events, however, had diminished Lee's importance in the eyes of 
 the enemy ; he was no longer considered the American palladium. 
 *' As the capture of the Hessians and the maneuvers against tlie 
 British took place after the surprise of Gen. Lee," observes a Lon- 
 don writer of the day, "we find that he is not the only efficient 
 officer in the American service." 
 
 Notwithstanding all Washington's exertions in behalf of the 
 army under his immediate command, it continued to be deplora- 
 bly in want of reinforcements, and it Avas necessary to maintain 
 the utmost vigilance at all his posts to prevent his camp from being 
 surprised. The designs of the enemy being mere matter of con- 
 jecture, measures varied accordingly. As the season advanced, 
 Washington Avas led to believe that Philadelphia Avould be their 
 first object at the opening of the campaign, and that they would 
 bring round all their troops from Canada by Avater to aid in the 
 enterprise. On the i8th of March he dispatched Gen. Greene to 
 Philadelphia, to lay before Congress such matters as he could not 
 venture to communicate by letter. Greene had scarce departed 
 when the enemy began to give signs of life. The delay in the 
 arrival of artillery, more than his natural indolence, had kept Gen. 
 Howe from formally taking the field ; he now made preparations 
 for the next campaign by detaching troops to destroy the Ameri- 
 can deposits of military stores. One of the chief of these was at 
 Peekskill, where Washington had directed Heath to send troops 
 from Massachusetts ; and which he thought of making a central 
 point of assemblage. Howe terms it "the port of that rough and 
 mountainous tract called the Manor of Courtlandt." Brig. -Gen. 
 McDougall had the command of it in the absence of Gen. Heath, 
 but his force did not exceed tAvo hundred and fifty men. As soon 
 as the Hudson Avas clear of ice, a squadron of vessels of war and 
 transports, Avith five hundred troops under Col. Bird, ascended 
 the river. McDougall had intelligence of the intended attack, and 
 Avhile the ships were making their Avay across the Tappan Sea and 
 Haverstraw Bay, exerted himself to remove as much as possible 
 of the provisions and stores to Forts Montgomery and Constitution 
 
1777] SCHUYLER AND GATES. 303 
 
 ill the Highlands. On the morning of the 23d, the whole squadron 
 came to anchor in Peekskill Bay ; and five hundred men landed in 
 Lent's Cove, on the south side of the bay, whence they pushed 
 forward with four light field-pieces drawn by sailors. On their 
 approach, McDougalT set fire to the barracks and principal store- 
 houses, and retreated about two miles to a strong post, command- 
 ing the entrance to the Highlands, and the road to Continental 
 Village, the place of the deposits. It was the post which had been 
 noted by Washington in the preceding year, where a small force 
 could make a stand, and hurl down masses of rock on their assail- 
 ants. Hence McDougall sent an express to Lieut-Col. Marinus 
 Willet, who had charge of Fort Constitution, to hasten to his 
 assistance. The British, finding the wharf in flames where they 
 had intended to embark their spoils, completed the conflagration, 
 besides destroying several small craft laden with provisions. They 
 kept possession of the place until the following day, when a scout- 
 ing party, which had advanced toward the entrance of the High- 
 lands, was encountered by Col. Marinus Willet with a detachment 
 from Fort Constitution, and driven back to the main body after 
 a sharp skiraiish, in which nine of the marauders were killed. 
 Four more were slain on the banks of Canopas Creek as they were 
 setting fire to some boats. The enemy were disappointed in the 
 hope of carrying off a great deal of booty, and finding the country 
 around was getting under arms, they contented themselves with 
 the mischief they had done, and reembarked in the evening by 
 moonlight, when the whole squadron swept down the Hudson. 
 
 The question of command between Schuyler and Gates, when 
 settled as we have shown by Congress, had caused no interruption 
 to the harmony of intercourse between these generals, Schuyler 
 directed the affairs of the department with energy and activity 
 from his headquarters at Albany, where they had been fixed by 
 Congress, while Gates, subordinate to him, commanded the post 
 of Ticonderoga, The disappointment of an independent com- 
 mand, however, still rankled in his mind, and was kept alive by the 
 officious suggestions of meddling friends. In the course of the 
 autumn, his hopes in this respect revived. Schuyler was again 
 disgusted with the service. In the discharge of his various and 
 harassing duties, he had been annoyed by sectional jealousies and 
 ill will. His motives and measures had been maligned. The 
 failures in Canada had been attributed to him, and he had repeat- 
 edly entreated Congress to order an inquiry into the many charges 
 made against him, "that he might not any longer be insulted." 
 On the 14th of Sept. he actually offered his resignation of his com- 
 mission as major-general, and of every other office and appoint- 
 ment ; still claiming a court of inquiry on his conduct, and expres- 
 sing his determination to ful'fill the duties of a good citizen, and 
 promote the weal of his native country, but in some other capacity. 
 "I trust," writes he, "that my successor, whoever he may be, 
 will find that matters are as prosperously arranged in this depart- 
 ment as the nature of the service will admit. I shall most readily 
 giv« him any information and assistance in my power." 
 
304 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 The hopes of Gates, inspired by this profTfered resignation, were 
 doomed to be again overclouded. Schuyler was informed by 
 President Hancock, "that Congress, during the present state of 
 affairs, could not consent to accept of his resignation ; but requested 
 that he would continue in the command he held, and be assured 
 that the aspersions thrown out by his enemies against his charac- 
 ter had no influence upon the minds of the members of that House ; 
 and that more effectually to put calumny to silence, they would at 
 an early day appoint a committee to inquire fully into his conduct, 
 which they trusted would establish his reputation in the opinion of 
 all good men." 
 
 The fame of the American struggle for independence was bring- 
 ing foreign officers as candidates for admission into the patriot 
 army, and causing great embarrassment to the commander-in- 
 chief. "They seldom," writes Washington, "bring more than a 
 commission and a passport ; which we know may belong to a bad 
 as well as a good officer. Their ignorance of our language, and 
 their inability to recruit men, are insurmountable obstacles to their 
 being engrafted in our Continental battalions ; for our officers, who 
 have raised their men, and have served through the war upon pay 
 that has not hitherto borne their expenses, would be disgusted if 
 foreigners were put over their head ; and I assure you, few or none 
 of these gentlemen look lower than field-officers' commissions. 
 Congress determined that no foreign officers should receive com- 
 missions who were not well acquainted with the English language, 
 and did not bring strong testimonials of their abilities ; that their 
 commissions should bear date on the day of their being filled up by 
 Washington. 
 
 The gallant, generous-spirited, Thaddeus Kosciuszko, was a Pole, 
 of an ancient and noble family of Lithuania, and had been educa- 
 ted for the profession of arms at the military school at W^arsaw, 
 and subsequently in France. Disappointed in a love affair with a 
 beautiful lady of rank with whom he had attempted to elope, he 
 had emigrated to this country, and came provided with a letter 
 of introduction from Dr. Franldin to Washington. " What do you 
 seek here?" inquired the commander-in-chief. "To fight for 
 American independence." " What can you do?" "Try me." 
 Washington was pleased with the curt, yet comprehensive reply, 
 and with his chivalrous air and spirit, and at once received him 
 into his family as an aide-de-camp. Congress shortly afterward 
 appointed him an engineer, with the rank of colonel. He proved 
 a valuable officer throughout the Revolution, and won an honora- 
 ble and lasting name in our country. 
 
 In recent army promotions, Congress had advanced Stirling, 
 Mifflin, St. Clair, Stephen, and Lincoln to the rank of major-gen- 
 eral, while Arnold, their senior in service, and distinguished by so 
 many brilliant exploits, was passed over and left to remain a brig- 
 adier. Washington was surprised at not seeing his name on the 
 list, but supposing it might have been omitted through mistake, he 
 wrote to Arnold, who was at Providence, Rhode Island, advising 
 liim not to take any hasty step in consequence, promising his own 
 
I777-] EXPEDITION AGAINST DANBUR K 305 
 
 endeavors to remedy any error that might have been made. An 
 opportunity occurred before long, for Arnold again to signalize 
 himself. The amount of stores destroyed at Peekskill had fallen 
 far short of Howe's expectations. Something more must be 
 done to cripple the Americans before the opening of the campaign. 
 Accordingly, another expedition was set on foot against a still 
 larger deposit at Danbury, within the borders of Connecticut, and 
 between twenty and thirty miles from Peekskill. Ex-Gov. Tryon, 
 recently commissioned major-general of provincials, conducted it, 
 accompanied by Brig.-Gen. Agnew and Sir William Erskine, He 
 had a mongrel force two thousand strong : American, Irish, and Brit- 
 ish refugees from various parts of the continent; and made his 
 appearance on the Sound in the latter part of April, with a fleet of 
 twenty-six sail, greatly to the disquiet of every assailable place 
 along the coast. On the 25th, toward evening, he landed his 
 troops on the beach at the foot of Canepo Hill, near the mouth of 
 the Saugatuck River. The yeomanry of the neighborhood had 
 assembled to resist them, but a few cannon shot made them 
 give way, and the troops set off for Danbury, about twenty-three 
 miles distant ; galled at first by a scattering fire from behind a 
 stone fence. They were in a patriotic neighborhood. Gen. Silli- 
 man, of the Connecticut militia, who resided at Fairfield, a few 
 miles distant, sent out expresses to rouse the country. It so hap- 
 pened that Gen. Arnold was at New Haven, between twenty and 
 thirty miles off, on his way to Philadelphia for the purpose of set- 
 tling his accounts. At the alarm of a British inroad, he forgot his 
 injuries and irritation, mounted his horse, and, accompanied by 
 Gen. Wooster, hastened to join Gen. Silliman. As they spun'ed 
 forward, every farm house sent out its warrior, until upward of a 
 hundred were pressing on with them, full of the fighting spirit. 
 Lieut. Oswald, Arnold's secretary in the Canada campaign, who 
 had led the forlorn hope in the attempt upon Quebec, was at this 
 time at New Haven, enlisting men for Lamb's regiment of artil- 
 lery. He, too, heard the note of alarm, and mustering his recruits, 
 marched oft'" with three field-pieces for the scene of action. In the 
 meanwhile the British, marching all night with short baitings, 
 reached Danbury about two o'clock in the afternoon of the 26th. 
 There were but fifty Continental soldiers and one hundred militia 
 in the place. These retreated, as did most of the inhabitants, 
 excepting such as remained to take care of the sick and aged. 
 Four men, intoxicated, as it was said, fired upon the troops from 
 the windows of a large house. The soldiers rushed in, drove them 
 into the cellar, set fire to the house, and left them to perish in the 
 flames. There was a great quantity of stores of all kinds in the 
 village, and no vehicles to convey them to the ships. The work 
 of destruction commenced. The soldiers made free with the liquors 
 found in abundance ; and throughout the greater part of the night 
 there was revel, drunkenness, blasphemy, and devastation. 
 Tryon, full of anxiety, and aware that the country was rising, 
 ordered a retreat before daylight, setting fire to the magazines to 
 complete the destruction of the stores. The flames spread to the 
 
3o6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 other edifices, and almost the whole village was soon in a blaze. 
 The extreme darkness of a rainy night made the conflagration 
 more balefuUy apparent throughout the country. Meanwhile the 
 Connecticut yeomanry had been gathering. Fairfield and the 
 adjacent counties had poured out their minute men. Gen. Silli- 
 man had advanced at the head of five hundred. Gens. Wooster 
 and Arnold joined him with their chance followers, as did a few 
 more militia. A heavy rain retarded their march ; it was near 
 midnight when they reached Bethel, within four miles of Danbury. 
 Here they halted, to take a httle repose and put their arms in order, 
 rendered almost unserviceable by the rain. They were now about 
 six hundred strong. Wooster took the command, as first major- 
 general of the militia of the State. Though in the sixty-eighth 
 year of his age, he was full of ardor, with almost youthful fire and 
 daring. A plan was concerted to punish the enemy on their 
 retreat ; and the lurid light of Danbury in flames redoubled the 
 provocation. At dawn of day, Wooster detached Arnold with four 
 hundred men, to push across the country and take post at Ridge- 
 field, by which the British must pass ; while he with two hundred 
 remained, to hang on and harass them in flank and rear. The 
 British began their retreat early in the morning, conducting it in 
 the regular style, with flanking parties, and a rear guard well fur- 
 nished with artillery. As soon as they had passed his position, 
 Wooster attacked the rear-guard with great spirit and effect ; there 
 "was sharp skirmishing until within two miles of Ridgefield, when, 
 as the veteran was cheering on his men, who began to waver, a 
 musket ball brought him down from his horse, and finished his 
 gallant career. On his fall his men retreated in disorder. The 
 delay which his attack had occasioned to the enemy, had given 
 Arnold time to throw up a kind of breastwork or barricade across 
 the road at the north end of Ridgefield, protected by a house on 
 the right, and a high rocky bank on the left, where he took his 
 stand with his little force now increased to about five hundred 
 men. About eleven o'clock the enemy advanced in column, with 
 artillery and flanking parties. They were kept at bay for a time, 
 and received several volleys from the barricade, until it was out- 
 flanked and carried. Arnold ordered a retreat, and was bringing 
 off the rear-guard, when his horse was shot under him, and came 
 down upon his knees. Arnold remained seated in the saddle, 
 with one foot entangled in the stirrup. A tory soldier, seeing his 
 plight, rushed toward him with fixed bayonet. He had just time 
 to draw a pistol' from the holster. "You're my prisoner," cried 
 the tory. "Not yet!" exclaimed Arnold, and shot him dead. 
 Then extricating his foot from the stirrup, he threw himself into 
 the thickets of a neighboring swamp, and escaped, unharmed by 
 the bullets that whistled after him, and joined his retreating troops. 
 Gen. Tryon intrenched for the night in Ridgefield, his troops having 
 suffered greatly in their harassed retreat. The next morning, 
 after having set fire to four houses, he continued his march for the 
 ships. Col. Huntingdon, of the Continental army, with the troops 
 which had been stationed at Danburv, the scattered forces of 
 
1777'] COL, MEIGS SURPRISES SAG HARBOR. 307 
 
 Wooster which had joined him, and a number of militia, hung on 
 the rear of the enemy as soon as they were in motion. Arnold 
 was again in the field, with his rallied forces, strengthened by 
 Lieut. -Col. Oswald with two companies of Lamb's artillery regi- 
 ment and three field-pieces. With these he again posted himself 
 on the enemy's route. Difficulties and annoyances had multiplied 
 upon the latter at every step. When they came in sight of the 
 position where Arnold was waiting for them they changed their 
 route, wheeled to the left, and made for a ford of Saugatuck River. 
 Arnold hastened to cross the bridge and take them in flank, but 
 they were too quick for him. Col. Lamb had now reached the 
 scene of action, as had about two hundred volunteers. Leaving 
 to Oswald the charge of the artillery, he put himself at the head 
 of the volunteers, and led them up to Arnold's assistance. 
 The enemy, finding themselves hard- pressed, pushed for Canepo 
 Hill. They reached it in the evening, without a round of ammuni- 
 tion in their cartridge-boxes. As they were now within cannon 
 shot of their ships, the Americans ceased the pursuit. The British 
 formed upon the high ground, brought their artillery to the front, 
 and sent off to the ships for reinforcements. Sir William Erskine 
 landed a large body of marines and sailors, who drove the Ameri- 
 cans back for some distance, and covered the embarkation of the 
 troops. Col. Lamb, while leading on his men gallantly to capture 
 the British field-piece^, was wounded by a grape-shot, and Arnold, 
 while cheering on the militia, had another horse shot under him. 
 In the meantime, the harassed marauders effected their embarka- 
 tion, and the fleet got under way. In this inroad the enemy 
 destroyed a considerable amount of military stores, and seventeen 
 hundred tents prepared for the use of Washington's army in the 
 ensuing campaign. The loss of Gen. Wooster was deeply deplored. 
 He survived the action long enough to be consoled in his dying 
 moments at Danbury, by the presence of his wife and son, who 
 hastened thither from New Haven. As to Arnold, his gallantry in 
 this affair gained him fresh laurels, and Congress, to remedy their 
 late error, promoted him to the rank of major-general. Still this pro- 
 motion did not restore him to his proper position. He was at the 
 bottom of the list of major-generals, with four officers above him, 
 his juniors in service. Washington felt this injustice on the part of 
 Congress, and wrote about it to the president. " He has certainly 
 discovered," said he, " in every instance where he has had an 
 opportunity, much bravery, activity, and enterprise." As an 
 additional balm to Arnold's wounded pride, Congress a few days 
 afterward voted that a horse, properly caparisoned, should be pre- 
 sented to him in their name, as a token of their approbation of his 
 gallant conduct in the late action, " in which he had one horse 
 shot under him and another wounded." 
 
 The destructive expeditions against the American depots of mili- 
 tary stores, were retaliated in kind by Col. Meigs, a spirited officer, 
 who had accompanied Arnold in his expedition through the wil- 
 derness against Quebec, and had caught something of his love for 
 iardy exploit. Having received intelligence that the British com- 
 
3o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 missaries had collected a great amount of grain, forage and other 
 supplies at Sag Harbor, a small port in the deep bay which forks 
 the east end of Long Island, he crossed the Sound on the 23rd of 
 May from Guilford in Connecticut, with about one hundred and 
 seventy men in whale-boats convoyed by two armed sloops ; 
 landed on the island near Southold ; carried the boats a distance 
 of fifteen miles across the north fork of the bay, launched them 
 into the latter, crossed it, landed within four miles of Sag Harbor, 
 and before daybreak carried the place, which was guarded by a 
 company of foot. A furious fire of round and grape-shot was 
 opened upon the Americans from an armed schooner, anchored 
 al30ut one hundred and fifty yards from shore ; and stout defence 
 was made by the crews of a dozen brigs and sloops lying at the 
 wharf to take in freight ; but Meigs succeeded in burning these 
 vessels, destroying everything on shore, and carrying off ninety 
 prisoners ; among whom were the officer of the company of foot, 
 tlie commissaries, and the captains of most of the small vessels. 
 With these he and liis party recrossed the bay, transported their 
 boats again across the fork of land, launched them on the Sound, 
 and got safe back to Guilford ; having achieved all this, and tra- 
 versed about ninety miles of land and water, in twenty-five hours. 
 Washington was highly pleased with the spirit and success of this 
 enterprise, and he publicly returned thanks to Col. Meigs and the 
 officers and men engaged in it. It could not fail, he said, greatly 
 to distress the enemy in the important and essential article of for- 
 age. But it was the moral effect of the enterprise which gave it 
 the most value. It cheered the spirit of the people ; depressed by 
 overshadowing dangers and severe privations, and kept alive the^ 
 mihtary spark that was to kindle into the future flame. 
 
 The Highland passes of the Hudson, always objects of anxious 
 thought to Washington, were especially so at this juncture. Gen, 
 McDougall still commanded at Peekskill, and Gen. George Chn- 
 ton, who resided at New Windsor, had command of the Highland 
 forts. The latter, at the earnest request of the New York Conven- 
 tion, had received from Congress the command of brigadier-general 
 in the Continental army. He was one of the soldiers of the Revo- 
 lution who served from a sense of duty, not from military inclina- 
 tion or a thirst for glory. A long career of public service in vari- 
 ous capacities illustrated his modest worth and devoted patriotism. 
 A fev/ days later came word that several transports were anchored 
 at Dobb's Ferry in the Tappan Sea. Washington ordered Clin- 
 ton to post as good a number of troops from his garrison as he 
 could spare, on the mountains west of the river. On the 12th of 
 May, Gen. Greene received instructions from Washington to pro- 
 ceed to the Highlands, and examine the state and condition of the 
 forts, especially Fort Montgomery ; the probability of an attack by 
 water, the practicability of an approach by land ; where and how 
 this could be effected, and the eminences whence the forts could 
 be annoyed. When reconnoitering the Highlands in the preced- 
 ing year, Washington had remarked a wild and rugged pass on 
 the western side of the Hudson round Bull Hill, a rocky, forestclad 
 
1777-] DEFENCES OF THE HUDSON. 309 
 
 mountain, forming an advance rampart at the entrance to Peeks- 
 kill Bay. "This pass," he observed, "should also be attended 
 to, lest the enemy by ^ coup de main should possess themselves of 
 it, before a sufficient force could be asse?nbled to oppose them." 
 Gen. Knox was associated with Gen. Greene in this visit of inspec- 
 tion. They examined the river and the passes of the Highlands in 
 company with Gens. McDougall, George Clinton, and Anthony 
 Wayne. The latter, recently promoted to the rank of brigadier, 
 had just returned from Ticonderoga. The five generals made a 
 joint report to Washington, in which they recommended the com- 
 pletion of the obstructions in the river already commenced. These 
 consisted of a boom, or heavy iron chain, across the river from 
 Fort Montgomery to Anthony's Nose, with cables stretched in 
 front to break the force of any ship under way, before she could 
 strike it The boom was to be protected by the guns of two ships 
 and two row galleys stationed just above it, and by batteries on 
 shore. 
 
 The general command of the Hudson, from the number of 
 troops to be assembled there, and the variety of points to be 
 guarded, was one of the most important in the service, and required 
 an officer of consummate energy, activity and judgment. It was 
 a major-general's command, and as such was offered by Wash- 
 ington to Arnold ; intending thus publicly to manifest his opinion 
 of his deserts, and hoping, by giving him so important a post, to 
 appease his irritated feelings. The command being dechned by 
 Arnold, was now given to Putnam, who repaired forthwith to 
 Peekskill. Gen. McDougall was requested by Washington to aid 
 the veteran in gaining a knowledge of the post. "You are well 
 acquainted," writes he, "with the old gentleman's temper; he is 
 active, disinterested, and open to conviction." Putnam set about 
 promptly to carry into effect the measures of security which Greene 
 and Knox had recommended ; especially the boom and chain at 
 Fort Montgomery. 
 
 Toward the end of May Washington broke up his cantonments 
 at Morristown and shifted his camp to Middlebrook, within ten 
 miles of Brunswick. His whole force fit for duty was now about 
 seven thousand three hundred men, all from the States south of 
 the Hudson. There were forty-three regiments, forming ten brig- 
 ades, commanded by Brigadiers Muhlenberg, Weedon, Woodford. 
 Scott, Smallwood, Deborre, Wayne, Dehaas, Conway and Max- 
 well. These were apportioned into five divisions of two brigades 
 each under Major-Generals Greene, Stephen, Sullivan, Lincoln and 
 Stirhng. The artillery was commanded by Knox. Sulhvan, with . 
 his division, was stationed on the right at Princeton. With the 
 rest of his force Washington fortified himself in a position naturally 
 strong, among hills, in the rear of the village of Middlebrook. His 
 camp was, on all sides, difficult of approach, and he rendered it 
 still more so by intrenchments. The high grounds about it com- 
 manded a wide view of the country around Brunswick, the road to 
 Philadelphia, and the course of the Raritan, so that the enemy 
 could make no important movement on land, without his jerceiv- 
 
7IO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ing it. It was now the beautiful season of the year, and the troops 
 from their height beheld a fertile and well cultivated country 
 spread before them, "painted with meadows, green fields and 
 orchards, studded with villages, and affording abundant supplies 
 and forage." A part of their duty was to guard it from the ravage 
 of the enemy, while they held themselves ready to counteract his 
 movements in every direction. On the 31st of May, reports were 
 brought to camp that a fleet of a hundred sail had left New York, 
 and stood out to sea. Whither bound, and how freighted, was 
 unknown. If they carried troops, their destination might be Del- 
 aware Bay. Eighteen transports, also, had arrived at New York, 
 with troops in foreign uniforms. These proved to be Anspachers, 
 and other German mercenaries ; there were British reinforcements 
 also ; and, what was particularly needed, a supply of tents and 
 camp equipage. Sir William Howe had been waiting for the lat- 
 ter, and hkewise until the ground should be covered with grass. 
 Early in June, therefore, he gave up ease and gayety, and luxu- 
 rious life at New York, and crossing into the Jerseys, set up his 
 headquarters at Brunswick. 
 
 Arnold, in this critical juncture, had been put in command of 
 Philadelphia, a post which he had been induced to accept, although 
 the question of rank had not been adjusted to his satisfaction. On 
 the night of the 13th of June, Gen. Howe sallied forth in great force 
 from Brunswick, as if pushing directly for the Delaware, but his 
 advanced guard halted at Somerset court-house, about eight or 
 nine miles distant. Washington drew out his army in battle 
 array along the heights, but kept quiet. In the present state of 
 his forces it was his plan not to risk a general action ; but, should 
 the enemy really march toward the Delaware, to hang heavily 
 upon their rear. Their principal difficulty would be in crossing that 
 river, and there, he trusted, they would meet with spirited oppo- 
 sition from the Continental troops and militia stationed on the 
 vestern side under Arnold and Mifflin. The British took up a 
 strong position, having Millstone Creek on their left, the Raritan 
 all along their front, and their right resting on Brunswick, and 
 proceeded to fortify themselves with bastions. The American and 
 British annies remained four days grimly regarding each other; 
 both waiting to be attacked. The Jersey militia, which now turned 
 out with alacrity, repaired, some to Washington's camp, others to 
 that of Sullivan. The latter had fallen back from Princeton, and 
 taken a posidon behind the Sourland Hills. Howe pushed out 
 detachments, and made several feints as if to pass by the Ameri- 
 can camp and march to the Delaware ; but Washington was not 
 to be deceived. "The enemy will not move that way," said he, 
 "until they have given this army a severe blow. The risk would 
 be roc great to attempt to cross a river where they must expect to 
 meet a formidable opposition in front, and would have such a 
 force as ours in their rear." He kept on the heights, therefore, and 
 strengthened his intrenchments. Baffled in these attempts to draw 
 his cautious adversary into a general action, Howe, on the 19th, 
 suddenly broke up his camp, and pretended to return with some 
 
1777'] THE BRITISH EVACUATE THE JERSEYS. 311 
 
 precipitation to Brunswick, burning as he went several valuable 
 dwelling houses. Washington's light troops hovered round the 
 enemy as far as the Raritan and Millstone, which secured their 
 flanks, would permit ; but the main army kept to its stronghold on 
 the heights. On the 22d, Sir William again marched out of Bruns- 
 wick, but this time proceeded toward Amboy. Washington sent 
 out three brigades under General Greene to fall upon the rear of 
 the enemy, while Morgan hung upon their skirts with his riflemen. 
 At the same time the army remained paraded on the heights ready 
 to yield support, if necessary. Findmg that Howe had actually 
 sent his heavy baggage and part of his troops overtoStaten Island 
 by a bridge of boats which he had thrown across, Washington, on 
 the 24th, left the heights and descended to Quibbletown (now New 
 Market), six or seven miles on the road to Amboy, to be nearer at 
 hand for the protection of his advanced parties ; while Lord Stirl- 
 ing, with his division and some light troops, was at Matouchin 
 church, closer to the enemy's lines, to watch their motions, and be 
 ready to harass them while crossing to the island. Howe now 
 thought he had gained his point. Recalling those who had crossed, 
 he formed his troops into two columns, the right led by Cornwallis, 
 the left by himself, and marched back rapidly by different routes 
 from Amboy. Washington, however, had timely notice of his 
 movements, and penetrating his design, regained his fortified camp 
 at Middlebrook, and secured the passes of the mountains. He 
 then detached a body of light troops under Brig. -Gen. Scott, 
 together with Morgan's riflemen, to hang on the flank of the enemy 
 and watch their motions. Cornwallis, making a considerable cir- 
 cuit to the right, dispersed the light parties of the advance, but 
 fell in with Lord Stirling's divison, strongly posted in a woody 
 country, and well covered by artillery judiciously disposed. A 
 sharp skirmish ensued, when the Americans gave way and retreated 
 to the hills, with the loss of a few men and three field-pieces ; 
 while the British halted at Westfield, disappointed in the main 
 objects of their enterprise. They remained at Westfield until the 
 afternoon of the 27th, when they moved toward Spanktown (now 
 Railway), plundering all before them, but pursued and harassed 
 the whole way by the American light troops. Perceiving that 
 every scheme of bringing the Americans to a general action, or at 
 least of withdrawing them from their strongholds, was rendered 
 abortive by the caution and prudence of Washington, and aware 
 of the madness of attempting to march to the Delaware through a 
 hostile country, with such a force in his rear. Sir William Howe 
 broke up his headquarters at Amboy on the last of June, and 
 crossed over to Staten Island on the floating bridge ; his troops 
 marched off to the old camping ground on the Bay of New York; 
 the ships got under way, and moved down round the island ; and 
 it was soon apparent, that at length the enemy had really evacua- 
 ted the Jerseys, 
 
 Scarce had the last tent been struck and the last transport disap- 
 peared from before Amboy, when intelligence arrived from Gen. 
 St. Clair, announcing the appearance of a hostile fleet on Lake 
 
312 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Champlain, and that Gen. Burgoyne with the whole Canada army- 
 was approaching Ticonderoga. The judgment and circumspec- 
 tion of Washington were never more severely put to the proof. 
 Gen. Burgoyne was a man of too much spirit and enterprise to 
 return from England merely to execute a plan from which no honor 
 was to be derived. Did he really intend to break through by the 
 way of Ticonderoga ? In that case it must be Howe's plan to coop- 
 erate with him. If so, Sir WiUiam must soon throw off the mask. 
 His next move, in such case, would be to ascend the Hudson, 
 seize on the Highland passes before Washington could form a 
 union with the troops stationed there, and thus open the way for 
 the junction with Burgoyne. Should Washington, however, on 
 such a presumption, hasten with his troops to Peekskill, leaving 
 Howe on Staten Island, what would prevent the latter from push- 
 ing to Philadelphia by South Amboy or any other route ? In this 
 dilemma he sent Gens. Parsons and Varnum with a couple of 
 brigades in all haste to Peekskill ; and wrote to Gens. George 
 Chnton and Putnam ; the former to call out the New York militia 
 from Orange and Ulster counties ; the latter to summon the militia 
 from Connecticut ; and as soon as such reinforcements should beat 
 hand, to dispatch four of the strongest Massachusetts regiments to the 
 aid of Ticonderoga ; at the same time the expediency was sugges- 
 ted to Gen. Schuyler, of having all the cattle and vehicles removed 
 from parts of the country he might think the enemy intended to 
 penetrate. Gen. Sullivan was ordered to advance with his divis- 
 ion toward the Highlands as far as Pompton, while Washington 
 moved his own camp back to Morristown, to be ready either to 
 push on to the Highlands, or fall back upon his recent position at 
 Middlebrook, according to the movements of the enemy. Desert- 
 ers from Staten Island and New York soon brought word to the 
 camp that transports were being fitted up with berths for horses, 
 and taking in three weeks' supply of water and provender. All 
 this indicated some other destination than that of the Hudson. 
 
 The energy, skill, and intelligence displayed by Hamilton 
 throughout the last year's campaign, whenever his limited com- 
 mand gave him opportunity of evincing them, had won his entrance 
 to headquarters ; where his quick discernment and precocious 
 judgment were soon fully appreciated. Strangers were surprised 
 to see a youth, scarce twenty years of age, received into the implicit 
 confidence, and admitted into the gravest counsels, of a man hke 
 Washington. While his uncommon talents thus commanded 
 respect, rarely inspired by one of his years, his juvenile appear- 
 ance and buoyant spirit made him a universal favorite. Harrison, 
 the "old secretary," much his senior, looked upon him with an 
 almost paternal eye, and regarding his diminutive size and tower- 
 ing spirit, used to call him **the little lion;" while Washington 
 would now and then speak of him by the cherishing appellation of 
 " my boy." 
 
1777-] BURGOYNE'S INVASION. 313 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BURGOYNE'S invasion from CANADA. 
 
 The armament advancing against Ticonderoga was not a mere 
 diversion, but a regular invasion ; the plan of which had been 
 devised by the king, Lord George Germain, and Gen. Burgoyne, 
 the latter having returned to England from Canada in the preced- 
 ing year. The junction of the two armies — that in Canada and 
 that under General Howe in New York — was considered the speed- 
 iest mode of quelhng the rebellion ; and as the security and good 
 government of Canada required the presence of Governor Sir Guy 
 Carleton, three thousand men were to remain there with him ; the 
 residue of the army was to be employed upon two expeditions : the 
 one under Gen. Burgoyne, who was to force his way to Albany, 
 the other under Lieut. -Col. St. Leger, who was to make a diver- 
 sion on the Mohawk River. The invading arniy was composed 
 of three thousand seven hundred and twenty -four British rank and 
 file, three thousand and sixteen GeiTnans, mostly Brunswickers, 
 two hundred and fifty Canadians, and four hundred Indians ; 
 besides these there were four hundred and seventy-three artillery 
 men, in all nearly eight thousand men. The army was admirably 
 appointed. Its brass train of artillery was extolled as perhaps the 
 finest ever allotted to an army of the size. Gen. Phillips, who 
 commanded the artillery, had. gained great reputation in the wars 
 in Germany. Brig.-Gens. Eraser, Powel, and Hamilton, were 
 also officers of distinguished merit. So was Mai. -General the 
 Baron Riedesel, a Brunswicker, who commanded the German troops. 
 While Burgoyne with the main force proceeded from St. Johns, 
 Col. St. Leger, with a detachment of regulars and Canadians about 
 seven hundred strong, was to land at Oswego and, guided by Sir 
 John Johnson at the head of his loyalist volunteers, tory refugees 
 from his former neighborhood, and a body of Indians, was to 
 enter the Mohawk country, draw the attention of Gen. Schuyler 
 in that direction, attack Fort Stanwix, and, having ravaged the 
 valley of the Mohawk, rejoin Burgoyne at Albany ; where it was 
 expected they would make a triumphant junction with the army 
 of Howe. Gen. Burgoyne left St. Johns on the i6th of June. 
 Some idea may be formed of his buoyant anticipation of a tri- 
 umphant progress through the country, by the manifold and lum- 
 bering appurtenances of a European camp with which his army 
 was encumbered. In this respect he had committed the same 
 error in his campaign through a wilderness of lakes and forests, 
 that had once embarrassed the unfortunate Braddock in his march 
 across the mountains of Virginia. On the following day Schuy- 
 ler was at Ticonderoga. The works were not in such a state of 
 forwardness as he had anticipated, owing to the tardy arrival of 
 troops, and the want of a sufficient number of artificers. Mount 
 
314 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Independence, a high circular hill on the east side of the lake, 
 immediately opposite to the old fort, was considered the most 
 defensible. A star fort with pickets crowned the summit of the 
 hill, which was table land ; half way down the side of a hill was a 
 battery, and at its foot were strongly intrenched works well mounted 
 with cannon. Here the French General de Fermois, who had 
 charge of this fort, was posted. As this part of Lake Champlain 
 is narrow, a connection was kept up between the two forts by a 
 floating bridge, supported on twenty-two sunken piers in caissons, 
 formed of very strong timber. Between the piers were separate 
 floats, fifty feet long and twelve feet wide, strongly connected by 
 iron chains and rivets. On the north side of the bridge was a 
 boom, composed of large pieces of timber, secured by riveted bolts, 
 and besides this was a double iron chain with links an ijich and a 
 half square. The bridge, boom, and chain were four hundred 
 yards in length. This immense work, the labor of months, on 
 which no expense had been spared, was intended, while it afforded 
 a communication between the two forts, to protect the upper part 
 of the lake, presenting, under cover of their guns, a barrier, which 
 it was presumed no hostile ship would be able to break through. 
 Schuyler hastened to Fort George, whence he sent on provisions 
 for upward of sixty days ; and from the banks of the Hudson addi- 
 tional carpenters and working cattle. 
 
 In the meantime, Burgoyne, with his amphibious and semi-bar- 
 barous armament, was advancing up the lake. On the 21st of 
 June he encamped at the river Boquet, several miles north of 
 Crown Point; here he gave a war feast to his savage allies, and 
 made them a speech in that pompous and half poetical vein in 
 which it is the absurd practice to address our savages, and which 
 is commonly reduced to flat prose by their interpreters. At the 
 same time he was strenuous in enjoining humanity toward prison- 
 ers, dwelling on the differences between ordinary wars carried on 
 against a common enemy, and this against a country in rebelHon, 
 where the hostile parties were of the same blood, and loyal sub- 
 jects of the crown might be confounded with the rebellious. 
 
 The garrison at Ticonderoga, meanwhile, were anxiously on the 
 look-out. Their fortress, built on a hill, commanded an exten- 
 sive prospect over the bright and beautiful lake and its surround- 
 ing forests, but there were long points and promontories at a dis- 
 tance to intercept the view. The enemy came advancing up the 
 lake on the 30th, their main body under Burgoyne on the west 
 side, the German reserve under Baron Riedesel on the east ; com- 
 munication being maintained by frigates and gunboats, which, in a 
 manner, kept pace between them. It was a magnificent array of 
 warlike means ; and the sound of drum and trumpet along the 
 shores, and now and then the thundering of a cannon from the 
 ships, were singularly in contrast with the usual silence of a region 
 little better than a wilderness. On the 1st of July, Burgoyne 
 encamped four miles north of Ticonderoga, and began to intrench, 
 and to throw a boom across the lake. His advanced guard under 
 Gen. Frascr took post at Three Mile Point, and the ships anchored 
 
17-]-]?^ TICONDEROGA INVESTED, 315. 
 
 just out of gunshot of the fort. Here he issued a proclamation 
 still more magniloquent than his speech to the Indians, denounc- 
 ing woe to all who should persist in rebellion, and laying particular 
 stress upon his means, with the aid of the Indians, to overtake the 
 the hardiest enemies of Great Britian and America wherever they 
 might lurk. 
 
 Gen. St. Clair was a gallant Scotchman, who had seen service in 
 the old French war as well as in this, and beheld the force arrayed 
 against him without dismay. It is true his garrison did not exceed 
 tliree thousand five hundred men, of whom nine hundred were militia. 
 They were badly equipped, and few had bayonets ; yet, as Major 
 Livingston reported, they were in good heart. St. Clair confided, 
 however, in the strength of his position and the works which had 
 been constructed in connection with it, and trusted he should be 
 able to resist any attempt to take it by storm. Schuyler at this 
 time was at Albany, sending up reinforcements of Continental 
 troops and militia, and awaiting the arrival of further reinforce- 
 ments, for which sloops had been sent down to Peekskill. He was 
 endeavoring also to provide for the security of the department in 
 other quarters. The savages had been scalping in the neighbor- 
 hood of Fort Schuyler ; a set of renegade Indians were harassing 
 the settlements on the Susquehanna ; and the threatenings of Brant, 
 the famous Indian chief, and the prospect of a British inroad by 
 the way of Oswego, had spread terror through Tryon County, 
 the inhabitants of which called upon him for support. On 
 the 2d of July, Indian scouts made their appearance in the 
 vicinity of a block-house and some outworks about the strait or 
 channel leading to Lake George. As Gen. St. Clair did not think 
 the garrison sufficient to defend all the outposts, these works with 
 some adjacent saw-mills were set on fire and abandoned. The 
 extreme left of Ticonderoga was weak, and might be easily turned ; 
 a post had therefore been established in the proceeding year, nearly 
 half a mile in advance of the old French lines, on an eminence 
 to the north of them. Gen. St. Clair, through singular remissness, 
 had neglected to secure it. Burgoyne soon discovered this neglect, 
 and hastened to detach Gen. Phillips and Fraser with a body of 
 infantry and light artillery, to take possession of this post. They 
 did so without opposition. Heavy guns were mounted upon it ; 
 Fraser* s whole corps was stationed there ; the post commanded the 
 communication by land and water with Lake George, so as to cut 
 off all supplies from that quarter. In fact, such were the advan- 
 tages expected from this post, thus neglected by St. Clair, that the 
 British gave it the significant name of Mount Hope. The enemy 
 now proceeded gradually to invest Ticonderoga. A line of troops 
 was drawn from the western part of Mount Hope round to Three 
 Mile Point, where Gen. Fraser was posted with the advance guard, 
 while Gen. Riedesel encamped with the German. reserve in a par- 
 allel line, on the opposite side of Lake Champlain, at the foot of 
 Mount Independence. For two days the enemy occupied them- 
 selves in making their advances and securing these positions, 
 regardless of a cannonade kept up by the American batteries. St, 
 
3i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Clair began to apprehend that a regular siege was intended, which 
 would be more difficult to withstand than a direct assault ; he 
 kept up a resolute aspect, however, and went about among his 
 troops, encouraging them with the hope of a successful resistance, 
 but enjoining incessant vigilance, and punctual attendance 
 at the alarm posts at morning and evening roll-call. With 
 all the pains and expense lavished by the Americans to ren- 
 der these works impregnable, they had strangely neglected the 
 master key by which they were all commanded. This was Sugar 
 Hill, a rugged height, the termination of a mountain ridge which 
 separates Lake Champlain from Lake George. It stood to the 
 south of Ticonderoga, beyond the narrow channel which connected 
 the two lakes, and rose precipitously from the waters of Champlain 
 to the height of six hundred feet. The British General Phillips, on 
 taking his position, had regarded the hill with a practiced eye. He 
 caused it to be reconnoitered by a skillful engineer. The report 
 was, that it overlooked, and had the entire command of Fort 
 Ticonderoga and Fort Independence ; being about fourteen hun- 
 dred yards from the former, and fifteen hundred from the latter ; 
 that the ground could be leveled for cannon, and a road cut up the 
 defiles of the mountain in four and twenty hours. While the 
 American garrisons were entirely engaged in a different direction, 
 cannonading Mount Hope and the British hnes without material 
 effect, and without provoking a reply ; the British troops were busy 
 throughout the day and night cutting a road through rocks and 
 trees and up rugged defiles. Guns, ammunition, and stores, all 
 were carried up the hill in the night ; the cannon were hauled up 
 from tree to tree, and before morning the ground was leveled for 
 the battery on which they were to be mounted. To this work, thus 
 achieved by a coup de main, they gave the name of Fort Defiance. 
 On the 5th of July, to their astonishment and consternation, the 
 garrison beheld a legion of red-coats on the summit of this hill, 
 constructing works which must soon lay the fortress at their mercy. 
 In this sudden and appalling emergency. Gen. St. Clair called a 
 council of war. \Vhat was to be done .'' The batteries,from this 
 new fort would probably be open the next day : by that time 
 Ticonderoga might be completely invested, and the whole 
 garrison exposed to capture. It was unanimously determmed 
 to evacuate both Ticonderoga and Mount Independence that 
 very night, and retreat to Skenesborough (now Whitehall), at 
 the upper part of the lake, about thirty miles distant, where there 
 was a stockaded fort. The main body of the army, led by Gen. 
 St. Clair, were to cross to Mount Independence and push for 
 Skenesborough by land, taking a circuitous route through the 
 woods on the east side of the lake, by the way of Castleton. It 
 was now three o'clock in the afternoon; yet all the preparations 
 were to be made for the coming night, and that with as little bustle 
 and movement as possible ; for they were overlooked by Fort 
 Defiance, and their intentions might be suspected. Everything, 
 therefore, was done quietly, but alertly ; in the meantime, to amuse 
 the enemy, a cannonade was kept up every half hour toward the 
 
1 7 77 • J THE BRITISH IN PURSUIT. 3 1 7 
 
 new battery on the hill. As soon as the evening closed, and their 
 movements could not be discovered, they began in all haste to load 
 the boats. Such of the cannon as could not be taken were ordered 
 to be spiked. It would not do to knock off their trunnions, lest the 
 noise should awaken suspicions. In the hurry several were left 
 uninjured. The lights in the garrison being previously extinguished, 
 their tents were struck and put on board of the boats, and the 
 women and the sick embarked. Everything was conducted with 
 such silence and address, that, although it was a moonlight night, 
 the flotilla departed undiscovered ; and was soon under the shad- 
 ows of mountains and overhanging forests. The retreat by land 
 was not conducted with equal discretion and mystery. Gen. St. 
 Clair had crossed over the bridge to the Vermont side of the lake 
 by three o'clock in the morning, and set forward with his advance 
 through the woods toward Hubbardton ; but, before the rear-guard 
 under Col. Francis got in motion, the house at Fort Independence, 
 which had been occupied by the French General de Fermois, was 
 set on fire. The consequences were disastrous. The British sen- 
 tries at Mount Hope were astonished by a conflagration suddenly 
 lighting up Mount Independence, and revealing the American 
 troops in full retreat ; for the rear-guard, disconcerted by this sud*- 
 den exposure, pressed forward for the woods in the utmost haste 
 and confusion. The drums beat to arms in the British camp. 
 Alarm guns were fired from Mount Hope: Gen. Fraser dashed \nto 
 Ticonderoga with his pickets, giving orders for his brigade to arm 
 in all haste and follow. By daybreak he had hoisted the British 
 flag over the deserted fortress ; before sunrise he had passed the 
 bridge, and was in full pursuit of the American rear-guard. Bur- 
 goyne was roused from his morning slumbers on board of the 
 frigate Royal George, by the alarm guns from Fort Hope, and a 
 message from Gen. Fraser, announcing the double retreat of the 
 Americans by land and water. From the quarter-deck of the 
 frigate he soon had confirmation of the news. The British colors 
 were flying on Fort Ticonderoga, and Fraser' s troops were glitter- 
 on the opposite shore. Gen. Riedesel was ordered to follow and 
 support Fraser with a part of the German troops ; garrisons were 
 thrown into Ticonderoga and Mount Independence ; the main part 
 of the army was embarked on board of the frigates and gunboats ; 
 the floating bridge with its boom and chain, which had cost months 
 to construct, was broken through by nine o'clock ; when Burgoyne 
 set out with his squadron in pursuit of the flotilla. 
 
 About three o'clock in the afternoon of the succeeding day, the 
 heavily laden bateaux arrived at Skenesborough. The disem- 
 barkation had scarcely commenced when the thundering of artil- 
 lery was heard from below. The British gunboats having pushed 
 on in advance of the frigates, had overtaken and were firing upon 
 the galleys. The latter defended themselves for a M'hile, but at 
 length two struck, and three were blown up. The fugitives from 
 them brought word that the British ships not being able to come 
 up, troops and Indians were landing from them and scrambling up 
 the hills ; intending to get in the rear of the fort and cut off all 
 
3i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 retreat. All now was consternation and confusion. The bateaux, 
 the storehouses, the fort, the mill were all set on fire, and a gen- 
 eral flight took place toward Fort Anne, about twelve miles 
 distant, which was reached by daybreak. It was a small pick- 
 eted fort, near the junction of Wood Creek and East Creek, about 
 sixteen miles from Fort Edward. Gen. Schuyler arrived at the 
 latter place on the following day. On the same day Col. Long's 
 scouts brought in word that there were British red coats approach- 
 ing. They were in fact a regiment under Lieut.-Col. Hill, detached 
 from Skenesborough by Burgoyne in pursuit of the fugitives. 
 Long sallied forth to meet them ; posting himself at a rocky defile, 
 where there was a narrow pathway along the border of Wood 
 Creek. As the enemy advanced he opened a heavy fire upon 
 them in front, while a part of his troops crossing and recrossing the 
 creek, and availing themselves of their knowledge of the ground, 
 kept up a shifting attack from the woods in flank and rear. The 
 British took post upon a high hill to their right, where they were 
 warmly besieged for nearly two hours, and, according to their own 
 account, would certainly have been forced had not some of their 
 Indian allies arrived and set up the much-dreaded war-whoop. The 
 Americans had nearly expended their ammunition, and had not 
 enough left to cope with this new enemy. They retreated, therefore, 
 to Fort Anne, set fire to the fort and pushed on to Fort Edward. 
 
 St. Clair's retreat through the woods from Mount Independence 
 continued the first day until night, when he arrived at Castleton, 
 thirty miles from Ticonderoga. His rear-guard halted about six 
 miles short, at Hubbardton, to await the arrival of stragglers. It 
 was composed of three regiments, under Colonels Seth Warner, 
 Francis and Hale ; in all about thirteen hundred men. Early the 
 next morning while they were taking their breakfast, they were 
 startled by the report of fire-arms. Their sentries had discharged 
 their muskets, and came running in with word that the enemy were 
 at hand. It was Gen. Eraser, with his advance of eight hundred 
 and fifty men, who had pressed forward in the latter part of the 
 night, and now attacked the Americans, who met the British with 
 great spirit; but at the very commencement of the action. Col. 
 Hale, with a detachment placed under his command to protect the 
 rear, gave way, leaving Warner and Francis with but seven hun- 
 dred men to bear the brunt of the battle. These posted themselves 
 behind logs and trees in " backwood " style, whence they kept up 
 a destructive fire and were evidently gaining the advantage, when 
 Gen. Riedesel came pressing into the action with his German 
 troops ; drums beating and colors flying. There was now an 
 impetuous charge with the bayonet. Col. Francis was among the 
 first who fell, gallantly fighting at the head of his men. The 
 Americans, thinking the whole German force upon them, gave way 
 and fled, leaving the ground covered with their dead and wounded. 
 Many others who had been wounded perished in the woods, where 
 they had taken refuge. Their whole loss in killed, wounded and 
 taken, was upward of three hundred ; that of the enemy one 
 hundred and eighty-three. Several officers were lost on both 
 
1/77'] BARRIERS OF THE NORTH BROKEN, 31^ 
 
 sides. At this juncture St. Clair received information of Bur- 
 goyne's arrival at Skenesborough, and the destruction of the 
 American works tliere : fearing to be intercepted at Fort Anne, 
 he immediately changed his route, struck into the woods on his 
 left, and directed his march to Rutland, leaving word for Warner 
 to follow him. The latter overtook him two days afterward, with 
 his shattered force reduced to ninety men. As to Col. Hale, who 
 had pressed toward Castleton at the beginning of the action, he 
 and his men were overtaken the same day by the enemy, and the 
 whole party captured, without making any fight. On the 12th St. 
 Clair reached Fort Edward, his troops haggard and exhausted by 
 their long retreat through the woods. The loss of artillery, ammu- 
 nition, provisions and stores, in consequence of the evacuation of 
 these northern posts, was prodigious ; but the worst effect was the 
 consternation spread throughout the country. A panic prevailed 
 at Albany, the people running about as if distracted, sending off 
 their goods and furniture. The great barriers of the North, it was 
 said, were broken through, and tliere was nothing to check the 
 triumphant career of the enemy. 
 
 A spirited exploit to the eastward was performed during the 
 prevalence of adverse news from the North. Gen. Prescott had 
 command of the British forces in Rhode Island. His harsh treat- 
 ment of Col. Ethan Allen, and his haughty and arrogant conduct 
 on various occasions, had rendered him peculiarly odious to the 
 Americans. Lieut. -Col. Barton, who was stationed with a force 
 of Rhode Island militia on the mainland, received word that 
 Prescott was quartered at a country house near the western shore 
 of the island, about four miles from Newport, totally unconscious 
 of danger, though in a very exposed situation. He determined, 
 if possible, to surprise and capture him. Forty resolute men 
 joined him in the enterprise. Embarking at night in two boats at 
 Warwick Neck, they pulled quietly across the bay with muffled 
 oars, undiscovered by the ships of war and guard-boats ; landed 
 in silence ; eluded the vigilance of the guard stationed near the 
 house ; captured the sentry at the door, and surprised the general 
 in his bed. His aide-de-camp leaped from the window, but was 
 likewise taken. Col. Barton returned with equal silence and 
 address, and arrived safe at Warwick with his prisoners» A sword 
 was voted to him by Congress, and he received a colonel's com- 
 mission in the regular army. Washington hailed the capture of 
 Prescott as a peculiarly fortunate circumstance, furnishing him with 
 an equivalent for Gen. Lee. He accordingly wrote to Sir William 
 Howe, proposing the exchange. 
 
 Schuyler had earnestly desired the assistance of an active 
 officer well acquainted with the country. Washington sent him 
 Arnold. "I need not," writes he, •* enlarge upon his well-known 
 activity, conduct and bravery. The proofs he has given of all 
 these have gained him the confidence of the public and of the 
 army, the Eastern troops in particular." — Schuyler, in the mean- 
 time, aided by Kosciuszko, who was engineer in his department, 
 had selected two positions on Moses Creek, four miles below Fort 
 
320 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Edward ; where the troops which had retreated from Ticonderoga, 
 and part of the militia, were throwing up works. To impede the 
 advance of the enemy, he had caused trees to be felled into Wood 
 Creek, so as to render it unnavigable, and the roads between Fort 
 Edward and Fort Anne to be broken up ; the cattle in that direc- 
 tion to be brought away, and the forage destroyed. He had drawn 
 off the garrison from Fort George, who left the buildings in flames. 
 Washington wrote to Schuyler (July 22d), full of that confident 
 hope, founded on sagacious forecast, with which he was prone to 
 animate his generals in times of doubt and difficulty. " Though 
 our affairs for some days days past have worn a dark and gloomy 
 aspect, I yet look forward to a fortunate and happy change. I 
 trust Gen. Burgoyne's army will meet sooner or later an effectual 
 check, and, as I suggested before, that the success he has had will 
 precipitate his ruin. From your accounts, he appears to be pur- 
 suing that line of conduct, which, of all others, is most favorable 
 to us ; I mean acting in detachment. This conduct Avill certainly 
 give room for enterprise on our part, and expose his parties to 
 great hazard. Could we be so happy as to cut one of them off, 
 supposing it should not exceed four, five, or six hundred men, it 
 would inspirit the people, and do away much of their present 
 anxiety. In such an event they would lose sight of past misfor- 
 tunes, and, urged at the same time by a regard to their own 
 security, they would fly to arms and afford every aid in their 
 power." While he thus suggested bold enterprises, he cautioned 
 Schuyler not to repose too much confidence in the works he was 
 projecting, so as to collect in them a large quantity of stores. " I 
 begin to consider lines as a kind of trap; " writes he, "and not 
 to answer the valuable purposes expected from them, unless they 
 are in passes which cannot be avoided by the enemy." In circu- 
 lars addressed to the brigadier-generals of militia in the western 
 parts of l\Iassachusctts and Connecticut, he warned them that the 
 evacuation of Ticonderoga had opened a door by which the 
 enemy, unless vigorously opposed, might penetrate the northern 
 part of the State of New York, and the western parts of New 
 Hampshire and Massachusetts, and, forming a junction with Gen. 
 Howe, cut off the communication between the Eastern and Northern 
 States. He added : "I trust that you will march with at least one- 
 third of the militia under your command, and rendezvous at Sara- 
 toga, unless directed to some other place by Gen. Schuyler or Gen. 
 Arnold." He highly approved of a measure suggested by Schuyler, 
 of stationing a body of troops somewhere about the Hampshire 
 Grants (^^crmont), so as to be in the rear or on the flank of Bur- 
 goyne, should he advance. It would make the latter, he said, very 
 circumspect in his advances, if it did not entirely prevent them. It 
 would keep him in continual anxiety for his rear, and oblige him 
 to leave the posts behind him much stronger than he would other- 
 wise do. The reader will find in the sequel what a propitious 
 effect all these measures had upon the fortunes of the Northern 
 campaign, and with what admirable foresight Washington calcu- 
 lated all its chances. Due credit must also be given to the saga- 
 
I777-] THE BRITISH FLEET LEAVES NEW YORK. 321 
 
 cious counsels and executive energy of Schuyler ; who suggested 
 some of the best moves in the campaign, and carried them vigor- 
 ously into action. Never was Washington more ably and loyally 
 seconded by any of his generals. 
 
 On the 23d of July, the fleet, so long the object of watchful 
 solicitude, actually put to sea. The force embarked, according to 
 subsequent accounts, consisted of thirty-six British and Hessian 
 battalions, including the light infantry and grenadiers, with a 
 powerful artillery ; a New York corps of provincials, or royaUsts, 
 called the Queen's Rangers, and a regiment of light-horse ; 
 between fifteen and eighteen thousand men in all. The force left 
 with Gen. CHnton for the protection of New York consisted of 
 seventeen battalions, a regiment of light-horse, and the remainder 
 of the provincial corps. Washington now set out with his army for 
 the Delaware, ordering Sullivan and StirHng with their divisions to 
 cross the Hudson from Peekskill, and proceed toward Philadelphia. 
 Every movement and order showed his doubt and perplexity, and 
 the circumspection with which he had to proceed. On the 31st, 
 he was informed that the enemy's fleet of two hundred and twenty- 
 eight sail had arrived the day previous at the Capes of Delaware. 
 The very next day came word, by express, that the fleet had again 
 sailed out of the Capes, and apparently shaped its course east- 
 ward. He wrote, to Gen. George CHnton, to reinforce Putnam 
 with as many of the New York militia as could be collected. Clin- 
 ton had just been installed Governor of the State of New York; the 
 first person elevated to that office under the Constitution. He still 
 continued in actual command of the militia of the State, and had 
 determined to resume the command of Fort Montgomery in the 
 Highlands. Washington requested Putnam to send an express to 
 Governor Trumbull, urging assistance from the militia of his State 
 without a moment's loss of time. "Connecticut cannot be in 
 more danger through any channel than this, and every motive of 
 its own interest and the general good demands its utmost endeavors 
 to give you effectual assistance." Tliere could be no surer reliance 
 for aid in time of danger than the partrotism of Gov. Trumbull ; 
 nor were there men more ready to obey a sudden appeal to arms 
 than the yeomanry of Connecticut ; however much their hearts 
 might subsequently yearn toward the farms and firesides they had 
 so promptly abandoned. No portion of the Union was more 
 severely tasked, throughout the Revolution, for military services; 
 and Washington avowed, when the great struggle was over, that, 
 "if all the States had done their duty as well as the little State of 
 Connecticut, the war would have been ended long ago." 
 
 Washington remained at Germantown in painful uncertainty 
 about the British fleet ; whether gone to the south or to the east ; and 
 waited for further intelligence. Might it not be Howe's plan, by thus 
 appearing with his ships at different places, to lure the army after 
 him, and thereby leave the country open for Sir Henry Clinton 
 with the troops at New York to form a junction with Burgoyne ? 
 With this idea Washington wrote forthwith to the veteran Putnam 
 to be on the alert ; collect all the force he could to strengthen his 
 II 
 
322 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 post at Peekskill, and send down spies to ascertain whether Sir 
 Henry Clinton was actually at New York, and what troops he had 
 there. The old general, whose boast it was that he never slept but 
 with one eye, was already on the alert. A circumstance had 
 given him proof positive that Sir Henry was in New York, and 
 had roused his mihtary ire. A spy, sent by that commander, had 
 been detected furtively collecting information of the force and con- 
 dition of the post at Peekskill, and had undergone a military trial. 
 A vessel of war came up the Hudson in all haste, and landed a 
 flag of truce at Verplanck's Point, by which a message was trans- 
 mitted to Putnam from Sir Henr}" CHnton, claiming Edmund Pal- 
 mer as a lieutenant in the British service. The reply of the old 
 general was brief but emphatic : 
 
 Headquarters, Ttli Aug., 1777. 
 " EcImiuKl Palmer, an officer in the enemy's service, was taken as a spy 
 lurking within our lines ; he has been tried as a spy, condemned as a spy, and 
 shall be executed as a spy ; and the flag is ordered to depart immediately. 
 
 *' Israel Putnam. 
 " P. S.— He has, accordingly, been executed." 
 
 One measure more was taken by Washington, during this inter-, 
 val, in aid of the Northern department. The Indians who accom- 
 panied Burgoyne were objects of great dread to the American 
 troops, especially the mihtia. As a counterpoise to them, he now 
 sent up Col. Morgan with five hundred riflemen, to fight them in 
 their own way. " They are all chosen men," said he, " selected 
 from the army at large, and well acquainted with the use of rifles 
 and with that mode of fighting. I expect the most eminent 
 services from them, and I shall be mistaken if their presence does 
 not go far toward producing a general desertion among the 
 savages." It was, indeed, an arm of strength, which he could but 
 ill spare from his own army. He was thus, in a manner, carrying 
 on two games at once, with Howe on the seaboard and Avith 
 Burgoyne on the upper waters of the Hudson, and endeavoring by 
 skillful movements to give check to both. It was an arduous and 
 complicated task, especially with his scanty and fluctuating means, 
 and the wide extent of country and great distances over which 
 he had to move his men. His measures to throw a force in the 
 rear of Burgoyne were now in a fair way of being carried into 
 effect. Lincoln was at Bennington. Stark had joined him with 
 a body of New Hampshire militia, and a corps of Massachusetts 
 militia was arriving. " Such a force in his rear," observed Wash- 
 ington, "will oblige Burgoyne to leave such strong posts behind 
 as must make his main body very weak, and extremely capable 
 of being repulsed by the force we have in front." 
 
 During his encampment in the neighborhood of Philadelphia, 
 Washington was repeatedly at that city, making himself acquainted 
 with the military capabilities of the place and its surrounding 
 country, and directing the construction of fortifications on the 
 river. In one of these visits he became acquainted with the young 
 Marquis de Lafayette, who had recently arrived from France, in 
 company with a number of French, Polish, and German officers. 
 
1777-] MARQUIS DE LAFA YETTE, 323 
 
 among whom was the Baron de Kalb. The marquis was not quite 
 twenty years of age, yet had aheady been married nearly three 
 years to a lady of rank and fortune. Full of the romance of 
 liberty, he had torn himself from his youthful bride, turned his 
 back upon the gayeties and splendors of a court, and in defiance 
 of impediments and difficulties multiplied in his path, had made 
 his way to America to join its hazardous fortunes. He sent in his 
 letters of recommendation to Mr. Lovell, Chairman of the Com- 
 mittee of Foreign Affairs ; and applied the next day at the door 
 of Congress to know his success. Mr. Lovell came forth, and 
 gave him but little encourgement ; Congress, in fact, was embar- 
 rassed by the number of foreign applications, many without 
 merit. Lafayette immediately sent in the following note : " After 
 my sacrifices, I have the right to ask two favors ; one is to serve 
 at my own expense ; the other, to commence by serving as a 
 volunteer." This simple appeal had its eftect : it called attention 
 to his peculiar case, and Congress resolved on the 31st of July, 
 that in consideration of his zeal, his illustrious family and connec- 
 tions, he should have the rank of major-general in the army of 
 the United States. Lafayette from the first, attached himself to 
 Washington with an affectionate reverence, the sincerity of which 
 could not be mistaken, and soon won his way into a heart, which, 
 with all its apparent coldness, was naturally confiding, and required 
 sympathy and friendship ; and it is a picture well worthy to be 
 hung up in history — this cordial and enduring alliance of the 
 calm, dignified, sedate Washington, mature in years and wisdom, 
 and the young, buoyant, enthusiastic Lafayette. 
 
 The British fleet had entered the Chesapeake, and anchored at 
 Swan's Point at least two hundred miles within the capes. Gen. 
 Howe meant to reach Philadelphia by that route — "though," 
 writes Washington, "it is a strange one." The several divisions 
 of the army had been summoned to the immediate neighborhood 
 of Philadelphia, and the militia of Pennsylvania, Delaware, and 
 the northern parts of Virginia were called out. Many of the 
 mihtia, with Colonel Proctor's corps of artillery, had been ordered 
 to rendezvous at Chester on the Delaware, about twelve miles 
 below Philadelphia; and by Washington's orders. Gen. Wayne 
 left his brigade under the next in command, and repaired to Chester, 
 to arrange the troops assembling there. As there had been much 
 disaffection to the cause evinced in Philadelphia, Washington, in 
 order to encourage its friends and dishearten its enemies, marched 
 with the whole army through the city, down Front and up Chest- 
 nut street. Great pains were taken to make the display as 
 imposing as possible. All were charged to keep to their ranks, 
 carry their arms well, and step in time to the music of the drums 
 and fifes, collected in the center of each brigade. He rode at the 
 head of the troops attended by his numerous staff, with the 
 Marquis Lafayette by his side. The long column of the army, 
 broken into divisions and brigades, the pioneers with their axes, 
 the squadrons of horse, the extended trains of artillery, the tramp 
 of steed, the bray of trumpet, and the spirit-stirring sound of 
 
324 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 drum and fife, all had an imposing effect on a peaceful city unused 
 to the sight of marshaled armies. The disaffected, who had been 
 taught to believe the American forces much less than they were 
 in reality, were astonished as they gazed on the lengthening pro- 
 cession of a host, which, to their unpracticed eyes, appeared 
 innumerable ; while the whigs, gaining fresh hope and animation 
 from the sight, cheered the patriot squadrons as they passed. 
 Having marched through Philadelphia, the army continued on 
 to Wilmington, at the confluence of Christiana Creek and the 
 lirandywine, where Washington set up his headquarters, his troops 
 being encamped on the neighboring heights. 
 
 Burgoyne remained nearly three weeks at Skenesborough, await- 
 ing the residue of his troops, with tents, baggage and provisions, 
 and preparing for his grand move toward the Hudson River. 
 Many royalists flocked to his standard. One of tlie most 
 important was Major Skene, from whom the place was named, 
 being its founder, and the owner of much land in its neighborhood. 
 The progress of the army toward the Hudson was slow and diffi- 
 cult. Bridges broken down had to be rebuilt ; great trees to be 
 removed which had been felled across the roads and into Wood 
 Creek, which stream was completely choked. It was not until 
 the latter part of July that Burgoyne reached Fort Anne. At his 
 approach, Gen. Schuyler retired from Fort Edward and took post 
 at Fort Miller, a few miles lower down the Hudson. The Indian 
 allies who had hitherto accompanied the British army, had been 
 more troublesome than useful. Neither Burgoyne nor his officers 
 understood their language, but were obliged to communicate with 
 them through Canadian interpreters ; too often designing knaves, 
 who played false to both parties. The Indians, too, were of the 
 tribes of Lower Canada, corrupted and debased by intercourse 
 with white men. It had been found difficult to draw them from 
 the plunder of Ticonderoga, or to restrain their murderous pro- 
 pensities. A party had recently arrived of a different stamp. 
 Braves of the Ottawa and other tribes from the upper country ; 
 painted and decorated with savage magnificence, and bearing 
 trophies of former triump)hs. They were, in fact, according to 
 Burgoyne, the very Indians who had aided the French in the 
 defeat of Braddock, and were under the conduct of two French 
 leaders ; one, named Langlade, had command of them on that 
 very occasion ; the other, named St. Luc, is described by Bur- 
 goyne as a Canadian gentleman of honor and abilities, and one 
 of the best partisans of the French in the war of 1756. Burgoyne 
 trusted to his newly arrived Indians to give a check to the opera- 
 tions of Schuyler, knowing the terror they inspired throughout the 
 country. He thought also to employ them in a wild foray to the 
 Connecticut River, to force a supply of provisions, intercept rein- 
 forcements to the American am:iy, and confirm the jealousy which 
 he had, in many ways, endeavored to excite in the New England 
 provinces. He was naturally a humane man, and disliked Indian 
 allies, but these had hitherto served in company with civilized 
 troops, and he trusted to the influence possessed over them by St, 
 
I777-] MURDER OF MISS McCREA, 325 
 
 Luc and Langlade, to keep them within the usages of war. A cir- 
 cumstance occurred, however, wliich showed how Uttle the " wild 
 honor" of these warriors of the tomahawk is to be depended upon. 
 In Gen. Eraser's division was a young officer, Lieut. David Jones, 
 an American loyalist. His family had their home in the vicinity 
 of Fort Edward before the Revolution. A mutual attachment 
 had taken place between the youth and a beautiful girl, Jane Mc- 
 Crea. She was the daughter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman 
 of the Jerseys, sometime deceased, and resided with her brother 
 on the banks of the Hudson a few miles below Fort Edward. 
 The lovers were engaged to be married, when the breaking out of 
 the war severed families and disturbed all the relations of life. 
 The Joneses were royalists ; the brother of Miss McCrea was a 
 stanch whig. The former removed to Canada, where David Jones 
 was among the most respectable of those who joined the royal 
 standard, and received a lieutenant's commission. The attach- 
 ment between the lovers continued, and it is probable that a cor- 
 respondence was kept up between them. Lieut. Jones was now in 
 Eraser's camp; in his old neighborhood. Miss McCrea was on a 
 visit to a widow lady, Mrs. O'Niel, residing at Fort Edward. The 
 approach of Burgoyne's army had spread an alarm through the 
 country ; the inhabitants were flying from their homes. The 
 brother of Miss McCrea determined to move to Albany, and sent 
 for his sister to return home and make ready to accompany him. 
 She hesitated to obey. He sent a more urgent message, repre- 
 senting the danger of lingering near the fort, which must inevit- 
 ably fall into the hands of the enemy. Stili she lingered. The 
 lady with whom she was a guest was a royalist, a friend of Gen. 
 Eraser; her roof would be respected. Even should Fort Edward 
 be captured, what had Jane to fear ? Her lover was in the Brit- 
 ish camp ; the capture of the fort would reunite them. Her 
 brother's messages now became peremptory. She prepared, 
 reluctantly, to obey, and was to embark in a large bateau which 
 was to convey several families down the river. The very morn- 
 ing when the embarkation was to take place, the neighborhood 
 was a scene of terror. A marauding party of Indians, sent out 
 by Burgoyne to annoy Gen. Schuyler, were harassing the coun- 
 try. Several of them burst into the house of Mrs. O'Neil, sacked 
 and plundered it, and carried off her and Miss McCrea prisoners. 
 In her fright the latter promised the savages a large reward, if 
 they would spare her life and take her in safety to the British camp. 
 It was a fatal promise. Halting at a spring, a quarrel arose 
 among the savages, inflamed most probably with drink, as to whose 
 prize she was, and who was entitled to the reward. The dispute 
 became furious, and one, in a paroxysm of rage, killed her on the 
 spot. He completed the savage act by bearing ofl" her scalp as a 
 trophy. Gen. Burgoyne was struck with horror when he heard of 
 this bloody deed. What at first heightened the atrocity was a 
 report thatthe Indians had been sent by Lieut. Jones to bring Miss 
 McCrea to the camp. This he positively denied, and his denial 
 was believed. Burgoyne summoned a council of the Indian 
 
326 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 chiefs, in which he insisted that the murderer of Miss McCrea 
 should be given up to receive the reward of his crime. The 
 demand produced a violent agitation. The culprit was a great 
 warrior, a chief, and the " wild honor" of his brother sachems was 
 roused in his behalf. Burgoyne was reluctantly brought to spare 
 the offender. The mischief to the British cause, however, had 
 been effected. The murder of Miss McCrea resounded through- 
 out the land, counteracting all the benefit anticipated from the 
 terror of Indian hostilities. Those people of the frontiers, who 
 had hitherto remained quiet, now flew to arms to defend their fam- 
 ilies and firesides. In their exasperation they looked beyond the 
 savages to their employers. They abhorred an army, which, pro- 
 fessing to be civilized, could league itself with such barbarians ; 
 and they execrated a government, which, pretending to reclaim 
 them as subjects, could let loose such fiends to desolate their 
 homes. The blood of this unfortunate girl, therefore, was not 
 shed in vain. Armies sprang up from it. Her name passed as a 
 note of alarm, along the banks of the Hudson ; it was a rallying 
 word among the Green Mountains of Vermont, and brought down 
 all their hardy yeomanry. The sad story of Miss McCrea, like 
 many other incidents of the Revolution, has been related in such 
 a variety of ways, and so wrought up by tradition, that it is difficult 
 now to get at the simple truth. Some of the above circumstances 
 were derived from a niece of Miss McCrea, whom the author met 
 upward of fifty years since, at her residence on the banks of the St. 
 Lawrence. A stone, with her name cut on it, still marks the grave 
 of ]\Iiss McCrea near the ruins of Fort Edward ; and a tree is 
 pointed out near which she was murdered. Lieutenant Jones is 
 said to have been completely broken in spirit by the shock of her 
 death. Procuring her scalp, with its long silken tresses, he brooded 
 over it in anguish, and preserved it as a sad, but precious relic. 
 Disgusted with the service, he threw up his commission, and retired 
 to Canada ; never marrying, but living to be an old man: taciturn 
 and melancholy, and haunted by painful recollections. 
 
 As Burgoyne advanced to Fort Edward, Schuyler fell still 
 further back, and took post at Saratoga, or rather Stillwater, about 
 thirty miles from Albany. He had been joined by Major-General 
 Lincoln. In pursuance of Washington's plans, Lincoln proceeded 
 to Manchester in Vermont, to take command of the militia forces 
 collecting at that point. His presence inspired new confidence in 
 the country people, who were abandoning their homes, leaving 
 their crops ungathered, and taking refuge with their famiHes in the 
 lower towns. He found about five hundred militia assembled at 
 Manchester, underCol. Seth Warner ; others were coming on from 
 New Hampshire and Massachusetts, to protect their uncovered 
 frontier. His letters dated the 4th of August, expressed the expec- 
 tation of being, in a few days, at the head of at least two thousand 
 men. With these, according to Washington's plan, he was to 
 hang on the flank and rear of Burgoyne's army, cramp its move- 
 ments, and watch for an opportunity to strike a I3I0W. 
 
 Burgoyne was now at Fort Edward. His Indian allies resented 
 
1777.] BURGOYNE AT FORT EDWARD. 327 
 
 his conduct in regard to the affair of Miss McCrea, and were impa- 
 tient under the restraint to which they were subjected. He sus- 
 pected the Canadian interpreters of fomenting this discontent ; 
 they being accustomed to profit by the rapine of the Indians. At 
 the earnest request of St. Luc, in whom he still had confidence, he 
 called a council of the chiefs ; when, to his astonishment, the 
 tribe for whom that gentleman acted as interpreter, declared their 
 intention of returning home, and demanded his concurrence and 
 assistance. Burgoyne was greatly embarrassed. Should he 
 acquiesce, it would be to relinquish the aid of a force obtained at 
 an immense expense, esteemed in England of great importance, 
 and which really was serviceable in furnishing scouts and outposts ; 
 yet he saw that a cordial reconciliation with them could only be 
 effected by revoking his prohibitions, and indulging their propen- 
 sities to blood and rapine. He persisted in the restraints he had 
 imposed upon them, but appealed to the wild honor, of which he 
 yet considered them capable, by urging the ties of faith, of gener- 
 osity, of everything that has an influence with civilized man. His 
 speech appeared to have a good effect. Some of the remote tribes 
 made zealous jDrofessions of loyalty and adhesion. Others, of 
 Lower Canada, only asked furloughs for parties to return home 
 and gather in their harvests. These were readily granted, and 
 perfect harmony seemed restored. The next day, however, the 
 chivalry of the wilderness deserted by scores, laden with such spoil 
 as they had collected in their maraudings. These desertions con- 
 tinued from day to day, until there remained in the camp scarce a 
 vestige of the savage warriors that had joined the army at Skenes* 
 borough. 
 
 New difficulties beset Burgoyne at Fort Edward. He had not 
 the requisite supply of horses and oxen. So far from being able 
 to bring forward provisions for a march ; it was wiih difficulty- 
 enough could be furnished to feed the army from day to day. He 
 received intelligence that the part of his army which he had 
 detached from Canada under Col. St. Leger, to proceed to Lake 
 Ontario and Oswego and make a diversion on the Mohawk, had 
 penetrated to that river, and were actually investing Fort Stanwix, 
 the stronghold of that part of the country. To carry out the orig- 
 inal plan of his campaign, it now behooved him to make a rapid 
 move down the Hudson, so as to be at hand to cooperate with St. 
 Leger on his approach to Albany. But how was he to do this, 
 deficient as he was in horses and vehicles for transportation .'* In 
 this dilemma Colonel (late major) Skene informed him that at Ben- 
 nington, about twenty-four miles east of the Hudson, the Ameri- 
 cans had a great depot of horses, carriages, and supplies of all 
 kinds, intended for their Northern army. An expedition was im- 
 mediately set on foot ; not only to surprise the place, but to scour 
 the country from Rockingham to Otter Creek ; go down the Con- 
 necticut as far as Brattleborough, and return by the great road to 
 Albany, there to meet Burgoyne. They were everywhere to give 
 out that this was the vanguard of the British army, which would 
 
328 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 soon follow on its way to Boston, and would be joined by the army 
 from Rhode Island. 
 
 Fort Schuyler, built in I756, and formerly called Fort Stanwix, 
 and now invested by the detachment under St. Lcger, had been 
 repaired by order of General Schuyler, and was garrisoned by 
 seven hundred and fifty Continental troops from New York and 
 Massachusetts, under Col. Gansevoort of the New York line, a 
 stout-hearted t^fficer of Dutch descent, who had served under Gen. 
 Montgomery in Canada. It was a motley force which appeared 
 before it; British, Hessian, Royalist, Canadian and Indian, about 
 seventeen hundred in all. Among them were St. Leger's rangers 
 and Sir John Johnson's royalist corps, called his greens. Many of 
 the latter had followed Sir John into Canada from the valley of the 
 Mohawk, and were now returned to bring the horrors of war 
 among their former neighbors. The Indians, their worthy allies, 
 were led by the famous Brant. On the 3d of August, St. Leger 
 sent in a flag with a summons to surrender ; accompanied by a 
 proclamation in style and spirit similar to that recently issued by 
 Burgoyne, and intended to operate on the garrison. Both his sum- 
 mons and his proclamation were disregarded. He now set his 
 troops to work to fortify his camp and clear obstructions from 
 Wood Creek and the roads, for the transportation of artillery and 
 provisions, and sent out scouting parties of Indians in all direc- 
 tions, to cut off all communication of the garrison with the sur- 
 rounding country. A few shells were thrown into the fort. The 
 chief annoyance of the garrison was from the Indians firing with 
 their rifles from behind trees on those busied in repairing the para- 
 pets. At night they seemed completely to surround the fort, filling 
 the woods with their yells and bowlings. On the 6th of August, 
 three men made their way into the fort through a swamp, which 
 the enemy had deemed impassable. They brought the cheering 
 intelligence that Gen. Herkimer, the veteran commander of the 
 militia of Tryon County, was at Oriskany, about eight miles dis- 
 tant, with upward of eight hundred men. The people of that 
 county were many of them of German origin ; some of them Ger- 
 mans by birth. Herkimer was among the former ; a large and 
 powerful man, about sixty-five years of age. He requested Col. 
 Gansevoort, through his two messengers, to fire three signal-guns 
 on receiving word of his vicinage; upon hearing which, he would 
 endeavor to force his way to the fort, depending upon the cooper- 
 ration of the grrrison. The messengers had been dispatched by 
 Herkimer on the evening of the 5th, and he had calculated that 
 they would reach the fort at a very early hour in the morning. 
 Through some delay, they did not reach it until between ten and 
 eleven o'clock. Gansevoort instantly complied with the message. 
 Three signal-guns were fired, and Col, Willett, of the New York 
 Continentals, with two hundred and fifty men and an iron three- 
 pounder, was detached to make a diversion, by attacking that 
 part of the enemy's camp occupied by Johnson and his royal- 
 ists. The delay of the messengers in the night, however, dis- 
 concerted the plan of Herkimer. He marshaled his troops by 
 
1777.1 BATTLE OF O RISK ANY. 329 
 
 daybreak and waited for the signal-guns. Hour after hour 
 elapsed, but no gun was heard. His officers became impatient 
 of delay, and urged an immediate march. Herkimer represented 
 that they were too weak to force their way to the fort without 
 reinforcements, or without being sure of cooperation from the 
 garrison, and was still for waiting the preconcerted signals. 
 About ten o'clock they came to a place where the road was car- 
 ried on a causeway of logs across a deep marshy ravine, between 
 high level banks. The main division descended into the ravine, 
 followed by the baggage-wagons. They had scarcely crossed 
 it, when enemies suddenly sprang up in front and on either side, 
 with deadly volleys of musketry, and deafening yells and war- 
 whoops. In fact, St. Leger, apprised by his scouts of their 
 intended approach, had sent a force to waylay them. The sav- 
 ages discharged their rifles simultaneously with the troops, and 
 instantly rushed forward with spears and tomahawks, yelling like 
 demons, and commencing a dreadful butchery. The rear-guard, 
 which had not entered the ravine, retreated. The main body, 
 tliough thrown into confusion, defended themselves bravely. 
 One of those severe conflicts ensued, common in Indian warfare, 
 where the combatants take post with their rifles, behind rock and 
 tree, or come to deadly struggle with knife and tomahawk. The 
 veteran Herkimer was wounded early in the action. A musket 
 ball shattered his leg just below the knee, killing his horse at the 
 same time. He made his men place him on his saddle at the 
 foot of a large beech tree, against the trunk of which he leaned, 
 continuing to give his orders. The regulars attempted to charge 
 with the bayonet ; but the Americans formed themselves in cir- 
 cles back to back, and repelled them. A heavy storm of thun- 
 der and rain caused a temporary lull to the fight, during which 
 the patriots changed their ground. Some of them stationed them- 
 selves in pairs behind trees ; so that when one had fired the 
 other could cover him until he had reloaded ; for the savages 
 were apt to rush up with knife and tomahawk the moment a 
 man had discharged his piece. Old neighbors met in deadly 
 feud ; former intimacy gave bitterness to present hate, and war 
 was literally carried to the knife ; for the bodies of combatants 
 were afterward found on the field of battle, grappled in death, 
 with the hand still grasping the knife plunged in a neighbor's 
 heart. 
 
 The Indians, at length, having lost many of their bravest war- 
 riors, gave the retreating cry, Oonah ! Oonah ! and fled to the 
 woods. The greens and rangers, hearing a firing in the direction 
 of the fort, feared an attack upon their camp, and hastened to its 
 defence, carrying off with them many prisoners. The Americans 
 did not pursue them, but placing their wounded on litters made of 
 branches of trees, returned to Oriskany. They had two hundred 
 killed, and a number wounded. Several of these were officers. 
 The loss of the enemy is thought to have been equally great as to 
 numbers ; but then the difference in value between regulars and 
 militia! the former often the refuse of mankind, mere hirelings, 
 
330 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 whereas among the privates of the militia, called out from their 
 homes to defend the-ir neighborhood, were many of the worthiest 
 and most valuable of the yeomanry. The premature haste of the 
 Indians in attacking, had saved the Americans from being com- 
 pletely surrounded. The rear-guard, not having entered the 
 dehle, turned and made a rapid retreat, but were pursued by the 
 Indians and suffered greatly in a running fight. As to Gen. Her- 
 kimer, he was conveyed to his residence on the Mohawk River, 
 and died nine days after the battle, not so much from his wounds 
 as from bad surgery ; sinking gradually through loss of blood from 
 an unskillful amputation. He died hke a philosopher and a Chris- 
 tian, smoking his pipe and reading his Bible to the last. His 
 name has been given to a county in that part of the State. 
 The sortie of Col. Willett had been spirited and successful. He 
 attacked the encampments of Sir John Johnson and the Indians, 
 which were contiguous, and strong detachments of which were 
 absent on the ambuscade. Sir John and his men were driven to 
 the river ; the Indians fled to the woods. Willett sacked their 
 camps ; loaded wagons with camp equipage, clothing, blankets, 
 and stores of all kinds, seized the baggage and papers of Sir John and 
 of several of his officers, and retreated safely to the fort, just as St. 
 Legerwas coming up with a powerful reinforcement. Five colors, 
 which he had brought away with him as trophies, were displayed 
 under the flag of the fort, while his men gave three cheers from 
 the ramparts. St. Leger now began to lose heart. The fort 
 proved more capable of defence than he had anticipated. His 
 artillery was too light, and the ramparts, being of sod, were not 
 easily battered. He was obliged reluctantly to resort to the slow 
 process of sapping and mining, and began to make regular 
 approaches. Ganesvoort, seeing the siege was likely to be pro- 
 tracted, resolved to send to Gen. Schuyler for succor. Col. Wil- 
 lett volunteered to undertake the perilous errand. He was accom- 
 panied by Lieut. Stockwcll, an excellent w^oodsman, who served 
 as a guide. They left the fort on the loth, after dark, by a sally- 
 port, passed by the British sentinels and close by the Indian camp, 
 without being discovered, and made their way through bog and 
 morass and pathless forests, and all kind of risks and hardships, 
 until they reached the German Flats on the Mohawk. Here Wil- 
 lett procured a couple of horses, and by dint of hoof arrived at 
 the camp of Gen. Schuyler at Stillwater. 
 
 Schuyler was in Albany in the early part of August, making 
 stirring appeals in every direction for reinforcements. Burgoyne 
 was advancing upon him ; he had received news ot the disastrous 
 affair of Oriskany, and the death of Gen. Herkimer, and Tryon 
 County was crying to him for assistance. One of his appeals was to 
 the veteran John Stark, the comrade of Putnam in the French 
 war and the Battle of Bunker's Hill. He had his farm in the 
 Hampshire Grants, and his name was a tower of strength among 
 the Green Mountain Boys. But Stark was soured with govern- 
 ment, and had retired from service, his name having been omitted 
 in the hst of promotions. Schuyler was about to mount his horse 
 
1 ^7^^:\ benning ton no t surprised. 33 1 
 
 on the loth, to return to the camp at Stillwater, when a dispatch 
 from Congress was put into his hand containing the resolves which 
 recalled him to attend a court of inquiry about the affair of Ticon- 
 deroga, and requested Washington to appoint an officer to succeed 
 him. He felt deeply the indignity of being thus recalled at a time 
 when an engagement was apparently at hand ; in the meantime he 
 considered it his duty to remain at his post until his successor 
 should arrive, or some officer in the department be nominated to 
 the command • Returning, therefore, to the camp at Stillwater, he 
 continued to conduct the affairs of the army with unremitting zeal. 
 His first care was to send relief to Gansevoort and his beleaguered 
 garrison. Eight hundred men were all that he could spare from 
 his army in its present threatened state. Arnold was in camp; 
 recently sent on as an efficient coadjutor, by Washington; he was 
 in a state of exasperation against the government, having just 
 learned that the question of rank had been decided against him in 
 Congress. Indeed, he would have retired instantly from the ser- 
 vice, had not Schuyler prevailed on him to remain until the 
 impending danger was over. The opportunity of an exploit flashed 
 on his adventurous spirit. He stepped promptly forward and*vol- 
 unteered to lead detachments for the relief of Fort Schuyler. 
 
 Bennington was a central place, whither the live stock was 
 driven from various parts of the Hampshire Grants, and whence 
 the American army derived its supplies. It was a great deposit, 
 also, of grain of various kinds, and of wheel carriages ; the usual 
 guard was militia, varying from day to day. Bennington was to 
 be surprised. The country was to be scoured from Rockingham 
 to Otter Creek in quest of provisions for the army, horses and oxen 
 for draft, and horses for the cavalry. All public magazines were 
 to be sacked. All cattle belonging to royalists, and which could 
 be spared by their owners, were to be paid for. All rebel flocks and 
 herds were to be driven away. Lieut. -Colonel Baum was to com- 
 mand the detachment. He had under him, according to Burgoyne, 
 two hundred dismounted dragoons of the regiment of Riedesel, Capt. 
 Fraser's marksmen, which were the only British, all the Canadian vol- 
 unteers, a party of the provincials who perfectly knew the country, 
 one hundred Indians, and two light pieces of cannon. The whole 
 detachment amounted to about five hundred men. The dragoons, 
 it was expected, would supply themselves with horses in the course 
 of the foray ; and a skeleton corps of royalists would be filled up 
 by recruits. The Germans had no great liking for the Indians as 
 fellow-campaigners ; especially those who had come from Upper 
 Canada under St. Luc. " These savages are heathens, huge, war- 
 like and enterprising, but wicked as Satan," writes a Hessian 
 officer. "Some say they are cannibals, but I do not believe it; 
 though in their fury they will tear the flesh off their enemies with 
 their teeth. They have a martial air, and their wild ornaments 
 become them." The choice of German troops for this foray was 
 much sneered at by the British officers. " A corps could not have 
 been found in the whole army," said theyi "so unfit for a service 
 requiring rapidity of motion, as Riedesel's dragoons. The very 
 
332 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 hat and sword of one of them weighed nearly as much as the 
 whole equipment of a British soldier. The worst British regiment 
 in the service would march two miles to their one." To be near at 
 hand in case assistance should be required, Burgoyne encamped 
 on the east side of the Hudson, nearly opposite Saratoga, throw- 
 ing over a bridge of boats by which Gen. Fraser, with the advanced 
 guard, crossed to that place. Col. Baum set out from camp at 
 break of day, on the 13th of August. All that had been predicted 
 of his movements was verified. The badness of «the road, the 
 excessive heat, of the weather, and the want of carriages and 
 horses were alleged in excuse; but slow and unapt men ever meet 
 with impediments. Some cattle, carts and wagons were captured 
 at Cambridge ; a few horses also were brought in; but the Indians 
 killed or drove off all that fell into their hands, unless they were 
 paid in cash for their prizes. Baum was too slow a man to take a 
 place by surprise. The people of Bennington heard of his 
 approach and were on the alert. The veteran Stark was there with 
 eight or nine hundred troops. During the late alarms the militia 
 of the State had been formed into two brigades, one to be com- 
 manded by Gen. William Whipple ; Stark had with difficulty been 
 prevailed upon to accept the command of the other, upon the 
 express condition that he should not be obliged to join the main 
 army, but should be left to his own discretion, to make war in his 
 own partisan style, hovering about the enemy in their march through 
 the country, and accountable to none but the authorities of New 
 Hampshire. Having heard that Indians had appeared at Cam- 
 bridge, twelve miles to the north of Bennington, on the 13th, he 
 sent out two hundred men under Col. Gregg in quest of them. In 
 the course of the night he learned that they were mere scouts in 
 advance of a force marching upon Bennington. He immediately 
 rallied his brigade, called out the militia of the neighborhood, and 
 sent off for Col. Seth Warner (the quondam associate of Ethan 
 Allen) and his regiment of militia, who were with Gen. Lincoln at 
 Manchester. Warner and his men marched all night through 
 drenching rain, aniving at Stark's camp in the morning, drip- 
 ping wet. Stark left them at Bennington to dry and rest them- 
 selves, and then to follow on; in the meantime, he pushed forward 
 with his men to support the party sent out the preceding day, 
 under Gregg, in quest of the Indians. He met them about five 
 miles off, in full retreat, Baum and his force a mile in their rear. 
 Stark halted and prepared for action. Baum also halted ; posted 
 himself on a high ground at a bend of the little river Walloom- 
 scoick, and began to intrench himself. Stark fell back a mile, to 
 wait for reinforcements and draw down Baum from his strong posi- 
 tion. A skirmish took place between the advance guards ; thirty 
 of Baum's men were killed and two Indian chiefs. An incessant 
 rain on the 15th, prevented an attack on Baum's camp, but there 
 was continual skirmishing. The colonel strengthened his intrench- 
 ments, and finding he had a larger force to contend with than 
 he had anticipated, sent off in all haste to Burgoyne for reinforce- 
 ments. Col. Jheyman marched off immediately, with five hundred 
 
I777.J MOLLY STARK NOT A HTDOIK 333 
 
 Hessian grenadiers and infantry and two six-pounders, leaving 
 behind him his tents, baggage, and standards. He, also, found 
 the roads so deep, and the horses so bad, that he was nearly two 
 days getting four and twenty miles. In the meantime the more 
 alert and active Americans had been mustering from all quarters 
 to Stark's assistance, with such weapons as they had at hand. 
 During the night of the 15th, Col. Symonds arrived with a body of 
 Berkshire militia. Among them was a belligerent parson, full of 
 fight, Allen by name, possibly of the bellicose family of the hero 
 of Ticonderoga. "General," cried he, "the people of Berkshire 
 have been often called out to no purpose; if you don't give them a 
 chance to fight now they will never turn out again." " You would 
 not turn out now, while it is dark and raining, would you?" 
 demanded Stark. "Not just now," was the reply. "Well, if 
 the Lord should once more give us sunshine, and I don't give you 
 fighting enough," rejoined the veteran, "I'll never ask you to turn 
 out again." On the following morning the sun shone bright, and 
 Stark prepared to attack Baum in his intrenchments; though he 
 had no artillery, and his men, for the most part, had only their 
 ordinary brown firelocks without bayonets. Two hundred of his 
 men, under Col. Nichols, were detached to the rear of the enemy's 
 left ; three hundred under Col. Herrick, to the rear of his right ; 
 they were to join their forces and attack him in the rear, while 
 Colonels Hubbard and Stickney, with two hundred men, diverted 
 his attention in front. Col. Skene and the royalists, when they saw 
 the Americans issuing out of the woods on different sides, per- 
 suaded themselves, and endeavored to persuade Baum, that these 
 were the loyal people of the country flocking to his standard. The 
 Indians were the first to discover the truth. " The woods are full of 
 Yankees," cried they, and retreated in single file between the troops 
 of Nichols and Herrick, yelling like demons and jinghng cow bells. 
 Several of them, however, were killed or Avounded as they thus 
 ran the gauntlet. At the first sound of fire-arms, Stark, who had 
 remained with the main body in camp, mounted his horse and gave 
 the word, forward ! He had promised his men the plunder of the 
 British camp. The homely speech made by him Avhen in sight of 
 the enemy, has often been cited. " Now, my men! There are the 
 red coats ! Before night they must be ours, or Molly Stark will be 
 a widow! " Baum soon found himself assailed on every side, but 
 he defended his works bravely. His two pieces of artillery, advan- 
 tageously planted, were very effective, and his troops, if slow in 
 march, were steady in action. For two hours the discharge of fire- 
 arms was said to have been like the constant rattling of the drum. 
 Stark in his dispatches compared it to a " continued clap of thun- 
 der." It was the hottest fight he had ever seen. He inspired his 
 men with his own impetuosity. They drove the royalist troops 
 upon the Hessians, and pressing after them stormed the works with 
 irresistible fury. A Hessian eye-witness declares that this time the 
 rebels fought with desperation, pressing within eight paces of the 
 loaded cannon to take surer aim at the artillerists. The latter were 
 slain ; the cannon captured. The royalists and Canadians took to 
 
334 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 flight, and escaped to the woods. The Germans st'.Il kept their 
 giound, and fought bravely until there was not a cartridge left. 
 Baum and his dragoons then took to their broadswords and the 
 infantry to their bayonets, and endeavored to cut their -way to a 
 road in the woods, but in vain ; many were killed, more wounded, 
 Baum among the number, and all who survived were taken prison- 
 ers. The victors now dispersed, some to collect booty, some to 
 attend to the wounded, some to guard the prisoners, and some to 
 seek refreshment, being exhausted by hunger and fatigue. At this 
 critical juncture, Breyman's tardy reinforcement came, making its 
 way heavily and slowly to the scene of action, joined by many of the 
 enemy who had fled. Attempts were made to rally the mihda ; 
 but they were in complete confusion. Nothing would have saved 
 them from defeat, had not Col. Scth Warner's corps fortunately 
 arrived from Bennington, fresh from repose, and advanced to meet 
 the enemy, while the others regained their ranks. It was four 
 o'clock in the afternoon when this second action commenced. It 
 was fought from wood to wood and hill to hill, for several miles, 
 until sunset. The last stand of the enemy was at Van Schaick's 
 mill, where, having expended all their ammunition, of which each 
 man had forty rounds, they gave way, and retreated, under favor 
 of the night, leaving two field-pieces and all their baggage in the 
 hands of the Americans. Stark ceased to pursue them, lest in the 
 darkness his men should fire upon each odier. " Another hour of 
 daylight, said he in his report, " and I should have captured the 
 whole body." The veteran had had a horse shot under him, but 
 escaped without wound or bruise. Four brass field-pieces, nine 
 hundred dragoon swords, a thousand stand of arms, and four 
 ammunition wagons were the spoils of this victory. Thirty-two 
 officers, five hundred and sixty-four privates, including Canadians 
 and loyalists, were taken prisoners. The number of slain was very 
 considerable, but could not be ascertained; many having fallen in 
 the w oods. The brave but unfortunate Baum did not long survive. 
 The Americans had one hundred killed and wounded. Burgoyne 
 was awakened in his camp toward daylight of the 17th, by tidings 
 that Col. Baum had surrendered. Next came word that Col. 
 Breyman was engaged in severe and doubtful conflict. The 47th 
 regiment pushed forward until 4 o'clock, when they met Breyman 
 and his troops, weary and haggard with hard fighting and hard 
 marching, in hot weather. In the evening all returned to their old 
 encampments. 
 
 Gen. Schuyler was encamped on Van Schaick's Island at the 
 mouth of the Mohawk River, when a letter from Gen. Lincoln, 
 dated Bennington, Aug. i8th, informed him of "the capital blow 
 given the enemy by Gen, Stark." Tidings of the affair reached 
 Washington, just before he moved his camp from the neighbor- 
 hood of Philadelphia to Wilmington, and it reheved his mind from 
 a world of anxious perplexity. In a letter to Putnam he writes, 
 •' As there is not now the least danger of Gen. How e's going to 
 New England, I hope the whole force of that country will turnout, 
 and by following the great stroke struck by Gen. Stark near Ben- 
 
177/.] VAN YOST CREATES A PANIC, 
 
 335 
 
 nington, entirely crush General Burgoyne, who by his letter to Col, 
 Baum, seems to be in want of almost everything." 
 
 Arnold's march to the relief of Fort Stanwix was slower than 
 suited his ardent and impatient spirit. He was detained in the 
 valley of the Mohawk by bad roads, by the necessity of waiting 
 for the baggage and ammunition wagons, and for militia recruits, 
 who turned out reluctantly. He sent missives to Col. Gansevoort, 
 assuring him that he would relieve him in the course of a few days. 
 *' Be under no kind of apprehension," writes he. " I know the strength 
 of the enemy, and how to d^aliuith ihcmj" In fact, conscious of the 
 smaUness of his force, he had resorted to stratagem, sending emis- 
 saries ahead to spread exaggerated reports of the number of his 
 troops, so as to work on the fears of the enemy's Indian allies and 
 induce them to desert The most important of these emissaries 
 was one Yan Yost Cuyler, an eccentric half-witted fellow, known 
 throughout the country as a rank tory. He had been convicted 
 as a spy, and only spared from the halter on the condition that he 
 would go into St Leger's camp, and spread alarming reports 
 among the Indians, by whom he was well known. To insure a 
 faithful discharge of his mission, Arnold detained his brother as a 
 hostage. On his way up the Mohawk Valley, Arnold was joined 
 by a New York regiment, under CoL James Livingston, sent by 
 Gates to reinforce him. On arriving at the German Flats he 
 received an express from CoL Gansevoort, informing him that 
 he was still besieged, but in high spirits and under no apprehen- 
 sions. All this while St. Leger was advancing his parallels and 
 pressing the siege ; while provisions and ammunition were rapidly 
 decreasing within the fort. His Indian allies, however, were grow- 
 ing sullen and intractable. This slow kind of warfare, this war 
 ■with the spade, they were unaccustomed to, and they by no means 
 relished it. Besides, they had been led to expect easy times, little 
 fighting, many scalps, and much plunder; whereas they had 
 fought hard, lost many of their best chiefs, been checked in their 
 cruelty, and gained no booty. By this time rumors stole into 
 the camp doubling the number of the approaching enemy, Bur- 
 goyne's whole army were said to have been defeated. Lastly 
 came Yan Yost Cuyler, with his coat full of bullet holes, giving out 
 that he had escaped from the hands of the Americans, and had 
 been fired upon by them. His story was believed, for his wounded 
 coat corroborated it, and he was known to be a royalist. Minghng 
 among his old acquaintances, the Indians, he assured them that 
 the Americans were close at hand and " numerous as the leaves 
 on the trees." The Indians, fickle as the winds, began to desert 
 Sir John Johnson and Colonels Claus and Butler endeavored in 
 vain to reassure and retain them. In a little while two hundred 
 had decamped, and the rest threatened to do so likewise, unless 
 St. Leger retreated. The unfortunate colonel found too late what 
 little reliance was to be placed upon Indian allies. He determined 
 on the 22d to send off his sick, his wounded, and his artillery by 
 Wood Creek that very night, and to protect them by the line of 
 march. The Jndians, however, goaded on by Arnold's emissaries, 
 
336 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 insisted on instant retreat. St. Leger still refused to depart 
 before nightfall. The savages now became ungovernable. They 
 seized upon liquor of the officers about to be embarked, and 
 getting intoxicated, behaved like very fiends. St. Leger was 
 obliged to decamp about noon, in such hurry and confusion that 
 he left his tents standing ; and his artillery, with most of his baggage, 
 ammunition and stores, fell into the hands of the Americans. A 
 detachment from the garrison pursued and harassed him for a time ; 
 but his greatest annoyance was from his Indian allies, who plun- 
 dered the boats which conveyed such baggage as had been 
 brought off ; murdered all stragglers who lagged in the rear, and 
 amused themselves by giving false alarms to keep up the panic of the 
 soldiery ; who would throw away muskets, knapsacks, and every- 
 thing that impeded their flight. Such was the second blow to Bur- 
 goyne's invading army ; but before the news of it reached that 
 doomed commander, he had already been half paralyzed by the 
 disaster at Bennington. The moral effect of these two blows was 
 such as Washington had predicted. Fortune, so long adverse, 
 seemed at length to have taken a favorable turn. People were 
 roused from their despondency. There was a sudden exultation 
 throughout the country. The savages had disappeared in their 
 native forests. The German veterans, so much vaunted and 
 dreaded, had been vanquished by militia, and British artillery 
 captured by men, some of whom had never seen a cannon. 
 
 Cleans were now augmenting in Schuyler's hand. Colonels 
 Livingston and Pierre van Courtlandt, forwarded by Putnam, were 
 arrived. Gov. Clinton was daily expected with New York militia 
 from the Highlands. The arrival of Arnold was anticipated with 
 troops and artillery, and Lincoln with the New England militia. 
 At this propitious moment, when everything was ready for the 
 sickle to be put into the harvest. Gen. Gates arrived in the camp. 
 Schuyler received him with noble courtesy. After acquainting 
 him with all the affairs of the department, the measures he had 
 taken and those he had projected ; he informed him of his hav- 
 ing signified lo Congress his intention to remain in that quarter 
 for the present, and render every service in his power ; and he 
 entreated Gates to call upon him for council and assistance when- 
 ever he thought proper. 
 
 Gates was in high spirits. His letters to Washington show how 
 completely he was aware that an easy path of victory had been 
 opened for him. "Upon my leaving Philadelphia," writes he, 
 " the prospect this way appeared most gloomy, but the severe 
 checks the enemy have met with at Bennington and Tryon County, 
 have given a more pleasing view of public affairs. I cannot suffi- 
 ciently thank your Excellency for sending Col. Morgan's corps to 
 this army. They will be of the greatest service to it ; for, until 
 the late success this way, I am told the army were quite panic- 
 struck by the Indians, and their tory and Canadian assassins in 
 Indian dress." Not a word does he say of consulting Schuyler, 
 who, more than any one else, was acquainted with the department 
 and its concerns, who was in constant correspondence with Wash. 
 
1777] PHILADELPHIA ATTACKED. 337 
 
 ington, and had cooperated with him in effecting the measures 
 which had produced the present promising situation of affairs. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WASHINGTON AND HOWE — CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 On the 25th of August, the British army under Gen. Howe began 
 to land from the fleet in Elk River, at the bottom of the Chesa- 
 peake Bay. The place where they landed was about six miles 
 below the Head of Elk (now Elkton), a small town, the capital of 
 Cecil County. This was seventy miles from Philadelphia ; ten 
 miles further from that city than they had been when encamped 
 at Brunswick. The intervening country, too, was less open than 
 the Jerseys, and cut up by deep streams. Sir William had chosen 
 this circuitous route in the expectation of finding friends among the 
 people of Cecil County, and of the lower counties of Pennsylvania ; 
 many of whom were Quakers and non combatants, and many per- 
 sons disaffected to the patriot cause. Early in the evening, 
 Washington received intelligence that the enemy were landing. 
 There was a quantity of public and private stores at the 
 Head of Elk, which he feared would fall into their hands if 
 they moved quickly. Every attempt was to be made to check 
 them. The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen were within 
 a few miles of Wilmington ; orders were sent for them to march 
 thither immediately. The two other divisions, which had halted 
 at Chester to refresh, were to hurry forward. Gen. Rodney, who 
 commanded the Delaware militia, was ordered to throw out scouts 
 and patrols toward the enemy, to watch their motions ; and to 
 move near them with his troops, as soon as he should be reinforced 
 by the Maryland militia. Light troops were sent out early in the 
 morning to hover about and harass the invaders. Washington 
 himself, accompanied by Gen. Greene and the Marquis de Lafay- 
 ette and their aides, rode forth to reconnoiter the country in the 
 neighborhood of the enemy, and determine how to dispose of his 
 forces when they should be collected. Hours were passed in riding 
 from place to place reconnoitering, and taking a military survey 
 of the surrounding country. At length a severe storm drove the 
 party to take shelter in a farm-house. Night came on dark and 
 stormy. Washington showed no disposition to depart. His com- 
 panions became alarmed for his safety ; there was risk of his being 
 surprised, being so near the enemy's camp ; he was not to be moved 
 either by advice or entreaties, but remained all night under the 
 farmer's roof. When he left the house at daybreak, however, says 
 Layfayette, he acknowledged his imprudence, and that the most 
 insignificant traitor might have caused his ruin. The country was 
 in a great state of alarm. The inhabitants \ver<j hurrying off their 
 
338 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 most valuable effects, so that it was difficult to procure cattle and 
 vehicles to remove the public stores. The want of horses, and the 
 annoyances given by the American light troops, however, kept 
 Howe from advancing promptly, and gave time for the greater part 
 of the stores to be saved. 
 
 The divisions of Generals Greene and Stephen were now sta- 
 tioned several miles in advance of Wilmington, behind White Clay 
 Creek, about ten miles from the Head of Elk. Gen. Smallwood 
 and Col. Gist had been directed by Congress to take command of 
 the militia of Maryland, who were gathering on the western shore, 
 and Washington sent them orders to cooperate with Gen. Rodney 
 and get in the rear of the enemy. He formed a corps of light 
 troops, by drafting a hundred men from each brigade. The com- 
 mand was given to Maj.-Gen. Maxwell, who was to hover about 
 the enemy and give them continual annoyance. 
 
 The anny was increased by the arrival of Gen. Sullivan and his div- 
 ision of three thousand men. At this time Henry Lee of Virginia, of 
 military renown, makes his first appearance. He was in the twenty- 
 second year of his age, and in the preceding year had commanded a 
 company of Virginia volunteers. He had recently signalized him- 
 self in scouting parties, harassing the enemy's pickets. Washing- 
 ton, in a letter to the President of Congress (Aug. 30th), writes : 
 **This minute twenty-four British prisoners arrived, taken yesterday 
 by Captain Lee of the light-horse." His adventurous exploits 
 soon won him notoriety, and the popular appellation of "Light- 
 horse Harry." He was favorably noticed by Washington 
 throughout the war. Perhaps there was something beside his bold, 
 dashing spirit, which won him this favor. There may have been 
 early recollections connected with it. Lee was the son of the lady 
 "who first touched W^ashington's heart in his schoolboy days, the one 
 about whom he wrote rhymes at Mount Vernon and Greenway 
 Court — his "lowland beauty." 
 
 Several days were passed by the commander-in-chief almost con- 
 tinually in the saddle, reconnoitering the roads and passes, and 
 making himself acquainted with the surrounding country; which 
 was very much intersected by rivers and small streams, running 
 chiefly from north-west to south-east. He had now made up his 
 mind to risk a battle in the open field. It is true his troops were 
 inferior to those of the enemy in number, equipments, and disci- 
 pline. Hitherto, according to Lafayette, "they had fought combats, 
 but not battles." Still those combats had given them experience ; 
 and though many of them were militia, or raw recruits, yet the 
 divisions of the army had acquired a facility at moving in large 
 masses, and were considerably improved in military tactics. At 
 any rate, it would never do to let Philadelphia, at that time the 
 capital of the States, fall without a blow. 
 
 The British army having effected a landing, was formed into two 
 divisions. One, under Sir William Howe, was stationed atElkton, 
 with its advance-guard at Gray's Hill, about two miles off. The 
 other division, under Gen. Knyphausen, was on the opposite side of 
 the ferry, at Cecil Court House. On the 3d of September the 
 
I777-] BATTLE OF BRANDYWnXE. 339 
 
 enemy advanced in considerable force, with three field-pieces, 
 moving with great caution, as the country was difficult, woody, 
 and not well known to them. About three miles in front of White 
 Clay Creek, their van-guard was encountered by Gen. Maxwell and 
 his light troops, and a severe skirmish took place. The fire of the 
 American sharpshooters and riflemen, as usual, was very effective; 
 but being inferior in number, and having no artillery. Maxwell was 
 compelled to retreat across White Clay Creek, with the loss of 
 about forty killed and wounded. The loss of the enemy was sup- 
 posed to be much greater. 
 
 The main body of the American army was now encamped on the 
 east side of Red Clay Creek, on the road leading from Elkton to 
 Philadelphia. The light-infantry were in the advance, at White 
 Clay Creek. The armies were from eight to ten miles apart. In 
 this position, Washington detemriined to await the threatened at- 
 tack. On the 5th of September he made a stirring appeal to the 
 army, in his general orders, stating the object of the enemy, the cap- 
 ture of Philadelphia. They had tried it before, from the Jerseys, 
 and had failed. He trusted they would be again disappointed. In 
 their present attempt their all was at stake. The whole would be 
 hazarded in a single battle. If defeated in that, they were totally 
 undone, and the war would be at an end. Now then was the time 
 for the most strenuous exertions. One bold stroke would free the 
 land from rapine, devastation, and brutal outrage. "Two years," 
 said he, "have we maintained the war, and struggled with difficul- 
 ties innumerable, but the prospect has brightened. Now is the 
 time to reap the fruit of all our toils and dangers ; if we behave like 
 men this third campaign will be our last." Washington's effective 
 force, militia included, did not exceed eleven thousand, and most 
 of these indifferently armed and equipped. The strength of the 
 British was computed at eighteen thousand men, but, it is thought, 
 not more than fifteen thousand were brought into action. On the 
 8th, the enemy advanced in two columns. Washington suspected 
 an intention on the part of Howe to march by his right, suddenly 
 pass the Brandywine, gain the heights north of that stream, and 
 cut him off from Philadelphia. He summoned a council of war, 
 therefore, that evening, in which it was determined immediately to 
 change their position, and move to the river in question. By two 
 o'clock in the morning, the army was under march, and by the 
 next evening was encamped on the high grounds in the rear of the 
 Brandywine. The enemy on the same evening moved to Kennet 
 Square, about seven miles from the American position. The 
 Brandywine Creek, commences with East and West branches, which 
 unite in one stream, flowing from west to east about twenty-two 
 miles, and emptying itself into the Delaware about twenty-five 
 miles below Philadelphia. It has several fords ; one called Chadd's 
 Ford, was at that time the most practicable, and in the direct route 
 from the enemy's camp to Philadelphia. As the principal attack 
 was expected here, Washington made it the center of his position, 
 where he stationed the main body of his anny, composed ofWayne's, 
 Weedon's, and Muhlenberg's brigades, with the light-infan- 
 
340 LTFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 try under Maxwell. An eminence immediately above the ford, 
 bad been intrenched in the night, and was occupied by Wayne and 
 Proctors artillery. Weedon's and Muhlenberg's brigades, which were 
 Virginian troops, and formed Gen. Greene's division, were posted in 
 the rear on the heights, as a reserve to aid either w ing of the army. 
 With these Washington took his stand. Maxwell's light-infantry 
 were thrown in the advance, south of the Brandy wine, and posted on 
 high ground each side of the road leading to the ford. "The right 
 wing of the army commanded by Sullivan, and composed of his 
 division and those of Stephen and Stirling, extended up the 
 Brandywine two miles beyond Washington's position. Its light 
 troops and vidcttes were distributed quite up to the forks. A few 
 detachments of ill-organized and undisciplined cavalry, extended 
 across the creek on the extreme right. The left wing, composed of 
 the Pennsylvania militia, under Major-Gcneral Armstrong, was 
 stationed about a mile and a half below the main body, to protect 
 the lower fords, where the least danger was apprehended. The 
 Brandywine, which ran in front of the whole line, was now the only 
 obstacle, if such it might be called, between the two armies. 
 Early on the morning of the nth, a great column of troops was 
 descried advancing on the road leading to Chadd's Ford. A skirt 
 of woods concealed its force, but it was supposed to be the main 
 body of the enemy. The Americans were immediately drawn out 
 in order of battle. Washington rode along the front of the ranks, 
 and was everywhere received with acclamations. A sharp firing 
 cf small arms soon told that Maxwell's light-infantry were engaged 
 vith the vanguard of the enemy. The skirmishing was kept up for 
 some time with spirit, when Maxwell Avas driven across the Brandy- 
 vine below the ford. Heavy cannonading commenced on both 
 sides, about ten o'clock. The enemy made repeated dispositions to 
 force the ford, which brought on as frequent skirmishes on both 
 sides of the river, for detachments of the light troops occasionally 
 crossed over. One of these skirmishes was more than usually 
 revere : the British flank-guard was closely pressed, a captain and 
 ten or fifteen men were killed, and the guard was put to flight; but 
 a large force came to their assistance, and the Americans were 
 regain driven across the stream. All this while, there was the noise 
 and uproar of a battle ; but little of the reality. Toward noon 
 came an express from Sullivan, with a note received from a scout- 
 ing party, reporting that Gen. Howe, with a large body of troops 
 and a park of artillery, was pushing up the Lancaster road, doubt- 
 less to cross at the upper fords and turn the right flank of the 
 American position. W^ashington resolved to cross the ford, attack 
 the division in front of him with his whole force, and rout it before 
 the other could arrive. He gave orders for both wings to co- 
 operate, when, as Sullivan was preparing to cross, Major Spicer of 
 the militia rode up, just from the forks, and assured him there was 
 no enemy in that quarter. After a time came a man of the neigh- 
 borhood, Thomas Cheney by name, spurring in all haste, the mare 
 he rode in foam, and himself out of breath. Dashing up to the 
 commander-in-chief, he infonned him that he must instantly move, 
 
1777.] BATTLE OF BRANDYWINE, 341 
 
 or he would be surrounded. He had come upon the enemy un- 
 awares ; had been pursued and fired upon, but the fleetness of his 
 mare had saved him. The main body of the British was coming 
 down on the east side of the stream, and was near at hand. Wash- 
 ington rephed, that, from information just received, it could not be 
 so. "You are mistaken, general," replied the other vehemently ; 
 "my life for it, you are mistaken." Then reiterating the fact with 
 an oath, and making a draft of the road in the sand, "put me un- 
 der guard," added he, "until you find my story true.' Another 
 dispatch from Sullivan corroborated it. Col. Bland, whom Wash- 
 ington had sent to reconnoiter above the forks, had seen the enemy 
 two miles in the rear of Sullivan's right, marching down at a rapid 
 rate, while a cloud of dust showed that there were more troops 
 behind them. In fact, the old Long Island stratagem had been 
 played over again. Knyphausen with a small division had en- 
 grossed the attention of the Americans by a feigned attack at 
 Chadd's Ford, kept up with great noise and prolonged by skirm- 
 ishes ; while the main body of the army under Cornwallis, led by 
 experienced guides, had made a circuit of seventeen miles, crossed 
 the two forks of the Brandywine, and arrived in the neighborhood 
 of Birmingham meeting-house, two miles to the right of Sullivan. 
 It was a capital stratagem, secretly and successfully conducted. 
 Finding that Cornwallis had thus gained the rear of the army, 
 Washington sent orders to Sullivan to oppose him with the whole 
 right wing, each brigade attacking as soon as it arrived upon the 
 ground. Wayne, in the meantime, was to keep Knyphausen at 
 bay at the ford, and Greene, with the reserve, to hold himself ready 
 to give aid wherever required. Lafayette obtained permission to 
 join Sullivan ; and spurred off with his aide-de-camp to the scene 
 of action. From his narrative, we gather some of the subsequent 
 details. Sullivan, on receiving Washington's orders, advanced 
 with his own, Stephen's and Stirling's divisions, and began to form 
 a line in front of an open piece of wood. The time which had been 
 expended in transmitting intelligence, receiving orders, and march- 
 ing, had enabled CornwalHs to choose his ground and prepare for 
 action. Still more time was given him from the apprehension of 
 the three generals, upon consultation, of being out-flanked upon the 
 right ; and that the gap between Sullivan's and Stephen's divisions 
 was too wide, and should be closed up. Orders were accordingly 
 given for the whole line to move to the right ; and while in execu- 
 tion, Cornwallis advanced rapidly with his troops in the finest order, 
 and opened a brisk fire of musketry and artillery. The Americans 
 made an obstinate resistance, but being taken at a disadvantage, 
 the right and left wings were broken and driven into the woods. 
 The center stood firm for a while, but being exposed to the whole 
 fire of the enemy, gave way at length also. The British, in follow- 
 ing up their advantage, got entangled in the wood. Lafayette had 
 thrown himself from his horse and was endeavoring to rally the 
 troops, when he was shot through the leg with a musket ball, and 
 had to be assisted into the saddle by his aide-de-camp. 'Ihe 
 Americans rallied on a height to the north of Dilworth, and made a 
 
342 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 still more spirited resistance than at first, but were again dislodged 
 and obliged to retreat with a heavy loss. While this was oc- 
 curring with the right wing, Knyphausen, as soon as he learned 
 from the heavy firing that Cornwallis was engaged, made a push to 
 force his way across Chadd's Ford in earnest. He was vigorously 
 opposed by Wayne with Proctor's artillery, aided by Maxwell and 
 his infantry. Greene was preparing to second him with the reserve, 
 when he was summoned by Washington to the support of the right 
 wing; which the commander-in-chief had found in imminent peril. 
 Greene advanced to the relief with such celerity, that it is said, on 
 good authori-ty, his division accomplished the march, or rather run, 
 of five miles, in less than fifty minutes. He arrived too late to save 
 the battle, but in time to protect the broken masses of the left wing, 
 which he met in full flight. Opening his ranks from time to time 
 for the fugitives, and closing them the moment they had passed, he 
 covered their retreat by a sharp and well-directed fire from his field- 
 pieces. His grand stand was made at a place about a mile beyond 
 Dilworth, which, in reconnoitering the neighborhood, Washington 
 had pointed out to him, as well calculated for a second posi- 
 ticn, should the army be driven out of the first ; and here he was 
 overtaken by Col. Pinckney, an aide-de-camp of the commander- 
 in-chief, ordering him to occupy this position and protect the retreat 
 of the army. The orders were implicitly obeyed. W^eedon's 
 brigade was drawn up in a narrow defile, flanked on both sides by 
 woods, and perfectly commanding the road ; while Greene, with 
 Muhlenberg's brigade, passing to the right took his station on the 
 road. The British came on impetuously, expecting but faint oppo- 
 sition. They met with a desperate resistance and were repeatedly 
 driven back. It was the bloody conflict of the bayonet ; deadly on 
 either side, and lasting for a considerable time. Weedon's bri- 
 gade on the left maintained its stand also with great obstinacy, and 
 the check given to the enemy by these two brigades, allowed time 
 for the broken troops to retreat. Greene gradually drew off the 
 whole division in face of the enemy, who, checked by this vig- 
 orous resistance, and seeing the day far spent," gave up all further 
 pursuit. The brave stand made by these brigades had, likewise, 
 been a great protection to Wayne. He had for a long time with- 
 stood the attacks of the enemy at Chadd's Ford, until the approach 
 on the right of some of the enemy's troops, who had been entangled 
 in the woods, showed him that the right wing had been routed. 
 He now gave up the defence cf his post, and retreated by the 
 Chester road. Knyphausen's troops were too fatigued to pursue 
 him ; and the others had been kept back, as we have shown, by 
 Greene's division. So ended the varied conflict of the day. 
 
 The scene of this battle, which decided the fate of Philadelphia, 
 -was within six and twenty miles of that city, and each discharge of 
 cannon could be heard there. The two parties of the inhabitants, 
 whig and tory, were to be seen in separate groups in the squares 
 and public places, waiting the event in anxious silence. At length 
 a co'jrcr arrived. His tidings spread consternation among the 
 friends of liberty. IVIany left their homes ; entire families aband- 
 
1777.] COJVGRESS LEA VES PHILADELPHfA. 343 
 
 oned everything in terror and despair, and took refuge in the 
 mountains. Congress, that same evening, determined to quit the 
 city and repair to Lancaster, whence they subsequently removed to 
 Yorktown. Before leaving Philadelphia, however, they summoned 
 the militia of Pennsylvania and the adjoining States, to join the 
 main army without delay ; and ordered dov;n hfteen hundred Con- 
 tinental troops from Putnam's command on the Hudson. They 
 also clothed Washington with power to suspend officers for misbe- 
 havior ; to fill up all vacancies under the rank of brigadiers ; to 
 take provisions, and other articles necessary for the use of the army, 
 paying or giving certificates for the same ; and to remove, or secure 
 for the benefit of the owners, all goods and effects which might 
 otherwise fall into the hands of the enemy and be serviceable to 
 them. These extraordinary powers were limited to the circum- 
 ference of seventy miles round head-quarters, and were to con- 
 tinue in force sixty days, unless sooner revoked by Congress. 
 
 Notwithstanding the route and precipitate retreat of the Ameri- 
 can army, Sir Wilham Howe did not press the pursuit, but passed 
 the night on the field of battle, and remained the two following 
 days at Dilworth, sending out detachments to take post at Con- 
 cord and Chester, and seize on Wilmington, whither the sick and 
 wounded were conveyed. Washington, as usual, profited by the 
 inactivity of Howe ; quietly retreating through Derby (on the 12th] 
 across the Schuylkill to Germantown, within a short distance of 
 Philadelphia, where he gave his troops a day's repose. Finding 
 them in good spirits, he resolved to seek the enemy again and give 
 him battle. As preliminary measures, he left some of the Pennsyl- 
 vania militia in Philadelphia to guard the city ; others under Gen. 
 Armstrong, were posted at the various passes of the Schuylkill, 
 with orders to throw up works ; the floating bridge on the lower 
 road was to be unmoored, and the boats collected and taken across 
 the river. Washington recrossed the Schuylkill on the 14th, and 
 advanced along the Lancaster road, with the intention of turning 
 the left flank of the enemy. Howe, apprised of his intention, made 
 a similar disposition to outflank him. The two armies came in 
 sight of each other, near the Warren Tavern, twenty-three miles 
 from Philadelphia, and were on the point of engaging, but were 
 prevented by a violent storm of rain, which lasted for four and 
 twenty hours. This inclement weather was particularly distressing 
 to the Americans, who were scantily clothed, most of them desti- 
 tute of blankets, and separated from their tents and baggage. The 
 rain penetrated their cartridge-boxes and the ill-fitted locks of their 
 muskets, rendering the latter useless, being deficient in bayonets. 
 In this plight, Washington gave up for the present all thought of 
 attacking the enemy, as their discipline in the use of the bayonet, 
 with which they were universally furnished, would give them a 
 great superiority in action. The aim, at present, was to get 
 some dry and secure place, where the army might repose and refit. 
 All day, and for a great part of the night, they marched under a 
 cold and pelting Vain, and through deep ana miry roads, to the 
 Yellow Springs, thence to Warwick, on French Creek ; a weary 
 
344 UFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 march in stormy weather for troops destitute of every comfort, and 
 nearly a thousand of them actually barefooted. At Warwick fur- 
 nace, ammunition and a few muskets were obtained, to aid in dis- 
 puting the passage of the Schuylkill, and the advance of the enemy 
 on Philadelphia. From French Creek, Wayne was detached with 
 his division, to get in the rear of the enemy, form a junction with 
 Gen. Smalhvood and the Maryland militia, and, keeping them- 
 selves concealed, watch for an opportunity to cut off Howe's bag- 
 gage and hospital train ; in the meantime Washington crossed the 
 Schuylkill at Parker's Ford, and took a position to defend that pass 
 of the river. Wayne set off in the night, and, by a circuitous 
 march, got within three miles of the left wing of the British en- 
 camped at Tredyffrin, and concealing himself in a wood, waited 
 the arrival of Smalhvood and his militia. At daybreak he recon- 
 noitered the camp, where Howe, checked by the severity of the 
 weather, had contented himself with uniting his columns. All day 
 Wayne hovered about the camp; there were no signs of marching; 
 all kept quiet, but lay too compact to be attacked with prudence. 
 Wayne was in a part of the country full of the disaffected, and Sir 
 W^illiam had received accurate information of his force and where 
 he was encamped. Gen. Grey, with a strong detachment, was 
 sent to surprise him at night in his lair. At eleven o'clock the pick- 
 ets were driven in at the point of the bayonet — the enemy were 
 advancing in column. Wayne instantly took post on the right 
 of his position, to cover the retreat of the left, led by Col, Humpton, 
 the second in command. The latter was tardy, and incautiously 
 paraded his troops in front of their fires, so as to be in full relief. 
 The enemy rushed on without firing a gun ; all was the silent but 
 deadly work of the bayonet and the cutlass. Nearly three hundred 
 of Ikimpton's men were killed or wounded, and the rest put to flight. 
 Wayne gave the enemy some well-directed volleys, and then 
 retreating to a small distance, rallied his troops, and prepared for 
 further defence. The British, however, contented themselves with 
 the blow they had given, and retired with very little loss, taking 
 with them seventy or eighty prisoners, several of them officers, and 
 eight baggage wagons, heavily laden. 
 
 On the 2 1 St, Howe made a rapid march high up the Schuylkill, 
 on the road leading to Reading, as if he intended either to cap- 
 ture the military stores deposited there, or to turn the right of the 
 American army. Washington kept pace with him on the opposite 
 side of the river, up to Pott's Grove, about thirty miles from Phila- 
 delphia. No sooner had he drawn Washington so far up the river, 
 than, by a rapid counter-march on the night of the 22d, he got to 
 the ford below, threw his troops across on the next morning, and 
 pushed forward for Philadelphia. By the time Washington was 
 apprised of this counter-movement, Howe was too far on his way 
 to be overtaken by harassed, barefooted troops, worn out by con- 
 stant marching. Feeling the necessity of immediate reinforce- 
 ments, he wrote on the same day to Putnam at Peekskill to detach 
 as many effective rank and file, under proper generals and officers. 
 
1777'] PROGRESS OF BURGOYNE. 345 
 
 as will make the whole number, including those with General 
 McDougall, amount to twenty-five hundred fit for duty. 
 
 Howe halted at Germantown, within a short distance of Philadel- 
 phia, and encamped the main body of his army in and about that 
 village ; detaching Lord Cornwallis with a large force and a num- 
 ber of officers of distinction, to take formal possession of the city. 
 That General marched into Philadelphia on the 26th, with a bril- 
 liant staff and escort, and followed by splendi.l legions of Brit- 
 ish and Hessian grenadiers, long trains of artillery and squadrons 
 of light-dragoons, the finest troops in the army all in their best 
 array; stepping to the swelHng music of the band playing God 
 Save the King, and presenting with their scarlet uniforms, their 
 glittering arms and flaunting feathers, a striking contrast to the 
 poor patriot troops, who had recently passed through the same 
 streets, weary and way-worn, and happy if they could cover their 
 raggedness with a brown linen hunting-frock, and decorate their 
 caps with a sprig of evergreen. In this way the British took pos- 
 session of the city, so long the object of their awkward attempts, 
 and regarded by them as a triumphant acquisition ; having been 
 the seat of the general government; the capital of the confed- 
 eracy. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PROGRESS OF BURGOYNE — HIS SURRENDER. 
 
 The checks Burgoyne had received on right and left, and in a 
 great measure, through the spontaneous rising of the country, had 
 opened his eyes to the difficulties of his situation, and the errors 
 as to public feeling into which he had been led by his tory coun- 
 selors. His orders, however, were positive to force a junction with 
 Sir William Howe. He did not feel at liberty, therefore, to remain 
 inactive longer than would be necessary to receive the reinforce- 
 ments of the additional companies, the German drafts and recruits 
 actually on Lake Champlain, and to collect provisions enough for 
 twenty-five days. These reinforcements were indispensable, 
 because from the hour he should pass the Hudson River and 
 proceed toward Albany, all safety of communication would 
 cease. 
 
 A feature of peculiar interest is given to this wild and rugged 
 expedition, by the presence of two ladies of rank and refinement, 
 involved in its perils and hardships. One was Lady Harriet Ack- 
 land, daughter of the Earl of Ilchester, and wife of Major 
 Ackland of the grenadiers; the other was the Baroness De Riede- 
 sel, wife of the Hessian major-general. Both of these ladies had* 
 been left behind in Canada. Lady Harriet, however, on hearing 
 that her husband was wounded in the affair at Hubbardton, 
 instantly set out to rejoin him, regardless of danger, and of her 
 being in a condition before long to become a mother. Crossing 
 
346 LIFE or WASHINGTON. 
 
 the Avhole length of Lake Champlain, she found him in a sick bed 
 at Skenesborough. After his recovery, she refused to leave him, 
 but had continued with the amny ever since. Her example had 
 been imitated by the Baroness De Riedesel, who had joined the 
 army at Fort Edward, bringing with her her three small children. 
 The friendship and sympathy of these two ladies in all scenes of 
 trial and suffering, and their devoted attachment to their husbands, 
 afford touching episodes in the story of the campaign. When the 
 army was on the march, they followed a little distance in the rear. 
 Lady Harriet in a two-wheeled tumbril, the Baroness in a calash, 
 capable of holding herself, her children, and two servants. 
 
 The American army had received various reinforcements: the 
 most efficient was Morgan's corps of riflemen, sent by Washing- 
 ton. He had also furnished it with artillery. It was now about 
 ten thousand strong. Schuyler, finding himself and his proffered 
 services slighted by Gates, had returned to Albany. His patriot- 
 ism was superior to personal resentments. He still continued to 
 promote the success of the campaign, exerting his influence over 
 the Indian tribes, to win them from the enemy. At Albany he 
 held talks and war feasts with deputations of Oneida, Tuscarora, 
 and Onondaga warriors; and procured scouting parties of them, 
 which he sent to the camp, and which proved of great service. 
 
 The dense forest which covered the country between the hostile 
 armies, concealed their movements, and as Gates threw out no 
 harassing parlies, his information concerning the enemy was vague. 
 Burgoyne, however, was diligently collecting all his forces from 
 Skenesborough, Fort Anne and Fort George, and collecting pro- 
 visions ; he had completed a bridge by which he intended to pass 
 the Hudson, and force his way to Albany, where he expected 
 cooperation from below. Everything was conducted with as much 
 silence and caution as possible. His troops paraded without beat 
 of drum, and evening guns were discontinued. Arnold, in com- 
 pany with Kosciuszko, the Polish engineer, reconnoitered the 
 neighborhood in quest of a good camping-ground, and at 
 length fixed upon a ridge of hills called Bemis's Heights, which 
 Kosciuszko proceeded to fortify. In the meantime. Col. Colburn 
 was sent off with a small party to ascend the high hills on the east 
 side of the Hudson, and watch the movements of the enemy with 
 glasses from their summits, or from the tops of the trees. On Sept. 
 nth there were the first signs of movement among Burgoyne's 
 troops. On the 12th and 14th, they slowly passed over a bridge 
 of boats, \vhich they had thrown across the Hudson, and 
 encamped near Fish Creek. Colburn counted eight hundred 
 tents, including marquees. A mile in advance were fourteen more 
 tents. The Hessians remained encamped on the eastern side of 
 the river, but intervening woods concealed the number of their 
 tents. There was not the usual stir of military animation in the 
 camps. There were no evening or morning guns. On the 15th, 
 both the English and Hessian camps struck their tents, and loaded 
 their baggage wagons. By twelve o'clock both began to march. 
 The British made their way slowly and laboriously down the west- 
 
1 771-1 T^E BRITISH ARMY HARASSED. 347 
 
 em side of the river, along a wretched road intersected by brooks 
 and rivulets, the bridges over u-hich Schuyler had broken down. 
 The division had with it eighty-five baggage wagons and a great 
 train of artillery; with two unwieldy twenty-four pounders, acting 
 like drag anchors. It was a silent, dogged march, without a beat 
 of drum, or spirit-stiring bray of trumpet. A body of light troops, 
 new levies, and Indians, painted and decorated for war, struck off 
 from the rest and disappeared in the forest, up Fish Creek. From 
 the great silence observed by Burgoyne in his movements, and the 
 care he took in keeping his men together, and allowing no strag- 
 gling parties, Col. Colburn apprehended that he meditated an 
 attack. Having seen the army advance two miles on its march, 
 therefore, he descended from the heights, and hastened to the 
 American camp to make his report. A British prisoner, brought 
 in soon afterward, stated that Burgoyne had come to a halt about 
 four miles distant. On the following morning, the army was under 
 arms at daylight ; the enemy, however, remained encamped, 
 repairing bridges in front, and sending down guard boats to recon- 
 noiter ; the Americans, therefore, went on to fortify their position. 
 The ridge of hills called Bemis's Heights, rises abruptly from the 
 narrow flat bordering the west side of the river. Kosciuszko had 
 fortified the camp with intrenchments three-quarters of a mile in 
 extent, having redoubts and batteries, which commanded the val- 
 ley, and even the hills on the opposite side of the river; for the 
 Hudson, in this upper part, is comparatively a naiTOw stream. 
 From the foot of the height, an intrenchment extended to the 
 river, ending with a battery at the water edge, commanding a 
 floating bridge. The right wing of the army, under the immediate 
 command of Gates, and composed of Glover's, Nixon's, and Pat- 
 terson's brigades, occupied the brow of the hill nearest to the 
 river, with the flats below. The left wing, commanded by Arnold, 
 was on the side of the camp furthest from the river, and distant 
 from the latter about three-quarters of a mile. It was composed 
 of the New Hampshire brigade of Gen. Poor, Pierre Nan Court- 
 landt's and James Livingston's regiments of New York militia, the 
 Connecticut militia, Morgan's riflemen, and Dearborn's infantry. 
 The centre was composed of Massachusetts and New York troops. 
 Burgoyne gradually drew nearer to the camp, throwing out large 
 parties of pioneers and workmen. The Americans disputed every 
 step. A Hessian officer observes: "The enemy bristled up his 
 hair, as we attempted to repair more bridges. At last, we had to 
 do him the honor of sending out whole regiments to protect our 
 workmen." It was Arnold who provoked this honor. At the head 
 of fifteen hundred men he skirmished bravely with the superior 
 force sent out against him, and retired with several prisoners. 
 
 Burgoyne now encamped about two miles from Gen. Gates, dis- 
 posing his army into two lines; the left on the river, the right 
 extending at right angles to it, about six hundred yards, across the 
 low grounds to a range of steep and rocky hills, occupied by the 
 elite; a ravine formed by a rivulet from the hills passed in front of 
 the camp. The low ground between the armies was cultivated. 
 
348 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, . 
 
 the hills were covered with woods, excepting three or four small 
 openings and deserted farms. Beside the ravines wliich fronted 
 each camp there was a third one, midway between them, also at 
 right angles to the river. On the morning of the I9lh, Gen. 
 Gates received intelligence that the enemy were advancing in 
 great force on his left. It was, in fact, their right wing, composed 
 of the British hne and led by Burgoyne in person. It was cov- 
 ered by the grenadiers and light-infantry under Gen. Fraser and 
 Col. Breyman, who kept along the high grounds on the right; 
 while they, in turn, were covered in front and on the flanks by 
 Indians, provincial royalists and Canadians. The left wing and 
 artillery were advancing at the same time, under Major-Generals 
 Phillips and Riedescl, along the great road and meadows by the 
 liver side, but they were retarded by the necessity of repairing 
 broken bridges. It was the plan of Burgoyne, that the Canadians 
 and Indians should attack the central outposts of the Americans, 
 and draw their attention in that direction, while he and Fraser, 
 making a circuit through the woods, should join forces and fall 
 upon the rear of the American camp. 
 
 The American pickets, stationed along the ravine of IVIill Creek, 
 sent repeated accounts to Gen. Gates of the movements of the 
 enemy ; but he remained quiet in his camp as if determined to 
 await an attack. The American officers grew impatient. Arnold 
 especially, impetuous by nature, urged repeatedly that a detach- 
 ment should be sent forth to check the enemy in their advance, 
 and drive the Indians out of the woods. At length he succeeded 
 in getting permission, about noon, to detach Morgan with his ritle- 
 irien and Dearborn with his infantry from his division. They soon 
 fell in with the Canadians and Indians, which formed the advance 
 guard of the enemy's right, and attacking them with spirit, drove 
 them in or rather dispersed them. Morgan's riflemen, following 
 up their advantage with too much eagerness, became hkcwise scat- 
 tered, and a strong reinforcement of royalists arriving on the scene 
 of action, the Americans, in their turn, were obliged to give way. 
 Other detachments now arrived from the American camp, led by 
 Arnold, who attacked Fraser on his right, to check his attempt to 
 get in the rear of the camp. Finding the position of Fraser too 
 strong to be forced, he sent to headquarters for reinforcements, 
 but they were refused by Gates, who declared that no more should 
 go; "he would not suffer his camp to be exposed." Arnold now 
 made a rapid counter-march, and his movement being masked by 
 the woods, suddenly attempted to turn Fraser' s left. Here he 
 came in full conflict with the British line, and threw himself upon it 
 with a boldness and impetuosity that for a time threatened to break 
 it, and cut the wings of the army asunder. The grenadiers and 
 Breyman' s riflemen hastened to its support. Gen. Phillips broke 
 his way through the woods with four pieces of artillery, and Riede- 
 sel came on with his heavy dragoons. Reinforcements came like- 
 wise to Arnold's assistance; his force, however, never exceeded 
 three thousand men, and with these, for nearly four hours, he kept 
 up a conflict almost hand to hand, with the whole right wing of the 
 
1 7 77- ] nXDIANS A VOID B USH FIGHTERS. 349 
 
 British army. Part of the time the Americans had the advantage 
 of fighting under the cover of a wood, so favorable to their mihtia 
 and sharpshooters. Burgoyne ordered the woods to be cleared by 
 the bayonet. His troops rushed forward in columns with a hur- 
 rah! The Americans kept within their intrenchments, and repeat- 
 edly repulsed them ; but, if they pursued their advantage, and 
 advanced into open field, they were in their turn driven back. 
 Night alone put an end to a conflict, which the British acknowl- 
 edged to have been the most obstinate and hardly fought tliey had 
 ever experienced in America. ]ioth parties claimed the victory. 
 The British remained on the field of battle, where they lay all 
 night upon their arms, but they had failed in their object ; had 
 been assailed instead of being the assailants; while the American 
 troops had accomplished the purpose for which they had sallied 
 forth; had checked the advance of the enemy, frustrated their 
 plan of attack, and returned exulting to their camp. Their loss, 
 in killed and wounded, was between three and four hundred, 
 including several officers ; that of the enemy upward of five 
 hundred. 
 
 Arnold was excessively indignant at Gate's withholding the 
 reinforcements he had required in the heat of the action; had they 
 been furnished, he said, he might have severed the line of the 
 enemy and gained a complete victory. He was urgent to resume 
 the action on the succeeding morning and follow up the advantage 
 he had gained, but Gates declined, to his additional annoyance. 
 He attributed the refusal to pique or jealousy, but Gates subse- 
 quently gave as a reason the great deficiency of powder and ball 
 in the camp, which was known only to himself, and which he 
 kept secret until a supply was sent from Albany. Burgoyne now 
 strengthened his position with intrenchments and batteries, part 
 of them across the meadows which bordered the river, part on the 
 brow of the heights which commanded them. The Americans 
 likewise extended and strengthened their line of breastworks on 
 the left of the camp ; the right was already unassailable. The 
 camps were within gunshot, but with ravines and woods between 
 them. 
 
 Washington's predictions of the effect to be produced by- 
 Morgan's riflemen approached fulfillment. The Indians, dismayed 
 at the severe treatment experienced from these veteran bush 
 fighters, were disappearing from the British camp. The Canadians 
 and royal provincials, "mere trimmers," as Burgoyne called 
 them, were deserting in great numbers, and he had no confidence 
 in those who remained. His situation was growing more and 
 more critical. On ths 21st, he heard shouts in the American camp, 
 and in a little while their cannon thundered a feu de joie. News 
 had been received from General Lincoln, that a detachment of 
 New England troops under Colonel Brown had surprised the car- 
 rying-place, mills, and French hnes at Ticonderoga, captured an 
 anned sloop, gunboats and bateaux, made three hundred prisoners, 
 beside releasing one hundred American captives, and were laying 
 siege to Fort Independence. While the shouts from the American 
 
350 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 camp were yet ringing in his ears, came a letter in cipher from Sir 
 Henry CHnton, dated the 12th of September, announcing his inten- 
 tion in about ten days to attack the forts in the Highlands of the 
 Hudson. 
 
 The jealousy of Gates had been intensely excited at finding the 
 whole credit of the late affair given by the anny to Arnold : in his 
 dispatches to the government he made no mention of him. This 
 increased the schism between them. Wilkinson, the adjutant-gen- 
 eral, who was a sycophantic adherent of Gates, pandered to his 
 pique by withdrawing from Arnold's division Morgan's rifle corps 
 and Dearborn's light-infantry, its arm of strength, which had done 
 such brilliant service in the late aflair : they were henceforth to be 
 subject to no order but those from headquarters, Arnold called 
 on Gates on the evening of the 22d, to remonstrate. High words 
 passed between them, and matters came to an open rupture. 
 Gates, in his heat, told Arnold that he did not consider him a 
 major-general, he having sent his resignation to Congress — that he 
 had never given him the command of any division of the army — 
 that General Lincoln would arrive in a day or two, and then he 
 would have no further occasion for him, and would give him a pass 
 to go to Philadelphia, whenever he chose. Arnold returned to his 
 quarters in a rage, but deteniiined to remain in camp and abide 
 the anticipated battle. Lincoln, in the meantime, arrived in 
 advance of his troops ; which soon followed to the amount of two 
 thousand. Part of the troops, detached by him under Colonel 
 Brown, were besieging Ticonderoga and Fort Independence. 
 Colonel Brown himself, with part of his detachment, had embarked 
 on Lake George in an armed schooner and a squadron of captured 
 gunboats and bateaux, and was threatening the enemy's deposit 
 cf baggage and heavy artillery at 13iamond Island. The toils so 
 skillfully spread were encompassing Burgoyne more and more ; the 
 f^ntes of Canada were closing behind him. A morning or two after 
 Lincoln's arrival, Arnold observed him giving some directions in 
 the left division, and quickly inquired whether he was doing so by 
 order of General Gates ; being answered in the negative, he ob- 
 served that the left division belonged to him ; and that he believed 
 his (Lincoln's) proper station was on the right, and that of General 
 Gates ought to be in the center. lie requested him to mention this 
 to General Gates, and have the matter adjusted. 
 
 All this time the Americans were harassing the British camp 
 Vv ith frequent night alanns and attacks on its pickets and outposts. 
 "From the 20th of September to the 7th of October," writes Bur- 
 goyne, "the armies were so near, that net a night passed without 
 firing, and sometimes concerted attacks upon our advanced pick- 
 ets. I do not believe cither cfiiccr or soldier ever slept in that 
 interval without liis clothes ; or that any general officer or com- 
 mander of a regiment passed a single night, without being upon his 
 legs Occasionally at different hours, and constantly an hour before 
 daylight." Still Burgoyne kept up a resolute mien, telling his sol- 
 diers, in a harangue, that he v/as determined to leave his bones on 
 the field, or force h-is way to Albany. He yet clung to the hope, 
 
1777.] MOVEMENTS OF CLINTON. 351 
 
 that Sir Henry Clinton might operate in time to relieve him from 
 his perilous position. 
 
 The expedition of Sir Henry Clinton had awaited the arrival of 
 reinforcements from Europe, which were slowly crossing the ocean 
 in Dutch bottoms. At length they arrived, after a three months* 
 voyage, and now there was a stir of warlike preparation at New 
 York ; the streets were full of soldiery, the bay full of ships ; and 
 water craft of all kinds were plying about the harbor. Between 
 three and four thousand men were to be embarked on board of 
 ships of Avar, armed galleys and flat-bottomed boats. The de- 
 fences of the Highlands, on which the security of the Hudson de- 
 pended, were at this time weakly garrisoned; some of the troops 
 having been sent off to reinforce the armies on the Delaware and 
 in the North. Putnam, who had the general command of the 
 Highlands, had but eleven hundred continental and four hundred 
 mihtia troops with him at Peekskill, his headquarters. There was 
 a feeble garrison at Fort Independence, in the vicinity of Peekskill, 
 to guard the public stores and workshops at Continental A'^illage. 
 The Highlands forts, Clinton, Montgomery, and Constitution, sit- 
 uated among the mountains and forming their main defence, were 
 no better garrisoned, and George Clinton, who had the command 
 of them, was absent from his post, attending the State Legislature 
 at Kingston (Esopus), in Ulster County, in his capacity of gov- 
 ernor. The governor forthwith hastened to his Highland citadel. 
 Fort Montgomery ; the obstructions of chain, boom, and chevaux- 
 de-frise between it and the opposite promontory of Anthony's 
 Nose, would it had been hoped, barricade the Hudson. The chain 
 had repeatedly given way under the presure of the tide, but the 
 obstructions were still considered efficient, and were protected by 
 the guns of the fort, and of two frigates and two armed galleys 
 anchored above. Fort Clinton had subsequently been erected 
 within rifle shot of Fort Montgomery, to occupy ground which 
 commanded it. A deep ravine and stream called Peploep's Kill, 
 intervened between the two forts, across which there was a bridge. 
 The governor had his headquarters in Fort Montgomery, which 
 was the northern and largest fort, but its works were unfinished. 
 His brother James had charge of Fort Clinton, which was com- 
 plete. The whole force to garrison the associate forts did not 
 exceed six hundred men, chiefly militia, but they had the veteran 
 Colonel Lamb of the artillery with them, who had served in Can- 
 ada, and a company of his artillerists was distributed in the two 
 forts. The armament of Sir Henry Clinton, which had been wait- 
 ing for a wind, set sail in the course of a day or two and stood up 
 the Hudson, dogged by American swift-rowing whale-boats. The 
 armament crossed the Tappan Sea and Haverstraw Bay to Ver- 
 planck's Point, where, on the 5th, Sir Henry landed with three 
 thousand men about eight miles below Peekskill. Putnam drew 
 back to the hills in the rear of the village, to prepare for the 
 expected attack, and sent off to Governor Clinton for all the troops 
 he could spare. So far the maneuvers of Sir Henry Clinton had 
 been successful. It was his plan to threaten an attack on Peekskill 
 
352 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and Fort Independence, and, when he had drawn the attention 
 of the American commanders to that quarter, to land troops on the 
 western shore of the Hudson, below the Dunderberg (Thunder 
 Hill), make a rapid march through the defiles behind that moun- 
 tain to the rear of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, come down on 
 them by surprise, and carry them by a coup de main. At an early 
 hour of the following morning, taking advantage of a thick fog, he 
 crossed with two thousand men to Stony Point, on the west shore 
 of the river, leaving about a thousand men, chiefly royalists, at 
 Verplanck's Point, to keep up a threatening aspect towards Peeks- 
 kill. The crossing of the troops had been dimly descried from 
 Peekskill, but they were supposed to be a mere detachment from 
 the main body on a maraud. Having accomplished his landing, 
 bir Henry, conducted by a tory guide, set out on a forced and cir- 
 cuitous march of several miles by rugged defiles, round the west- 
 ern base of the Dunderberg. At the entrance of the pass he left 
 a small force to guard it, and keep up his communication with the 
 ships. By eight o'clock in the morning he had effected his march 
 round the Dunderberg, and halted on the northern side in a ravine, 
 between it and a conical mount called Bear Hill. The possibility 
 of an enemy's approach by this pass had been noticed by Wash- 
 ington in reconnoitcring the Highlands, and he had mentioned it 
 in his instructions to (ienerals Greene and Knox, when they were 
 sent to make their military survey, but they considered it imprac- 
 ticable, from the extreme difficulty of the mountain passes. It is 
 in defiance of difficulties, however, that surprises are apt to be 
 attempted, and the most signal have been achieved in the face of 
 seeming impossibilities. In the ravine between the Dunderberg 
 and Bear Hill, Sir Henry divided his forces. One division, nine 
 hundred strong, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, was composed 
 partly of royaiists, led by Colonel Beverly Robinson of New York, 
 partly of Emerick's chasseurs, and partly of grenadiers, under 
 Lord Rawdon, then about twenty-four years of age, who had 
 already seen service at Bunker's Hill. With him went Count 
 Gabrouski,a Polish nobleman, aide-de-camp to Sir Henry Clinton. 
 Kverything had thus far been condijcted with celerity and appar- 
 ent secrecy, and complete surprise of both forts was anticipated. 
 Sir Henry had indeed, outwitted one of the guardians of the High- 
 lands, but the other was aware of his designs. Governor Clinton, 
 on receiving intelligence of ships of war coming up the Hudson, 
 had sent scouts beyond the Dunderberg to watch their movements. 
 He apprehended an attack, and sent to Putnam for reinforcements, 
 preparing, in the meantime, to make such defence as his scanty 
 means afforded. A lieutenant was sent out with thirty men from 
 Fort Clinton, to proceed along the river-road and reconnoiter. He 
 fell in with the advance-guard of Sir Henry Clinton's division, and 
 retreated skirmishing to the fort. A large detachment was sent 
 out to check the approach of the enemy on this side ; while sixty 
 men, afterwards increased to a hundred, took post with a brass 
 field-piece in the Bear Hill defile. It was a narrow and rugged 
 pass, bordered by shagged forests. As Campbell and his division 
 
1777.] FORTS MONTGOMERY AND CLINTON. 353 
 
 came pressing forward, they were checked by the discharge of fire- 
 arms and of the brass field-piece, which swept the steep defile. 
 The British troops then filed off on each side into the woods, to 
 surround the Americans. The latter, finding it impossible to extri- 
 cate their field-piece in the rugged pass, spiked it, and retreated 
 into the fort, under cover of the fire of a twelve-pounder, with 
 which Laml) had posted himself on the crest of a hill. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton had met with equally obstinate opposition in 
 his approach to Fort Clinton ; the narrow strip of land between 
 Lake Sinipink and the Hudson, along which he advanced, being 
 fortified by an abatis. By four o'clock the Americans were 
 driven within their works, and both forts were assailed. The de- 
 fence was desperate ; for Governor Chnton was a haixi fighter, 
 and he was still in hopes of reinforcements from Putnam ; not 
 knowing that the messenger he sent to him had turned traitor, and 
 deserted to the enemy. About five o'clock, he was summoned to 
 surrender in five minutes, to prevent the effusion of blood : the 
 the reply was a refusal. About ten minutes afterwards, there was 
 a general attack upon both forts. It was resisted with obstinate 
 spirit. The action continued until dusk. The ships under CorH- 
 modore Hotham approached near enough to open an irregular fire 
 upon the forts, and upon the vessels anchored above thechevawx- 
 de-frise. The latter returned the fire ; and the flash and roar of 
 their cannonry in the gathering darkness and among the echoes of 
 the mountains increased the terrors of the strife. The works, how- 
 ever, were too extensive to be manned by the scanty garrisons ; 
 they were entered by different places and carried at the point of 
 the bayonet ; the Americans fought desperately from one redoubt 
 to another ; some were slain, some taken prisoners, and some 
 escaped under cover of the night to the river or the mountaiins. 
 "The garrison," writes Chnton, significantly, "had to fight their 
 way out as many as could, as we determined not to surren- 
 der." His brother James was saved from a deadly thrust of a bay- 
 onent, by a garrison orderly-book in his pocket ; but he received a 
 flesh-wound in the thigh. He shd down a precipice, one hundred 
 feet high, into the ravine between the forts, and escaped to the 
 woods. The governor leaped down the rocks to the river side, 
 where a boat was putting off with a number of the fugitives. They 
 turned back to receive him, but he generously refused to endanger 
 their safety, as the boat was already loaded to the gunwale. It 
 was only on receiving assurance of its being capable of bearing 
 his additional weight, that he consented to enter. The boat 
 crossed the Hudson in safety, and before midnight the governor 
 was with Putnam, at Continental Village, concerting further 
 measures. 
 
 Putnam had been completely outmaneuverd by Sir Henry Cli^n- 
 ton. He had continued until late in the morning, in the belief that 
 Peekskill and Fort Independence were to be the objects of attack. 
 His pickets and scouts could not ascertain the number of the 
 enemy remaining on the east side of the river ; a large fire near Stony 
 Point made him think the troops which had crossed were merely 
 12 
 
354 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 burning storehouses ; while ships, galleys, and flat-bottomed boats 
 seemed preparing to land forces at Fort Independence and Peeks- 
 kill. In the course of the morning he sallied forth with Brigadier- 
 general Parsons, to reconnoiter the ground near the enemy. After 
 their return they were alarmed, he says, by "a very heavy and 
 hot firing both of small arms and cannon, at Fort Montgomery," 
 which must have made a tremendous uproar among the echoes of 
 the Dunderberg. Aware of the real point of danger, he immedi- 
 ately detached five hundred men to reinforce the garrison. They 
 had six miles to march along the eastern shore, and then to cross 
 the river ; before they could do so the fate of the forts was decided. 
 
 On the capture of the forts, the American frigates and galleys 
 stationed for the protection of the chcvaux-de-frise slipped their 
 cables, made all sail, and endeavored to escape up the river. The 
 wind, however, proved adverse ; there was danger of their falling 
 into the hands of the enemy; the crews, therefore, set them on 
 fire and abandoned them. As every sail was set, the vessels were 
 soon "magnificent pyramids of fire ;" the surrounding mountains 
 were lit up by the glare, and a train of ruddy light gleamed along 
 the river. They were in a part of the Highlands famous for its 
 echoes : as the flames gradually reached the loaded cannon, their 
 thundering reports were multiplied and prolonged along the rocky 
 shores. The vessels at length blew up with tremendous explosions, 
 and all again was darkness. On the following morning, the 
 chevaux-de-frise and other obstructions between Fort Montgomery 
 and Anthony's Nose were cleared away ; the Americans evacuated 
 Forts Independence and Constitution, and a free passage up the 
 Hudson was open for the British ships. Sir Henry Clinton pro- 
 ceeded no further in person, but left the rest of the enterprise to 
 be accomplished by Sir James Wallace and General Vaughan, 
 with a flying squadron of light frigates, and a considerable 
 detachment of troops. 
 
 Putnam had retreated to a pass in the mountains, on the east side 
 of the river, near Fishkill, having removed as much of the stores 
 and baggage as possible from the post he had abandoned. He had 
 concerted with Governor Clinton that they should move to the 
 northward with their forces, along the opposite shores of the Hud- 
 son, endeavoring to keep pace with the enemy's ships and cover 
 the country from their attacks. The governor was in the neigh- 
 borhood of New "Windsor, just above the Highlands, where he had 
 posted himself to rally what he termed his " broken but brave 
 troops," and to call out the mihtia of Ulster and Orange. On the 
 9th, two persons coming from Fort Montgomery were arrested by 
 his guards, and brought before him for examination. One was 
 much agitated, and was observed to put something hastily into his 
 mouth and swallow it. An emetic was administered, and brought 
 up a small silver bullet. Before he could be prevented he swal- 
 swallowed it again. A second emetic produced the bullet again. 
 It was oval in fonri, and hollow, with a screAv in the center, and 
 contained a note from Sir Henry Chnton to Burgoyne, written on 
 a shp of tiiin paper, and dated (Oct. 8th) from Fort Montgomery. 
 
I77M BURGOYNE IN THE TOILS. 355 
 
 **Nous y void (here we are), and nothing between us and Gates. 
 I sincerely hope this little success of ours will facilitate your opera- 
 tions." 
 
 The enemy's light-armed vessels were now making their way 
 up the river ; landing marauding parties occasionally to make dep- 
 redations. As soon as the governor could collect a little force, 
 he pressed forward to protect Kingston (Esopus), the seat of the 
 State legislature. The enemy in the meantime landed from their 
 ships, routed about one hundred and fifty militia collected to 
 oppose them, marched to the village, set fire to it in every part, 
 consuming great quantities of stores collected there, and then 
 retreated to their ships. Governor Clinton was two hours too late. 
 He beheld the flames from a distance ; and having brought with 
 him the spy, the bearer of the silver bullet, he hanged him on an 
 apple tree in sight of the burning village. The enemy proceeded 
 in their ravages, destroying the residences of conspicuous patriots 
 at Rhinebeck, Livingston Manor, and elsewhere, and among oth- 
 ers the mansion of the widow of the brave General Montgomery. 
 
 While Sir Henry Clinton had been thundering in the Highlands, 
 Burgoyne and his army had been wearing out hope within their 
 intrenchments, vigilantly watched, but unassailed by the Amer- 
 icans. Arnold, was chafing in the camp, and longing for a 
 chance, as usual, " to right himself" by his sword. In a letter to 
 Gates he tries to goad him on. " I think it my duty (which noth- 
 ing shall deter me from doing) to acquaint you, the army are clam- 
 orous for action. The militia (who compose a great part of the 
 army) are already threatening to go home. One fortnight's inac- 
 tion will, I make no doubt, lessen your army by sickness and 
 desertion, at least four thousand men. In which time the enemy may 
 be reinforced, and make good their retreat." Gates was not to be 
 goaded into action ; he saw the desperate situation of Burgoyne, 
 and bided his time. "Perhaps," writes he, "despair may dictate 
 to him to risk all upon one throw ; he is an old gamester, and in 
 his time has seen all chances. I will endeavor to be ready to pre- 
 vent his good fortune, and, if possible, secure my own." 
 
 On the 7th of October, but four or five days remained of the 
 time Burgoyne had pledged himself to await the cooperation of 
 Sir Henr>' Clinton. He now determined to make a grand move- 
 ment on the left of the American camp, to discover whether he 
 could force a passage, should it be necessary to advance, or dis- 
 lodge it from its position, should he have to retreat. Another 
 object was to cover a forage of the army, which was suffering from 
 the great scarcity. For this purpose fifteen hundred of his best 
 troops, with two twelve-pounders, two howitzers and six six-pounders, 
 were to be led by himself, seconded by Major-generals Phillips and 
 Riedesel, and Brigadier-general Fraser. On leaving his camp, 
 Burgoyne committed the guard of it on the high grounds to Briga- 
 dier-generals Hamilton and Specht, and of the redoubts on the 
 low grounds near the river, to Brigadier-general Gall. Forming 
 his troops within three-quarters of a mile of the left of the Amer- 
 icans, though covered from their sight by the forest, he sent out a 
 
356 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 corps of rangers, provincials and Indians, to skulk throti<;h the 
 woods, get in their rear, and give them an alarm at the time the 
 attack took place in front. The movement, though earned on 
 behind the screen of forests, was discovered. In tlie afternoon 
 the advanced guard of tlie American center beattoanns: the 
 alarm was repeated throughout the line. Gates ordered his officers 
 to their alarm posts, and sent fortli Wilkinson, the adjutant-general, 
 to inquire the cause. From a rising ground in an open place he 
 descried the enemy in force, their foragers busy in a field of wheat, 
 the officers reconnoitering the left wing of the camp with telescopes 
 from the top of a cabin. Wilkinson reported that their front was 
 open, their flanks rested on woods, under cover of which they 
 might be attacked, and their right was skirted by a height ; that 
 they were reconnoitering the left, and he thought offered battle. 
 "Well, then," replied Gates, "order out Morgan to begin the 
 game." A plan of attack was soon arranged. Morgan with his 
 riflemen and a body of infantry was sent to make a circuit through 
 the woods, and get possession of the heights on the right of the 
 enemy, while General Poor with his brigade of New York and New 
 Hampshire troops, and a part of Learned' s brigade, were to 
 advance against the enemy's left. Morgan was to make an attack 
 on the heights as soon as he should hear the fire opened below. 
 Burgoyne now drew out his troops in battle array. The grenadiers, 
 under Major Ackland, with the artillery, under Major Williams, 
 formed his left, and were stationed on a rising ground, with a rivu- 
 let called Mill Creek in front. Next to them were the Hessians, 
 under Riedesel, and British, under Phillips, forming the center. 
 The light-infantry, under Lord Balcarras, formed tlie extreme 
 right ; having in the advance a detachment of five hundred picked 
 men, under General Fraser, ready to flank the Americans as soon 
 as they should be attacked in front. He had scarce made these 
 arrangements, when he was astonished and confounded by a thun- 
 dering of artillery on his left, and a rattling fire of rifles on the 
 woody heights on his right. The troops under Poor advanced 
 steadily up the ascent where Ackland' s grenadiers and Williams' 
 artillery were stationed; received their fire,. and tlien rushed for- 
 ward. Ackland's grenadiers received the first brunt, but it 
 extended along the line, as detachment after detachment arrived, 
 and was carried on wnth inconceivable fury. The Hessian artiller- 
 ists spoke afterwards of the heedlessness with which the Americans 
 rushed upon the cannon, while they were discharging grape-shot. 
 The artilleiy was repeatedly taken and retaken, and at length 
 remained in possession of the Americans, who turned it upon its 
 former owners. Major Ackland was wounded in both legs, and 
 taken prisoner. Major Williams of the artillery was also captured. 
 The headlong, impetuosity of the attack confounded the regular 
 tacticians. Much of this has been ascribed to the presence and 
 example of Arnold. That daring officer, who had lingered in the 
 camp in expectation of a fight, was exasperated at having no com- 
 mand assigned him. On hearing the din of battle, he could 
 restrain no longer his warlike impulse, but threw himself on his 
 
177/.] BATTLE OF THE SEVENTk OF OCTOBER. 357 
 
 horse and sallied forth. Gates saw him issuing from the camp. 
 "He'll do some rash thing !" cried he, and sent his aide-de-camp. 
 Major Armstrong, to call him back. Arnold surmised his errand 
 and evaded it. Putting spurs to his horse, he dashed into the 
 scene of action, and was received with acclamation. Being the 
 superior officer in the field his orders were obeyed of course. 
 Putting himself at the head of the troops of Learned' s brigade, he 
 attacked the Hessians in the enemy's center, and broke them with 
 repeated charges. Indeed, for a time his actions seemed to par- 
 take of frenzy ; riding hither and thither, brandishing his sword, 
 and cheering on the men to acts of desperation. In one of his 
 paroxysms of excitement, he struck and wounded an American 
 officer in the head with his sword, without, as he afterwards 
 declared, being conscious of the act. Wilkinson asserts that he 
 was partly intoxicated ; but Arnold needed only his own irritated 
 piide and the smell of gunpowder to rouse him to acts of madness. 
 Morgan, in the meantime, was harassing the enemy's right 
 wing with an incessant fire of small-arms, and preventing it from 
 sending any assistance to the center. General Frascr with his 
 chosen corps, for some time rendered great protection to this wing. 
 Mounted on an iron-gray charger, his uniform of a field officer 
 made him a conspicuous object for Morgan's sharp-shooters. One 
 bullet cut the crupper of his horse, another grazed his mane. 
 "You are singled out, general," said his aide-de-camp, "and had 
 better shift your ground." "My duty forbids me to fly from dan- 
 ger," was the reply. A moment afterwards he was shot down by 
 a marksman posted in a tree. Two grenadiers bore him to the 
 camp. His fall was as a death-blow to his corps. The arrival on 
 the field of a large reinforcement of New York troops under Gen- 
 eral Ten Broeck, completed the confusion. Burgoyne saw that 
 the^field was lost, and now only thought of saving his camp. The 
 troops nearest to the lines were ordered to throw themselves within 
 them, while Generals Phillips and Rie(iesel covered the retreat of the 
 main body, which was in danger of being cut off. The artillery 
 was abandoned. Scarcely had they entered the camp when 
 it was stormed with great fury ; the Americans, with Arnold at 
 their head, rushing to the lines under a severe discharge of grape- 
 shot and small-arms. The action was fierce, and well sustained on 
 either side. After an ineffectual attempt to make his way into 
 the camp in this quarter at the point of the bayonet, Arnold 
 spurred his horse toward the right flank of the camp occupied by 
 the German reserve, where Lieut. -Col. Brooks was making a gen- 
 eral attack with a Massachusetts regiment. Here, with a part of 
 a platoon, he forced his way into a sallyport, but a shot from the 
 retreating Hessians killed his horse, and wounded him in the same 
 leg which had received a wound before Quebec. He was borne 
 off from the field, but not until the victory was complete ; for the 
 Germans retreated from the works leaving on the field their brave 
 defender, Lieut. -Col. Breyman, mortally wounded. The victory 
 of the Americans was decisive. They had routed the enemy, 
 killed and wounded a great number, made many prisoners, taken 
 
358 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 their field-artillery, and gained possession of a part of their works 
 which laid open the right and the rear of their camp. They lay 
 all night on their arms, within half a mile of the scene of action, 
 prepared to renew the assault upon the camp in the morning. 
 Afi'ecting scenes had occurred in the enemy's camp during this 
 deadly conflict. The Baroness De Riedesel says, that when one 
 o'clock came "poor Gen. Fraser was brought in upon ahandbarrow, 
 mortally wounded. I sat terrified and trembling in a corner. The 
 noise grew more alanning, and I was in a continual agony and 
 tremor, while thinking that my husband might soon also be brought 
 in, wounded like General Fraser. That poor general said to the 
 surgeon, 'Tell me the truth, is there no hope?' — There was none." 
 Burgoyne had shifted his position during the night, to heights 
 about a mile to the north, close to the river, and covered in front 
 by a ravine. Early in the morning, the Americans took possession 
 of the camp which he had abandoned. A random fire of artillery 
 and small-arms was kept up on both sides during the day. The 
 British sharpshooters stationed in the ravine did some execution, 
 and Gen. Lincoln was wounded in the leg while reconnoitering. 
 Gates took measures to cut off the enemy's retreat and insure a 
 surrender. Gen. Fellows, with 1,400 men, had already been sent 
 to occupy the high ground east of the Hudson opposite Saratoga 
 Ford. Other detachments were sent higher up the river in the 
 direction of Lake George. Burgoyne saw that nothing was left for 
 him but a prompt and rapid retreat to Saratoga. At nine o'clock 
 at night the retreat commenced. Large fires had been lighted, 
 and many tents were left standing to conceal the movement. The 
 hospital, in which were about three hundred sick and wounded, 
 was abandoned, as were likewise several bateaux, laden with bag- 
 gage and provisions. It was a dismal retreat. The rain fell in 
 torrents ; the roads were deep and broken, and the horses weak 
 and half-starved from want of forage. At daybreak there was a 
 halt to refresh the troops, and give time for the bateaux laden with 
 provision to come abreast. In three hours the march was resumed, 
 but before long there was another halt, to guard against an Amer- 
 ican reconnoitering party which appeared in sight. When the 
 troops were again about to march, Gen. Burgoyne received a mes- 
 sage from Lady Harriet Ackland, expressing a wish to pass to the 
 American camp, and ask permission from Gen. Gates to join her 
 husband, who was seriously wounded and a prisoner. "Though 
 I was ready to believe," writes Burgoyne, "(for I had experience), 
 that patience and fortitude, in a supreme degree, were to be found, 
 as well as every other virtue, under the most tender forms, I was 
 astonished at this proposal. Mr. Brudenell, the chaplain of the 
 artillery readily undertook to accompany her, and with one female 
 servant, and the major's valet-de-chambre (who had a ball which 
 he had received in the late action then in his shoulder), she rowed 
 down the river to meet the enemy." The night was far advanced 
 before the boat reached the American outposts. It was challenged 
 by a sentinel who threatened to fire into it should it attempt to 
 pass. Treachery was apprehended. Lady Harriet and her com- 
 
I777.J SURRENDER OF THE BRITISH ARMY, 359 
 
 panions were allowed to land. Major Dearborn, the officer on 
 guard, surrendered his chamber in the guard-house to her lady- 
 ship ; bedding was brought, a fire was made, tea was served, and 
 her mind being relieved by assurances of her husband's safety, 
 she was enabled to pass a night of comparat-ive comfort and 
 tranquility. She proceeded to the American camp in the morning. 
 It rained terribly through the residue of the 9th, and in con- 
 sequence of repeated halts, the retreating army did not reach 
 Saratoga until evening. A detachment of Americans had anived 
 there before them, and were throwing up intrenchments on a 
 commanding height at Fish Kill. They abandoned their work, 
 forded the Hudson, and joined a force under General Fellows, 
 posted on the hills east of the river. The bridge over the Fish 
 Kill had been destroyed ; the artillery could not cross until the 
 ford was examined. Exhausted by fatigue, the men for the most 
 part had not strength nor inclination to cut wood nor make fire, 
 but threw themselves upon the wet ground in their wet clothes, 
 and slept under the continuing rain. At daylight on the loth, 
 the artillery and the last of the troops passed the fords of the 
 Fish Kill, and took a position upon the heights, and in the 
 redoubts formerly constructed there. To protect the troops from 
 being attacked in passing the ford by the Americans, who were 
 approaching, Burgoyne ordered fire to be set to the farm-houses 
 and other buildings on the south side of the Fish Kill. Amongst 
 the rest, the noble mansion of Gen. Schuyler, with storehouses, 
 granaries, mills, and the other appurtenances of a great rural 
 establishment, was entirely consumed. Burgoyne himself esti- 
 mated the value of property destroyed at ten thousand pounds 
 sterling. The force under Gen. Fellows, posted on the opposite 
 hills of the Hudson, now opened a fire from a battery command- 
 ing the ford of that river. Thus prevented from crossing, Bur- 
 goyne thought to retreat along the west side as far as Fort 
 George, on the way to Canada, and sent out workmen under a 
 strong escort to repair the bridges, and open the road toward 
 Fort Edward. The escort was soon recalled and the work aban- 
 doned ; for the Americans under Gates appeared in great force, 
 on the heights south of the Fish Kill, and seemed preparing to 
 cross and bring on an engagement. Burgoyne called now a gen- 
 eral council of war, in whcih it was resolved, since the bridges 
 could not be repaired, to abandon the artillery and baggage, let 
 the troops carry a supply of provisions uix)n their backs, push for- 
 ward in the night, and force their way across the fords at or 
 near Fort Edward. Before the plan could be put in execution, 
 scouts brought word that the Americans were intrenched opposite 
 those fords, and encamped in force with cannon, on the high 
 ground between Fort Edward and Fort George. In fact, by this 
 time the American army, augmented by militia and volunteers from 
 all quarters, had posted itself in strong positions on both sides of 
 the Hudson, so as to extend three-fourths of a circle round the 
 enemy. Giving up all further attempt at retreat, Burgoyne now 
 fortified his camp on the heights to the north of Fish Kill. In 
 
360 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 this situation his troops lay continually on their arms. His camp 
 was subjected to cannonading from Fellows' batteries on the oppo- 
 site side of the Hudson, Gates's batteries on the south of Fish 
 Kill, and a galling fire from Morgan's rifle-men, stationed on 
 heights in the rear. 
 
 The Baroness De Riedesel and her helpless little ones were 
 exposed to the dangers and horrors of this long turmoil. On the 
 morning when the attack was opened, General De Riedesel sent 
 them to take refuge in a house in the vicinity. On their way 
 thither the baroness saw several men on the opposite bank of the 
 Hudson leveUing their muskets and about to fire. Throwing her 
 children in tlie back part of the carriage the anxious mother 
 endeavored to cover them with her body. Some women and 
 crippled soldiers had already taken refuge in the house. It was 
 mistaken for headquarters and cannonaded. The baroness 
 retreated into the cellar, laid herself in a corner near the door with 
 her children's heads upon her knees, and passed a sleepless night 
 cf mental anguish. For six days, she and her children remained 
 in this dismal place of refuge. The cellar was spacious, with 
 three compartments, but the number of occupants increased. 
 The wounded were brought in to be relieved — or to die. She 
 remained with her children near the door, to escape more easily in 
 case of fire. She put straw under mattresses ; on these she lay 
 with her little ones, and her female servants slept near her. There 
 was great distress for water. The river was near, but the Ameri- 
 cans shot every one who approached it. A soldier's wife at length 
 summoned resolution, and brought a supply. "The Americans," 
 adds the baroness, "told us afterwards, that they spared her <?« 
 account of her sex." 
 
 Burgoyne was now reduced to despair. His forces were dimin- 
 ished by losses, by the desertion of Canadians and royalists, and 
 the total defection of the Indians ; and on inspection it was found 
 that the provisions on hand, even upon short allowance, would not 
 suffice for more than three days. A council of war, therefore, was 
 called of all the generals, field-officers and captains commanding 
 troops. The deliberations were brief. All concurred in the neces- 
 sity of opening a treaty with Gen. Gates, for a surrender on hon- 
 orable terms. While they were yet deliberating, an eighteen- 
 pound ball passed through the tent, sweeping across the table 
 round which they were seated. Negotiations were accordingly 
 opened on the 13th, under sanction of a flag. Lieut. Kingston, 
 Burgoyne's adjutant-general, Avas the bearer of a note, proposing 
 a cessation of hostihties until terms could be adjusted. The first 
 terms offered by Gates were that the enemy should lay down their 
 arms within their intrenchments, and surrender themselves prison- 
 ers of war. These were indignantly rejected, with an intimation 
 that, if persisted in, hostilities must recommence. Counter propo- 
 sals were then made by Gen. Burgoyne, and finally accepted by 
 Gen. Gates. According to these, the British troops were to march 
 out of the camp with artillery and all the honors of war, to a fixed 
 place, where they were to pile their arms at a word of command 
 
1777.] HESSIAN DESCRIPTION OF OUR ARMY. 361 
 
 from their own officers. They were to be allowed a free passage 
 to Europe upon condition of not serving again in America, during 
 the present war. The army was not to be separated, esp)ecially 
 the men from the officers ; roll-calling and other regular duties 
 were to be permitted ; the officers were to be on parole, and to 
 wear their side-arms. All private property to be sacred ; no bag- 
 gage to be searched or molested. All persons appertaining to or 
 following the camp, whatever might be their country, were to be 
 comprehended in these terms of capitulation. In the night of the 
 l6th, before the articles of capitulation had been signed, a British 
 officer from the army below made his way into the camp, with 
 despatches from Sir Henry Clinton, announcing that he had cap- 
 tured the forts in the Highlands, and had pushed detachments 
 further up the Hudson. Burgoyne now submitted to the consider- 
 ation of officers, "whether it was consistent with public faith, and 
 if so, expedient, to suspend the execudon of the treaty and trust 
 to events." His own opinion inclined in the affirmative, but the 
 majority of the council determined that the public faith was fully 
 plighted. The capitulation was accordingly signed by Burgoyne 
 on the 17th of October. The British army, at the time of the sur- 
 render, was reduced by capture, death, and desertion, from nine 
 thousand to five thousand seven hundred and fifty-two men. That 
 of Gates, regulars and miUtia, amounted to ten thousand five hun- 
 dred and fifty-four men on duty ; between two and three thousand 
 being on the sick list, or absent on furlough. By this capitulation, 
 the Americans gained a fine train of artillery,tseven thousand stand 
 of arms, and a great quandty of clothing, tents,.and military stores 
 of all kinds. When the Bridsh troops marched forth to deposit 
 their arms at the appointed place, Col. Wilkinson, the adjutant 
 general, was the only American soldier to be seen. Gates had 
 ordered his troops to keep rigidly within their lines, that they 
 might not add by their presence to the humiltation of a brave 
 enemy. 
 
 Wilkinson in his Memoirs, describes the first meeting of Gates 
 and Burgoyne, which took place at the head of the American 
 camp. Tliey were attended by ijieir staffs and by other general 
 officers. Burgoyne was in a rich royal uniform, Gates in a plain 
 blue frock. When they had approached nearly within sword's 
 length they reined up and halted. Burgoyne, raising his hat most 
 gracefully, said : "The fortune of war, Gen. Gates, has made me 
 your prisoner;" to which the other, returning his salute, replied, 
 "I shall always be ready to testify that it has not been through any 
 fault of your excellency." "We passed through the American 
 camp," writes the already cited Hessian officer, " in which all the 
 regiments were drawn out beside the artillery, and stood under 
 arms. Not one of them was uniformly clad ; each had on the 
 clothes which he wore in the fields, the church, or the tavern. 
 They stood, however, like soldiers, well arranged, and with a mil- 
 itary air, in which there was but little to find fault with. All the 
 muskets had bayonets, and the sharpshooters had rifles. The men 
 all stood so still that we were filled with wonder. Not one of them 
 
362 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 made a single motion as if he would speak with his neighbor. Nay 
 more, all the lads that stood there in rank and file, kind nature 
 had formed so trim, so slender, so nervous, that it was a pleasure 
 to look at them, and we all were surprised at the sight of such a 
 handsome, well-formed race. "In all earnestness," adds he, 
 "English America surpasses the most of Europe in the growth and 
 looks of its male population. The whole nation has a natural turn 
 and talent for war and a soldier's life." He made himself some- 
 what merry, however, with the equipments of the officers. A few 
 w ore regimentals ; and those fashioned to their own notions as to 
 cut and color, being provided by themselves. Brown coats with 
 sea-green facings, white linings and silver trimmings, and gray 
 coats in abundance, with buff facings and cuffs, and gilt buttons ; 
 in short, every variety of pattern. The brigadiers and generals 
 v.ore uniforms and belts which designated tlieir rank; but most of 
 llie colonels and other officers were in their ordinary clothes; a 
 musket and bayonet in hand, and a cartridge-box or powder-horn 
 over the shoulder. But what especially amused him was the vari- 
 ety of uncouth wigs worn by the officers ; the lingerings of an 
 uncouth fashion. It was the lot of Burgoyne to have coals of fire 
 heaped on his head by those with whom he had been at enmity. 
 One of the first persons whom he had encountered in the Ameri- 
 can camp was Gen. Schuyler. He attempted to make some expla- 
 nation or excuse about the recent destruction of his property. 
 Schuyler begged him not to think of it, as the occasion justified it, 
 according to the principles and rules of war. "He did more," 
 said Burgoyne, in a speech before the House of Commons : "he 
 sent an aide-de-camp to conduct me to Albany ; in order, as he 
 expressed it, to procure better quarters than a stranger might be 
 able to find. That gentleman conducted me to a very elegant 
 hiOuse, and, to my great surprise, presented me to Mrs. Schuyler 
 and her family. In that house I remained during my whole stay 
 in Albany, with a table of more than twenty covers for me and 
 my friends, and every other demonstration of hospitality." This 
 was indeed realizing the vaunted courtesy and magnanimity of the 
 age of chivalry. The surrender of Burgoyne was soon followed 
 by the evacuation of Ticonderoga and Fort Independence, the 
 garrisons retiring to the Isle aux Noix and St. Johns. The arma- 
 ment on the Hudson returned to New York. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WASHI-HGTON'S campaign — BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 
 
 Washington was encamped at Pott's Grove towards the end of 
 September, giving his troops a few day's repose after their severe 
 fatigues. His force amounted to about eight thousand Continen- 
 tals and three thousand militia; with these he advanced, on the 
 30th of Sept., to Skippack Creek, about fourteen miles from Ger- 
 
I ^7^. J BA TTLE OF GERMAN TO IVN. 363 
 
 mantown, where the main body of the British army lay encamped ; 
 a detachment under CornwalHs occupying Philadelphia. Imme- 
 diately after the battle of Brandywine, Admiral Howe with great 
 exertions had succeeded in getting his ships of war ond transports 
 round from the Chesapeake into the Delaware and anchored them 
 along the western shore from Reedy Island to Newcastle. They 
 were prevented from approaching nearer by obstructions which the 
 Americans had placed in the river. The lowest of these were at 
 BilUngsport (or Bylhng's Point), where chevaux-de-frise in the 
 channel of the river were protected by a strong redoubt on the 
 Jersey shore. Higher up were Fort Mifflin on Mud (or Fort) 
 Island, and Fort Mercer on the Jersey shore ; with chevaux-de- 
 frise between them. Washington had exerted himself to throw a 
 garrison into Fort Mifflin, and keep up the obstructions of the 
 river. General Howe had concerted operations with his brother 
 by land and water, to reduce the forts and clear away the obstruc- 
 tions. With this view he detached a part of his force into the Jer- 
 seys, to proceed, in the first instance, against the fortifications at 
 Billingsport. Washington immediately determined to make an 
 attack upon the British camp at Germantown, while weakened by 
 the absence of this detachment. Germantown, at that time, was 
 little more than one continued street, extending two miles north 
 and south. The houses were mostly of stone, low and substantial, 
 with steep roofs and projecting eaves. They stood apart from 
 each other, with fruit trees in front and small gardens. Beyond 
 the village, and about a hundred yards east of the road, stood a 
 spacious stone edifice, with ornamented grounds, statues, groves 
 and shrubbery, the country-seat of Benjamin Chew, chief justice 
 of Pennsylvania previous to the Revolution. Four roads 
 approached the village from above ; that is, from the north. The 
 Skippack, which was the main road, led over Chestnut Hill and 
 Mount Airy down to and through the village towards Philadelphia, 
 forming the street of which we have just spoken. On its right, 
 and nearly parallel, was the Monatawny or Ridge road, passing 
 near the Schuylkill, and entering the main road below the village. 
 On the left of the Skippack or main road, was the Limekiln road, 
 running nearly parallel to it for a time, and then turning towards 
 it, almost at right angles, so as to enter the village at the market- 
 place. Still further to the left or east, and outside of all, was the 
 Old York road, falling into the main road some distance below the 
 village. 
 
 The main body of the British forces lay encamped across the 
 lower part of the village, divided into almost equal parts by the 
 main street or Skippack road. The right wing, commanded by 
 Gen. Grant, was to the east of the road, the left wing to the west. 
 Each wing was covered by strong detachments, and guarded by 
 cavalry. Gen. Howe had his head-quarters in the rear. The 
 advance of the army, composed of the 2d battalion of British 
 light-infantry, with a train of artillery, was more than two miles 
 from the main body, on the west of the road, with an outlying 
 picket stationed with two six-pounders at Allen's house on Mount 
 
364 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Airy. About three quarters of a mile in the rear of thehght-infan- 
 try, lay encamped in a field opposite "Chew's House," the 40th 
 regiment of infantry, under Col. Musgrave. " According to Wash- 
 ington's plan for the attack Sullivan was to command the right 
 wing, composed of his own division, principally Maryland troops, 
 and the division of Gen. Wayne. He was to be sustained by a 
 corps de reserve, under Lord Sterling, composed of Nash's North 
 Carolina and Maxwell's Virginia brigades, and to be flanked by 
 the brigade of Gen. Conway. He was to march down the Skip- 
 pack road and attack the left wing ; at the same time Gen. Arm- 
 strong, with the Pennsylvania militia, was to pass down the Mon- 
 atawny or Ridge road, and get upon the enemy's left and rear. 
 Greene with the left wing, composed of his own division and the 
 division of Gen. Stephen, and flanked by McDougall's brigade, 
 was to march down the Limekiln road, so as to enter the village 
 at the market-house. The two divisions were to attack the enemy's 
 right wing in front, McDougall with his brigade to attack it in 
 flank, while Smallwood's division of Maryland militia and For- 
 man's Jersey brigade, making a circuit by the Old York road, 
 were to attack it in the rear. Two-thirds of the forces were thus 
 directed against the enemy's right-wing, under the idea that, if it 
 could be forced, the whole army must be pushed into the Schuyl- 
 kill, or compelled to surrender. The attack was to begin on all 
 quarters at daybreak. About dusk, on the 3d of Oct., the army 
 left its encampment at Matuchcn Hills, by its different routes. 
 Washington accompanied the right wing. It had fifteen miles of 
 weary march to make over rough roads, so that it was after day- 
 break when the troops emerged from the woods on Chestnut Hill. 
 The morning was dark with a heavy fog. A detachment advanced 
 to attack the enemy's out-pickct, stationed at Allen's House. The 
 patrol was led by Capt. Allen McLane, a brave Maryland officer, 
 well acquainteci with the ground, and with the position of the 
 enemy. He fell in with double sentries, whom he killed with the 
 loss of one man. The alarm, however, was given ; the distant 
 roll cJ" a drum and the call to arms, resounded through the murky 
 air. The picket guard, after discharging their two six-pounders, 
 were routed, and retreated down the south side of Mount Airy to 
 the battalion of light-infantry who were forming in order of battle. 
 As their pursuers descended into the valley, the sun rose, but was 
 soon obscured. Wayne led the attack upon the light-infantry. 
 "They broke at first," writes he, " without waiting to receive us, 
 but soon fo'rmed again, when a heavy and well-directed fire took 
 place on both sides." They again gave way, but being supported 
 by the grenadiers, returned to the charge. SuUivan's division and 
 Conway's brigade formed on the west of the road, and joined in 
 the attack. The infantry, after fighting bravely for a time, broke 
 and ran, leaving their artillery behind. They were hotly pursued 
 by Wayne. His troops remembered the bloody 20th of Sept., and 
 the ruthless slaughter of their comrades. "They pushed on with 
 the bayonet," says Wayne, "and took ample vengeance for that 
 night's work." 
 
1/77.] BATTLE OF GERMANTOWN. 365 
 
 It was a terrible melee. The fog, together with the smoke of 
 the cannonry and musketry, made it almost as dark as night. The 
 whole of the enemy's advance were driven from their camping 
 ground, leaving their tents standing, with all their baggage. Col. 
 Musgrave, with six companies of the 40th regiment, threw himself 
 into Chew's House, barricaded the doors and lower windows, and 
 took post above stairs ; the main torrent of the retreat passed by 
 pursued by Wayne into the village. As the residue of this divis- 
 ion of the army came up to join in the pursuit, Musgrave and'his 
 men opened a fire of musketry upon them from the upper windows 
 of his citadel. This brought them to a halt. Some of the officers 
 were for pushing on ; but Gen. Knox stoutly objected, insisting on 
 the old military maxim, never to leave a garrisoned castle in the 
 rear. A flag was sent with a summons to surrender. A young 
 Virginian, Lieut. Smith, volunteered to be a bearer. As he was 
 advancing, he was fired upon and received a mortal wound. The 
 house was now cannonaded, but the artillery was too light to have' 
 the desired effect. An attempt was made to set fire to the base- 
 ment. He who attempted it was shot dead from a grated cellar 
 window. Half an hour was thus spent in vain ; scarce any of the 
 defenders of the house were injured, though many of the assailants 
 were slain. At length a regiment was left to keep guard upon the 
 mansion and hold its garrison in check, and the rear division again 
 pressed forward. This half hour's delay, however, of nearly one 
 half of the army, disconcerted the action. The divisions and bri- 
 gades thus separated from each other by the skirmishing attack 
 upon Chew's House could not be reunited. The original plan of 
 attack was only effectively carried into operation in the center. 
 The flanks and rear of the enemy were nearly unmolested ; still the 
 action, though disconnected, irregular and partial, was animated 
 in various quarters. Suilivan, being reinforcect by Nash's North 
 Carolina troops and Conway's brigade, pushed on a mile beyond 
 Chew's House, where the left wing of the enemy gave way before 
 him. Greene and Stephen, with their divisions, having had to 
 make a circuit, were late in coming into action, and becanae sepa- 
 rated from each other, part of Stephen's division being arrested by 
 a heavy fire from Chew's House and pausing to return it: Greene, 
 however, with his division, comprising the brigades of Muhlen- 
 berg and Scott, pressed rapidly forward, drove an advance regi- 
 ment of light-infantry before him, took a number of prisoners, and 
 made his way quite to the market-house in the center of the vil- 
 lage, where he encountered the right wing of the British, drawn up 
 to receive him. The impetuosity of his attack had an evident 
 effect upon the enemy, who began to waver. Forman and Small- 
 wood, with the Jersey and Maryland militia, were just showing 
 themselves on the right flank of the enemy, and our troops seemed 
 on the point of carrying the whole encampment. At this moment 
 a singular panic seized our aiTny. Various causes are assigned for 
 it. SuUivan alleges that his troops had expended all their car- 
 tridges, and were alarmed by seeing the enemy gathering on their 
 left, and by the cry of a light-horseman, that the enemy were get- 
 
366 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ting round them. Wayne's division, which had pushed the enemy 
 nearly three miles, was alarmed by the approach of a large body 
 of American troops on its left flank, which it mistook for foes, and 
 fell back in defiance t)f every effort of its officers to rally it. In its 
 retreat it came upon Stephen's division and threw it into a panic, 
 being, in its turn, mistaken for the enemy ; thus all fell into con- 
 fusion, and our army fled from their own victory. 
 
 In the mean time, the enemy, having recovered from the first 
 effects of surprise, advanced in their turn. Gen. Grey brought up 
 the left wing, and pressed upon the American troops as they 
 receded. Cornwallis, with a sc^uadron of light-horse from Phila- 
 delphia, arrived just in time to join in the pursuit. The retreat of 
 the Americans was attended w ith less loss than might be expected, 
 and they carried off all their cannon and wounded. This was 
 partly owing to the good generalship of Greene, in keeping up a 
 retreating fight with the enemy for nearly five miles ; and partly to 
 a check given by Wayne, who turned his cannon upon the enemy 
 from an eminence, near White Marsh Church, and brought them 
 to a stand. The retreat continued through the day to Perkiomen 
 Creek, a distance of twenty miles. The loss of the enemy in this 
 action is stated by them to be 71 killed, 415 wounded, and 14 miss- 
 ing ; among the killed was Brigadier-general Agnew. The Amer- 
 ican loss was 150 killed, 521 wounded, and about 400 taken pris- 
 oners. Speaking of Washington's conduct amidst the perplexities 
 of this confused battle. Gen. Sullivan writes, " I saw with great 
 concern our brave commander-in-chief exposing himself to the 
 hottest fire of the enemy, in such a manner that regard for my 
 country obliged me to ride to him, and beg him to retire. He, to 
 gratify me and some others, withdrew to a small distance, but his 
 anxiety for the fate of the day soon brought him up again, where 
 he remained till our troops had retreated.' The sudden retreat 
 of the army gave him surprise, chagrin and mortification. " Every 
 account," said he subsequently, in a letter to the President of Con- 
 gress, "confirms the opinion I at first entertained, that our troops 
 retreated at that instant when victory was declaring herself in our 
 favor. The tumult, disorder, and even despair, which, it seems, 
 had taken place in the British army, were scarcely to be paralleled ; 
 and it is said, so strongly did the ideas of a retreat prevail, that 
 Chester was fixed on for their rendezvous." But although the 
 Americans Avere balked of the victoiy, which seemed within their 
 grasp, the impression made by the audacity of this attempt upon 
 Germantown, was greater, we are told, than that caused by any 
 single incident of the war after Lexington and Bunker's Hill. The 
 battle had its effect also in France. The Count De Vergennes 
 observed to the American commissioners in Paris on their first 
 interview, that nothing struck him so much as General Washing- 
 ton's attacking and giving battle to Gen. Howe's army ; that to 
 bring an army raised within a year to this pass promised every- 
 thing. The effect on the army itself may be judged from letters 
 written at the time by officers to their friends. " Though we gave 
 away a completg victory," writes one, " we have learnt this valu- 
 
1777] WASHINGTON NEAR PHILADELPHIA, 367 
 
 able truth, that we are able to beat them by a vigorous exertion, 
 and that we are far superior in point of swiftness. We are in high 
 spirits ; every action gives our troops fresh vigor, and a greater 
 opinion of their own strength." Another writes to his father : " For 
 my own part, I am so fully convinced of the justice of the cause in 
 \vhich we are contending, and that Providence, in its own good 
 time, will succeed and bless it, that, were I to see twelve of the 
 United States oveiTun by our cruel invaders, I should still believe 
 the thirteenth would not only save itself, but also work out the 
 deliverance of the others.'* 
 
 Washington remained a few days at Perkiomen Creek, to give 
 his army time to rest, and recover from the disorder incident to a 
 retreat. Having been reinforced by the arrival of twelve hundred 
 Rhode Island troops from Peekskill, under Gen. Varnum, and 
 nearly a thousand Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania troops, 
 he gradually drew nearer to Philadelphia, and took a strong posi- 
 tion at White Marsh, witliin fourteen miles of that city. He 
 detached large bodies of militia to scour the roads above the city, 
 and between the Schuylkill and Chester, to intercept all supplies 
 going to the enemy. On the forts and obstructions in the river, he 
 mainly counted to complete the harassment of Philadelphia, These 
 defences had been materially impaired. The works at Billings- 
 port had been attacked and destroyed, and some of the enemy's 
 ships had forced their way through the chevaux-de-frise placed 
 there. The American frigate Delaware, stationed in the river 
 between the upper forts and Philadelphia, had run aground before 
 a British battery, and been captured. It was now the great object 
 of the Howes to reduce and destroy, and of Washington to defend 
 and maintain, the remaining forts and obstructions. Fort Mifflin 
 was erected on a low, green, reedy island in the Delaware, a few 
 miles below Philadelphia and below the mouth of the SchuylkilL 
 It consisted of a strong redoubt, with extensive outworks and bat- 
 teries. There was but a narrow channel between the island and 
 the Pennsylvania shore. The main channel, practicable for ships, 
 was on the other side. In this were sunk strong chevaux-de-frise, 
 difficult either to be weighed or cut through, and dangerous to any 
 ships that might run against them ; subjected as they would be to 
 the batteries of Fort Mifflin on one side, and on the other to those 
 of Fort Mercer, a strong work at Red Bank on the Jersey shore. 
 Fort Mifflin was garrisoned by troops of the Maryland line under 
 Lieut. -Col. Samuel Smith of Baltimore ; and by Virginia troops. 
 The garrison was Ijetween three and four hundred strong. Float- 
 ing batteries, galleys, and fire-ships, commanded by Commodore 
 Hazlewood, were stationed under the forts and about the river. 
 Fort Mercer had hitherto been garrisoned by militia, but Wash- 
 ington now replaced them by four hundred of Gen. Varnum's 
 Rhode Island Continentals. Col. Christopher Greene was put in 
 command ; a brave officer who had accompanied Arnold in his 
 rough expedition to Canada, and fought valiantly under the walls 
 of Quebec. He was accompanied by Capt. Mauduit Duplessis, 
 who was to have the direction of the artillery. He was a young 
 
368 . LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 French engineer of great merit, who had received a commission 
 from Congress. The chevaux-de-frise in the river had been con- 
 structed under his superintendence. Greene, aided by Duplessis, 
 made all haste to put Fort Mercer in a state of defence ; but 
 before the outworks were completed, he was surprised (Oct. 22) 
 by the appearance of a large force emerging from a wood within 
 cannon shot of the fort. They were four battalions twelve hun- 
 dred strong of Hessian grenadiers, picked men, beside light-infan- 
 try and chasseurs, all commanded by Count Donop. Greene, in 
 nowise dismayed by the superiority of the enemy, forming in glis- 
 tening array before the wood, prepared for a stout resistance. In 
 a little while an officer was descried, riding slowly up with a flag, 
 accompanied by a drummer. The drummer sounded a parley, 
 and the officer summoned the garrison to surrender ; with a threat 
 of no quarter in case of resistance. Greene's reply was, that the 
 post would be defended to the last extremity. Forthwith the Hes- 
 sians were seen at work throwing up a battery within half a mile 
 of the outworks. It was finished by four o'clock, and opened a 
 heavy cannonade. As the American outworks were but half fin- 
 ished, and were too extensive to be manned by the garrison, it was 
 determined by Greene and Duplessis that the troops should make 
 but a short stand there ; to gall the enemy in their approach, and 
 then retire within the redoubt, which was defended by a deep 
 intrenchment, boarded and fraised. Donop led on his troops in 
 gallant style, under cover of a heavy fire from his battery. They 
 were excessively galled by a flanking fire from the American gal- 
 leys and batteries, and by sharp volleys from the outworks. The 
 latter, however, as had been concerted, were quickly abandoned 
 by the garrison. The enemy entered at two places, and imagining 
 the day their own, the two columns pushed on with shouts to storm 
 different parts of the redoubt. As yet, no troops were to be seen ; 
 but as one of the columns approached the redoubt on the north 
 side, a tremendous discharge of grape-shot and musketry burst 
 forth trcm the embrasures in front, and a half-masked battery on 
 the left. The slaughter was prodigious ; the column was driven 
 back ia confusion. Donop, with the other column, in attempting 
 the south side of the redoubt, had passed the abatis; some of his 
 men had traversed the fosse ; others had clambered over the pick- 
 ets, when a similar tempest of artillery and musketry burst upon 
 them. Some were killed on the spot, many were wounded, and 
 the rest were driven out. Donop himself and Lieut.-Col. Minger- 
 ode, the second in command, were also dangerously wounded. 
 Several other of the best officers were slain or disabled. The troops 
 retreated in confusion, hotly pursued, and were again cut up in 
 their retreat by the flanking fire from the galleys and floating bat- 
 teiies. The loss of the enemy in killed and wounded, in this brief 
 but severe action, was about 400 men. That of the Americans, 
 eight killed and twenty-nine wounded, AsCapt. Mauduit Duples- 
 sis was traversing the scene of slaughter after the repulse, he was 
 accosted by a voice from among the slain : "Whoever you are, 
 draw me hence." It was the unfortunate Count Donop. Diiples- 
 
1777.] WASHINGTON FOR THE CAUSE ONLY. 369 
 
 sis had him conveyed to a house near the fort, where every atten- 
 tion was paid to his comfort. He languished for three days, dur- 
 ing which Duplessis was continually at his bedside. "This is fin- 
 ishing a noble career early," said the count sadly, as he found his 
 death approaching, — then, as if conscious of the degrading service 
 in which he had fallen, hired out by his prince to aid a foreign 
 power in quelling the brave struggle of a people for their liberty, 
 and contrasting it with that in which the chivalrous youth by his 
 bedside was engaged — " I die," added he bitterly, " the victim of 
 my ambition, and of the avarice of my sovereign." He was but 
 thirty-seven years of age at the time of his death. 
 
 Fort Mifflin, opposite to Fort Mercer, was to have been attacked 
 at the same time by water. The force employed was the Augusta 
 of sixty-four guns ; the Roebuck of forty-four, two frigates, the 
 Merlin sloop of eighteen guns, and a galley. They forced their 
 way through the lower line of chevaux-de-frise ; but the Augusta 
 and Merlin ran aground below the second line, and every effort to 
 get them off proved fruitless. The other vessels kept up a fire 
 upon the fort throughout the evening, and recommenced it early in 
 the morning, as did likewise the British batteries on the Pennsyl- 
 vania shore ; hoping that under cover of it the ships might be got 
 off. A strong adverse wind, however, kept the tide from rising 
 sufficiently to float them. A heavy fire was opened upon them 
 from the galleys and floating batteries. It was warmly returned. 
 In the course of the action, a red-hot shot set the Augusta on fire. 
 It Avas impossible to check the flames. All haste was made with 
 boats to save the crew, while the other ships drew off as fast as 
 possible to get out of the reach of the explosion. She blew up, 
 however, while the second lieutenant, the chaplain, the gunner, 
 and several ot the crew were yet on board, most of whom perished. 
 The Merlin was now set on fire and abandoned ; the Roebuck 
 and the other vessels dropped down the river, and the attack on 
 Fort Mifflin was given up. These signal repulses of the enemy- 
 had an animating effect on the public mind, and were promptly 
 noticed by Congress. Col. Greene, who commanded at Fort 
 Mercer, Lieut.-Col. Smith of Maryland, who commanded at Fort 
 Mifflin, and Com. Hazlewood, who commanded the galleys, 
 received the thanks of that body ; and subsequently, a sword was 
 voted to each, as a testimonial of distinguished merit 
 
 In the meantime the cabal went on to make invidious compar- 
 isons between the achievements of the two armies, deeply deroga- 
 tory to that under Washington. Publicly, he took no notice of 
 them; they drew from him the following apology for his army, in 
 a noble and characteristic letter to his friend, the celebrated Pat- 
 rick Henry, then governor of Virginia. "The design of this," 
 writes he, " is only to inform you that the army which I have had 
 imder my immediate command, has not, at any one time, since 
 Gen. Howe's landing at the Head of Elk, been equal in point of 
 numbers to his. In ascertaining this, I do not confine myself to 
 Continental troops, but comprehend militia. I was left to fight 
 two battles, in order, if possible, to save Philadelphia, with less 
 
370 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 numbers than composed the army of my antagonist. Next Xq 
 being strong, it is best to be thought so by the enemy ; and to this 
 cause, principally, I think is to be attributed the slow movements 
 of Gen. Howe. How different the case in the Northern Depart- 
 ment! There the States of New York and New England contin- 
 ued pouring in their troops, till the surrender of Burgoyne's army ; 
 at which time not less than fourteen thousand militia were in Gen. 
 Gates's camp, and those composed, for the most part, of the best 
 yeomanry in the country, well armed, and in many instances sup- 
 plied with provisions of their own carrying. Had the same spirit per- 
 vaded the people of this and the neighboring States, we might before 
 this time have had Gen. Howe nearly in the situation of Gen. 
 Burgoyne. My own difficulties, in the course of the campaign, 
 have been not a little increased by the loss of Continental troops, 
 which the gloomy prospect of our affairs in the North immediately 
 after the reduction of Ticonderoga, induced me to spare from this 
 army. But it is to be hoped that all will yet end well. If the 
 
 CAUSE IS ADVANCED, INDIFFERENT IS IT TO ME WHERE OR IN WHAT 
 
 QUARTER IT HAPPENS." We have put the last sentence in capitals, 
 lor it speaks the whole soul of Washington. Glory with him is a 
 secondary consideration. Let those who win, wear the laurel — 
 sufficient for him is the advancement of the cause. 
 
 Gen. Howe was constructing redoubts and batteries on Province 
 Island, on the west side of the Delaware, within five hundred 
 yards of Fort Mifflin, and mounting them with heavy cannon, 
 Washington consulted with his general officers what was to be 
 done. Had he received the expected reinforcements from the 
 Northern army, he might have detached sufficient force to the west 
 side of the Schuylkill to dislodge the enemy from Province Island ; 
 but at present it would require almost the whole of the army for 
 the purpose. This would leave the public stores at Easton, Bethle- 
 hem and Allcntown uncovered, as well as several of the hospitals. 
 It would also leave the post at Red Bank unsupported, through 
 which Fort Mifflin was reinforced and supplied. The garrisons 
 of Forts Mercer and ]Mifflin were increased, and Gen. Varnum was 
 stationed at Red Bank with his brigade, to be at hand to render 
 reinforcements to cither of them as occasion might require. On 
 the loth of Nov., Gen. Howe commenced a heavy fire upon Fort 
 Mifflin from his batteries, which mounted eighteen, twenty-four, 
 and thirty-two pounders. Gen. Varnum was instructed to send 
 over fresh troops occasionally to relieve those in the garrison, and 
 to prevail upon as many as possible of the militia to go over. The 
 latter could be employed at night upon the works to repair the 
 damage sustained in the day, and might, if they desired it, return 
 to Red Bank in the morning. Washington's orders and instruc- 
 tions were faithfully obeyed. Major Fleury, a brave French 
 officer, acquitted himself with intelligence and spirit as engineer ; 
 but an incessant cannonade and bombardment for several days, 
 defied all repairs. The block-houses were demolished, the pali- 
 sades beaten down, the guns dismounted, the barracks reduced to 
 ruins. Captain Treat, a young officer of great merit, who com- 
 
1 777-] FOR T MIFFLIN RED UCED. yj i 
 
 manded the artillery, was killed, as were several non-commissioned 
 officers and privates ; and a number were wounded. The survi- 
 vors, who were not wounded, were exhausted by want of sleep, 
 hard duty, and constant exposure to the rain. Col. Smith, the 
 commander, was disabled by severe contusions, and obliged to 
 retire to Red Bank. The fort was in ruins ; there was danger of its 
 being carried by storm, but the gallant Fleury thought it might 
 yet be defended with the aid of fresh troops. Such were furnished 
 from Varnum's brigade : Lieut. -Col. Russell, of the Connecticut 
 line, replaced Col. Smith. He, in his turn, was obliged to 
 relinquish the command through fatigue and ill-health, and was 
 succeeded by Major Thayer of Rhode Island, aided by Capt. 
 (afterwards commodore) Talbot, who had distinguished himself 
 in the preceding year by an attack on a ship-of-war in the Hudson. 
 On the fourth day the enemy brought a large Indiaman, cut down 
 to a floating battery, to bear upon the works ; but though it opened 
 a terrible fire, it was silenced before night. The next day several 
 ships-of-war got within gunshot. Two prepared to attack it in 
 front; others brought their guns to bear on Fort Mercer ; while 
 two made their way into the narrow channel between Mud Island 
 and the Pennsylvania shore, to operate with the British batteries 
 erected there. At a concerted signal a cannonade was opened 
 from all quarters. The heroic little garrison stood the fire without 
 flinching; the danger, however, was growing imminent. The 
 batteries on I'rovince Island enfiladed the works. The ships in 
 the inner channel approached so near as to throw hand-grenades 
 into the fort, while marines stationed in the roundtops stood ready 
 to pick off any of the garrison that came in sight. The scene 
 now became awful ; incessant firing from ships, forts, gondolas 
 and floating batteries, with clouds of sulphurous smoke, and the 
 deafening thunder of cannon. Before night there was hardly a 
 fortification to defend; palisades were shivered, guns dismounted, 
 the whole parapet levelled. There was terrible slaughter; most 
 of the company of artillery were destroyed. Fleury himself was 
 wounded. Capt. Talbot received a wound in the wrist, but con- 
 tinued bravely fighting until disabled by another wound in the hip. 
 To hold out longer was impossible. Col. Thayer made prepara- 
 tions to evacuate the fort in the night. The wounded were taken 
 over to Red Bank accompanied by part of the garrison. Thayer 
 remained with forty men until eleven o'clock, when they set fire to 
 what was combustible of the fort they had so nobly defended, and 
 crossed to R^d Band by the light of its flames. The loss of this 
 fort was deeply regretted by Washington, though he gave high 
 praise to the officers and men of the garrison. Col. Smith was 
 voted a sword by Congress, and Fleury received the commission 
 of lieutenant-colonel. 
 
 Washington still hoped to keep possession of Red Bank, and 
 thereby prevent the enemy from weighing the chevaux-de-frise 
 before the frost obliged their ships to quit the river. " I am anxi- 
 ously waiting the arrival of the troops from the northward," writes 
 he, "who ought, from the time they have had my orders, to have 
 
372 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 been here before this. Col. Hamilton, one of my aides, is up the 
 North River, doing all he can to push them forward, but he writes 
 me word that he finds many unaccountable delays thrown in his 
 way. The want of these troops has embarrassed all my measures 
 exceedingly." Col. Hamilton, on his way to the headquarters of 
 Gates, at Albany, found Gov. Clinton and Gen. Putnam encamped 
 on the opposite sides of the Hudson, just above the Highlands; 
 the governor at New Windsor, Putnam at F'ishkill. About a mile 
 from New Windsor, Nov. 2d, Hamilton met Morgan and his rifle- 
 men, on the march for W^ashington's camp, having been thus 
 tardily detached by Gates. Hamilton urged him to hasten on with 
 all possible despatch, which he promised to do. The colonel had 
 expected to find matters in such a train, that he would have little 
 to do but hurry on ample reinforcements already on the march ; 
 whereas, he found that a large part of the Northern army was to 
 remain in and about Albany, about four thousand men to be spared 
 to the commander-in-chief ; the rest were to be stationed on the 
 east side of the Hudson with Putnam, who had projected an attack 
 upon New York. Hamilton rather disconcerted his project by 
 directing him, in Washington's name, to hurry forward two Con- 
 tinental brigades to the latter, together with Warner's militia 
 brigade; also, to order to Red Bank a body of Jersey militia about 
 to cross to Pcckskill. Hamilton hastened on to Albany. He found 
 siill less disposition on the part of Gates to furnish the troops 
 required. There was no certainty, he said, that Clinton had gone 
 to join Gen. Howe. There was a possibility of his returning up 
 the river. The New England States would be left open to the 
 ravages and depredations of the enemy ; beside, it would put it 
 out of his power to attempt anything against Ticonderoga, an 
 undertaking of great importance, in which he might engage in 
 the winter. Hamilton felt, he says, how embarrassing a task it 
 was for one so young as himself to oppose the opinions and plans 
 of a veteran, whose successes had elevated him to the highest 
 importance. It was with the greatest difficulty he prevailed on 
 Gates to detach the brigades of Poor and Patterson to the aid of 
 the commander-in-chief. The surrender of Burgoyne, though 
 mainly the result of Washington's far-seeing plans, had suddenly 
 trumped up Gates into a quasi rival. A letter written to Gates at 
 the time, and still existing among his papers, lays open the spirit 
 of the cabal. It is without signature, but in the handwriting of 
 James Lovell, member of Congress from Massachusetts ; the same 
 who had supported Gates in opposition to Schuyler. . The follow- 
 ing are extracts : " You have saved our Northern Hemisphere ; 
 and in spite of consummate and repeated blundering, you have 
 changed the condition of the Southern campaign, on the part of 
 the enemy, from offensive to defensive. The campaign here must 
 soon close ; if our troops are obliged to retire to Lancaster, Read- 
 ing, Bethlehem, etc., for winter-quarters, and the country below is 
 laid open to the enemy's flying parties, great and very general will 
 be the murmur — so great, so general, that nothing inferior to a 
 
1777.] WASHINGTON RECONNOJTERS. 373 
 
 commander-in-chief will be able to resist the mighty torrent of 
 public clamor and public vengeance." 
 
 Sir William Howe followed up th'fe reduction of Fort Mifflin by 
 an expedition against Fort Mercer, which still impeded the naviga- 
 tion of the Delaware. On the 17th of Nov. Lord Cornwallis was 
 detached with two thousand men to cross from Chester into the 
 Jerseys, where he would be joined by a force advancing from New 
 York. Apprised of this movement, Washington detached Gen. 
 Huntington, with a brigade, to join Varnum at Red Bank. Gen, 
 Greene was also ordered to repair thither with his division, and an 
 express was sent off to Gen. Glover, who was on his way through 
 the Jerseys with his brigade, directing him to file off to the left 
 towards the same point. Before they could form a junction, how- 
 ever, and reach their destination, CornwalUs appeared before it. 
 A defence against such superior force was hopeless. The works 
 were abandoned ; and the enemy proceeded to destroy them. 
 
 The troops from the North arrived in ragged plight, owing to the 
 derangement of the commissariat. A part of Morgan's rifle 
 corps was absolutely unable to take the field for want of shoes, 
 and such was was the prevalent want in this particular, that tea 
 dollars reward was offered in general orders for a model of the 
 best substitute for shoes that could be made out of raw hides. 
 The enemy were now in possession of the river, but it was too late 
 in the season to clear away the obstructions, and open a passage 
 for the large ships. All that could be effected at present, was to 
 opened a sufficient channel for transports and vessels of easy 
 burden, to bring provisions and supplies for the army. Washing- 
 ton advised the navy board to have all the American frigates 
 scuttled and sunk immediately. The board objected to sinking 
 them, but said they should be ballasted and plugged, ready to be 
 sunk in case of attack. 
 
 On the evening of the 24th of Nov. Washington reconnoitred, 
 carefully and thoughtfully, the lines and defences about Philadel- 
 phia, from the opposite side of the Schuylkill. His army was 
 now considerably reinforced ; the garrison was weakened by the 
 absence of a large body of troops under Lord Cornwallis in the 
 Jerseys. Some of the general officers thought this an advanta- 
 geous moment for an attack upon the city. Such was the opinion 
 of Lord Stirhng ; and especially of Gen. Wayne, Mad Anthony, 
 as he was familiarly called, always eager for some daring enter- 
 prise. The recent victory at Saratoga had dazzled the public mind, 
 and produced a general impatience for something equally striking 
 and effective in this quarter. Everything in the neighborhood of 
 their lines bore traces of the desolating hand of war. Several 
 houses, owned probably by noted patriots, had been demolished ; 
 others burnt. Villas stood roofless ; their doors and windows, and 
 all the wood-work, had been carried off to make huts for the 
 soldiery. Nothing iDut bare walls remained. Gardens had been 
 trampled down and destroyed ; not a fence nor fruit-tree was to be 
 seen. The gathering gloom of a November evening heightened 
 the sadness of this desolation. With an anxious eye Washington 
 
374 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 scrutinized the enemy's works. They appeared to be exceedingly 
 strong. A chain of redoubts extended along the most command- 
 ing ground from the Schuylkill to the Delaware. They were 
 framed, planked, and of great thickness, and were surrounded by 
 a deep ditch, enclosed and fraised. The intervals were filled with 
 an abatis, in constructing which all the apple trees of the neigh- 
 borhood, beside forest trees, had been sacrificed. Washington saw 
 there was an opportunity for a brilliant blow, that might satisfy the 
 impatience of the public, and silence the sarcasms of the press ; 
 but he saw that it must be struck at the expense of a fearful loss of 
 life. Returning to camp, he held a council of war of his principal 
 officers, in which the matter was debated at great length. At 
 breaking up, he requested that each member of the council would 
 give his opinion the next morning in writing, and he sent off a 
 messenger in the night for the written opinion of Gen. Greene. 
 Only four members of the council, Stirling, Wayne, Scott and 
 Woodford, were in favor of an attack ; of which Lord Stirling drew 
 up the plan. Eleven (including Greene) were against it, objecting, 
 among other things, that the enemy's lines were too strong and too 
 well supported, and their force too numerous, well disciplined and 
 experienced, to be assailed without great loss and the hazard of a 
 failure. Mad Washington been actuated by mere personal ambi- 
 tion and a passion for military fame, or had he yielded to the goad- 
 ings of faction and the press, he might have disregarded the loss 
 and hazarded the failure; but his patriotism was superior to his 
 ambition ; lie shrank from a glory that must be achieved at such a 
 cost, and the idea of an attack was abandoned 
 
 The INIarquis de Lafayette, though not quite recovered from the 
 wound received at the battle of Brandywine, had accompanied 
 Gen. Greene as a volunteer in his expedition into the Jerseys, and 
 had been indulged by him with an opportunity of gratifying his 
 belligerent humor, in a brush with Cornwallis's outposts. "The 
 marquis," writes Greene, to Washington, "with about four hun- 
 dred militia and the rifle corps, attacked the enemy's picket last 
 evening, killed about twenty, wounded many more, and took about 
 twenty prisoners. The marquis is charmed with the spirited 
 behavior of the militia and rifle corps ; they drove the enemy 
 above half a mile, and kept the ground until dark. The enemy's 
 picket consisted of about three hundred, and were reinforced dur- 
 ing the skirmish. The marquis is determined to be in the way of 
 danger." Washington transmitted to Congress an account of 
 Lafayette's youthful exploit. He received, in return, an intimation 
 from that body, that it was their pleasure he should appoint the 
 marquis to the command of a division in the Continental army. 
 Lafayette was forthwith appointed to the command of Gen, 
 Stephen's former division. 
 
 At this juncture (Nov. 27th), a modification took place in the 
 Board of War, indicative of the influence which was operating in 
 Congress. It was increased from three to five members: Gen. 
 Mifflin, Joseph Trumbull, Richard Peters, Col. Pickering, and 
 last, though certainly not least, Gen. Gates. Gates was appointed 
 
1777-1 GEN. HOWE GROWS CAUTIOUS, 375 
 
 president of the board, and the President of Congress was instructed 
 to express to him, the high sense which that body entertained of 
 his abilities and pecuhar fitness to discharge the duties of that 
 important office, upon the right execution of which the success of 
 the American cause so eminently depended ; and to inform him it 
 was their intention to continue his rank as major-general, and that 
 he might officiate at the board or in the field, as occasion might 
 require ; furthermore, that he should repair to Congress with all 
 convenient despatch, to enter upon the duties of his appointment. 
 It was evidently the idea of the cabal that Gates was henceforth to 
 be the master spirit of the war. While busy faction was thus at work, 
 both in and out of Congress, to undermine the fame and authority 
 of Washington, Gen. Howe, according to his own threat, was 
 preparing to "drive him beyond the mountains." On the 4th of 
 Dec, Capt. Allen McLane, a vigilant officer of the Maryland hne, 
 brought word to headquarters, that an attack was to be made that 
 very night on the camp at White Marsh. Washington made his 
 dispositions to receive the meditated assault, and, in the mean time, 
 detached McLane with one hundred men to reconnoitre. The 
 latter met the van of the enemy about eleven o'clock at night, on 
 the Germantown Road ; attacked it at the Three Mile Run, forced 
 it to change its line of march, and hovered about and impeded it 
 throughout the night. The enemy appeared at daybreak, and 
 encamped on Chestnut Hill, within three miles of Washington's 
 right wing. Brigadier-general James Irvine, with 600 militia, was 
 sent out to skirmish with their light advanced parties. After a 
 short conflict, in which several were killed and wounded, his troops 
 gave way and fled in all directions, leaving him and four or five 
 of his men wounded on the field. Gen. Howe passed the day in 
 reconnoitring, and at night changed his ground, and moved to a 
 hill on the left, and within a mile of the American line. He had 
 scrutinized Washington's position and pronounced it inaccessible. 
 For three days he manoeuvred to draw him from it, shifting his 
 own position occasionally, but still keeping on advantageous 
 ground. Washington was not to be decoyed. He knew the vast 
 advantages which superior science, discipline and experience gave 
 the enemy in open field fight, and remained within his lines. On 
 the 7th there was every appearance that Howe meditated an attack 
 on the left wing. Washington's heart now beat high, and he 
 prepared for a warm and decisive action. In the course of the day 
 he rode through every brigade, giving directions how the attack 
 was to be met, and exhorting his troops to depend mainly on the 
 bayonet. His men were inspired by his words, but still more by 
 his looks, so calm and determined ; for the soldier regards the 
 demeanor more than the words of his general in the hour of peril. 
 The day wore away with nothing but skirmishes, in which Morgan's 
 riflemen, and the Maryland mihtia under Col. Gist, rendered 
 good service ; but no attack took place. The spirit manifested by 
 the Americans in their recent contests, had rendered the British 
 commanders cautious. The next day, in the afternoon, the enemy 
 were again in motion ; but instead of advancing, filed off to the left. 
 
376 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 halted, and lit up a long string of fires on the heights ; behind 
 which they retreated, silently and precipitately, in the night. By 
 the time Washington received intelligence of their movement, they 
 were in full march by two or three routes for Philadelphia. He 
 immediately detached light parties to fall upon their rear, but they 
 were too far on the way for any but lighthorse to overtake them. 
 
 Winter had now set in with all its severity. The troops, worn 
 down by long and hard service, had need of repose. Poorly clad, 
 also, and almost destitute of blankets, they required a warmer 
 shelter than mere tents against the inclemencies of the season. 
 The plan adopted by Washington, after holding a council of war, 
 and weighing the discordant opinions of his officers, was to hut the 
 army for the winter at Valley Forge, in Chester County, and the 
 west side of the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Philadelphia. 
 Here he would be able to keep a vigilant eye on that city, and at 
 the same time protect a great extent of country. Sad and dreary 
 was the march to Valley Forge; uncheered by the recollection of 
 any recent triumph, as was the march to winterquarters in the pre- 
 ceding year. Hungry and cold were the poor fellows who had so 
 long been keeping the field ; for provisions were scant, clothing 
 worn out, and so badly off were they for shoes, that the footsteps of 
 many might be tracked in blood. Yet at this very time we are told, 
 "hogsheads of shoes, stockings, and clothing, were lying at differ- 
 ent places on the roads and in the woods, perishing for want of 
 teams, or of money to pay the teamsters." Such were the conse- 
 quences of the derangement of the commissariat. 
 
 Arrived at Valley Forge on the 17th, (Dec. 1777) the troops had 
 still to brave the wintry weather in their tents, until they could cut 
 down trees and construct huts for their accommondation. Those 
 who were on the sick list had to seek temporary shelter among the 
 farmers of the neighborhood. Each hut was fourteen feet by six- 
 teen, with walls of logs filled in with clay, six feet and a half high ; 
 the fireplaces were of logs plastered ; and logs split into rude planks 
 or slabs furnished the roofing. A hut was allotted to twelve non- 
 commissioned officers and soldiers. A general-officer had a hut to 
 himself. The same was allowed to the staff of each brigade and 
 regiment, and the field officer of each regiment ; and a hut to the 
 commissioned officers of each company. The huts of the soldiery 
 fronted on the streets. Those of the officers formed a line in the 
 rear, and the encampment gradually assumed the look of a rude 
 military village. Scarce had the troops been two days employed 
 in these labors, when, before daybreak on the 22d, word was 
 brought that a body of the enemy had made a sortie toward Ches- 
 ter, apparently on a foraging expedition. Washington issued or- 
 ders to Gen. Huntington and Varnum to hold their troops in read- 
 iness to march against them. Their replies bespeak the forlorn 
 state cf tlie army. " Fighting will be far perfcrable to starving," 
 writes Huntington. " My brigade are out of privisions, nor can the 
 commissary obtain any meat. I have used every argument my 
 imagination can invent to make the soldiers easy, but I despair of 
 being able to do it much longer." " It's a very pleasing circum- 
 
1777-8- J THE ARMY A T VALLEY FORGE. 377 
 
 stance to the division under my command," writes Varnum, "that 
 there is a probability of their marching ; three days successively 
 we have been destitute of bread. Two days we have been entirely 
 without meat. The men must be supplied, or they cannot be com- 
 manded." In fact, a dangerous mutiny had broken out among 
 the famishing troops in the preceding night, which their officers 
 had had great difficulty in quelling. Washington instantly wrote 
 to the President of Congress on the subject. '• I do not know from 
 what cause this alarming deficiency, or rather total failure of sup- 
 plies arises ; but unless more vigorou exertions and better regula- 
 tions take place in the commissaries' s department immediately, the 
 anny must dissolve. In the present exigency, to save his camp 
 from desolation, and to relieve his starving soldiery, he was com- 
 pelled to exercise the authority recently given him by Congress, to 
 forage the country round, seize supplies wherever he could find 
 them, and pay for them in money or in certificates redeemable by 
 Congress. He exercised these powers with great reluctance ; 
 rurally inclined himself, he had a strong sympathy with the culti- 
 vators of the soil, and ever regarded the yeomanry with a paternal 
 eye. He was apprehensive, moreover, of irritating the jealousy of 
 military sway, prevalent throughout the country', and of corrupting 
 the morals of the army. "Such procedures," writes he to the 
 President of Congress, "may give a momentary relief; but if 
 repeated, will prove of the most pernicious consequence. Beside 
 spreading disaffection, jealousy and fear among the people, they 
 never fail, even in the most veteran troops, under the most rigid 
 and exact discipline, to raise in the soldiery a disposition to licen- 
 tiousness, to plunder and robbery, difficult to suppress afterward, 
 and which has proved not only ruinous to the inhabitants, but in 
 many instances to armies themselves." Howtruly in all these try- 
 ing scenes of his military career, does the patriot rise above the 
 soldier ! It had been one of the most arduous and eventful years 
 of his military life, and one the most trying to his character and 
 fortunes. He began it with an empty army chest, and a force 
 dwindled down to four thousand half-disciplined men. Through- 
 out the year he had had to contend, not merely with the enemy, 
 but with the parsimony and meddlesome interference of Congress. 
 In his most critical times that body had left him without funds and 
 ■without reinforcements. Marvellous indeed was the manner in 
 ^vhich he had soothed the discontents of his aggrieved officers, and 
 reconciled them to an ill-requiting service ; and still more marvel- 
 lous the manner in which he had breathed his own spirit of patience 
 and perseverance in his yeoman soldiery, during their sultry march- 
 ings and countermarchings through the Jerseys, under all kinds of 
 privation, Avith no visible object of pursuit to stimulate their ardor, 
 hunting, as it were, the rumored apparitions of an unseen fleet. 
 All this time, too, while endeavoring to ascertain and counteract 
 the operations of Lord Howe upon the ocean, and his brother upon 
 the land, he Avas directing and aiding military measures against 
 Burgoyne in the North. Three games were in a manner going on 
 under his supervision. The operations of the commander-in-chief 
 
378 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 are not always most obvious to the public eyes ; victories may be 
 planned in his tent, of which subordinate generals get the credit ; 
 and most of the moves which ended in giving a triumphant check 
 to Burgoyne, may be traced to Washington's shifting camp in the 
 Jerseys. The machinations and intrigues which had displaced the 
 noble-hearted Schuyler from the head of the Northern department, 
 ■were now at work to undermine the commander-in-chief, and 
 elevate the putative hero of Saratoga on his ruins. In no part of 
 the war did Washington more thoroughly evince that magnan- 
 imity which was his grand characteristic than in the last scenes of 
 this campaign, where he rose above the tauntings of the press, the 
 sneering of the cabal, the murmurs of the pubhc, the suggestions 
 of some of his friends, and the throbbing impulses of his own cou- 
 rageous heart and adhered to that Fabian policy which he consid- 
 ered essential to the safety of the cause. To dare is often the 
 impulse of selfish ambition or hare-brained valor ; to forbear is at 
 times the proof of real greatness, — Gates was the constant theme 
 of popular eulogium, and was held up by the cabal, as 
 the only one capable of retrieving the desperate fortunes 
 of the South. Letters from his friends in Congress urged him to 
 hasten on, take his seat at the head of the Board of War, assume 
 the management of military affairs, and save the country ! He 
 was not a strong-minded man. It is a wonder, then, that his brain 
 should be bewildered by the fumes of incense offered up on every 
 side ? In the midst of his triumph, however, while feasting on the 
 sweets of adulation, came the withering handwriting on the wall! 
 It is an epistle from his friend Mifflin. "My dear General." writes 
 he, " an extract from Conway's letter to you has been procured and 
 sent to headquarters. The extract was a collection of just sen- 
 timents, yet such as should not have been intrusted to any of your 
 family. General Washington enclosed it to Conway without 
 remarks. Nothing could surpass the trouble and confusion of 
 mind of Gates on the perusal of this letter. Part of his correspond- 
 ence with Conway had been sent to headquarters. But what part? 
 What was the purport and extent of the alleged extracts? How 
 had they been obtained? Who had sent them? He then wrote to 
 "Washington, who replied with characteristic dignity and candor: 
 "Col. Wilkinson, on his way to Congress, in the month of October last, 
 fell in with Lord Stirling at Reading, and, not in confidence, that 
 I ever understood, informed his aide-de-camp, Major McWilliams, 
 that General Conway had written this to you : ' Heaven has been 
 determined to save your country, or a weak general and bad coun- 
 sellors would have ruined it.' Lord Stirling, from motives of friend- 
 ship, transmitted the account with this remark : ' The enclosed was 
 communicated by Col. Wilkinson to Major McWilliams. Such 
 wicked duplicity of conduct I shall always think it my duty to 
 detect.' " "Neither this letter," continues he, " nor the informa- 
 tion which occasioned it, was ever directly or indirectly communi- 
 cated by me to a single officer in this army, out of my own family, 
 excepting the Marquis de Lafayette, who, having been spoken to 
 on the subject by Gen. Conway, applied for and saw, under injunc- 
 
1778. INTRIGUES AGAINST WASHINGTON, 379 
 
 tions of secrecy, the letter which contained Wilkinson's informa- 
 tion ; so desirious was I of concealing every matter that could, in 
 its consequences, give the smallest interruption to the tranquillity 
 of this army, or afford a gleam of hope to the enemy by dissensions 
 therein. Till Lord Stirhng's letter came to my hands, I never 
 knew that Gen. Conway, whom I viewed in the light of a stranger 
 to you, was a correspondent of yours ; much less did I suspect that 
 I was the subject of your confidential letters. Pardon me, then, 
 for adding, that so far from conceiving the safety of the States can 
 be affected, or in the smallest degree injured, by a discovery of 
 this kind, or that I should be cilled upon in such solemn terms to 
 point out the author, I considered the information as coming from 
 yourself, and given with a view to forwarn, and consequently to 
 forearm me, against a secret enemy, or in other words, a danger- 
 ous incendiary ; in which character sooner or later this country 
 wiU know Gen. Conway. But in this, as in other matters of late, 
 I have found myself mistaken." This clear and ample answer 
 showed that the betrayal of the defamatory correspondence was 
 due to the babbling of Wilkinson. 
 
 Gates was disposed to mark his advent to power by a striking" 
 operation. An expedition was to proceed from Albany, cross 
 Lake Champlain on the ice, burning the British shipping at St. 
 John's, and press forward to Montreal. Washington was not con- 
 sulted in the matter : the project was submitted to Congress, and 
 sanctioned by them without his privity. One object of the scheme 
 was to detach the Marquis de Lafayette from Washington, to 
 whom he was devotedly attached, and bring him into the interests 
 of the cabal. For this purpose he was to have the command of 
 the expedition ; an appointment which it was thought would tempt 
 his military ambition. Conway was to be second in command, 
 and it was trusted that his address and superior intelligence would 
 virtually make him the leader. The first notice that Washington 
 received of the project was in a letter from Gates, enclosing one to 
 Lafayette, informing the latter of his appointment, and requiring 
 his attendance at Yorktown to receive his instructions. Lafayette 
 was so disgusted by the want of deference and respect to the 
 commander-in-chief evinced in the whole proceedings, that he 
 would at once have declined the appointment, had not Washing- 
 ton himself advised him strongly to accept it. Gates was profuse 
 of promises. Everything was to be made smooth and easy for 
 Lafayette. He was to have at least two thousand five hundred 
 fighting men under him. Stark, the veteran Stark, was ready to 
 cooperate with a body of Green Mountain Boys. It was near the 
 end of a repast. The wine had circulated freely, and toasts had 
 been given according to the custom of the day. The marquis 
 thought it time to show his flag. One toast, he observed, had 
 been omitted, which he would now propose. Glasses were accord- 
 ingly filled, and he gave "The commander-in-chief of the Ameri- 
 can armies." The toast was received without cheering. Lafay- 
 ette was faithful to the flag which he had unfurled. In accepting 
 the command, he considered himself detached from the main 
 
38o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 anny under the immediate orders of the commander-in-chief. He 
 made a point of having the Baron de Kalb appointed to the expe- 
 dition ; whose commission being of older date than that of Con- 
 way, would make him second in command. He set out for Albany 
 without any very sanguine expectations. Writing to Washington 
 from Flemmington, amid the difficulties of winter travel, he says : 
 " I go on very slowly ; sometimes drenched by rain, sometimes 
 covered with snow, and not entertaining many handsome thoughts 
 about the projected excursion into Canada. Lake Champlain is 
 too cold for producing the least bit of laurel; and, if I am not 
 starved, I shall be as proud as if I had gained three battles.'* 
 Gen. Conway had arrived at Albany three days before the mar- 
 quis, and his first words when they met was that the expedition 
 was quite impossible. Generals Schuyler, Lincoln and Arnold had 
 written to Conway to that effect. The marquis was at first inclined 
 to hope the contrary, but his hope was soon demolished. Instead 
 of the two thousand five hundred men that had been promised 
 him, not twelve hundred in all were to be found fit for duty, and 
 most part of these were " naked even for a summer's campaign ;'* 
 all shrank from a winter incursion into so cold a country. As to 
 Gen. Stark and his legion of Green Mountain Boys, the marquis 
 received at Albany a letter from the veteran, "who wishes to know," 
 says he, " what nitvibcr of vten.for luhat time, and for luhat ren- 
 dezvous, I desire him to raised The poor marquis was in despair 
 — but what most distressed him was the dread of ridicule. He 
 had written to his friends that he had the command of the expedi- 
 tion ; it would be known throughout Europe. Washington, with 
 his considerate paternal counsels, hastened to calm the perturba- 
 tion tjf his youthful friend, and dispel those fears respecting his 
 reputation, excited only, as he observed, "by an uncommon 
 degree of sensibility." " It will be no disadvantage to you to have 
 it known in Europe," writes he, " that you have received so mani- 
 fest a proof of the good opinion and confidence of Congress as an 
 important detached command." The project of an irruption into 
 Canada was at length formally suspended by a resolve of Con- 
 gress ; and Washington was directed to recall the marquis and the 
 Baron de Kalb, the presence of the latter being deemed absolutely 
 necessary to the army at Valley Forge. Lafayette at the same 
 time received assurance of the high sense entertained by Congress 
 of his prudence, activity and zeal, and that nothing was wanting 
 on his part to give the expedition the utmost possible effect. He 
 gladly hastened back to Valley Forge, to enjoy the companionship 
 and find himself once more under the paternal eye of Washing- 
 ton; leaving Conway for the time in command at Albany, 
 ** where there would be nothing perhaps to be attended to but 
 some disputes of Indians and tories." 
 
 During the winter's encampment in Valley Forge, Washington 
 sedulously applied himself to the formation of a new system for 
 the army. At his earnest solicitation Congress appointed Gen. Reed, 
 Nathaniel Folsom, Francis Dana, Charles Carrol, and Gouverneur 
 Morris a Committee of arrangements, to repair to the camp and assist 
 
1778.] SUFFERINGS OF THE ARMY. 381 
 
 him in the task. Before their arrival he had collected the written 
 opinions and suggestions of his officers on the subject, and from 
 these, and his own observations and experience, had prepared a doc- 
 ument exhibiting the actual state of the amiy, the defects of pre- 
 vious systems, and the alterations and reforms that were neces- 
 sary. The committee remained three months with him in camp, 
 and then made a report to Congress founded on his statement. 
 Washington had urged that the pay of the officers was insufficient 
 for their decent subsistence, especially during the actual deprecia- 
 tion of the currency ; and that many resignations were the conse- 
 quence. He recommended not only that their pay should be 
 increased, but that there should be a provision for their future 
 support, by half pay and a pensionary establishment ; so as to 
 secure them from being absolutely impoverished in the service of 
 their country. But all that Washington could effect by 
 strenuous and unremitted exertions, was a kind of compromise, 
 according to which officers were to receive half pay for seven 
 years after the war, and non-commissioned officers and privates 
 eighty dollars each. The reforms adopted were slow in going into 
 operation. In the meantime, the distress of the army continued to 
 increase. The surrounding country for a great distance was 
 exhausted, and had the appearance of having been pillaged. In 
 some places where the inhabitants had provisions and cattle they 
 denied it, intending to take them to Philadelphia, where they could 
 obtain greater prices. The undisturbed communication with the 
 city had corrupted the minds of the people in its vicinage.^ *• This 
 State is sick even unto the death," said Gouverneur Morris. The 
 parties sent out to forage too often returned empty handed. 
 " For some days past there has been little less than a famine in 
 the camp," writes Washington, on one occasion. " A part of the 
 army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and the rest 
 three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot 
 enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the sol- 
 diery, that they have not been, ere this, excited by their suffering 
 to a general mutiny and desertion." The committee, in their 
 report, declared that the want of straw had cost the lives of many 
 of the troops. "Unprovided with this, or materials to raise them 
 from the cold and wet earth, sickness and mortality have spread 
 through their quarters in an astonishing degree. Nothing can 
 equal their sufferings, except the patience and fortitude with which 
 the faithful part of the army endure them. Steadman, a British 
 historian, cites as a proof of the great ascendency of Washington 
 over his "raw and undisciplined troops," that so many remained 
 with him throughout the winter, in this wretched situation and still 
 more wretched plight ; almost naked, often on short allowance, 
 with great sickness and mortality, and a scarcity of medicine, their 
 horses perishing by hundreds from hunger and the severity of the 
 season. He gives a striking picture of the indolence and luxury 
 which reigned at the same time in the British army in Philadel- 
 phia. It is true, the investment of the city by the Americans ren- 
 dered provisions dear and fuel scanty ; but the consequent priva- 
 
382 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 tions were felt by the inhabitants, not by their invaders. The lat- 
 ter revelled as if in a conquered place. Private houses were occu- 
 pied without rendering compensation; the officers were quartered 
 on the principal inhabitants, many of whom were of the Society of 
 Friends. The quiet habits of the city were outraged by the disso- 
 lute habits of a camp. Gaming prevailed to a shameless degree. 
 A foreign officer kept a faro bank, at which he made a fortune, 
 and some of the young officers ruined themselves. '• During the 
 whole of this long winter of riot and dissipation," continues the 
 same writer, "Washington was suffered to remain undisturbed at 
 Valley Forge, with an anny not exceeding five thousand effective 
 men ; and his cannon frozen up and immovable. A nocturnal 
 attack might have forced him to a disadvantageous action or com- 
 pelled him to a disastrous retreat, leaving behind him his sick, can- 
 non, ammunition and heavy baggage. It might have opened the 
 way for supplies to the city, and shaken off the lethargy of the 
 British army."* 
 
 Capt. Henry Lee (Light-horse Harry) had made himself formi- 
 dable to the enemy by harassing their foraging parties. An 
 attempt was made to surprise him at the advanced post, where he 
 was stationed with a few men. A party of about two hundred 
 dragoons, taking a circuitous route in the night, came upon him by 
 day-break. He took post in a large store-house. His scanty force 
 did not allow a soldier for each window. The dragoons attempted 
 to force their way into the house, but were bravely repulsed, and 
 sheered off, leaving two killed and four wounded. Washington, 
 whose heart evidently warmed more and more to this young Vir- 
 ginian officer, the son of his "lowland beauty," not content with 
 noticing his exploit in general orders, wrote a note to him on the 
 subject, expressed with unusual familiarity and warmth. " My 
 clear Lee," writes he, "although I have given you my thanks in the 
 [general orders of this day, for the late instance of your gallant 
 Ijehaviov, I cannot resist the inclination I feel to repeat them again 
 in this manner. I needed no fresh proof of your merit to bear 
 you in remembrance. I waited only for the proper time and season 
 to show it; those I hope are not far off." Not long afterwards he 
 strongly recommended Lee for the command of two troops of horse, 
 with the rank of major, to act as an independent partisan corps. 
 "His genius," observes he, "pardcularly adapts him to a com- 
 mand of this nature ; and it will be the most agreeable to him of 
 any station in which he could be placed." It was a high gratifi- 
 cation to Washington when Congress made this appointment; 
 accompanying it with encomiums on Lee as a brave and prudent 
 officer, who had rendered essential service to the country, and 
 acquired distinguished honor to himself and the corps he com- 
 manded. 
 
 About this time Washington received a letter from Gen. Lee, 
 who was still in the hands of the enemy. " I have the strong- 
 est reason to flatter myself," writes Lee, "that you will interest 
 yourself in whatever interests my comfort and welfare. I think it 
 my duty to inform you that my situation is much bettered. It is 
 
1778.] BARON STEUBEN DRILLS THE ARMY, 383 
 
 now five days that I am on my parole. I have the full liberty of 
 the city and its limits ; have horses at my command furnished by 
 Sir Henry Chnton and Gen. Robertson ; am lodged with two of the 
 oldest and warmest friends I have in the world, Col. Butler and 
 Col. Disney of the forty-second regiment. In short, my situation 
 is rendered as easy, comfortable and pleasant as possible, for a 
 man who is in any sort a prisoner." Washington replied : " You may 
 rest assured that I feel myself very much interested in your wel- 
 fare, and that every exertion has been used on my part to effect 
 your exchange. I am authorized to expect that you will return in 
 a few days to your friends on parole, as Major-General Prescott 
 will be sent in on the same terms for that purpose." Difficulties, 
 however, still occurred ; and Gen. Lee and Col. Ethan Allen were 
 doomed for a few months longer to suffer the annoyance of hope 
 deferred. The embarkation of Gen. Burgoyne and his troops 
 from Boston, became also a subject of difficulty and delay ; it 
 being alleged that some stipulations of the treaty of surrender had 
 not been complied with. Burgoyne subsequently obtained per- 
 mission for his own return to England on parole, on account of 
 ill health. 
 
 In the month of February, Mrs. Washington rejoined the gen- 
 eral at Valley Forge, and took up her residence at headquarters. 
 The aiTangements consequent to her arrival bespeak the simplicity 
 of style in this rude encampment. •• The general's apartment is 
 very small," writes she to a friend; "he has had a log cabin built 
 to dine in, which has made our quarters much more tolerable than 
 they were at first." Lady Stirling, Mrs. Knox, the wife of the gen- 
 eral, and the wives of other of the officers were also in the camp. 
 The reforms in the commissariat had begun to operate. Provi- 
 sions arrived in considerable quantities ; supplies, on their way to the 
 Philadelphia market to load the British tables, were intercepted 
 and diverted into the hungry camp of the patriots ; magazines 
 were formed in Valley Forge ; the threatened famine was averted ; 
 "grim-visaged war" gradually relaxed his features, and affairs in 
 the encampment began to assume a more cheering aspect. 
 
 Baron Steuben arrived in the camp towards the latter part of 
 February. He was a seasoned soldier from the old battlefields of 
 Europe ; having served in the seven years' war, and been aide-de- 
 camp to the great Frederick. Honors had been heaped upon him 
 in Germany. After leaving the Prussian army he had been grand 
 marshal of the court of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, 
 colonel in the circle of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince 
 Margrave of Baden, and knight of the Order of Fidelity ; and 
 he had declined liberal offers from the King of Sardinia and the 
 Emperor of Austria. With an income of about three thousand 
 dollars, chiefly arising from various appointments, he was living 
 pleasantly in distinguished society at the German courts, and mak- 
 ing occasional visits to Paris, when he was persuaded by the Count 
 de St. Germain, French Minister of War, and others of the French 
 cabinet, to come out to America, and engage in the cause they 
 were preparing to befriend. Their object was to secure for the 
 
384 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 American armies the services of an officer of experience and a 
 thorough discipHnarian. Through their persuasions he resigned 
 his several offices, and came out at forty-eight years of age, a sol- 
 dier of fortune, to the rude fighting grounds of America, to aid a 
 half-disciphned people in their struggle for liberty. No certainty 
 of remuneration was held out to him, but there was an opportunity 
 for acquiring mihtary glory; the probability of adequate reward 
 should the young republic be successful ; and it was hinted that, 
 at all events, the French court would not suffer him to be a loser. 
 As his means, on resigning his offices, were small, Beaumarchais 
 furnished funds for his immediate expenses. The baron had 
 brought strong letters from Dr. Franklin and Mr. Deane, our 
 envoys at Paris, and from the Count St. Gemiain. Landing in 
 Portsmouth in New Hampshire, Dec. 1st, he had forwarded copies 
 of his letters to Washington. '• The object of my greatest ambi- 
 tion," writes he, "is to render your country all the service in my 
 power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of America by fighting 
 for the cause of your liberty. I would say, moreover, were it not 
 for the fear of offending your modesty, that your Excellency is the 
 only person under whom, after having served under the King of 
 Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art to which I have wholly given 
 myself up." By Washington's direction, the baron had proceeded 
 direct to Congress. His letters procured him a distinguished 
 reception from the president. He offered his services as a volun- 
 teer : making no condition for rank or pay, but trusting, should he 
 prove himself worthy and the cause be crowned with success, he 
 would be indemnified for the sacrifices he had made, and receive 
 such further compensation as he might be thought to merit. The 
 baron's proffered services were accepted with a vote of thanks for 
 his disinterestedness, and he was ordered to join the army at Val- 
 ley Forge. That army, in its ragged condition and squalid quar- 
 ters, presented a sorry aspect to a strict disciplinarian from Ger- 
 many, accustomed to the order and appointments of European 
 camps; and the baron declared, that under such circumstances no 
 army in Europe could be kept together for a single month. His 
 liberal mind, however, made every allowance ; and Washington 
 soon found in him a consummate soldier, free from pedantry or 
 pretention. Washington proposed to the baron to undertake the 
 office of inspector-general. The latter cheerfully agreed. Two 
 ranks of inspectors were appointed under him ; the lowest to 
 inspect brigades, the highest to superintend several of these. 
 Among the inspectors was a French gentleman of the name of 
 Ternant, chosen not only for his intrinsic merit and abilities, but 
 on account of his being well versed in the English as well as the 
 French language, which made him a necessary assistant to the 
 baron, who, at times, needed an interpreter. The gallant Fleury, 
 to whom Congress had given the rank and pay of lieutenant- 
 colonel, and who had exercised the office of aide-major in France, 
 was soon after employed likewise as an inspector. In a little while 
 the whole army was under drill ; for a great part, made up of raw 
 militia, scarcely knew the manual exercise. Many of the officers, 
 
I778.J BARON STEUBEN DRILLS THE ARMY. 3S5 
 
 too, knew little of manceuvring, and the best of them had much to 
 learn. The baron furnished his sub-inspectors with written 
 instructions relative to their several functions. He took a com- 
 pany of soldiers under his immediate training, and after he had 
 sufficiently schooled it, made it a model for the others, exhibiting 
 the manoeuvres they had to practice. It was a severe task at first 
 for the aide-de-camp of the Great Frederick to operate upon such 
 raw materials. His ignorance of the language, too, increased the* 
 difficulty, where manoeuvres were to be explained or rectified. He 
 was in despair, until an officer of a New York regiment. Captain 
 Walker, who spoke French, stepped forward and offered to act as 
 interpreter. " Had I seen an angel from Heaven," says the baron, 
 "I could not have been more rejoiced." He made Walker his 
 aide-de-camp, and from that time had him always at hand. For a 
 time, there was nothing but drills throughout the camp, then grad- 
 ually came evolutions of every kind. The officers were schooled 
 as well as the men. The troops were paraded in a single line 
 with shouldered arms; every officer in his place. The baron passed 
 in front, then took the musket of each soldier in hand, to see 
 whether it was clean and well pohshed, and examined whether the 
 men's accoutrements were in good order. He was sadly worried for a 
 time with the militia ; especially when any manoeuvre was to be 
 performed. The men blundered in their exercise ; the baron 
 blundered in his English ; his French and German were of no 
 avail ; he lost his temper, which was rather warm ; swore in all 
 three languages at once, which made the matter worse, and at 
 length called his aide to his assistance — to help him curse the 
 blockheads, as it was pretended — but no doubt to explain the 
 manoeuvre. Still the grand mai-shal of the court of Hohenzollern 
 mingled with the veteran soldier of Frederick, and tempered his 
 occasional bursts of impatience ; and he had a kind, generous 
 heart, that soon made him a favorite with the men. His discipline 
 extended to their comforts. He inquired into their treatment by 
 the officers. He examined the doctor's reports; visited the sick; 
 and saw that they were well lodged and attended. He was an 
 example, too, of the regularity and system he exacted. One of 
 the most alert and indefatigable men in the camp ; up at daybreak 
 if not before, whenever there were to be any important manoeuvres, 
 he took iiis cup of coffee and smoked his pipe while his servant 
 dressed his hair, and by sunrise he was in the saddle, equipped at 
 all points, with the star of his order of knighthood glittering on 
 his breast, and was off to the parade, alone, if his suite were not 
 ready to attend him. His strong good sense was evinced in the 
 manner in which he adapted his tactics to the nature of the army 
 and the situation of the country, instead of adhering with bigotry 
 to the system of Europe. His instructions were appreciated by all. 
 The officers received them gladly and confonned to them. The 
 men soon became active and adroit. The army gradually ac- 
 quired a proper organization, and began to operate like a great 
 machine ; and Washington found in the baron an intelligent, 
 
 13 
 
386 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 disinterested, truthful coadjutor, well worthy of the badge he wore 
 as a knight of the Order of Fidelity. 
 
 Another great satisfaction to Washington, was the appointment 
 by Congress (March 3d) of Greene to the office of quartermaster- 
 general ; still retaining his rank of major-general in the army. 
 Greene undertook the office with reluctance, and agreed to per- 
 form the military duties of it without compensation for the space of 
 a year. He found it in great disorder and confusion, but, by 
 extraordinary exertions and excellent system, so arranged it, as to 
 put the army in a condition to take the field and move with rapid- 
 ity the moment it should be required. The favor in which Greene 
 stood with the commander-in-chief, arose from the abundant proofs 
 Washington had received in times of trial and difficulty, that he 
 had a brave, affectionate heart, a sound head, and an efficient arm, 
 on all of which he could throughly rely. 
 
 The Highlands of the Hudson had been carefully reconnoitered 
 m the course of the winter by Gen. Putnam, Gov. Clinton, his 
 brother James, and several others, and subsequently by a commit- 
 tee from the New York Legislature, to determine upon the most 
 eligible place to be fortified. West Point was ultimately chosen : 
 and Major-general IMcDougall Avas ordered to the Highlands, to 
 take command of the different posts in that department, and to 
 press forward the construction of the works, m which he was to be 
 assisted by Kosciuszko, an engineer. 
 
 I^y a resolution of Congress on the 15th, Gates was directed to 
 resume the command of the Northern department, and to proceed 
 forthwith to Fishkill for that purpose. He was invested with pow- 
 ers for completing the Avorks on the Hudson, and authorized to 
 caiTy on operations against the enemy should any favorable oppor- 
 tunity offer, but he was not to undertake any expedition against 
 New York without previously consulting the commander-in-chief. 
 Washington was requested to assemble a council of major-generals 
 to determine upon a plan of operations, and Gates and Mifflin, by 
 a. subsequent resolution, were ordered to attend that council. 
 This arrangement, putting Gates under Washington's order, 
 evinced the determination of Congress to sustain the latter in his 
 joroper authority. 
 
 Ihe capture of Burgoyne and his army Avas now operadng with 
 powerful effect on the cabinets of both England and France. 
 vVith the former it was coupled Avith the apprehension that France 
 Avas about to espouse the American cause. The consequence was 
 Lord North's " Conciliatory Bills," as they Avere called, submitted 
 by him to Parliament, and passed Avith but shght opposition. One 
 of these bills regulated taxation in the American colonies, in a manner 
 which, it Avas trusted, Avould obviate every objection. The other 
 authorized the appointment of commissioners clothed Avith powers 
 to negotiate Avith the existing governments ; to proclaim a cessa- 
 tion of hostilities ; to grant pardons, and to adopt other measures 
 of a conciliatory nature. Intelligence that a treaty betAveen 
 France and the United States had actually been concluded at 
 Paris, induced the British minister to hurry off a draft of the bills 
 
1778.] TREAl'V IVIIH FRANCE. 387 
 
 to America, to forestall the effects of the treaty upon the public 
 mind. Gen. Tryon caused copies of it to be printed in New York 
 and circulated through the country. He sent several of them to 
 General Washington, 15th April, with a request that they should 
 be communicated to the officers and privates of his army. Wash- 
 ington transmitted them to Congress, observing that the time to 
 entertain such overtures was past. "Nothing short of indepen- 
 dence, it appears to me, can possibly do. A peace on other terms 
 would, if I may be allowed the expression, be a peace of war. 
 The injuries we have received from the British nation were so 
 unprovoked, and have been so great and so many, that they can 
 never be forgotten." These and other objections advanced by him 
 met with the concurrence of Congress, and it was unanimously 
 resolved that no conference could be held, no treaty made with any 
 commissioners on the part of Great Britain, until that power should 
 have withdrawn its fleets and armies, or acknowledged in positive 
 and express terms the independence of the United States. 
 
 The negotiations with the French Cabinet which had gone on so 
 slowly as almost to reduce our commissioners to despair, were 
 brought to a happy termination, and on the 2d of May, ten days 
 after the passing by Congress of the resolves just cited, a messen- 
 ger arrived express from France with two treaties, one of amity 
 and commerce, the other of defensive alliance, signed in Paris on 
 the 6th of February by M. Girard on the part of France, and by 
 Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee on the part of 
 the United States. This last treaty stipulated that, should war 
 ensue between France and England, it should be made a common 
 cause by the contracting parties, in which neither should make 
 truce or peace with Great Britain without the consent of the other, 
 nor either lay down their arms until the independence of the United 
 States was established. These treaties were unanimously ratified 
 by Congress, and their promulgation was celebrated by public 
 rejoicings throughout the country. The 6th of May was set apart 
 for a military fete at the camp at Valley Forge. The army was 
 assembled in best array ; there was solemn thanksgiving by the 
 chaplains at the head of each brigade; after which a grand 
 parade, a national discharge of thirteen guns, a general feu de 
 joie, and shouts of the whole army, " Long live the King of France 
 —Long live the friendly European powers — Huzza for the Ameri- 
 can States." A banquet succeeded, at which Washington dined 
 in public with all the officers of his army, attended by a band of 
 music. Patriotic toasts were given and heartily cheered. Wash- 
 ington retired at five o'clock, on which there was universal huzza- 
 ing and clapping of hands — " Long live General Washington.'* 
 The shouts continued till he had proceeded a quarter of a mile, 
 and a thousand hats were tossed in the air. Washington and his 
 suite turned round several times and cheered in reply. The 
 commander-in-chief was supreme i*n the affections of the army. 
 
 On the 8th, the council of war, ordered by Congress, was con- 
 vened; at which were present Major-generals Gates, Greene, 
 Stirling, Mifflin, Lafayette, De Kalb, Armstrong and Steuben, and 
 
388 L/r£ OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Brigadier-generals Knox and Duportail. It was unanimously 
 determined to remain on the defensive, and not attempt any offen- 
 sive operation until some opportunity should occur to strike a suc- 
 cessful blow. Gen. Lee was not present at the council, but after- 
 wards signed the decision. 
 
 The military career of Sir William Howe in the United States 
 was now drawing to a close. His conduct of the war had given 
 much dissatisfaction in England. His enemies observed that 
 everything gained by the troops was lost by the general; that he 
 had suffered an enemy widi less than four thousand men to recon- 
 quer a province which he had recently reduced, and lay a kind of 
 siege to his army in their winter quarters ; and that he had brought 
 a sad reverse upon the British arms by failing to cooperate vigor- 
 ously and efHciently with Burgoyne. Sir William had tendered 
 his resignation, which had been promptly accepted, and Sir Henry 
 Clinton ordered to relieve him. Clinton arrived in Philadelphia on 
 the 8th of May, and took command of the army on the Jith. 
 
 At this time the number of British chivalry in Philadelphia was 
 nineteen thousand five hundred and thirty, cooped up in a manner 
 by an American force at Valley Forge, amounting, according to 
 official returns to eleven thousand eight hundred men. Soon after 
 Sir Henry Clinton had taken the command, there were symptoms 
 of an intention to evacuate the city. Lafayette was therefore 
 detached by Washington, with twenty -one hundred chosen men 
 and five pieces of cannon, to take a position where he might be at 
 hand to gain information, watch the movements of the enemy, 
 check their predatory excursions, and fall on their rear when in the 
 act of^ withdrawing. The marquis crossed the Schuylkill on the 
 i8th of May, and proceeded to Bjwren Hill, about half Avay 
 between Washington's camp and Philadelphia, and about eleven 
 miles from both. Here he planted his cannon facing the south, 
 with rocky ridges bordering the Schuylkill on his right ; woods 
 and stone houses on his left. Behind him the roads forked, one 
 branch leading to Matson's Ford on the Schuylkill, tlie other by 
 Swedes' Ford to Valley Forge. \\\ advance of his left wing was 
 McLane's company and about fifty Indians. Pickets and videttes 
 were placed in the woods to the south, through which the roads 
 led to Philadelphia, and a body of six hundred Pennsylvania 
 miUtia were stationed to keep watch on the roads leading to White 
 Marsh. Clinton concerted a plan to entrap the young French 
 nobleman. Five thousand men were sent out at night, under 
 Gen. Grant, to make a circuitous march by White Marsh, and get 
 in the rear of the Americans ; another force under Gen. Grey was 
 to cross to the west side of the Schuylkill, and take post below 
 Barren Hill, while Sir Henry in person was to lead a third division 
 along the Philadelphia road. Early in the morning red coats Avere 
 doscried in the woods near White Marsh. Lafayette sent out an 
 officer to reconnoitre. The latter soon came spurring back at full 
 speed. A column of the enemy had pushed forward on the road 
 from White Marsh, were within a mile of the camp, and had 
 possession of the road to Valley Forge. Another column was 
 
i;78.j BRITISH COMMISSIONERS ARRIVE. 389 
 
 advancing on the Philadelphia road. Lafayette saw his danger, 
 but maintained his presence of mind. Throwing out small parties 
 of troops to show themselves at various points of the intervening 
 wood, as if an attack on Grant was meditated, he brought that 
 general to a halt, to prepare for action, while he with his main 
 body pushed forward for Matson's Ford on the Schuylkill. The 
 stratagem of the youthful warrior succeeded. He completely 
 gained the march upon Gen. Grant, reached Matson's Ford in 
 safety, and took a strong position on high grounds which com- 
 manded it. The enemy arrived at the river just in time for a 
 skirmish as the artillery was crossing. Seeing that Lafayette had 
 extricated himself from their hands, and was so strongly posted, 
 they gave over all attack, and returned somewhat disconcerted to 
 Philadelphia. — The exchange of Gen. Lee for Gen. Prescott, so 
 long delayed by various impediments, had recently been effected; 
 and Lee was reinstated in his position of second in command. 
 Col. Ethan Allen, also, had been released from his long captivity, 
 in exchange for Col. Campbell. Allen paid a visit to the camp at 
 Valley Forge, where he had much to tell of his various vicissitudes 
 and hardships. Washington, in a letter to the President of Con- 
 gress suggesting that something should be done for Allen, observes: 
 " His fortitude and firmness seem to have placed him out of the 
 reach of misfortune. There is an original something about hinl 
 that commands admiration, and his long captivity and sufferings 
 have only served to increase, if possible, his enthusiastic zeal. He 
 appears very desirous of rendering his services to the States, and 
 of being employed ; and at the same time, he does not discover 
 any ambition for high rank." In a few days, a brevet commission 
 of colonel arrived for Allen ; but he had already left camp for 
 his home in Vermont, where he appears to have hung up his sword ; 
 for we meet with no further achievements by him on record. 
 
 Indications continued to increase of the departure of troops 
 from Philadelphia. The military quarters were in a stir and 
 bustle; effects were packed up; many sold at auction; baggage 
 and heavy cannon embarked ; transports fitted up for the reception 
 of horses, and hay taken on board. A war between France and 
 England appeared to be impending : in that event, Philadelphia 
 would be an ineligible position for the British army. For three 
 weeks affairs remained in this state. Washington held his army 
 ready to march towards the Hudson at a moment's warning ; and 
 sent Gen. Maxwell with a brigade of Jersey troops, to cooperate 
 with Major-general Dickinson and the militia of that State, in 
 breaking down the bridges and harassing the enemy, should they 
 actually attempt to march through it. In the meantime, the com- 
 missioners empowered under the new Conciliatory Bills to negotiate 
 the restoration of peace between Great Britain and her former 
 colonies, arrived in the Delaware in the Trident ship-of-war. These 
 were Frederick Howard, Earl of Carhsle ; Wilham Eden (after- 
 wards Lord Aukland), brother of the last colonial governor of 
 Maryland ; and George Johnstone, sometimes called commodore, 
 from having served in the navy, but more commonly known as 
 
390 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Gov. Johnstone, having held that office in Florida. Ke was now a 
 member of Parliament, and in the opposition. Their secretary was 
 the celebrated Dr. Adam Ferguson, an Edinburgh professor, 
 author of a Roman History, and who in his younger days (he was 
 now about fifty-five years of age) had been a " fighting cnaplain 
 at Fontenoy." The commissioners landed at Philadelphia on the 
 6th of June, and discovered, to their astonishment, that they had 
 come out, as it were, in the dark, on a mission in which but a half 
 confidence had been reposed in them by government. Three 
 weeks before their departure from England, orders had been sent 
 out to Sir Henry Chnton to evacuate Philadelphia and concentrate 
 his forces at New York ; yet these orders were never imparted to 
 them. On the 9th June, Chnton informed Washington of the 
 arrival of the commissioners, and requested a passport for their 
 secretary. Dr. Ferguson, to proceed to Yorktown bearing a letter 
 to Congress. Washington sent to Congress a copy of Sir Henry's 
 letter, but did not consider himself at liberty to grant the passport 
 until authorized by them. The commissioners forwarded their 
 letter, accompanied by the " Conciliatory Acts" and other docu- 
 ments. They were received by Congress on the 13th. The letter 
 of the commissioners was addressed "to his Excellency, Henry 
 Laurens, the President and others, the members of Congress." 
 The reading of the letter was interrupted ; and it came near being 
 indignantly rejected, on account of expressions disrespectful to 
 France ; charging it with being tlie insidious enemy of both 
 England and her colonies, and interposing its pretended friendship 
 to the latter " only to prevent reconciliation and prolong this 
 destructive war." In their reply, signed by the president (June 
 17th), they observed, that nothing but an earnest desire to spare 
 further effusion of blood, could have induced them to read a 
 paper containing expressions so disrespectful to his most Christian 
 Majesty, or to consider propositions so derogatory to the honor of 
 an independent nation ; and in conclusion, they expressed a readi- 
 ness to treat as soon as the King of Great Britain should demon- 
 strate a sincere disposition for peace, either by an explicit acknowl- 
 edgment of the independence of the States, or by the withdrawal 
 of his fleets and armies. An intimation was conveyed from John- 
 stone to Gen. Joseph Reed, at this time an influential member of 
 Congress, that eftectual services on his part to restore the union of 
 the two countries might be rewarded by ten thousand pounds sterl- 
 ing, and any office in the colonies in His Majesty's gift. To this, 
 Reed made his brief and memorable reply : " I am not worth" 
 purchasing ; but such as I am, the King of Great Britain is not 
 rich enough to do it." A letter was also written by Johnstone to 
 Robert Morris, the celebrated financier, then also a member of 
 Congress, containing the following significant paragraph: "I 
 believe the men who have conducted the affairs of America incapa- 
 ble of being influenced by improper motives ; but in all such trans- 
 actions there is risk ; and I think that whoever ventures, should 
 be assured, at the same time, that honor and emolument should 
 naturally follow the fortune of those who have steered the vessel 
 
1/78.] THE BRITISH QUIT PHILADELPHIA. 391 
 
 in the stonn and brought her safely into port. I think Washington 
 and the President have a right to every favor that grateful nations 
 can bestow, if they could once more unite our interest, and spare 
 the miseries and devastation of vi-ar." These transactions and 
 letters being communicated to Congress, were pronounced by them 
 a daring and atrocious attempt to corrupt their integrity, and tiiey 
 resolved that it was incompatible with their honor to hold any 
 correspondence or intercourse with the commissioner who made it ; 
 especially to negotiate with him upon affairs in which the cause of 
 liberty was concerned. 
 
 The commissioners, disappointed in their hopes of influencing 
 Congress, published a manifesto recapitulating their official pro- 
 ceedings ; stating the refusal of Congress to treat with them, and 
 offering to treat within forty days with deputies from all or any of 
 the colonies or provincial Assemblies; holding forth, at the same 
 time, the usual offers of conditional amnesty. This measure, like 
 all which had preceded it, proved ineffectual ; the commissioners 
 embarked for England, and so terminated this tardy and blunder- 
 ing attempt of the British Government and its agents to effect a 
 reconciliation — the last attempt that was made. Lord Carlisle, 
 who had taken the least prominent part in these transactions, thus 
 writes in the course of them to his friend, the witty George Selwyn, 
 and his letter may serve as a peroration : " Everything is upon a 
 great scale on this continent. Tlie rivers are immense ; the cli- 
 mate violent in heat and cold ; the prospects magnificent ; the 
 thunder and lightning tremendous. We have nothing on a great 
 scale with us but our blunders, our misconduct, our ruin, our 
 losses, our disgraces and misfortunes." 
 
 The enemy's force in the city had been much reduced. Five 
 thousand men had been detached to aid in a sudden descent on 
 >the French possessions in the West Indies ; three thousand more 
 to Florida. Most of the cavalry with other troops had been 
 shipped with the provision train and heavy baggage to New York. 
 The effective force remaining with Sir Henry was now about nine 
 or ten thousand men ; that under Washington was a little more 
 than twelve thousand Continentals, and about thirteen hundred 
 militia. It had already acquired considerable proficiency in 
 tactics and field manoeuvring under the diUgent instructions of 
 Steuben.. 
 
 Sir Henry had taken his measures with great secrecy and 
 despatch. The army commenced moving at three o'clock on the 
 morning of the i8th, retiring to a point of land below the town 
 formed by the confluence of the Delaware and Schuylkill, and 
 crossing the former river in boats. By ten o'clock in the morning 
 the rearguard landed on the Jersey shore. On the first intelligence 
 of this movement, Washington detached Gen. Maxwell with his 
 brigade, to cooperate with Gen. Dickinson and the New Jersey 
 militia in harassing the enemy on their march. He sent Gen. 
 Arnold, also, with a force to take command of Philadelphia, that 
 officer being not yet sufficiently recovered from his wound for 
 field service ; then breaking up his camp at Valley Forge, he 
 
392 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 pushed forward with his main force in pursuit of the enemy. As 
 the route of the latter lay along the eastern bank of the Delaware 
 as high as Trenton, Washington was obliged to make a considera- 
 ble circuit, so as to cross the river higher up at Coryell's Ferry, 
 near the place where, eighteen months previously, he had crossed 
 to attack the Hessians. Heavy rains and sultry summer heat 
 retarded his movements ; but the army crossed on the 24th. The 
 British were now at Moorestown and l^Iount Holly. Thence they 
 might take the road on the left for Brunswick, and so on to Staten 
 Island and New York ; or the road to the right through Monmouth, 
 by the Heights of Middletown to Sandy Hook. Uncertain which 
 they might adopt, Washington detached Col. Morgan with six 
 hundred picked men to reinforce Maxwell, and hang on their rear; 
 while he himself pushed forward with the main body towards 
 Princeton, cautiously keeping along the mountainous country to 
 the left of the most northern road. The march of Sir Henry was 
 very slow. His army was encumbered with baggage and provi- 
 sions. His train of wheel carriages and bat horses was twelve 
 miles in extent. He was retarded by heavy rain and intolerable 
 heat ; bridges had to be built and causeways constructed over 
 streams and marshes, where they had been destroyed by the 
 Americans. From his dilatory movements, Washington suspected 
 Chnton of a design to draw him down into the level country, and 
 then, by a rapid movement on his right, to gain possession of the 
 strong ground above him, and bring him to a general action on 
 disadvantageous tcnns. He himself was inclined for a general 
 action whenever it could be made on suitable ground : he halted, 
 therefore, at Hopewell, about five miles from Princeton, and held a 
 council of war while his troops were reposing and refreshing them- 
 selves. Sir Henry Clinton turned to the right by a road leading 
 through Freehold to Navesink and Sandy Hook ; to embark at 
 the latter place. Washington detached Wayne with one thousand 
 men to join the advanced corps, which, thus augmented, was 
 upwards of four thousand strong. The command of the advance 
 was eagerly solicited by Lafayette, as an attack by it was intended, 
 and Lee was strenuously opposed to everything of the kind. 
 Washington willingly gave his consent, provided Gen. Lee were 
 satisfied with the arrangement. The latter ceded the command 
 without hesitation, observing to the marquis that he was well 
 pleased to be freed from all responsibility in executing plans which 
 he was sure would fail, Lafayette set out on the 25th to form a 
 junction as soon as possible with the force under Gen. Scott ; 
 while Washington, leaving his baggage at Kingston, moved with 
 the main body to Cranberry, three miles in the rear of the 
 advanced corps, to be ready to support it. Scarce, however, had 
 Lee relinquished the command, when he changed his mind. In a 
 notfe to Washington, he declared that, in assenting to the arrange- 
 ment, he had considered the command of the detachment, one 
 more fitting a young volunteering general than a veteran like him- 
 self, second in command in the army. He now viewed it in a 
 different light. Clinton, finding himself harassed by light troop** 
 
1 778. ] BA TTLE OF MONMO UTH. 393 
 
 on the flanks, and in danger of an attack in the retfr, placed all 
 his baggage in front under the convoy of Knyphausen, while he 
 threw the main strength of his army in the rear under Cornwallis. 
 This made it necessary for Washington to strengthen his advanced 
 corps; and he took this occasion to detach Lee, with Scott's and 
 Varnum's brigades, to support the force under Lafayette. As Lee 
 was the senior major-general, this gave him the command of the 
 whole advance. Washington explained the matter in a letter to 
 the marquis, who resigned the command to Lee when the latt'^r 
 joined him on the 27th. That evening the enemy encamped on 
 high ground near Monmouth Court House. Lee encamped with 
 the advance at Enghshtown, about five miles distant. The main 
 body was three miles in his rear. About sunset, Washington rode 
 forward to the advance, and axiously reconnoitred Sir Henry's 
 position. It was protected by woods and morasses, and too strong 
 to be attacked with a prospect of success. Should the enemy, 
 however, proceed ten or twelve miles further unmolested, they 
 would gain the heights of Middletown, and be on ground still 
 more difficult. To prevent this, he resolved that an attack should 
 be made on their rear early in the morning, as soon as their front 
 should be in motion. This plan he communicated to Gen. Lee, 
 ordering him to make dispositions for the attack, keeping his troops 
 lying on their arms, ready for action on the shortest notice ; a 
 disposition he intended to observe with his own troops. He sent 
 orders to Lee before midnight, to detach six or seven hundred men 
 to lie near the enemy, watch and give notice of their movements, 
 and hold them in check when on the march, until the rest of the 
 troops could come up. Gen. Dickinson was charged by Lee with 
 ^this duty. Morgan was likewise stationed with his corps to be 
 ready for skirmishing. Knyphausen, with the British vanguard, 
 had begun about daybreak to descend into the valley between 
 Monmouth Court House and Middletown. To give the long train 
 of wagons and pack horses time to get well on the way, Clinton 
 with his choice troops remained in camp on the heights of Free- 
 hold, until eight o'clock, when he likewise resumed the line of 
 march towards Middletown. Lee had advanced with the brigades 
 of Wayne and Maxwell, to support the light troops engaged in skirm- 
 ishing. The difficulty of reconnoitring a country cut up by woods 
 and morasses, and the perplexity occasioned by contradictory 
 reports, embarrassed his movements. Being joined by Lafayette 
 with the main body of the advance, he had now about four thou- 
 sand men at his command, independent of those under Morgan 
 and Dickinson. Arriving on the heights of Freehold, and riding 
 forward with Gen. Wayne to an open place to reconnoitre, Lee 
 caught sight of a force under march, but partly hidden from view 
 by intervening woods. Supposing it to be a mere covering party 
 of /about two thousand men, he detached Wayne with seven 
 hundred men and two pieces of artillery, to skinnish in its rear 
 and hold it in check ; while he, with the rest of his force, taking 
 a shorter road through the woods, would get in front of it, and cut 
 it off from the rriain body. Washington in the mean time was on 
 
394 LIF^ OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 his march with the main body, to support the advance, as he had 
 promised. The booming of cannon at a distance indicated that 
 the attack so much desired had commenced, and caused him to 
 quicken his march. Arrived near Freehold church, where the 
 road forked, he detached Greene with part of his forces to the 
 right, to flank the enemy in the rear of Monmouth Court House, 
 while he, with the rest of the column, would press forward by the 
 other road. 
 
 He had alighted while giving these directions, and was standing 
 with his arm thrown over his horse, when a countryman rode up 
 and said the Continental troops were retreating. Washington was 
 provoked at what he considered a false alarm. Springing on his 
 horse, he had moved forward but a short distance when he met 
 several fugitives, one in the garb of a soldier, who all concurred 
 in the report. He now sent forward Colonels Fitzgerald and 
 Harrison, to learn the truth, while he himself spurred past Free- 
 hold meeting house. Between that edifice and the moraj^s beyond 
 it, he met Grayson's and Patton's regiments in most disorderly 
 retreat, jaded with heat and fatigue. Riding up to the officer at 
 their head, Washington demanded whether the whole advanced 
 corps were retreating. The officer believed they were. It seemed 
 incredible. There had been scarce any firing — Washington had 
 received no notice of the retreat from Lee. He was still almost 
 inclined to doubt, when the heads of several columns of the 
 advance began to appear. It was too evident — the whole advance 
 ■was falling back on the main body, and no notice had been given 
 to him. One of the first officers that came up was Col. Shreve, 
 at the head of his regiment; W^ashington, greatly surprised and 
 alarmed, asked the meaning of this retreat. The colonel smiled 
 significantly — he did not know — he had retreated by order. There 
 had been no fighting excepting a slight skirmish with the enemy's 
 cavalry, which had been repulsed. A suspicion flashed across 
 Washington's mind, of wrong-headed conduct on the part of Lee, 
 to mar the plan of attack adopted contrary to his counsels. Order- 
 ing Col. Shreve to march his men over the morass, halt them on 
 the hill beyond and refresh them, he galloped forward to stop the 
 retreat of the rest of the advance, his indignation kindling as he 
 rode. At the rear of the regiment he met Major Howard; he, too, 
 could give no reason for the retreat, but seemed provoked at it — 
 declaring that he had never seen the like. Another officer 
 exclaimed with an oath that they were flying from a shadow. 
 Arriving at a rising ground, Washington beheld Lee approaching 
 with the residue of his command in full retreat. By this time he 
 was thoroughly exasperated. " What is the meaning of all this, 
 sir ? " demanded he, in the sternest and even fiercest tone, as Lee 
 rode up to him. Lee for a moment was disconcerted, and hesitated 
 in making a reply, for Washington's aspect, according to Lafayette, 
 was terrible. " I desire to know the meaning of this disorder and 
 confusion," was again demanded still more vehemently. Lee, 
 stung by the manner more than the words of the demand, made 
 an angry reply, and provoked still sharper expressions, which have 
 
17/8.] WASHINGTON REBUKES LEE, 395 
 
 been variously reported. He attempted a hurried explanation. 
 His troops had been thrown into confusion by contradictory intelli- 
 gence; by disobedience of orders; by the meddling and blunder- 
 ing of individuals; and he had not felt disposed, he said, to beard 
 the whole British army with troops in such a situation. "I have 
 certain information," rejoined Washington, " that rt was merely a 
 strong covering party." " That may be, but it was stronger than 
 mine, and I did not think proper to run such a risk." " I am very 
 sorry," replied Washington, "that you undertook the command, 
 unless you meant to fight the enemy." " I did not think it prudent 
 to bring on a general engagment." "Whatever your opinion 
 may have been, ' replied Washington, disdainfully, " I expected 
 my orders would have been obeyed." 
 
 This all passed rapidly, and, as it were, in flashes, for there was 
 no time for parley. The enemy were within a quarter of an 
 hour's march. Washington's appearance had stopped the retreat. 
 The fortunes of the day were to be retrieved, if possible, by instant 
 arrangements. These he proceeded to make with great celerity. 
 The place was favorable for a stand; it was a rising ground, to 
 which the enemy could approach only over a narrow causeway. 
 The rallied troops were hastily formed upon this eminence. Col. 
 Stewart and Ramsay, with two batteries, were stationed in a covert 
 of woods on their left, to protect them and keep the enemy at bay. 
 Col. Oswald was posted for the same purpose on a height, with 
 two field-pieces. The promptness with which everything was done 
 showed the effects of the Baron Steuben's disciphne. In the 
 interim, Lee, being asked about the disposition of some of tne 
 troops, replied that he could give no orders in the matter; as he 
 supposed General Washington intended he should have no further 
 command. Shortly after this, Washington, having made all his 
 arrangements with great dispatch but admirable clearness and 
 precision, rode back to Lee in calmer mood, and inquired, "Wilf 
 you retain the command on this height or not ? if you will, I will 
 return to the main body, and have it formed on the next height." 
 " It is equal to me where I command," replied Lee. " I expect 
 you will take proper means for checking the enemy," rejoined 
 Washington. " Your orders shall be obeyed ; and I shall not be 
 the first to leave the ground," was the reply. 
 
 A warm cannonade by Oswald, Stewart, and Ramsey, had the 
 desired effect. The enemy were brought to a stand, and Washing- 
 ton had time to gallop back and bring on the main body. This he 
 formed on an eminence, with a wood in the rear and the morass in 
 front. The left wing was commanded by Lord Stirling, who had 
 with him a detachment of artillery and several field-pieces. Gen. 
 Greene was on his right. Lee had maintained his advance position 
 with great spirit, but was at length obliged to retire. He brought 
 off his troops in good order across a causeway which traversed the 
 morass in front of Lord Stirling. As he had promised, he was the 
 last to leave the ground. Having formed his men in a line, beyond 
 the morass, he rode up to Washington. '• Here, sir, are my 
 troops," said he; "how is it your pleasure I should dispose of 
 
396 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 them ?" Washington saw that the poor fellows were exhausted by 
 marching, counter-marching, hard fighting and the intolerable 
 heat of the weather : he ordered Lee, therefore, to repair with 
 them to the rear of Englishtown, and assemble there all the scat- 
 tered fugitives he might meet with. 
 
 The batteries under the direction of Lord Stirling opened a brisk 
 and well-sustained fire upon the enemy ; who, finding themselves 
 warmly opposed in front, attempted to turn the left flank of the 
 Americans, but were driven back by detached parties of infantry 
 stationed there. They then attempted the right ; but here were 
 met by Gen. Greene, who had planted his artillery under Knox, on 
 a commanding ground, and not only checked them but enfiladed 
 tlwse who were in front of the left wing. Wayne too, with an ad- 
 vanced party posted in an orchard, and partly sheltered by a barn, 
 kept up a severe and well-directed fire upon the enemy's center. 
 Repeated attempts were made to dislodge him, but in vain. Col. 
 Monckton of the royal grenadiers, who had distinguished himself 
 and been wounded in the battle of Long Island, now undertook to 
 drive Wayne from his post at the point of the bayonet. Having 
 made a brief harangue to his men, he led them on in column. 
 V/ayne*s men reserved their fire until Monckton, waving his sword, 
 called out to his grenadiers to charge. At that instant a sheeted 
 volley laid him low, and made great slaughter in his column, 
 which was again repulsed. The enemy fell back to the ground 
 which Lee had occupied in the morning. Here their flanks were 
 secured by woods and morasses, and their front could only be 
 approached across a narrow causeway. Notwithstanding the diffi- 
 culties of the position, Washington prepared to attack it ; ordering 
 Gen. Poor with his own and the Carolina brigade, to move round 
 upon their right, and Gen. Woodford on their left; while the artil- 
 lery should gall them in front. Before these orders could be car- 
 ried into effect the day was at an end. Many of the soldiers had 
 sunk upon the ground, overcome by fatigue and the heat of the 
 weather ; all needed repose. The troops, therefore, which had 
 been in the advance, were ordered to lie en their arms on the 
 ground they occupied, so as to be ready to make the attack by 
 daybreak. The main army did the same, on the field of action, to 
 be at hand to support them. Washington lay on his cloak at the 
 foot of a tree, with Lafayette beside him, talking over the strange 
 conduct of Lee ; whose disorderly retreat had come so near being 
 fatal to the army. It was indeed a matter of general perplexity, 
 to which the wayward character of Lee greatly contributed. 
 Some who recollected his previous opposition to all plans of 
 attack, almost suspected him of wilfully aiming to procure a 
 defeat. It would appear, however, that he had been really sur- 
 prised and thrown into confusion by a move of Gen. Clinton, who, 
 seeing the force under Lee descending on his rear from Free- 
 hold heights, had suddenly turned upon it, aided by troops from 
 Knyphausen's division, to oblige it to call to its assistance the 
 flanking parties under Morgan and Dickinson, which were 
 threatening his baggage train. So that Lee, instead of a mere 
 
1778.] THE BRITISH DECAMP. 397 
 
 covering party which he had expected to cut off, had found him- 
 self front to front with the whole rear division of the British army; 
 and that too, on unfavorable ground, with a deep ravine and a 
 morass in his rear. He endeavored to form his troops for action. 
 Oswald's artillery began to play, and there was some skirmish- 
 ing with the enemy's light-horse, in which they were repulsed. 
 But mistakes occurred ; orders were misunderstood ; one corps 
 after another fell back, until the whole retreated, almost without 
 a struggle, before an inferior force. Lee, himself, seemed to 
 partake of the confusion ; taking no pains to check the retro- 
 grade movement, nor to send notice of it to the main body upon 
 which they were falUng back. 
 
 At daybreak the drums beat the reveille. The troops roused 
 themselves from their heavy sleep, and prepared for action. To 
 their surprise, the enemy had disappeared : there was a deserted 
 camp, in which were found four officers and about forty privates, 
 too severely wounded to be conveyed away by the retreating army. 
 Clinton had allowed his weary troops but short repose on the pre- 
 ceding night. At ten o'clock, when the American forces were 
 buried in their first sleep, he had set forward to join the division 
 under Knyphausen, which, with the baggage train, having pushed 
 on during the action, was far on the road to Middletown. So 
 silent had been his retreat, that it was unheard by Gen. Poor's 
 advance party, which lay near by. The distance to which the 
 enemy must by this time have attained, the extreme heat of the 
 weather, and the condition of the troops, deterred Washington 
 from continuing a pursuit through a country where the roads were 
 deep and sandy, and there was a great scarcity of water. Detach- 
 ing Gen. Maxwell's brigade and Morgan's rifle corps, therefore, to 
 hang on the rear of the enemy, prevent depredation and encour- 
 age desertions, he determined to shape his course with his main 
 body by Brunswick towards the Hudson, lest Sir Henry should 
 have any design upon the post there. The American loss in the 
 recent battle was eight officers and sixty-one privates killed, and 
 about one hundred and sixty wounded. Among the slain were 
 Lieutenant-colonel Bonner of Pennsylvania, and Major Dickinson 
 of Virginia, both greatly regretted. The officers who had charge 
 of the burying parties reported that they found two hundred and 
 forty-five non-commissioned officers and privates, and four officers, 
 left dead by the enemy on the field of battle. There were fresh 
 graves in the vicinity also, into which the enemy had hurried their 
 slain before retreating. The number of prisoners, including those 
 found wounded, was upwards of one hundred. Some of the 
 troops on both sides had perished in the morass, some were found 
 on the border of a stream which ran through it among alder 
 bushes, whither, overcome by heat, fatigue and thirst, they had 
 crawled to drink and die. Col. Monckton, who fell so bravely 
 when leading on his grenadiers, was interred in the burial-ground 
 of the Freehold meeting-house, upon a stone of which edifice his 
 name is rudely cut. 
 
 Washington's march lay through a country destitute of water, 
 
398 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 with deep, sandy roads wearying to the feet, and reflecting the 
 intolerable heat and glare of a July sun. Many of the troops, 
 harassed by previous fatigue, gave out by the way. He encamped 
 near Brunswick on open, airy grounds, and gave them time to 
 repose ; while Lieut. -Col. Aaron Burr, at that time a young and 
 enterprising officer, was sent on a reconnoitring expedition, to learn 
 the movements and intentions of the enemy. Sir Henry Clinton 
 with the royal army had arrived at the Highlands of Navesink, in 
 the neighborhood of Sandy Hook, on the 30th of June. He had 
 lost many men by desertion, Hessians especially, during his march 
 through the Jerseys, which, with his losses by killed, wounded and 
 captured, had diminished his army more than two thousand men. 
 The storms of the preceding winter had cut off the peninsula of 
 Sandy Hook from the main land, and formed a deep channel 
 between them. Fortunately, the squadron of Lord Howe had 
 arrived the day before, and was at anchor Avithin the Hook. A 
 bridge was immediately made across the channel with the boats of 
 the ships, over which the army passed to the Hook on the 5th of 
 July, and thence was distributed. It was now encamped in three 
 divisions on Staten Island, Long Island, and the island of New 
 York : apparently without any immediate design of offensive oper- 
 ations. There was a vigorous press in New York to man the large 
 ships and fit them for sea, but this was in consequence of a report 
 that a F'rench fleet had* arrived on the coast. Relieved by this 
 intelligence from all apprehensions of an expedition by the enemy 
 up the Hudson, Washington relaxed the speed of his movements, 
 and halted for a few days at Paramus, sparing his troops as much 
 as possible during the extreme summer heats. 
 
 Lee wrote two more notes, and closed with an entreaty, "that 
 you will immediately exhibit your charge, and that on the first 
 halt I may be brought to a trial." Washington replied: " I have 
 sent Col. Scammel and the adjutant-general, to put you under 
 arrrest, who wi»!l deliver you a copy of the charges on which you 
 will be tried." The following were the charges: ist. Disobedi- 
 ence of orders, in not attacking the enemy on the 28th of June, 
 agreeably to repeated instructions. 2d. Misbehavior before the 
 enemy on the same day, by making an unnecessary, disorderly, 
 and shameful retreat. 3d. Disrespect to the commander-in-chief 
 in two letters, dated the 1st of July, and the 28th of June. — A 
 court-martial was accordingly formed on the 4th of July, at 
 Brunswick, the first halting place. It was composed of one 
 major-general, four brigadiers, and eight colonels, with Lord Stir- 
 ling as president. It moved with the army, and convened subse- 
 quently at Paramus, Peekskill, and Northcastle, the trial lasting 
 until the 12th of August. From the time it commenced, Wash- 
 ington never mentioned Lee's name when he could avoid it, and 
 when he could not, he mentioned it without the smallest degree of 
 acrimony or disrespect. Lee, on the contrary, indulged his natural 
 irritabihty of temper and sharpness of tongue. When put on his 
 guard against any intemperate railings against Washington, as cal- 
 culated to injure his cause, he spurned at the advice, " No 
 
1778.] LEE SUSPENDED AND RETIRES. 399 
 
 attack, it seems, can be made on General Washington but it must 
 recoil on the assailant. I never entertained the most distant wish 
 or intention of attacking General Washington. I have ever hon- 
 ored and respected him as a man and a citizen." 
 
 In the repeated sessions of the court-martial and the long exam- 
 inations which took place, many of the unfavorable impressions 
 first received, concerning the conduct and motives of Lee, were 
 softened. He defended himself with abiUty, and contended that 
 after the troops had commenced to fall back, in consequence of a 
 retrograde movements of Gen. Scott, he had intended to form them 
 on the first advantageous ground he could find, and that none such 
 presented itself until he reached the place where he met General 
 Washington; on which very place he had intended to make 
 battle. This retreat, said he, "though necessary, was brought 
 about contrary to my orders, contrary to my intention ; and, if any- 
 thing can deduct from my credit, it is, that I did not ^^^/^r a retreat 
 which was so necessary." Judge Mai-shall observed of the variety 
 of reasons given by Lee in justification of his retreat, "if they do 
 not absolutely establish its propriety, they give it so questionable a 
 form, as to render it probable that a public examination never 
 would have taken place, could his proud spirit have stooped to offer 
 explanation instead of outrage to the commander-in-chief." The re- 
 sult of the prolonged and tedious investigation was, that he was found 
 guilty of all the charges exhibited against him; the second charge, 
 however, was softened by omitting the word shanuful, and con- 
 victing him of making an " unnecessary, and in some instances a 
 disorderly retreat." He was sentenced to be suspended from all 
 command for one year : the sentence to be approved or set aside 
 by Congress, He was not connected with subsequent events of the 
 Revolution, Congress were more than three months in coming to 
 a decision on the proceedings of the court-martial. As the House 
 always sat with closed doors, the debates on the subject are un- 
 known, but are said to have been warm. At length, on the 5th of 
 Dec. the sentence was approved in a very thin session of Congress, 
 fifteen members voting in the affirmative and seven in the negative. 
 From that time Lee was unmeasured in his abuse of W^ashington, 
 and his reprobation of the court-martial, which he termed a *' court 
 of inquisition." His aggressive tongue at length involved him in a 
 quarrel with Col. Laurens, one of Washington's aides, a high-spirited 
 young gentleman, who felt himself bound to vindicate the honor of 
 his chief. A duel took place, and Lee was wounded in the side. 
 Towards spring he retired to his estate in Berkley County in 
 Virginia, " to learn to hoe tobacco, which," observes he with a sar- 
 castic innuendo at Washington, " is the best school to form a con- 
 summate General. This is a discovery I have lately made." He 
 led a kind of hermit life on his estate : dogs and horses were his 
 favorite companions. His house is described as being a mere shell, 
 destitute of comforts and conveniences. For want of partitions the 
 different parts were designated by lines chalked on the floor. In 
 one corner was his bed ; in another were his books : his saddles 
 and harness in a third ; a fourth served as a kitchen. " Sir," said 
 
40O LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 he to a visitor, "it is the most convenient and economical establish- 
 ment in the world. The lines of chalk which you see on the floor, 
 mark the division of the apartments, and I can sit in any corner and 
 overlook the whole without moving from my chair." The term of 
 his suspension had expired, when a rumor reached him that Con- 
 gress intended to take away his commission. In his hurry and 
 heat, he scrawled the following note to the Rresident of Congress ; 
 "Sir, I understand that it is in contemplation of Congress, on the 
 principle of economy, to strike me out of their service. Congress 
 must know very little of me, if they suppose that I would accept of 
 their money, since the confirmation of the wicked and infamous 
 sentence which was passed upon me." This insolent note occas- 
 ioned his prompt dismissal from the service. He did not complain 
 of it ; but in a subsequent and respectful letter to the president, 
 said, " I must entreat, in the acknowledging of the impropriety and 
 indecorum of my conduct in this affair, it may not be supposed that 
 I mean to court a restoration to the rank I held ; so far from it, that 
 I do assure you, had not the incident fallen out, I should have 
 requested Congress to accept my resignation." Though bitter in 
 his enmities, Lee had his friendships, and was warm and constant 
 in them as far as his capricious humors would allow. He was not a 
 man for the sweet solitude of the country. He became weary of 
 his Virginia estate ; though in one of the most fertile regions of the 
 Shenandoah Valley. His farm was mismanaged; his agents were 
 imfaithful ; he entered into negotiations to dispose of his property, 
 in the course of which he visited Philadelphia. On arriving there, 
 he was taken with chills, followed by a fever, which went on in- 
 creasing in violence, and terminated fatally. A soldier even unto 
 the end, warlike scenes mingled with the delirium of his malady. 
 In his dying moments he fancied himself on the field of battle. 
 The last words he was heard to utter were, "Stand by me, my 
 brave grenadiers ! " He left a will and testament strongly marked 
 by his peculiarities. There are bequests to intimates of horses, 
 weapons, and sums to purchase rings of affection ; ample and gen- 
 erous provisions for domestics, one of whom he styles his " old and 
 faithful servant, or rather, humble friend." All his residuary prop- 
 erty to go to his sister Sidney Lee and her heirs. Eccentric to the 
 last, one clause of his will regards his sepulture: "I desire most 
 earnestly that I may not be buried in any church or churchyard, 
 or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist meeting-house ; 
 for, since I have resided in this country, I have kept so much bad 
 company while living, that I do not choose to continue it when 
 dead." This part of his will was not complied with. He was 
 buried with military honors in the cemetery of Christ church. The 
 magnanimity exhibited by Washington in regard to Lee while living, 
 continued after his death. He never spoke of him with asperity, 
 but did justice to liis merits, acknowledging that "he possessed 
 many great qualities." 
 
 While encamped at Paramus, Washington, in the night of the 
 13th of July, received a letter from Congress informing him of th^ 
 arrival of a French fleet on the coast ; instructing him to concert 
 
1778.] OUR FRENCH ALLIES. 401 
 
 measures with the commander, the Count D'Estaing, for offen- 
 sive operations by sea and land, and empowering him to call on the 
 States from New Hampshire to New Jersey inclusive, to aid with 
 their militia. The fleet in question was composed of twelve ships 
 of the hne and six frigates, with a land force of four thousand men. 
 On board of it came Mons. Gerard, minister from P>ance to the 
 United States, and the Hon. Silas Deane, one of the American 
 ministers who had effected the late treaty of alliance. The fleet 
 had sailed from Toulon on the 13th of April. After struggling 
 against adverse winds it had made its appearance off the northern 
 extremity of the Virginia coast, and anchored at the mouth of the 
 Delaware, on the eighth of July. Thence the count despatched a 
 letter to Washington, dated at sea. •' I have the honor of impart- 
 ing to your Excellency," writes he, "the arrival of the king's fleet, 
 charged by his majesty with the glorious task of giving his allies, 
 the United States of America, the most striking proofs of his affec- 
 tion. Nothing will be wanting to my happiness, if I can succeed 
 in it. It is augmented by the consideration of concerting my 
 operations with a General such as your Excellency. The talents 
 and great actions of Gen. Washington have insured him, in the eyes 
 of all Europe, the title truly sublime of Deliverer of Amer- 
 ica." The count was unfortunate in the length of his voyage. Had 
 he arrived in ordinary time, he might have entrapped Lord Howe's 
 squadron in the river : cooperated with Washington in investing the 
 British anny by sea and land, and by cutting off its retreat to New 
 York, compelled it to surrender. Finding the enemy had 
 'evacuated both city and river, the count sent up the French minis- 
 ter and Mr. Deane to Philadelphia in a frigate, and then putting 
 to sea, continued along the coast. When he arrived with his fleet 
 in the road outside of Sandy Hook, he descried the British ships 
 quietly anchored inside of it. 
 
 A frank and cordial correspondence took place forthwith between 
 the count and Washington, and a plan of action was concerted 
 between them by the intervention of confidential officers ; Washing- 
 ton's aides-de-camp, Laurens and Hamilton, boarding the fleet 
 while off the Hook, and Major Chouin, a French officer of merit, 
 repairing to the American headquarters. Several experienced 
 American pilots and masters of vessels, declared that there was not 
 sufficient depth of water on the bar to admit the safe passage of the 
 largest ships, one of which carried 80 and another 90 guns : the 
 attempt, therefore, was reluctantly abandoned ; and the ships an- 
 chored about four miles off, near Shrewsbury on the Jersey coast, 
 taking in provisions and water. On the 22d of July, the fleet ap- 
 peared again in full force off the bar at Sandy Hook. The British, 
 who supposed they had only been waiting on the Shrewsbury coast 
 for the high tides of the latter part of July, now prepared for a des- 
 perate conflict ; and, indeed, had the French fleet been enabled to 
 enter, it is difficult to conceive a more terrible and destructive 
 struggle than would have ensued between these gallant and deadly 
 rivals, with their powerful armaments brought side to side, and 
 cramped up in so confined a field of action. D'Estaing, however. 
 
402 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 stood away to the eastward, and on the 29th arrived off Point Judith, 
 coming to anchor within five miles of Newport. 
 
 Rhode Island (proper,) the object of this expedition, is about six- 
 teen miles long, running deep into the great Narraganset Bay. 
 Seaconnet Channel separates it on the east from the mainland, and 
 on the west the main channel passes between it and Conanicut 
 Island. The town of Newport is situated near the south end of the 
 island, facing the west, with Conanicut Island in front of it. It was 
 protected by batteries and a small naval force. Here General Sir 
 Robert Pigott, who commanded in the island, had his headquarters. 
 The force under him was about six thousand strong, the greater 
 part within strongly intrenched lines extending across the island, 
 about three miles from the town. Gen. Greene hastened from 
 Providence on hearing of the arrival of the fleet of Count D'Esta- 
 ing, and went on board of it at the anchorage to concert a plan of 
 operations. It was agreed that the fleet should force its way into 
 the harbor at the same time that the Americans approached by land, 
 and that the landing of the troops from the ships on the west side 
 of the island should take place at the same time that the Ameri- 
 cans should cross Seaconnet Channel, and landed on the east side 
 near the north end. This combined operation was postponed until 
 the loth of August, to give time for the reinforcements sent by 
 Washington to arrive. The delay was fatal to the enterprise. On 
 the 8th, the Count D'Estaing entered the harbor and passed up he 
 main channel, exchanging a cannonade with the batteries as he 
 passed, and anchored a little above the town, between Goat and 
 Conanicut Islands. Gen. Sullivan, to be ready for the concerted 
 attack, had moved down from Providence to the neighborhood of 
 Rowlands Ferry, on the east side of Seaconnet passage. The 
 British troops stationed opposite on the north end of the island, 
 fearful of being cut off, evacuated their works in the night of the 
 Stli, and drew into the lines at Newport. SuUivan, seeing the works 
 thus abandoned, could not resist the temptation to cross the 
 channel in flat-bottomed boats on the morning of the 9th, and take 
 possession of them. This sudden movement, a day in advance of the 
 concerted time, and without due notice given to the count, surprised 
 and offended him, clashing with his notions of etiquette and punc- 
 tillio. He, however, prepared to cooperate, and was ordering out 
 his boats for the purpose, when, about two o'clock in the day, he 
 saw a great fleet of ships standing towards Newport. It was the 
 fleet of Lord Howe, who, being reinforced by four stout ships, 
 part of a squadron coming out under Admiral Byron, had hastened 
 to the relief of Newport, though still inferior in force to the French 
 admiral. The delay of the concerted attack had enabled him to 
 arrive in time. The wind set directly into the harbor. His lord- 
 ship stood in near the land, communicated with Pigott, and having 
 informed himself exactly of the situation of the French fleet, came 
 to anchor at Point Judith, some distance from the southwest ent- 
 rance of the bay. In the night the wind changed to the northeast. 
 Favored by the wind the Count stood out of the harbor at eight 
 o'clock in the morning to give the enemy battle where he should 
 
1/78.] D'ESTAING AT RHODE ISLAND, 403 
 
 have good sea room; previously sending word to Gen. Sullivan, 
 who had advanced the preceding afternoon to Quaker Hill, about 
 ten miles north of Newport, that he should land his promised troops 
 and marines, and cooperate with him on his return. The P'rench 
 ships were severely cannonaded as they passed the batteries, but 
 without material damage. Forming in order of battle, they bore 
 down upon the fleet of Lord Howe, confidently anticipating a vic- 
 tory from their superiority of force. The British ships slipt their 
 cables at their approach, and likewise formed in line of battle. To 
 gain the weathergage on the one part, and retain in on the other, 
 the two fleets manoeuvred throughout the day, standing to the 
 southward, and gradually disappearing from the anxious eyes of 
 the belligerent forces on Rhode Island. 
 
 The army of SulUvan, now left to itself before Newport, 
 amounted to ten thousand men. Lafayette advised the delay of 
 hostile operations until the return of D'Estaing, but the American 
 commander, piqued and chagrined at the departure of his allies, 
 determined to commence the seige immediately, without waiting 
 for his tardy aid. On the twelfth, however, came on a tempest 
 of wind and rain, which raged for two days and nights with 
 unexampled violence. Tents were blown down ; several soldiers 
 and many horses perished, and a great part of the amunition 
 recently dealt out to the troops was destroyed. On the 14th, 
 the weather cleared up and the sun shone brightly, but the 
 army was worn down and dispirited. The day was passed in 
 drying their clothes, cleaning their arms, and putting themselves 
 in order for action. The next morning they took post on Hon- 
 eyman's Hill, about two miles from the British lines, and began 
 to construct batteries, form lines of communication, and make 
 regular approaches. The British were equally active in strength- 
 ening their defences. There was causal cannonading on each side, 
 but nothing of consequence. The situation of the besiegers was 
 growing critical, when, on the evening of the 19th, they descried 
 the French fleet standing towards the harbor. It was in a shat- 
 tered and forlorn condition. After sailing from before Newport, 
 on the 20th, it had manoeuvred for two days with the British fleet, 
 each unwilling to enter into action without having the weathergage. 
 While thus pianoeuvering, the same furious storm which had raged 
 on shore separated and dispersed them with fearful ravage. Lord 
 Howe with such of his ships as he could collect bore away to New 
 York to refit, and the French admiral was now before Newport, 
 but in no plight or mood for fighting. Gen. Greene and the Mar- 
 quis Lafayette repaired on board of the admiral's ship. They 
 represented to the count the certainty of carrying the place in two 
 days, by a combined attack; and the discouragement and reproach 
 that would follow a failure on this their first attempt at coopera- 
 tion; an attempt, too, for which the Americans had made such 
 great and expensive preparations, and on which they had indulged 
 such sanguine hopes. All the general officers, excepting Lafay- 
 ette, joined in signing and sending a protest against the departure 
 of the fleet for Boston, as derogatory to the honor of France, con- 
 
404 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 trary to the intention of his most Christian majesty and the interest 
 of his nation, destructive of the welfare of the United States, and 
 highly injurious to the alliance formed between the two nations. 
 The count was deeply offended by the tone of the protest, and the 
 manner in which it was conveyed to him. He declared that " this 
 paper imposed on the commander of the king's squadron the pain- 
 ful, but necessary law of profound silence." He continued his 
 course to Boston. The departure of the fleet was a death blow to 
 the enterprise. Between two and three thousand volunteers aban- 
 doned the camp in the course of four and twenty hours; others 
 continued to go off; desertions occurred among the militia, and in 
 a few days the number of besiegers did not exceed that of the 
 besieged. The harbors of Rhode Island being now free, and open 
 to the enemy, reinforcements might pour in from New York, and 
 render the withdrawal of the troops disastrous, if not impossible. 
 To prepare for rapid retreat, if necessary, all the heavy artillery 
 that could be spared, was sent off from the island. Gen. Sullivan 
 commenced his retreat between nine and ten o'clock, on the night 
 of the 28th, the army retiring by two roads ; the rear covered by 
 parties of light troops, under Colonels Livingston and Laurens. 
 Their retreat was not discovered until daylight, when a pursuit was 
 commenced. Sullivan had taken post on Batt's Hill, the main 
 body of his army being drawn up in order of battle, with strong 
 works in their rear, and a redoubt in front of the right wing. The 
 British now took post on an advantageous height called Quaker 
 Hill, a little more than a mile from the American front. Skirmish- 
 ing ensued until about ten o clock, when two British sloops-of-war 
 and some small vessels having gained a favorable position, the 
 enemy's troops, under cover of their fire, advanced in force to 
 turn the right flank of the American army, and capture the redoubt 
 which protected it. This was bravely defended by Gen. Greene : 
 between two and three hundred men were killed on each side ; the 
 British at length drew back to their artillery and works on Quaker 
 Hill, awaiting reinforcements. Gen. Sullivan determined to aban- 
 don Rhode Island. The position on Batt's Hill favored a decep- 
 tion. Tents were brought forward and pitched in sight of the 
 enemy, and a great part of the troops employed throughout the 
 day in throwing up works, as if the post was to be resolutely 
 maintained; at the same time, the heavy baggage and* stores were 
 quietly conveyed away in the rear of the hill, and ferried across 
 the bay. As soon as it was dark the tents were struck, fires were 
 lighted at various points, the troops withdrawn, and by two o'clock 
 the whole were transported across the channel to the mainland. 
 The army had reason to icongratulate themselves on the course 
 they had taken, and the quickness of their movements ; for the 
 very next day Sir Henry Clinton arrived at Newport in a light 
 squadron, with a reinforcement of four thousand men, a naval and 
 land force that might effectually have cut off Sullivan's retreat, had 
 he lingered on the island. Sir Henry returned to New York, but 
 first detached Major-general Sir Charles Grey with the troops, on 
 a ravaging expedition to the eastward ; chiefly against ports which 
 
1778.] MASSACRE OF WYOMING. 405 
 
 were the haunts of privateers. He destroyed more than seventy 
 vessels in Acushnet River, some of them privateers with their 
 prizes, others peaceful merchant ships. New Bedford and Fair 
 Haven having been made military and naval deposits, were laid 
 waste, wharves demolished, rope-walks, storehouses and mills, 
 with several private dwellings, wrapped in flames. Similar destruc- 
 tion was effected at the Island of Martha's Vineyard, a resort of 
 privateers. 
 
 The failure of the enterprise was generally attributed to the 
 departure of the French fleet from Newport. Count D'Estaing 
 and the other French officers were irritated by the protests of the 
 American officers. Nothing perhaps tended more to soothe the 
 Count's wounded sensibilities, than a letter from Washington, 
 couched in the most delicate and considerate language. " If the 
 deepest regret, that the best concerted enterprise and bravest exer- 
 tions should have been rendered fruitless by a disaster, which human 
 prudence was incapable ot foreseeing or preventing, can alleviate 
 disappointment, you may be assured that the whole continent sym- 
 pathizes with you. It will be a consolation to you to reflect, that 
 the thinking part of mankind do not form their judgment from 
 events ; and that their equity will ever attach equal glory to those 
 actions Avhich deserve success, and those who have been crowned 
 with it. It is in the trying circumstances to which your excellency 
 has been exposed, that the virtues of a great mind are displayed 
 in their brightest lustre, and that a general's character is better 
 known than in the hour of victory. It was yours, by every title 
 which can give it ; and the adverse element, which robbed you of 
 your prize, can never deprive you of the glory due you." 
 
 Meantime Indian warfare, with all its atrocity, was going on in 
 the interior. The British post at Niagara was its cradle. It was 
 the common rallying place of tories, refugees, savage warriors, 
 and other desperadoes of the frontiers. Hither Brant, the noted 
 Indian chief, had retired after the repulse of St. Leger at Fort 
 Schuyler, to plan further mischief; and here was concerted the 
 memorable incursion into the Valley of Wyoming, a beautiful 
 region lying along the Susquehanna. Peaceful as was its aspect, 
 it had been the scene of sanguinary feuds prior to the Revolution, 
 between the people of Pennsylvania and Connecticut, who both 
 laid claim to it. Seven rural forts or block-houses, situated on 
 various parts of the valley, had been strongholds during these 
 territorial contests, and remained as places of refuge for women 
 and children in times of Indian ravage. The expedition now- 
 set on foot against it, in June, was composed of Butler's rangers, 
 Johnson's royal greens, and Brant, Avith his Indian braves. Their 
 united force, about eleven hundred strong, was conducted by 
 Co'. John Butler, renowned in Indian warfare. Passing down 
 the Chemung and Susquehanna in canoes, they landed at a 
 place called Three Islands, and struck through the wilderness to 
 a gap or " notch" of the mountains, by which they entered the 
 Valley of Wyoming. Butler made his headquarters at one of 
 the strongholds already mentioned, called Wintermoot's Fort, 
 
4o6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 from a toiy family of the same name. Hence he sent out his 
 marauding parties to plunder and lay waste the country. Ru- 
 mors of this intended invasion had reached the valley some time 
 before the appearance of the enemy, and had spread great con- 
 sternation. Most of the sturdy yeomanry were absent in the 
 army. A company of sixty men styling themselves regulars, 
 took post at one of the strongholds called P'orty Fort; where 
 they were joined by about three hundred of the most efficient 
 yeomanry, armed and equipped in rude rustic style. In this 
 emergency old men and boys volunteered to meet the common 
 danger, posting themselves in the smaller forts in which women 
 and children had taken refuge. Col. Zcbulon Butler, an officer 
 of the continental army, took the general command. The ma- 
 rauding parties sent out by Col. John Butler and Brant were 
 spreading desolation through the valley; farm houses were 
 wrapped in flames; husbandmen were murdered while at work in 
 the fields; all who liad not taken refuge in the fort were threat- 
 ened with destruction. Leaving the women and children in Forty 
 Fort, Col. Zebulon Butler with his men sallied forth on the 3rd 
 of July, and made a rapid move upon Wintermoot Fort, hoping 
 to come upon it by surprise. They found the enemy drawn up 
 in front cf it, in a line extending from the river to a marsh; Col. 
 John Butler and his rangers, with Johnson's royal greens, on the 
 left; Indians and tories on the right. 
 
 The Americans formed a line of the same extent ; the regulars 
 under Col. Butler on the right flank, resting on the river, the miH- 
 tia under Col. Denison on the left wing, on the marsh. A sharp 
 fire was opened from right to left ; after a few volleys the enemy in 
 front of Col. Butler began to give way. The Indians, however, 
 throwing themselves into the marsh, turned the left flank of the 
 Americans, and attacked the militia in the rear. Denison, finding 
 himself exposed to a cross fire, sought to change his position, and 
 gave the word to fall back. It was mistaken for an order to 
 retreat. In an instant, the left wing turned and fled ; all attempts 
 to rally it were in vain; the panic extended to the right wing. The 
 savages, throwing down their rifles, rushed on with tomahawks 
 and scalping-knife, and a horrible massacre ensued. Some of the 
 Americans escaped to Forty Fort, some swam the river ; others 
 broke their way across the swamp, and climbed the mountain ; 
 some few were taken prisoners ; but the greater number were 
 slaughtered. The desolation of the valley was now completed ; 
 fields were laid waste, houses burnt, and their inhabitants mur- 
 dered. Upwards of five thousand persons fled in the utmost dis- 
 tress and consternation, seeking refuge in the setdements on the 
 Lehigh and Delaware. It was one of the most atrocious outrages 
 perpetrated throughout the war ; and, as usual, the tories con- 
 cerned in it were the most vindictive and merciless of the savage 
 crew. 
 
 For a great part of the summer, Washington had remained 
 encamped at White Plains, watching the movements of the enemy 
 at New York. Early it September he observed a great stir of 
 
1778.] ATTACK ON LITTLE EGG HARBOR. 407 
 
 pvepaiation ; cannon and military stores were embarked, and a 
 fleet of one hundred and forty transports were ready to make 
 sail. Washington strengthened the works and reinforced the gar- 
 rison in the Highlands, stationing Putnam with two brigades in 
 the neighborhood of West Point. He moved his camp to a rear 
 position at Fredericksburg on the borders of Connecticut, and 
 about thirty miles from West Point, so as to be ready for a move- 
 ment to the eastward or a speedy junction for the defence of the Hud- 
 son. Scarce had he moved from White Plains, when Clinton threw a 
 detachment of five thousand men under Cornwallis into the Jer- 
 seys, between the Hackensack and Hudson rivers, and another of 
 three thousand under Knyphausen into Westchester county, be- 
 tween the Hudson and the Bronx. These detachments, by the 
 aid of flat-bottomed boats, could unite their forces in twenty-four 
 hours, on either side of the Hudson. Washington considered 
 these mere foraging expeditions, though on a large scale, and 
 detached troops into the Jerseys to cooperate with the militia in 
 checking them ; but he ordered Gen. Putnam to cross the river to 
 West Point, for its immediate security : while he himself moved 
 with a division of his army to Fishkill. Wayne, who was with 
 the detachment in the Jerseys, took post with a body of militia 
 and a regiment of light-horse in front of the division of Lord 
 Cornwallis. The militia were quartered at the village of New 
 Tappan ; but Lieut. Baylor, who commanded the light-horse, took 
 up his quarters in Old Tappan, where his men lay very negligently 
 and unguardedly in barns. Cornwallis laid a plan to cut off the 
 whole detachment. Fortunately the militia were apprised by 
 deserters of their danger in time to escape. Not so with Baylor's 
 party. Gen. Grey, of marauding renown, having cut off a ser- 
 geant's patrol, advanced in silence, and surrounded with his 
 troops three barns in which the dragoons were sleeping. To pre- 
 vent noise he had caused his men to draw the charges and take 
 the flints from their guns, and fix their bayonets. They rushed 
 forward, and deaf for a time to all cries for mercy, made a savage 
 slaughter of naked and defenceless men. Eleven were killed 011 
 the spot, and twenty-five mangled with repeated thrusts, some 
 receiving ten, twelve, and even sixteen wounds. Among the 
 wounded were Col. Baylor and Major Clough, the last of whom 
 soon died. About forty were taken prisoners. 
 
 This movement of troops, on both sides of the Hudson, was 
 designed to cover an expedition against Little Egg Harbor, on the 
 east coast of New Jersey, a noted rendezvous of American priva- 
 teers. Three hundred regular troops, and a body of royalist vol- 
 unteers from the Jerseys, headed by Capt. Patrick Ferguson, 
 embarked at New York on board galleys and transports, and 
 made for Little Egg Harbor under convoy of vessels of war. 
 The country heard of their coming ; four privateers put to sea and 
 escaped ; others took refuge up the river. The wind prevented 
 the transports from entering. The troops embarked in row gal- 
 leys and small craft, and pushed twenty miles up the river to the 
 village of Chestnut Neck. Here were batteries without guns. 
 
4o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 prize ships which had been hastily scuttled, and storehouses for 
 the reception of prize goods. The batteries and storehouses were 
 demolished, the prize ships burnt, saltworks destroyed and private 
 dwellings sacked and laid in ashes. Among the forces detached 
 by Washington into the Jerseys to check these ravages, was the 
 Count Pulaski's legionary corps, composed of three companies of 
 foot, and a troop of horse, officered principally by foreigners. 
 The legion was cantoned about twelve miles up the river ; the 
 infantry in three houses by themselves ; Count Pulaski with the 
 cavalry at some distance apart. Ferguson embarked in boats 
 with two hundred and fifty men, ascended the river in the night, 
 landed at four in the morning, and surrounded the houses in which 
 the infantry were sleeping. Fifty were butchered on the spot ; 
 among whom were two of the foreign officers, the Baron de Bose 
 and Lieut, la Broderic. The clattering of hoofs gave note of the 
 approach of Pulaski and his horse, whereupon the British made a 
 rapid retreat to their boats and pulled down the river. 
 
 The detachment on the east side of the Hudson likewise 
 made a predatory and disgraceful foray from their lines 
 at ^ King's Bridge towards the American encampment at 
 White Plains, plundering the inhabitants without discrimination, 
 not only of their provisions and forage, but of the very clothes on. 
 their backs. None were more efficient in this ravage than a 
 party of about one hundred of Capt. Donop's Hessian yagers, 
 and they were in full maraud between Tarr>'town and Dobb's 
 Ferry, when a detachment of infantry under Col. Richard Butler, 
 and of cavalry under Major Henry Lee, came upon them by sur- 
 prise, killed ten of them on the spot, captured a heutenant and 
 eighteen privates, and would have taken or destroyed the whole, 
 had not the extreme roughness of the country impeded the action 
 of the cavalry, and enabled the yagers to escape by scrambhng 
 up hill-sides or plunging into ravines. The British detachments 
 having accomplished the main objects of their movements, 
 returned to New York ; leaving those parts of the country they 
 had harassed still more determined in their hostility, having 
 achieved nothing but what is the least honorable and most detest- 
 able in warfare. 
 
 A fleet of transports with five thousand men, under Gen, Grant, 
 convoyed by Com. Hotham with a squadron of six ships of 
 war, set sail from New York on the third of November, with the 
 secret design of an attack on St. Lucia. Towards the end of the 
 same month, another body of troops, under Lieut. -Col. Campbell, 
 sailed for Georgia in the squadron of Commodore Hyde Parker ; 
 the British cabinet having determined to carry the war into the 
 Southern States. At the same time Gen. Provost, who commanded 
 in Florida, was ordered by Sir Henry Clinton to march to the 
 banks of the Savannah River, and attack Georgia in flank while 
 the expedition under Campbell should attack it in front on the sea- 
 board. The squadron of Com. Parker anchored in the Savannah 
 River towards the end of December. An American force of 
 about six hundred regulars and a few miUtia under Gen. Robert 
 
17/8-9.] WASHINGTON'S WINTER QUARTERS, 409 
 
 Howe, were encamped near the town, being a remnant of the 
 army with which that officer had invaded Florida in the preceding 
 summer, but had been obliged to evacuate it by a mortal malady 
 which desolated his camp. Campbell landed his troops on the 
 29th of December, about three miles below the town. The whole 
 country bordering the river is a deep morass, cut up by creeks, 
 and only to be traversed by causeways. Gen. Howe had posted his 
 little army on the main road with the river on his left and a 
 morass in front. A negro gave Campbell information of a path 
 leading through the morass, by which troops might get unob- 
 served to the rear of the Americans. Sir James liaird was 
 detached with the light infantry by this path, while Col. Camp- 
 bell advanced in front. The Americans, thus suddenly attacked 
 in front and rear, were completely routed ; upward of one hun- 
 dred were either killed on the spot, or perished in the morass ; 
 thirty-eight officers and four hundred and fifteen privates were 
 taken prisoners; the rest retreated up the Savannah River and 
 crossed into South Carolina. Savannah, the capital of Georgia, 
 was taken possession of by the victors, with cannon, military 
 stores and provisions ; their loss was only seven killed and nine- 
 teen wounded. General Prevost, who commanded the British 
 forces in Florida, traversed deserts to the southern frontier of 
 Georgia, took Sunbury, and marched to Savannah, where he 
 assumed the general command, detaching Gol. Campbell against 
 Augusta. By the middle of January (1779) all Georgia was 
 •reduced to submission. 
 
 About the beginning of December, Washington distributed his 
 troops for the winter in a line of strong cantonments extending 
 from Long Island Sound to the Delaware. Gen. Putnam com- 
 manded at Danbury, Gen. McDougall in the Highlands, while the 
 head-quarters of the commander-in-chief were near Middlebrook 
 in the Jerseys. He devised a plan of alarm signals, which Gen. 
 Philemon Dickinson was employed to carry into effect. On Bottle 
 Hill, which commanded a vast map of country, sentinels kept 
 watch day and night. Should there be an irruption of the enemy, 
 an eighteen pounder called the Old Sow, fired every half hour, 
 gave the alarm in the day time or in dark and stormy nights ; an 
 immense fire or beacon at other times. On the booming of that 
 heavy gun, hghts sprang up from hill to hill along the different 
 ranges of heights; the country was aroused, and the yeomanry, 
 hastily armed, hurried to their gathering places. 
 
 Much of the winter was passed by Washington in Philadelphia, 
 occupied in devising and discussing plans for the campaign of 
 1779. It was an anxious moment with him. Circumstances which 
 inspired others with confidence, filled him with solicitude. The 
 alliance with France had produced a baneful feeling of security, 
 which, it appeared to him, was paralyzing the energies of the 
 country. England, it was thought, would now be too much occu- 
 pied in securing her position in Europe, to increase her force or 
 extend her operations in America. Many, therefore, considered 
 the war as virtually at an end ; and were unwilling to make tn^ 
 
41 o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 sacrifices, or supply the means necessary for important military 
 undertakings. Many of those whose names had been as 
 watchwords at the Declaration of Independence, had with- 
 drawn from the national councils ; occupied either by their indi- 
 vidual affairs, or by the affairs of their individual States. 
 Washington, whose comprehensive patriotism embraced the whole 
 Union, deprecated and deplored the dawning of this sectional 
 spirit. America, he declared, had never stood more in need of the 
 wise, patriotic, and spirited exertions of her sons than at this 
 period. "Our political system," observed he, "is like the 
 mechanism of a clock ; it is useless to keep the smaller wheels in 
 order, if the greater one, the prime mover of the whole, is 
 neglected." It was his wish, therefore, that each State should 
 choose its ablest men to attend Congress, instructed to investigate 
 and reform public abuses. 
 
 The participation of France in the war, and the prospect that 
 Spain would soon be embroiled with England, must certainly 
 divide the attention of the enemy, and allow America a breathing 
 time; these and similar considerations were urged by Washington 
 in favor of a defensive policy. One single exception was made 
 by him. The horrible ravages and massacres perpetrated by the 
 Indians and their tory allies at Wyoming, had been followed by 
 similar atrocities at Cherry Valley, in the State of New York, and 
 called for signal vengeance to prevent a repetition. Washington 
 knew by experience that Indian warfare, to be effective, should 
 never be merely defensive, but must be carried into the enemy's 
 country. The Six Nations, the most civilized of the savage tribes, 
 had proved themselves the most formidable. The first act was an 
 expedition from Fort Schuyler by Col. Van Schaick, Lieut. -Col. 
 Willclt, and Major Cochran, with about six hundred men, who, on 
 the 19th of April, surprised the towns of the Onondagas; destroyed 
 the whole settlement, and returned to the fort without the loss of a 
 single man. The great expedition of the campaign, however, was 
 in revenge of the massacre of Wyoming. Early in the summer, 
 three thousand men assembled in that lately desolated region, and 
 conducted by Gen. Sullivan, moved up the west branch of the 
 Susquehanna into the Seneca country. While on the way, they 
 were joined by a part of the western army, under Gen. James 
 Clinton, who had come from the valley of the Mohawk by Otsego 
 lake and the east branch of the Susquehanna. The united forces 
 amounted to about five thousand men, of which Sullivan had the 
 general command. The Indians, and their allies the torics, were 
 much inferior in force, being about fifteen hundred Indians and 
 two hundred white men, commanded by the two Butlers, Johnson, 
 and Brant. A battle took place at Newtown on the 29th of 
 August, in which they were easily defeated. Sulhvan then pushed 
 forward into the heart of the Indian country, penetrating as far as 
 the Genesee River, laying everything waste, setting fire to deserted 
 dwellings, destroying cornfields, orchards, gardens, everything 
 that could give sustenance to man, the design being to starve the 
 Indians out of the country. The latter retreated before him with 
 
1 779-1 WYOMING AVENGED. 411 
 
 their families, and at length took refuge under the protection of the 
 British garrison at Niagara. Having completed his errand, Sulli- 
 van returned to Easton in Pennsylvania. The thanks of Congress 
 were voted to him and his army, but he shortly afterwards resigned 
 his commission on account of ill health, and retired from the ser- 
 vice. A similar expedition was undertaken by Col. Broadhead, 
 from Pittsburg up the Alleghany, against the Mingo, Muncey, and 
 Seneca tribes, with similar results. The wisdom of Washington's 
 policy of carrying the war against the Indians into their country, 
 and conducting it in their own way, was apparent from the general 
 intimidation produced among the tribes by these expeditions, and 
 the subsequent infrequency of their murderous incursions; the 
 instigation of which by the British had been the most inhuman 
 feature of this war. 
 
 The situation of Sir Henry Clinton must have been mortifying in 
 the extreme to an officer of lofty ambition and generous aims. 
 His force, between sixteen and seventeen thousand strong, was 
 superior in numbers, discipline, and equipment to that of Washing-p 
 ton ; yet his instructions confined him to a predatory warfare, har- 
 assing, it is true, yet irritating to the country intended to be concil- 
 iated, and brutalizing to his own soldiery. Such an expedition was 
 set on foot against the commerce of the Chesapeake ; by which 
 commerce the armies were supplied and the credit of the govern- 
 ment sustained. On the 9th of May, a squadron under Sir George 
 Collier, entered these waters, took possession of Portsmouth without 
 opposition, sent out armed parties against Norfolk, Suffolk, Gosport, 
 Kemp's Landing, and other neighboring places, where were im- 
 mense quantities of provisions, naval 2nd military stores, and 
 merchandise of all kinds ; with numerous vessels, some on the 
 stocks, others richly laden. Wherever they went, a scene of 
 plunder, conflagration, and destruction ensued. 
 
 Since the loss of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, the main de- 
 fences of the Highlands had been established at the sudden bend 
 of the river where it winds between West Point and Constitution 
 Island. Two opposite forts commanded this bend, and an iron 
 chain which was stretched across it. Washington had projected 
 two works, also just below the Highlands, at Stony Point and 
 Verplanck's Point, to serve as outworks of the mountain passes, 
 and to protect King's Ferry, the most direct and convenient com- 
 munication between the Northern and Middle States. A small but 
 strong fort had been erected on Verplanck's Point, and was gar- 
 risoned by seventy men under Capt. Armstrong. A more impor- 
 tant work was in progress at Stony Point. When completed, these 
 two forts, on opposite promontories, would form as it were the lower 
 gates of the Highlands ; miniature Pillars of Hercules, of which 
 Stony Point was the Gibraltar. To be at hand in case of any real 
 attempt upon the Highlands, Washington drew up with his forces 
 in that direction ; moving by the way of Morristown. Sir Henry 
 Clinton, on the 30th of May, set out on his second grand cruise up 
 the Hudson, with an armament of about seventy sail, great and 
 small, and one hundred and fifty flat boats. Admiral Collier com- 
 
412 LIFE OF U'ASHIXGTOX. 
 
 manded the armament, and there ^vas a land force of about five 
 thousand men under Gen, A'aughan. The fn-st aim of Chnton was 
 to get possession of Stony and Vcrplanck's Points. On the morn- 
 ing of the 31th, the forces Avcre landed in two divisions, the largest 
 under Gen. \'aughan, on the cast side of the river, about seven or 
 eight miles below Vcrplanck's Point; the other, commanded by 
 Sir Henry in person, landed in Haverstraw Bay, about three miles 
 below Stony Point. There were about thirty men in the unfinished 
 fort ; they abandoned it on the approach of the enemy, and 
 retreated into the Highlands, having first set fire to the block- 
 bouse. The British took quiet possessions of the fort in the even- 
 ing; dragged up cannon and mortars in the night, and at daybreak 
 opened a furious fire upon Fort Lafayette. It was cannonaded at 
 the same time by the armed vessels, and a demonstration was 
 made on it by the division under Gen. Vaughan. Thus surrounded, 
 the little garrison of seventy men was forced to surrender, with no 
 other stipulation than safety to their persons and to the property 
 they had in the fort. Major Andrd was aide-de-camp to Sir Henry, 
 and signed the articles of capitulation. Clinton stationed garrisons 
 in both posts, and set to work with great activity to complete the 
 fortification of Stony Point. His troops remained for several days 
 in two divisions on the opposite sides of the river; the fleet general- 
 ly fell down a little below King's Ferry ; some of the square-rigged 
 vessels, however, with others of a smaller size, and flat-bottomed 
 boats, having troops on board, dropped down Haverstraw Bay, 
 and finally disappeared behind the promontories which advance 
 across the upper part of the Tappan Sea. Washington presumed 
 that the main object of Sir Henry was to get possession of West 
 Point, the guardian fortress of the river, and that the capture of 
 Stony and Vcrplanck's Points were preparatory steps. He would 
 fain have dislodged him from these posts, which cut off all com- 
 munication by the way of King's Ferry, but they were too strong, 
 lie had not the force nor military apparatus necessary. Deferring 
 any attempt on them for the present, he took measures for the pro- 
 tection of West Point. Leaving Gen. Putnam and the main body 
 of the aniiy at Smith's Clove, a mountain pass in the rear of Haver- 
 straw, he removed his headquarters to New Windsor, to be near 
 West Point in case of need, and to press the completion of its works. 
 Gen. McDougall was transferred to the command of the Point. 
 Three brigades were stationed at different places on the opposite 
 side of the river, under Gen. Heath, from which fatigue parties 
 crossed daily to work on the fortifications. This strong disposition 
 of the American forces checked Sir Henry's designs against the 
 Highlands. He returned to New York ; where he soon set on foot 
 a desolating expedition along the seaboard of Connecticut. That 
 State, while it furnished the American armies with provisions and 
 recruits, and infested the sea with privateers, had hitherto experi' 
 enced nothing of the horrors of war within its borders. Gen. (late 
 Gov.) Tryon, was the officer selected for this inglorious, but appar- 
 ently congenial service. About the beginning of July he embarked with 
 two thousand six hundred men, in a fleet of transports and tenders, 
 
1779-] STONY POINT SUI^PRISED. 413 
 
 and was convoyed up the Sound by Sir George Collier with two ships 
 of war. On the 5th of July, the troops landed near New Haven, 
 in two divisions, one led by Try on, the other by Brigadier-general 
 Garth. They came upon the neighborhood by surprise ; yet the 
 militia assembled in haste, and made a resolute through ineffectual 
 opposition. The British captured the town, dismantled the fort, 
 and took or destroyed all the vessels in the harbor ; with all the 
 artillery, ammunition, and public stores. Several private houses 
 were plundered. They next proceeded to Fairfield ; where they not 
 merely ravaged and destroyed the public stores and the vessels in 
 the harbor, but laid the town itself in ashes. The sight of homes 
 laid desolate, and dwellings wrapped in flames, produced a more 
 determined opposition to the progress of the destroyers ; whereupon 
 the ruthless ravage of the latter increased as they advanced. At 
 Norwalk, where they landed on the nth of July, they burnt one 
 hundred and thirty dwelling-houses, eighty-seven barns, twenty- 
 two store-houses, seventeen shops, four mills, two places of worship, 
 and five vessels which were in the harbor. These acts of devasta- 
 tion were accompanied by atrocities, inevitable where the brutal 
 passions of the soldiery are aroused. — Stony Point was a rocky pro- 
 montory advancing far into the Hudson, which washed three sides 
 of it. A deep morass, covered at high water, separated it from the 
 mainland, but at low tide might be traversed by a narrow cause- 
 way and bridge. The promontory was crowned by strong works, 
 furnished with heavy ordnance, commanding the morass and 
 causeway. Lower down were two rows of abatis, and the shore 
 at the foot of the hill could be swept by vessels 01 war anchored in 
 the river. The garrison was about six hnndred strong, commanded 
 by Lieut. -Col. Johnson. To attempt the surprisal of this isolated 
 post, thus strongly fortified, was a perilous enterprise. General 
 Wayne, Mad Anthony as he was called from his daring valor, was 
 the officer to whom Washington proposed it, and he engaged in it with 
 avidity. On the 15th of July, about mid-day, he set out with his 
 light-infantry from Sand Beach, fourteen miles distant from Stony 
 Point. The roads were rugged, across mountains, morasses, and 
 narrow defiles, in the skirts of the Dunderberg, where frequently 
 it was necessary to proceed in single file. About eight in the even- 
 ing, they arrived within a mile and a half of the forts, without be- 
 ing discovered. Bringing the men to a halt, Wayne and his prin- 
 cipal officers went nearer, and carefully reconnoitred the works 
 and their environs, so as to proceed understandingly and without 
 confusion. About half-past eleven, the whole moved forward, 
 guided by a negro of the neighborhood who had frequently carried 
 in fruit to the garrison, and served the Americans as a spy. He 
 led the way, accompanied by two stout men disguised as farmers. 
 The countersign was given to the first sentinel , posted on high ground 
 west of the morass. While the negro talked with him, the men 
 seized &nd gagged him. The sentinel posted at the head of the 
 causeway was served in the same manner ; so that hitherto no 
 alarm was given. The causeway, however, was overflowed, and it 
 was some time after twelve o'clock before the troops could cross ; 
 
414 I'IFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 leaving three hundred men under Gen. Muhlenberg, on the western 
 side of the morass, as a reserve. At the foot of the promontory, 
 the troops were divided into two columns, for simultaneous attacks 
 on the opposite sides of the works. One hundred and fifty volun- 
 teers, led by Lieut. -Col. Fleury, seconded by Major Posey, formed 
 the vanguard of the right column ; one hundred volunteers under 
 Major Stewart, the vanguard of the left. In advance of each was 
 a forlorn hope of twenty men, one led by Lieut. Gibbon, the other 
 by Lieut. Knox; it was their desperate duty to remove the abatis. 
 So well had the whole affair been conducted, that the Ainericans 
 were close upon the outworks before they were discovered. There 
 uas then severe skirmishing at the pickets. The Americans used 
 the bayonet ; the others discharged their muskets. The reports 
 roused the garrison. Stony Point was instantly in an uproar. The 
 drums beat to arms ; everyone hurried to his alarm post ; the works 
 were hastily manned, and a tremendous fire of grape shot and 
 musketry opened upon the assailants. The two columns forced 
 their way with the bayonet, at opposite points, surmounting every 
 obstacle. Col. Fleury was the first to enter the fort and strike the 
 British flag. Major Posey sprang to the ramparts and shouted, 
 " The fort is our own." Wayne, who led the right column, received 
 at the inner abatis a contusion on the head from amusketball, and 
 would have fallen to the ground, but his two aides-de-camp sup- 
 ported him. Thinking it was a death wound, " Carry me into the 
 fort," said he, "and let me die at the head of my column." He 
 was borne in between his aides, and soon recovered his self-pos- 
 session. The two columns arrived nearly at the same time, and 
 met in the center of the works. The garrison surrendered at dis- 
 cretion. At daybreak, the guns of the fort were turned on Fort 
 Lafayette and the shipping. The latter cut their cables and drop- 
 ped down the river. Through a series of blunders, the detachment 
 from West Point, which was to have cooperated, did not arrive in 
 time, and came unprovided with suitable ammunition for their 
 battering artillery. This part of the enterprise, therefore, failed ; 
 Fort Lafayette held out. The storming of Stony Point stands out 
 in high relief, as one of the most brilliant achievements of the war. 
 The Americans had effected it without firing a musket. On their 
 part, it was the silent deadly work of the bayonet ; the fierce resistance 
 they met at the outset may be judged by the havoc made in their 
 forlorn hope ; out of twenty-two men, seventeen were either killed or 
 wounded. The whole loss of the Americans was fifteen killed and 
 eighty-three wounded. Of the garrison, sixty-three were slain, in- 
 including two officers ; five hundred and fifty-three were taken 
 prisoners, among whom were a lieutenant-colonel, four captains, 
 and twenty-three subaltern officers. Wayne, in his dispatches, 
 WTites : " The humanity of our brave soldiery, who scorned to take 
 the lives of a vanquished foe when calling for mercy, reflects the 
 highest honor on them, and accounts for the few of the emeny 
 killed on the occasion," Gen. Charles Lee, when he heard of 
 Wayne's achievement, wrote to him as follows: •' What I am go- 
 JDg to say, you will not, I hope, consider as paying my court in 
 
1779'] tVASHiNG TON A T WEST POINT. 4 1 5 
 
 this hour of your glory ; it is dictated by the genuine feelings of my 
 heart. I do most sincerely declare, that your assault of Stony 
 Point is not only the most brilliant, in my opinion, throughout the 
 whole course of the war on either side, but that it is the most 
 brilHant I am acquainted with in history ; the assault of Schweid- 
 nitz by Marshal Laudon, I think inferior to it." This is the more 
 magnanimous on the part of Lee, as Wayne had been the chief 
 witness against him in the court-martial after the affair of Mon- 
 mouth. While Stony Point, therefore, stands a lasting monument 
 of the daring courage of " Mad Anthony," let it call up the remem- 
 brance of this freak of generosity on the part of the eccentric Lee. 
 Washington having well examined the post in company with an 
 engineer and several general officers, found that at least fifteen 
 hundred men would be required to maintain it — a number not to be 
 spared from the army at present. The works, too, were only cal- 
 culated for defence on the land side, and were open towards the 
 river, where the enemy depended upon protection from their ships. 
 It would be necessary to construct them anew, with great labor. 
 The army, also, would have to be in the vicinity, too distant from 
 West Point to aid in completing or defending its fortifications, and 
 exposed to the risk of a general action on unfavorable terms. 
 Accordingly, Washington evacuated the post on the i8th, remov- 
 ing the cannon and stores, and destroying the works ; after which 
 he drew his forces together in the Highlands, and established his 
 quarters at West Point. 
 
 A British detatchment from Halifax of seven or eight hundred 
 men, had founded in June a military post on the eastern side of the 
 Bay of Penobscot, nine miles below the river of that name, and 
 were erecting a fort there, intended to protect Nova Scotia, control 
 the frontiers of Massachusetts, and command the vast wooded 
 regions of Maine whence inexhaustible supplies of timber might be 
 procured for the royal shipyards at Halifax and elsewhere. The 
 people of Boston, roused by this movement, which invaded their 
 territory, and touched their pride and interests, undertook, on their 
 own responsibility, a naval and military expedition intended to 
 drive off the invaders. A squadron of armed ships and brigan- 
 tines under Commodore Saltonstall, at length put to sea, convoy- 
 ing transports, on board of which were near four thousand land 
 troops under Gen. Level. Arriving in the Penobscot on the 25th 
 of May, they found Col. Maclean posted on a peninsula, steep 
 and precipitous toward the bay, and deeply trenched on the land 
 side, with three ships of war anchored before it. Level effected a 
 landing on the peninsula before daybreak on the 28th. The fort 
 was half finished ; the guns were not mounted ; the three armed 
 vessels could not have offered a formidable resistance; but Level 
 threw up ^works at seven hundred and fifty yards distance, and 
 opened a cannonade, which was continued from day to day, for a 
 fortnight. The enemy availed themselves of the delay to 
 strengthen their works, in which they were aided by men from the 
 ships. Level sent to Boston for a reinforcement of Continental 
 troops. A golden opportunity was lost by this excess of caution. 
 
41 6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 It gave time for Admiral Collier at New York to hear of this enter- 
 prise, and take measures for its defeat. On the 13th of August, 
 Lovel was astounded by intelligence that the admiral was arrived 
 before the bay with a superior armament. Thus fairly entrapped, 
 he endeavored to extricate his force with as little loss as possible. 
 Before news of Collier's arrival could reach the fort, he reem- 
 barked his troops. His armed vessels were captured, others were 
 set on fire or blown up, and abandoned by their crews. The trans- 
 ports being eagerly pursued and in great danger of being taken, 
 disgorged the troops and seamen on the wild shores of the river: 
 whence they had to make the best of their way to Boston, strug- 
 gling for upwards of a hundred miles through a pathless wilder- 
 ness, before they reached the settled parts of the country. 
 
 Washington was cheered by the success of an expedition set on 
 foot under his own eye, by his young friend, Major Henry Lee of 
 the Virgina dragoons. This active and daring officer had fre- 
 quently been employed by him in scouring the country on the 
 west side of the Hudson to collect information; keep an eye upon 
 the enemy's posts; cut off their supplies, and check their foraging 
 parties. The coup de main at Stony Point had piqued his emula- 
 tion. Paulus Hook is a long low point of the Jersey shore, 
 stretching into the Hudson, and connected to the main land by a 
 sandy isthmus. A fort had been erected on it by the British, and 
 garrisoned with four or five hundred men, under the command of 
 Major Sutherland. It was a strong position. A creek fordable 
 only in two places rendered the Hook difficult of access. Within 
 this, a deep trench had been cut acrcss the isthmus, traversed by a 
 drawbridge with a barred gate; and still within this was a double 
 row of abatis, extending into the water. The whole position, with 
 the country immediately adjacent, was separated from the rest of 
 Jersey by the Hackensack River, running parallel to the Hudson, 
 at the distance of a very few miles, and only traversable in boats, 
 excepting at the New Bridge, about fourteen miles from Paulus 
 Hook. On the i8th of August, Lee set out on an expedition to 
 surprise the fort, at the head of three hundred men of Lord Stirl- 
 ing's division, and a troop of dismounted dragoons under Captain 
 McLane. The road they took lay along that belt of rocky and 
 wooded heights which borders the Hudson, and forms a rugged 
 neck between it and the Hackensack. Lord Stirling followed with 
 five hundred men, and encamped at the New Bridge on that river, 
 to be at hand to render aid if required. It was between two and 
 three in the morning when Lee and his men arrived at the creek 
 which rendered Paulus Hook difficult of access. They passed the 
 creek and ditch, entered the works unmolested, and had made 
 themselves masters of the post before the negligent garrison were 
 well roused from sleep. Alarm guns from the ships in the river 
 and the forts at New York threatened speedy reinforcements to 
 the enemy. Having made one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners, 
 among whom were three officers, Lee commenced his retreat. He 
 had achieved his object: a coup de main of signal audacity. Few 
 of the enemy were slain, for there was but little fighting, and no 
 
1779.] HEADQUARTERS, ETIQUETTE AND FARE, 417 
 
 massacre. His own loss was two men killed and three wounded. 
 
 Washington was now at West Point, dilgently providing for the 
 defence of the Highlands against any further attempts of the 
 enemy. Of his singularly isolated situation with respect to public 
 affairs, we have evidence in the following passage of a letter to 
 Edmond Randolph, who had recently taken his seat in Congress. 
 •' I shall be happy in such communications as your leisure and 
 other considerations will permit you to transmit to me, for I arn as 
 totally unacquainted with the political state of things, and what is 
 going forward in the great national council as if I was an alien; 
 when a competent knowledge of the temper and designs of our 
 allies, from time to time, and the frequent changes and complex- 
 ion of affairs in Europe might, as they ought to do, have a con- 
 siderable influence on the operations of our army, and would in 
 many cases determine the propriety of measures, which under a 
 cloud of darkness can only be groped at." Of the style of liv- 
 ing at headquarters, we have a picture in the following letter to 
 Doctor John Cochran, the surgeon-general and physician of the 
 army. It is almost the only instance of sportive writing in all 
 Washington's correspondence: "Dear Doctor: — I have asked 
 Mrs. Cochran and Mrs. Livingston to dine with me to-morrow; but 
 am I not in honor bound to apprise them of their fare ? As I hate 
 deception, even where the imagination only is concerned, I will. It is 
 needless to premise that my table is large enough to hold the 
 ladies. Of this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it 
 is usually covered is more essential. Since our arrival at this 
 happy spot, we have had a ham, sometimes a shoulder of bacon, 
 to grace the head of the table: a piece ot roast beef adorns the 
 foot; and a dish of beans or greens, almost imperceptible, deco- 
 rates the center. W^hen the cook has a mind to cut a figure, 
 which I presume will be the case to-morrow, we have two beef- 
 steak pies, or dishes of crabs, in addition, one on each side of the 
 centre dish, dividing the space and reducing the distance between 
 dish and dish to about six feet, which, without them, would be 
 about twelve feet apart. Of late he has had the surprising sagac- 
 ity to discover that apples will make pies, and it is a question, if in 
 the violence of his efforts, we do not get one of apples instead of 
 having both of ^beefsteaks. If the ladies can put up with such 
 entertainment, and will submit to partake of it on plates once tin 
 but now iron (not become so by the labor of scouring), I shall be 
 happy to see them." We may add, that, however poor the fare 
 and table equipage at headquarters, everything was conducted 
 with strict etiquette and decorum, and we make no doubt the ladies 
 in question were handed in with as much courtesy to the bacon 
 and greens and tin dishes, as though they were to be regaled with 
 the daintiest viands, served up on enamelled plate and porcelain. 
 
 Washington, by his diligence in fortifying West Point, rendered 
 that fastness of the Highlands apparently impregnable. Sir 
 Henry turned his thoughts, therefore, towards the South, hoping, 
 by a successful expedition in that direction, to counterbalance ill 
 success in other quarters. At this juncture news was received of 
 14 
 
41 8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 the arrival of the Count D'Estaing, with a formidable fleet on the 
 coast of Georgia, having made a successful cruise in the West 
 Indies, in the course of which he had taken St. Vincent's and 
 Granada. Clinton, apprehensive of a combined attack on New 
 York, caused Rhode Island to be evacuated; the troops and 
 stores to be brought away; the garrisons brought off from Stony 
 and Verplanck's Points, and all his forces to be concentrated at 
 New York, which he endeavored to put in the strongest posture of 
 defence. Spain had joined France in hostilities against England, 
 increasing the solicitude and perplexities of the enemy, and giving 
 fresh contidence to the Americans. 
 
 The Chevalier de la Luzerne, minister from France, with Mons. 
 Barbe Marbois, his secretary of legation, having recently landed 
 at Boston, paid Washington a visit at his mountain fortress, bring- 
 ing letters of introduction from Lafayette. Washington welcomed 
 the chevalier to the mountains with the thunder of artillery, and 
 received him at his fortress with military ceremonial; but very 
 probably surprised him with the stern simplicity of his table, 
 while he charmed him with the dignity and grace with which he 
 presided at it. 
 
 Admiral D'Estaing, on arriving on the coast of Georgia, had 
 been persuaded to cooperate with the Southern army, under Gen. 
 Lincoln, in an attempt to recover Savannah, which had fallen into 
 the hands of the British during the preceding year. For three 
 weeks a siege was carried on with great vigor by regular approaches 
 on land, and cannonade and bombardment from the shipping. 
 October 9th, Lincoln and D'Estaing, at the head of their choicest 
 troops, advanced before daybreak to storm the works. The assault 
 was gallant but unsuccessful; both Americans and French had 
 planted their standards on the redoubts, but were finally repulsed; 
 and both armies retired from before the place, the French having 
 lost in killed and wounded upwards of six hundred men, the Amer- 
 icans about four hundred. D'Estaing himself was among the 
 wounded, and the gallant Count Pulaski among the slain. The 
 loss of the enemy was trifling, being protected by their works. The 
 Americans recrossed the Savannah River into South Carolina; and 
 the French reembarked. The tidings of this reverse, which 
 reached Washington late in November, put an end to all prospect 
 of cooperation from the French fleet; and arrangements were 
 made for the winter. Thearmy was thrown into two divisions; one 
 was to be stationed under Gen. Heath in the Highlands, for the 
 protection of West Point and the neighboring post ; the other and 
 principal division was to be hutted near Ivlorristown, where Wash- 
 ington was to have his headquarters. The cavalry were to be sent 
 to Connecticut. 
 
 Gen. Clinton was regulating his movements by those the French 
 fleet might make after the repulse at Savannah. Intelligence at 
 length arrived that it had been dispersed by a violent storm. 
 Count D'Estaing, with a part, had shaped his course for France; 
 the rest had proceeded to the West Indies. Sir Henry now lost no 
 time in carrying his plans into operation. Leaving the garrison of" 
 
i779-'8o.] DEPRECIA TION OF THE CURRENCY. 419 
 
 New York under the command of Lieut.-Gen. Knyphausen, he 
 embarked several thousand men, on board of transports, to be 
 convoyed by five ships-of-the-line and several frigates under Ad- 
 miral Arbuthnot, and set sail on the 26th of December accompa- 
 nied by Lord Cornwallis, on an expedition intended for the capture 
 of Charleston and the reduction of South Carolina. 
 
 The dreary encampment at Valley Forge has become proverbial 
 for its hardships; yet they were scarcely more severe than those 
 suffered by Washington's army during the present winter, 
 while hutted among the heights of Tvlorristown. The winter set in 
 early, and was uncommonly rigorous. For weeks at a time the 
 army was on half allowance; sometimes without meat, sometimes 
 without bread, sometimes without both. There was a scarcity, too, 
 of clothing and blankets, so that the poor soldiers were starving 
 with cold as well as hunger. The year 1 780 opened upon a fam- 
 ishing camp. "For a fortnight past," writes Washington, on the 
 8th of January, '• the troops, both officers and men, have been 
 almost perishing with want. Yet they have borne their sufferings 
 with a patience that merits the approbation, and ought to excite 
 the sympathies, of tneir countrymen." The severest trials of the 
 Revolution, in fact, were not in the field, where there were shouts 
 to excite and laurels to be won; but in the squalid wretchedness of 
 ill-provided camps, where there was nothing to cheer and every- 
 thing to be endured. To suffer was the lot of the revolutionary 
 soldier. A rigorous winter had much to do with the actual dis- 
 tresses of the army, but the root of the evil lay in the derangement 
 of the currency. Congress had commenced the war without ade- 
 quate funds, and without the power of imposing direct taxes. To 
 meet pressing emergencies, it had emitted paper money, which, for 
 a time, passed currently at par; but sank in value as further emis- 
 sions succeeded, and that already in circulation remained unre- 
 deemed. The several States added to the evil by emitting paper 
 in their separate capacities: thus the country gradually became 
 flooded with a "continental currency," as it was called; which 
 declined to such a degree, that forty dollars in paper were equiva- 
 lent to only one in specie. Congress attempted to put a stop to 
 this depreciation, by making paper money a legal tender, at its 
 nominal value, in the discharge of debts, however contracted. 
 This opened the door to knavery, and added a nev/ feature to the 
 evil. In the present emergency Washington was reluctantly com- 
 pelled, by the distresses of the army, to call upon the counties of 
 the State for supplies of grain and cattle, proportioned to their 
 respective abilities. These supplies were to be brought into the 
 camp within a certain time; the grain to be measured and the cat- 
 tle estimated by any two of the magistrates of the county in con- 
 junction with the commissary, and certificates to be given by the 
 latter, specifying the quantity of each and the terms of payment. 
 Wherever a compliance with this call was refused, the articles 
 required were to be impressed: it was a painful alternative, yet 
 nothing else could save the army from dissolution or starving. 
 Washington charged his officers to act with as much tenderness as 
 
420 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 possible » graduating the exaction according to the stock of each 
 individual, so that no family should be deprived of what was 
 necessary to its subsistence. To the honor of the magistrates and 
 the people of Jersey, his requisitions were punctually complied 
 with, and in many counties exceeded. Too much praise, indeed, 
 cannot be given to the people of this State for the patience with 
 which most of them bore these exactions, and the patriotism with 
 which many of them administered to the wants of their country- 
 men in arms. Exhausted as the State was by repeated drainings, 
 yet, at one time, when deep snows cut off all distant supplies, 
 Washington's army was wholly subsisted by it. As the winter 
 advanced, the cold increased in severity. It was the most intense 
 ever remembered in the country. The great bay of New York 
 was frozen over. Provisions grew scanty; and there was such lack 
 of firewood, that old transports were broken up, and uninhabited 
 wooden houses pulled down for fuel. The safety of the city was 
 endangered. The ships of war immovably icebound in its harbor, 
 no longer gave it protection. The insular security of the place 
 was at an end. An army with its heaviest artillery and baggage 
 might cross the Hudson on the ice. 
 
 Washington was aware of the opportunity which offered itself 
 for a signal coup de main, but was not in a condition to 
 profit by it. Still, in the frozen condition cf the bay and 
 rivers, some minor blow might be attempted, sufficient to 
 rouse and cheer the spirits of the people. With this view, 
 having ascertained that the ice formed a bridge across the strait 
 between the Jersey shore and Statea Island, Lord Stirling with 
 twenty-five hundred men, crossed on the night of the 14th of Jan- 
 uary, from De Hart*s Point to the island. His approach was dis- 
 covered; the troops took refuge in the works, which were too 
 Strongly situated to be attacked. Plis own situation becoming 
 hazardous. Lord Stirling recrossed to the Jersey Shore with a num- 
 ber of prisoners whom he had captured. By way of retort, Kny- 
 phausen, on the 25th of January, sent out two detachments to 
 harass the American outposts. One crossed to Paulus Hook, and 
 being joined by part of the garrison of that post, pushed on to 
 Newark, surprised and captured a company stationed there, set 
 f;rc to the academy, and returned without loss. The other detach- 
 ment, under Lieut.-Col. Boskirk, crossed from Staten Island to 
 Trembly's Point, surprised the picket-guard at Elizabethtown, and 
 captured two majors, tv.o captains, and forty-two privates. The 
 disgraceful part of the expedition was the burning of the town 
 liouse, a church, and a private residence, and the plundering of 
 the inhabitants. The church destroyed was a Presbyterian place 
 cf worship, and its pastor, the Rev. James Caldwell, had rendered 
 himself an especial object of hostility to both Briton and tory. He 
 was a zealous patriot; had served as chaplain to those portions of 
 the American army that successively occupied the Jerseys; and 
 now officiated in that capacity in Col. Elias Dayton's regiment. 
 His church had at times served as hospital to the American sol- 
 dier; or shelter to the hastily assembled militia. Its bell was the 
 
\7^o.]I^AVAG£:S OF THE ^* NEUTRAL GROUNDr 421 
 
 tocsin of alarm; from its pulpit he had many a time stirred up the 
 patriotism of his countrymen by his ardent, eloquent, and pathetic 
 appeals, laying beside him his pistols before he commenced. His 
 popularity in the army, and among the Jersey people, was 
 unbounded. 
 
 In the lower part of Westchester County, in a hilly region lying 
 between the British and American lines, about twenty miles from 
 the British outposts, and not far from White Plains, the Americans 
 had estabhshed a post of three hundred men at a stone building 
 commonly known as Young's house, from the name of its owner. 
 It commanded a road which passed from north to south down 
 along the narrow but fertile valley of the Sawmill River, now 
 known by its original Indian name of the Neperan. On this road 
 the garrison of Young's house kept a vigilant eye, to intercept the 
 convoys of cattle and provisions which had been collected or 
 plundered by the enemy, and which passed down this valley 
 towards New York. This post had long been an annoyance to the 
 enemy, but its distance from the British lines had hitherto saved it 
 from attack. On the evening of the 2d of February, an expedi- 
 tion set out from King's Bridge, led by Lieut. -Col. Norton. It was 
 a weary tramp; the snow in many places was more than two feet 
 deep, and they had to take by-ways and cross-roads to avoid the 
 American patrols. The sun rose while they were yet seven miles 
 from Young's house. Before they could reach the house the coun- 
 try had taken the alarm, and the Westchester yeomanry had armed 
 themselves, and were hastening to aid the garrison. The British 
 light infantry and grenadiers invested the mansion; the cavalry 
 posted themselves on a neighboring eminence, to prevent retreat or 
 reinforcement, and the house was assailed, It made a brave resis- 
 tance, and was aided by some of the yeomanry stationed in an 
 adjacent orchard. The garrison, however, was overpowered; 
 numbers were killed, and ninety taken prisoners. The house was 
 sacked and set in flames. We give this affair as a specimen of the 
 petite guerre carried on in the southern part of Westchester 
 County; the neutral ground, as it was called, but subjected 
 from its vicinity to the city, to be foraged by the royal forces, and 
 plundered and insulted by refugees and tories. No part of the 
 Union was more harried and trampled down by friend and foe, 
 during the Revolution, than this debatable region and the Jerseys. 
 
 The most irksome duty that Washington had to perform during 
 the winter's encampment at Morristown, regarded Gen. Arnold 
 and his military government of Philadelphia in 1778. At the time 
 of entering upon this command, Arnold's accounts with government 
 were yet unsettled; the committee appointed by Congress, at his own 
 request, to examine them, having considered some of his charges 
 dubious, and others exorbitant. Arnold occupied one of the 
 finest houses in the city ; set up a splendid establishment ; had his 
 carriage and four horses and a train of domestics ; gave expensive 
 entertainments, and indulged in a luxury and parade, which were 
 condemned as little befitting a republican general; especially one 
 whose accounts with government were yet unsettled, and who had 
 
422 LTFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 imputations of mercenary rapacity still hanging over him. Osten- 
 tatious prodigality, in fact, was his besetting sin. To cope with 
 his overwhelming expenses, he engaged in various speculations, 
 rnore befitting the trafficking habits of his early life than his pres- 
 ent elevated position. Nay, he availed himself of that position to 
 aid his speculations, and sometimes made temporary use of public 
 moneys passing through his hands. In the exercise of his military 
 functions, he had become involved in disputes with the president 
 (Wharton) and executive council of Pennsylvania, and by his 
 conduct, which was deemed arbitrary and arrogant, had drawn 
 upon himself the hostility of that body, which became stern and 
 tinsparing censors of his conduct. He had not been many weeks 
 in Philadelphia before he became attached to one of its reigning 
 belles, Miss Margaret Shippen, daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen, 
 in after years chief justice of Pennsylvania. Her family were not 
 considered well aff'ected to the American cause; the young lady 
 lierself, during the occupation of the city by the enemy, had been 
 a "toast" among the British officers. Party feeling ran high on 
 local subjects connected with the change of the State government. 
 Arnold's connections with the Shippen family increased his disfa- 
 vor with the president and executive council, who were whigs to a 
 Onan; and it was sneeringly observed, that "he had courted the 
 loyalists from the start." Gen. Joseph Reed, at that time one of 
 the executive committee, observes in a letter to Gen. Greene, 
 "Will you not think it extraordinary that Gen. Arnold made a 
 public entertainment the night before last, of which, not only 
 common tory ladies, but the wives and daughters of persons pro- 
 ecribed by the State, and now with the enemy at New York, 
 formed a very considerable number? The fact is literally true." 
 As he was an officer of the United States, the complaints and 
 grievances of Pennsylvania were set forth by the executive coun- 
 cil in eight charges, and forwarded to Congress, accompanied by 
 documents, and a letter from President Reed. Arnold's first 
 solicitude was about the effect they might have upon Miss Shippen, 
 to whom he was now engaged. On Feb. 9th he issued an address 
 to the public, recalling his faithful services of nearly four years, 
 and inveighing against the proceedings of the president and coun- 
 cil; who, not content with injuring him in a cruel and unprece- 
 dented manner with Congress, had ordered copies of their charges 
 to be printed and dispersed throughout the several States, for the 
 purpose of prejudicing the public mind against him, while the 
 matter was yet in suspense. He had requested Congress to direct 
 a court-martial to inquire into his conduct, and trusted his country- 
 men would suspend their judgment in the matter, until he should 
 have an opportunity of being heard. Public opinion was divided. 
 Plis brilliant services spoke eloquently in his favor. On the i6th 
 of Feb. his appeal to Congress was referred to the committee 
 \vhich had under consideration the letter of President Reed and 
 its accompanying documents. About the middle of March, the 
 committee brought i:i a report exculpating him from all criminality 
 in the matters charged against hiui. As soon as the report was 
 
I /So.] ARNOLD REPRIMANDED. 423 
 
 brought in he considered his name vindicated and resigned. IJut 
 Congress referred the subject anew to a joint committee of their 
 body and the assembly and council of Pennsylvania. Arnold 
 was, at this time, on the eve of marriage with Miss Shippen, and 
 it must have been peculiarly galling to his pride to be kept under 
 the odium of imputed delinquencies. The report of the joint com- 
 mittee brought up animated discussions in Congress. It was con- 
 tended that certain charges were only cognizable by a court-mar- 
 tial, and, after a warm debate, it was resolved (April 3d), by a 
 large majority, that the commander-in-chief should appoint such a 
 court for the consideration of them. Arnold inveighed bitterly 
 against the injustice of subjecting him to a tiial before a mili- 
 tary tribunal for alleged offences of which he had been acquitted 
 by the committee of Congress. It was doubtless soothing to his 
 irritated pride, that the woman on whom he had placed his affec* 
 tions remained true to him; for his marriage with Miss Shippen 
 took place just five days after the mortifying vote of Congress. 
 Washington appointed the ist of May for the trial, but it was 
 repeatedly postponed. A.rnold continued to reside at Philadelphia, 
 holding his commission in the army, but filling no public office; getting 
 deeper and deeper in debt, and becoming more and more unpopular. 
 His situation, he said, was cruel. His character would continue 
 to suffer until he should be acquitted by a court-martial, and he 
 would be effectually prevented from joining the army, which he 
 wished to do as soon as his wounds would permit, that he might 
 render the country every service in his power at this critical time. 
 At length when the campaign was over, and the army had gone 
 into winter-quarters, the long-delayed court-martial was assembled 
 at Morristown. Of the eight charges originally advanced against 
 Arnold by the Pennsylvania council, four only came under cogni- 
 zance of the court. Of two of these he was entirely acquitted. 
 The remaining two were. First. That while in the camp at Val- 
 ley F'orge, he, without the knowledge of the commander-in-chief, 
 or the sanction of the State government, had granted a written 
 permission for a vessel belonging to disaffected persons, to proceed 
 from the fort of Philadelphia, then in possession of the enemy, to 
 any port of the United States. Second. That, availing himself 
 of his official authority, he had appropriated the public wagons of 
 Pennsylvania, when called forth on a special emergency, to the 
 transportation of private property, and that of persons who volun- 
 tarily remained with the enemy, and were deemed disaffected to 
 the interests and independence of America. In regard to both 
 charges, nothing fraudulent on the part of Arnold was proved, 
 but the transactions involved in the first were pronounced irregu- 
 lar, and contrary to one of the articles of war; and in the second, 
 imprudent and reprehensible, considering the high station occu- 
 pied by the general at the time, and the court sentenced him to be 
 reprimanded by the commander-in-chief. The sentence was con- 
 firmed by Congress on the 12th of February (1780). The repri- 
 mand was administered by Washington with consummate deli- 
 cacy. The following were his words, as repeated by M. de Mar* 
 
424 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 bois, the French secretary of legation : "Our profession is the 
 chastest of all : even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of 
 our finest achievements. The least inadvertance may rob us of 
 the public favor so hard to be acquired. I reprehend you for 
 having forgotten, that, in proportion as you had rendered yourself 
 formidable to our enemies, you should have been guarded and 
 temperate in your deportment towards your fellow-citizens. 
 Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have placed you on the 
 list of our most valued commanders. I will myself furnish you, 
 as far as it may be in my power, with opportunities of regaining 
 the esteem of your country." 
 
 The population of South Carolina was made up of emigrants, 
 or the descendents of emigrants, from various lands and of various 
 nations : Huguenots, who had emigrated from France after the 
 revocation of the edict of Nantz; Germans, from the Palatinate; 
 Irish Protestants, who had received grants of land from the 
 crown; Scotch Highlanders, transported hither after the disastrous 
 battle of Culloden; Dutch colonists, who had left New York, after 
 its submission to England, and been settled here on bounty lands. 
 Some of these foreign elements might be hostile to British domina- 
 tion, but others would be favorable. There was a large class, too, 
 that had been born or had passed much of their lives in England, 
 \v\\o retained for it a filial affection, spoke of it as home, and 
 sent their children to be educated there. The number of slaves 
 within the province and of savages on its western frontier, together 
 with its wide extent of unprotected sea-coast, were encourage- 
 ments to an invasion by sea and land. Gen. Lincoln was in com- 
 mand at Charleston, but uncertain as yet of the designs of the 
 enemy, and at a loss what course to pursue. The voyage of Sir 
 Henry Chnton (from New York to Charleston) proved long and 
 tempestuous. The ships were dispersed. Several fell into the 
 hands of the Americans. One ordnance vessel foundered. Most 
 of the artillery horses, and all those of the cavalry perished. The 
 scattered ships rejoined each other about the end of January, at 
 Tybee Bay on Savannah River. There was a corps of two hun- 
 dred and fifty dragoons, on which Clinton depended gready in the 
 kind of guerilla warfare he was likely to pursue, in a country of 
 forest and morasses. Lieut. -Col. Banastre Tarleton, who com- 
 manded them, was one of those dogs of war, which Sir Henry 
 was prepared to let slip on emergencies, to scour and maraud the 
 country. This "bold dragoon," so noted in Southern warfare, 
 was about twenty-six years of age, of a swarthy complexion, with 
 small, black, piercing eyes. He is described as being rather 
 below the middle size, square-built and strong, "with large mus- 
 cular legs." He repaired with his dragoons, in some of the quar- 
 termaster's boats, to Port Royal Island, on the seaboard of South 
 Carohna, " to collect at that place, from friends or enemies, by 
 money or by force, all the horses belonging to the islands in the 
 neighborhood." He succeeded in procuring horses, though of an 
 inferior quality to those he had lost. In the meantime, the trans- 
 ports having on board a great part of the army, sailed under con- 
 
i78o.] CHARLESTON A TTACKED. 425 
 
 voy on the loth of Feb. from Savannah to North Edisto Sound, 
 where the troops disembarked on the I Ith, on St. Johns Island, about 
 thirty miles below Charleston. Thence, Chnton set out for the banks 
 of Ashley River, opposite to the city, while a part of the fleet pro- 
 ceeded round by sea, for the purpose of blockading the harbor. 
 Much time was consumed in fortifying intermediate ports, to keep up 
 a secure communication with the fleet. He ordered from Savannah 
 all the troops that could be spared, and wrote to Knyphausen, at 
 New York, for reinforcements from that place. Gen. Lincoln took 
 advantage of this slowness on the part of his assailant, to extend 
 and strengthen the works. Charleston stands at the end of an 
 isthmus formed by the Ashley and Cooper rivers. Beyond the 
 main works on the land side he cut a canal, from one to the other 
 of the swamps which border these rivers. In advance of the 
 canal were two rows of abatis and a double picketed ditch. 
 Within the canal, and between it and the main works, were strong 
 redoubts and batteries, to open a flanking fire on any approaching 
 column, while an inclosed horn-work of masonry formed a kind 
 of citadel. A squadron, commanded by Commodore Whipple, 
 and composed of nine vessels of war of various sizes, the largest 
 mounting forty-four guns, was to cooperate with Forts Moultrie 
 and Johnston, and the various batteries, in the defence of the har- 
 bor. They were to lie before the bar so as t© command the 
 entrance of it. Great reliance also was placed on the bar itself, 
 which it was thought no ship-of-the-line could pass. Gen. Lincoln 
 yielded to the entreaties of the inhabitants, and shut himself up 
 with them in the place for its defense, leaving merely his cavalry 
 and two hundred light troops outside, who were to hover about the 
 enemy and prevent small parties from marauding. It was not 
 until the 12th of March that Sir Henry effected his tardy approach, 
 and took up a position on Charleston Neck, a few miles above the 
 town. Admiral Arbuthnot soon showed an intention of introduc- 
 ing his ships into the harbor; barricading their waists, anchoring 
 them in a situation where they might take advantage of the first 
 favorable spring-tide, and fixing buoys on the bar for their guid- 
 ance. Commodore Whipple could not anchor nearer than within 
 three miles of the bar, so that it would be impossible for him to 
 defend the passage of it He quitted his station Avithin it, there- 
 fore, after having destroyed a part of the enemy's buoys, and took 
 a position where his ships might be abreast, and form a cross-fire 
 with the batteries of Fort Moultrie, where Col. Pinckney com- 
 manded. 
 
 Washington's utmost vigilance was required to keep watch upon 
 New York and maintain the security of the Hudson, the vital part 
 of the confederacy. The weak state of the American means of 
 warfare in both quarters, presented a choice of difficulties. The 
 South needed support. Could the North give it without exposing 
 itself to ruin, since the enemy, by means of their ships, could 
 suddenly unite their forces, and fall upon any point that they might 
 consider weak? Such were the perplexities to which he was con- 
 tinually subjected, in having, with scanty means, to provide for 
 
4-6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the security of a vast extent of country, and with land forces 
 merely, to contend with an amphibious enemy. The Baron De 
 Kalb, now at the head ot the Maryland division, was instructed 
 to conduct this detachment with all haste to the aid of General 
 Lincoln. He might not anive in time to prevent the fall of 
 Charleston, but he might assist to arrest the progress of tlie enemy 
 and save the Carohnas. 
 
 The troops were paid in paper money at its nominal value. A 
 memorial of the officers of the Jersey line to the legislature of 
 their State, represented the depreciation to be so great, that four 
 months' pay of a private soldier would not procure for his family 
 a single bushel of wheat; the pay of a colonel would not purchase 
 oats for his horse, and a common laborer or express rider could 
 earn four times the pay in paper of an American officer. It was 
 proposed in Congress to send a committee of three of its members 
 to headquarters to consult with the commander-in-chief, and, in 
 conjunction with him, to effect such reforms and changes in the 
 various departments of the army as might be deemed necessary. 
 Warm debates ensued. It was objected that this w^ould put too 
 much power into a few hands, and especially into those of the 
 commander-in-chief; "that his influence was already too great ; 
 that even his virti^es afforded motives for alarni ; that the 
 enthusiasm of the army, joined to the kind of dictatorship already 
 confided to him, put Congress and the United States at his mercy ; 
 that it was not expedient to expose a 7nan of the highest virtues 
 to such temptations.''* This passage from a despatch of the 
 French minister to his government, is strongly illustrative of the 
 cautious jealously still existing in Congress with regard to military 
 power, even though wielded by Washington. 
 
 After a prolonged debate, a committee of three was chosen by 
 ballot ; it consisted of Gen. Schuyler and Messrs. John Matthews, 
 and Nathaniel Peabody. It was a great satisfaction to Washing- 
 ton to have his old friend and coadjutor, Schuyler, near him in 
 this capacity, in which, he declared, no man could be more useful, 
 " from his perfect knowledge of the resources of the country, the 
 activity of his temper, his fruitfulness of expedients, and his sound 
 military sense." The committee found the disastrous state of 
 affairs had not been exaggerated. For five months the army had 
 been unpaid. Every department was destitute of money or credit; 
 there were rarely provisions for six days in advance ; on some 
 occasions the troops had been for several successive days without 
 meat; there was no forage; the medical department had neither 
 tea, chocolate, wine, nor spirituous liquors of any kind. "Yet the 
 men," said Washington, "have borne their distress in general, 
 with a firmness and patience never exceeded, and every com- 
 mendation is due to the officers for encouraging them to it by 
 exhortation and example." We have it from another authority, 
 that many officers for some time lived on bread and cheese, rather 
 than take any of the scanty allowance of meat from the men. 
 To soothe the discontents of the army, Congress engaged to make 
 ^ood to the Continental and the independent troops the difference 
 
1780.] FRANCE TO SEND EFFECTUAL AID. 427 
 
 in the value of their pay caused by depreciation of the currency ; 
 and that all moneys or other articles heretofore received by them, 
 should be considered as advanced on account, and comprehended 
 at their just value in the final settlement. 
 
 At this gloomy crisis came a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette, 
 dated April 27th, announcing his arrival at Boston. Washington's 
 eyes, we are told, were suffused with tears as he read this most 
 welcome epistle. The marquis arrived safe at headquarters on 
 the 1 2th or May, where he was welcomed with acclamations, for 
 he was popular with both officers and soldiers. Washington 
 folded him in his arms in a truly paternal embrace, and they were 
 soon closeted together to talk over the state of affairs, when Lafay- 
 ette made known the result of his visit to France. His generous 
 efforts at court had been crowned with success, and he brought 
 the animating intelligence that a French fleet, under the Chevaher 
 de Ternay, was to put to sea early in April, bringing a body of 
 troops under the Count de Rochambeau, and might soon be 
 expected on the coast to cooperate with the American forces. 
 Remaining but a single day at headquarters, he hastened on to 
 the seat of government, where he met the reception which his 
 generous enthusiasm in the cause of American Independence had 
 so fully merited. The whole effective land force of the enemy 
 at New York, was about eight thousand regulars and four thousand 
 refugees. Their naval force consisted of one seventy-four gun 
 ship, and three or four small frigates. In this situation of affairs 
 the French fleet might enter the harbor and gain possession of it 
 without difficulty, cut off its communications, and, with the 
 cooperation of the American army, oblige the city to capitulate. 
 Washington advised Lafayette, therefore, to write to the French 
 commanders, urging them, on their arrival on the coast, to pro- 
 ceed with their land and naval forces, with all expedition, to Sandy 
 Hook, and there await further advices ; should they learn, how- 
 ever, that the expedition under Sir Henry Clinton had returned 
 from the south to New York, they were to proceed to Rhode Island. 
 The army with which Washington was to cooperate in the projected 
 attack upon New York, was so reduced by the departure of troops 
 whose term had expired, and the tardiness in furnishing recruits, 
 that it did not amount quite to four thousand rank and file, fit for 
 duty. A long interval of scarcity and several days of actual 
 famine, brought matters to a crisis. On the 25th of May, in the 
 dusk of the evening, two regiments of the Connecticut line assem- 
 bled on their parade by beat of drum, and declared their intention 
 to march home bag and baggage, " or, at best, to gain subsistence 
 at the point of the bayonet." Col. Meigs, while endeavoring to 
 suppress the mutiny, was struck by one of the soldiers. Some 
 officers of the Pennsylvania line came to his assistance, parading 
 their regiments. Every argument and expostulation was used with 
 the mutineers. They were reminded of their past good conduct, 
 of the noble objects for which they were contending, and of the 
 future indemnifications promised by Congress. It was with diffi- 
 culty they could be prevailed upon to return to their huts. Indeed, 
 
428 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 a few turned out a second time, with their packs, and were not to 
 be pacified. These were arrested and confined. This mutiny, 
 Washington declared, had given him infinitely more concern than 
 any thing that had ever happened, especially as he had no means 
 of paying the troops excepting in Continental money, which, said 
 he "is evidently impracticable from the immense quantity it would 
 require to pay them as much as would make up the depreciation." 
 He looked round anxiously for bread for his famishing troops. 
 New York, Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, were what he 
 termed his "flour country." Virginia was sufficiently tasked to 
 supply the South. New York, by legislative coercion, had already 
 given all that she could spare from the subsistence of her inhabi- 
 tants. Jersey was exhausted by the long residence of the army. 
 Maryland had made great exertions, and might still do something 
 more, and Delaware might contribute handsomely, in proportion 
 to her extent: but Pennsylvania was now the chief dependence, 
 for that State was represented to be full of flour. Washington 
 ■wrote earnestly to President Reed and his letter procured relief for 
 tlie army from the legislature, and a resolve empowering the 
 president and council, during its recess, to declare martial law, 
 should circumstances render it expedient. "This," observes 
 Reed, "gives us a power of doing what may be necessary without 
 attending to the ordinary course of the law, and we shall endeavor 
 to exercise it with prudence and moderation." 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. 
 
 THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 
 
 Several days elapsed before the British ships before Charleston 
 were able, by taking out their guns, provisions, and water, and 
 availing themselves of wind and tide, to pass the bar. They did 
 so on the 20th of March, with but slight opposition from several 
 galleys. Commodore Whipple, then, seeing the vast superiority 
 of their force, made a second retrograde move, stationing some of 
 his ships in Cooper River, and sinking the rest at its mouth so as 
 to prevent the enemy from running up the river, and cutting off 
 communication with the country on the east : the crews and heavy 
 cannon were landed to aid in the defence of the town. The rein- 
 forcements which Sir Henry Clinton had ordered from Savannah 
 were marching toward the Cambayee under Brig.-Gen. Patterson. 
 On his flank moved Major Ferguson with a corps of riflemen, and 
 Major Cochrane with the infantry of the British legion. It was a toil- 
 some march, through swamps and difficult passes. Being arrived 
 in the neighborhood of Port Royal, where Tarleton had succeeded, 
 though indifferently, in remounting his dragoons, Patterson sent 
 orders to that officer to join him. 
 
 Tarleton had soon to encounter a worthy antagonist in Colonel 
 William Washington, the same cavalry officer who had distin- 
 
l78o.] CHARLESTON CAPITULATES, 429 
 
 guished himself at Trenton, and was destined to distinguish himself 
 still more in this Southern campaign. He is described as being six 
 feet in height, broad, stout and corpulent. Bold in the field, care- 
 less in the camp; kind to his soldiers; harassing to his enemies; 
 gay and good-humored; with an upright heart and a generous 
 hand, a universal favorite. He was now at the head of a body of 
 Continental cavalry, consisting of his own and Bland's light-horse, 
 and Pulaski's hussars, A brush took place in the neighborhood of 
 Rantoul's Bridge. Col. Washington had the advantage, took sev- 
 eral prisoners, and drove back the dragoons of the British legion, 
 but durst not pursue them for want of infantry. On the 7th of 
 April, Brigadier-general Woodford with seven hundred Virginia 
 troops, after a forced march of five hundred miles in thirty days, 
 crossed from the east side of Cooper River, by the only passage 
 now open, and threw himself into Charleston. It was a timely 
 reinforcement, for the garrison, when i'h greatest force, amounted 
 to little more than two thousand regulars and one thousand North 
 Carolina militia. About the same time Admiral ArT^uthnot, in the 
 Roebuck, passed Sullivan's Island, with a fresh southerly breeze, 
 at the head of a squadron of seven armed vessels and two trans- 
 ports. Col. Pinckney opened a heavy cannonade from the batter- 
 ies of Fort Moultrie. The ships thundered in reply, and clouds of 
 smoke were raised, under the cover of which^ they slipped by, with 
 no greater loss than twenty-seven men killed and wounded, and 
 took a position near Fort Johnson, just without the range of the 
 shot from the American batteries. Col. Pinckney and a part of 
 the garrison then withdrew from Fort Moultrie. The enemy had 
 by this time completed his first parallel, and the town being almost 
 entirely invested by sea and land, received a joint summons from 
 the British general and admiral to surrender. " Sixty days have 
 passed," writes Lincoln in reply, '* since it has been known that 
 your intentions against this town were hostile, in which time has 
 been afforded to abandon it, but duty and inclination point to the 
 propriety of supporting it to the last extremity." The British bat- 
 teries were now opened. The siege was carried on deliberately by 
 regular parallels, and on a scale of magnitude scarcely warranted 
 by the moderate strength of the place. The arrival of a reinforce- 
 ment of three thousand men from New York enabled Clinton to 
 throw a powerful detachment, under Lord Cornwallis, to the east 
 of Cooper River, to complete the investment of the town and cut off 
 all retreat. Fort Moultrie surrendered. The batteries of the third 
 parallel were opened upon the town. They were so near, that the 
 Hessian yagers, or sharp-shooters, could pick off the garrison while 
 at their guns or on the parapets. This fire was kept up for two 
 days. The besiegers crossed the canal; pushed a double sap to the 
 inside of the abatis, and prepared to make an assault by sea and 
 land. All hopes of a successful defence were at an end. The 
 works were in ruins; the guns almost all dismounted; the garrison 
 exhausted with fatigue, and provisions nearly consumed. The 
 terms which had already been offered and rejected, were still 
 granted, and the capitulation was signed on the 12th of May. The 
 
430 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 garrison were allowed some of the honors of war. They were to 
 march out and deposit their arms between the canal and the works, 
 but the drums were not to beat a British march nor the colors to 
 be uncased. The Continental troops and seamen were to be 
 allowed their baggage, but were to remain prisoners of war. The 
 ofificers of the army and navy were to retain their servants, swords 
 and pistols, and their baggage unsearched; and were permitted to 
 sell their horses ; but not to remove them out of the town. The 
 citizens and the militia were to be considered prisoners on parole ; 
 the latter to be permitted to return home, and both to be protected 
 in person and property as long as they kept their parole. The loss 
 of the British in the siege was seventy-six killed and one hundred 
 and eighty-nine wounded ; that of the Americans nearly the same. 
 The prisoners taken by the enemy, exclusive of the sailors, 
 amounted to five thousand six hundred and eighteen men ; com- 
 jDrising every male adult in the city. The Continental troops did 
 not exceed two thousand, five hundred of whom were in the hos- 
 pital. Sir Henry considered the fall of Charleston decisive of the 
 fate of South Carolina. To complete the subjugation of the coun- 
 try, he planned three expedidons into the interior. One, under 
 Lieut.-Col. Brown, Avas to move up the Savannah River to 
 Augusta, on the borders of Georgia. Another, under Lieut.-Col. 
 Cruger, was to proceed up the southwest side of the Santee River 
 to the district of Ninety-Six, a fertile and salubrious region, 
 between the Savannah and the Saluda rivers : while a third, under 
 Cornwallis, was to cross the Santee, march up the northeast bank, 
 and strike at a corps of troops under Col. Buford, which had 
 arrived too late for the relief of Charleston, and was now making 
 a retrograde move. As Buford was moving with celerity, and had 
 the advantage of distance, Cornwallis detached Tarleton in pur- 
 suit of him, with one hundred and seventy dragoons, a hundred 
 mounted infantry, and a three-pounder. The bold partisan pushed 
 forward with his usual ardor and rapidity. The weather was sultry, 
 many of his horses gave out through fatigue and heat ; he pressed 
 others by the way, leaving behind such of his troops as could not 
 keep pace with him. He was anxious to overtake Buford before 
 he could form a junction with the force he was seeking, and came 
 upon his rear-guard about three o'clock in the afternoon, and cap- 
 tured a sergeant and four dragoons. Buford had not expected so 
 prompt an appearance of the enemy. He hastily drew up his 
 men in order of battle, in an open wood, on the right of the road. 
 His artillery and wagons, which were in the advance, escorted by 
 part of his infantry, were ordered to continue on their march. 
 There appears to have been some confusion on the part of the 
 Americans, and they had an impetuous foe to deal with. Before 
 they Avere well prepared for action they were attacked in front and 
 on both flanks by cavalry and mounted infantry. It was not until 
 the latter were within ten yards that there was a partial discharge 
 of musketry. Several of the dragoons suffered by this fire. Tarle* 
 ton himself was unhorsed, but his troopers rode on. The American 
 battalion was broken ; most of the men threw down their arms 
 
l78o.] HOSTILITIES IN NEW JERSEY. 431 
 
 and begged for quarter, but were cut down without mercy. One 
 hundred and thirteen were slain on the spot, and one hundred and 
 fifty so mangled and maimed that they could not be removed. 
 Col. Buford and a {^vt of the cavalry escaped, as did about a hun- 
 dred of the infantry, who were with the baggage in the advance. 
 The whole British loss was two officers and three privates killed, 
 and one officer and fourteen privates wounded. The two other 
 detachments which had been sent out by Clinton, met with nothing 
 but submission. The people in general, considering resistance 
 hopeless, accepted the proffered protection, and conformed to its 
 humiliating terms. The negroes seem to have regarded the invad- 
 ers as deliverers. They quitted the plantations and followed the 
 army. Sir Henry now persuaded himself that South Carohna was 
 subdued, and proceeded to station garrisons in various parts, to 
 maintain it in subjection. He issued a proclamation on the 3d of 
 June, discharging all the military prisoners from their paroles after 
 the 20th of the month, excepting those captured in Fort Moultrie 
 and Charleston. All thus released from their parole were rein- 
 stated in the rights and duties of British subjects; but, at the same 
 time, they were bound to take an active part in support of the 
 government hitherto opposed by them. All who should neglect to 
 return to their allegiance, or should refuse to take up arms against 
 the independence of their country, were to be considered as rebels 
 and treated accordingly. Having struck a blow, which, as he 
 conceived, was to ensure the subjugation of the South, Sir Henry 
 embarked for New York on the 5th of June, with a part of his 
 farces, leaving the residue under the command of Lord Cornwal- 
 lis, who was to carry the war into North Carolina, and thence into 
 Virginia, 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOSTILITIES IN THE EAST. 
 
 A HANDBILL published by the British authorities in New York, 
 reached Washington's camp on the ist of June, and made known 
 the surrender of Charleston. Knyphausen, through spies and 
 emissaries, had received exaggerated accounts of the recent out- 
 break in Washington's camp, and of the general discontent 
 among the people of New Jersey; and was persuaded that a 
 sudden show of miUtary protection, following up the news of the 
 capture of Charleston, would produce a general desertion among 
 the troops, and rally back the inhabitants of the Jerseys to their 
 allegiance to the crown. In this belief he projected a descent 
 into the Jerseys with about five thousand men, and some light 
 artillery, who were to cross in divisions in the night of the 5th 
 of June from Staten Island to Elizabethtown Point. The first 
 division, led by Brig. -Gen. Sterling, landed before dawn on the 
 6th, and advanced as silently as possible. The heavy and 
 
432 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 measured tramp of the troops, however, caught the ear of an 
 American sentinel stationed at a fork where the roads from the 
 old and new point joined. He challenged the dimly descried 
 mass as it approached, and receiving no answer, fired into it. 
 That shot wounded Gen. Sterling in the thigh, and ultimately- 
 proved mortal. The wounded general was carried back, and 
 Knyphausen took his place. This delayed the march until sun- 
 rise, and gave time for the troops of the Jersey line, under Col. 
 Elias Dayton, stationed in Elizabethtown, to assemble. They 
 were too weak in numbers, however, to withstand the enemy, 
 but retreated in good order, skirmishing occasionally. Signal 
 guns and signal fires were rousing the country. The militia and 
 yeomanry armed themselves with such weapons as were at hand, 
 and hastened to their alarm posts. The enemy took the old 
 road, by what was called Galloping Hill, towards the village of 
 Connecticut Farms ; fired upon from behind walls and thickets by 
 the hasty levies of the country. At Connecticut Farms, the 
 retreating troops under Dayton fell in with the Jersey brigade, 
 under Gen. Maxwell, and a few mihtia joining them, the Ameri- 
 cans were enabled to make some stand, and even to hold the 
 enemy in check. The latter, however, brought up several field 
 pieces, and being reinforced by a second division which had 
 crossed from Staten Island some time after the first, compelled the 
 Americans again to retreat. Some of the enemy pretending that 
 the inhabitants had fired upon them from their windows, began 
 to pillage and set fire to the houses. It so happened that to this 
 village the Rev. James Caldwell, " the rousing gospel preacher," 
 had removed his family as to a place of safety, after his church at 
 Elizabethtown had been burnt down by the British in January. On 
 the present occasion he had retreated with the regiment to 
 which he was chaplain. His Avife, however, remained at the par- 
 sonage with her two youngest children, confiding in the protection 
 of Providence, and the humanity of the enemy. When the sack- 
 ing of the village took place, she retired with her children into a 
 back room of the house. Her infant of eight months was in the 
 arms of an attendant; she herself was seated on the side of a bed 
 holding a child of three years by the hand, and was engaged in 
 prayer. All was terror and confusion in the village; when sud- 
 denly a musket was discharged in at the window. Two balls 
 struck her in the breast, and she fell dead on the floor. The par- 
 sonage and church were set on fire, and it was with difficulty her 
 body was rescued from the flames. In the mean time Knyphausen 
 was pressing on with his main forc^e towards Morristown. The 
 booming of alarm guns had roused the country; every valley 
 was pouring out its yeomanry, Two thousand were said to be 
 already in arms below the mountains. Morristown had been 
 made the American rallying-point. It stands at the foot of what 
 are called the Short Hills, on the west side of Railway River, 
 which runs in front of it. On the bank of the river, Gen. Max- 
 well's Jersey brigade and the militia of the neighborhood weie 
 drawn up to dispute the passage; and on the Short Hills in the 
 
l78o.] WATTS USED FOR WADDING. 433 
 
 rear was Washington with the main body of his forces, strongly 
 posted, and ready for action. All night his camp fires lighted 
 up the Short Hills, and he remained on the alert expecting to be 
 assailed in the morning; but in the morning no enemy was to be 
 seen. Knyphausen had experienced enough to convince him that 
 he had been completely misinformed as to the disposition of the 
 Jersey people and of the army. Disappointed as to the main 
 objects of his enterprise, he had retreated under the cover of the 
 night, to the place of his debarkation, intending to recross to 
 Staten Island immediately. In the camp at the Short HjUs was 
 Rev. James Caldwell, whose home had been laid desolate. He 
 was still ignorant of the event, but had passed a night of great 
 anxiety, and, procuring the protection of a flag, hastened back in 
 the morning to Connecticut Farms. He found the village in ashes, 
 and his wife a mangled corpse! The tragical fate of Mrs. Cald- 
 well produced almost as much excitement throughout the country 
 as that which had been caused in a preceding year, by the massa- 
 cre of Miss McCrea. She was connected with some of the first 
 people of New Jersey ; was winning in person and character, and 
 universally beloved. 
 
 On the 17th of June the fleet from the South arrived in the bay 
 of New York, and Sir Henry Chnton landed his troops on Staten 
 Island, but almost immediately reembarked them ; as if meditat- 
 ing an expedition up the river. Fearing for the safety of West 
 Point, Washington set off on the 21st June, with the main body 
 of his troops, towards Pompton ; while Gen. Greene, with Max- 
 well and Stark's brigades, Lee's dragoons and the militia of the 
 neighborhood, remained encamped on the Short Hills, to cover 
 the country and protect the stores at Morristown. Washington's 
 movements were slow and wary. At Rockaway Bridge, about 
 eleven miles beyond Morristown. he received word on the 23d, 
 that the enemy were advacing from Elizabethtown against Spring- 
 field. The reembarkation of the troops at Staten Island had been 
 a stratagem of Sir Henry Clinton to divert the attention of Wash- 
 ington, and enable Knyphausen to carry out the enterprise which 
 had hitherto hung fire. No sooner did the latter ascertain that the 
 American commander-in-chief had moved off with his main force 
 towards the Highlands, than he sallied from Elizabethtown five 
 thousand strong, with a large body of cavalry, and fifteen or 
 twenty pieces of artillery ; hoping not merely to destroy the public 
 stores at Morristown, but to get possession of those difficult hills 
 and defiles, among which Washington's army had been so securely 
 posted, and which constituted the strength of that part of the 
 country. Early on the morning of the 23d Knyphausen pushed 
 forward towards Springfield. Beside the main road which passes 
 directly through the village towards Morristown, there is another, 
 north of it, called the Vauxhall road, crossing several small 
 streams, the confluence of which forms the Rahway. These two 
 roads unite beyond the village in the principal pass of the Short 
 Hills. The enemy's troops advanced rapidly in two compact 
 columns, the right one by the Vauxhall road, the other, by the 
 
434 UFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 main or direct road. Gen. Greene was stationed among the Short 
 Hills, about a mile above the town. At five o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, signal-guns gave notice of the approach of the enemy. The 
 drums beat to arms throughout the camp. The troops were hasti- 
 ly called in from their posts among the mountain passes, and 
 preparations were made to defend the village. There was some 
 sharp fighting at a bridge on the Vauxhall road, where Major Lee 
 with his dragoons and picket-guard held the right column at bay; 
 a part of the column, however, forded the stream above the 
 bridge, gained a commanding position, and obliged Lee to retire. 
 The left column met with similar opposition from Dayton and his 
 Jersey regiment. None showed more ardor in the fight than Cald- 
 well the chaplain. The image of his murdered wife was before 
 his eyes. Finding the men in want of wadding, he galloped to 
 the Presbyterian church and brought thence a quantity of Watts' 
 psalm and hymn books, which he distributed for the purpose 
 among the soldiers. "Now," cried he, "put Watts into them, 
 boys! " The severest fighting of the day was at the bridge over 
 the Rahway. For upwards of half an hour Col. Angel defended 
 it with his handful of men against a vastly superior force. One 
 fourth of his men were either killed or disabled : the loss of the 
 enemy was still more severe. Angel was at length compelled to 
 retire. He did so in good order, carrying off his wounded, and 
 making his way through the village to the bridge beyond it. Here 
 his retreat was bravely covered by Col. Shreve, but he too was 
 obliged to give way before the overwhelming force of the enemy, 
 and join the brigades of Maxwell and Stark upon the hill. Gen. 
 Greene, finding his front too much extended for his small force, 
 and that he was in danger of being outflanked on the left by the 
 column pressing forward on the Vauxhall road, took post with his 
 main body on the first range of hills, where the roads were brought 
 near to a point, and passed between him and the height occupied 
 by Stark and Maxwell. He then threw out a detachment which 
 checked the further advance of the right column of the enemy 
 along the Vauxhall road, and secured that pass through the Short 
 Hills. The resistance already experienced, especially at the 
 bridge, and the sight of militia gathering from various points, 
 dampened the ardor of the hostile commander. Before the brigade 
 detached by Washington arrived at the scene of action, the enemy 
 had retreated, after wreaking upon Springfield the same vengeance 
 they had inflicted on Connecticut Farms. The whole village, 
 excepting four houses, was reduced to ashes. Their second retreat 
 was equally ignoble with their first. They were pursued and 
 harassed the whole way to Elizabethtown by light scouting parties 
 and by the militia and yeomanry of the country, exasperated by 
 the sight of the burning village. Lee, too, came upon their rear- 
 guard with his dragoons ; captured a quantity of stores abandoned 
 by them in the hurry of retreat, and made prisoners of several 
 refugees. During the night the enemy passed over to Staten 
 Island by their bridge of boats. By six o'clock in the morning all 
 had crossed, and the State of New Jersey, so long harassed by the 
 
1780.] FRENCH TROOPS AND SHIPS ARRIVE. 435 
 
 campaignings of either army, was finally evacuated by the enemy. 
 It had proved a school of war to the American troops. The 
 incessant marchings and counter-marchings ; the rude encamp- 
 ments; the exposures to all kinds of hardship and privation ; the 
 alarms; the stratagems; the rough encounters and adventurous 
 enterprises of which this had been the theatre for the last three or 
 four years, had rendered the patriot soldier hardy, adroit, and 
 long-suffering; had accustomed him to danger, inured him to 
 discipline, and brought him nearly on a level with the European 
 mercenary in the habitudes and usages of arms, while he had the 
 superior incitements of home, country, and independence. The 
 ravaging incursions of the enemy had exasperated the most peace- 
 loving parts of the country ; made soldiers of husbandmen, 
 acquainted them with their own powers, and taught them that the 
 foe was vulnerable. The recent ineffectual attempts of a veteran 
 general to penetrate the fastnesses of Morristown, though at the 
 head of a veteran force, "which would once have been deemed 
 capable of sweeping the whole continent before it," was a lasting 
 theme of triumph to the inhabitants ; and it is still the honest 
 boast among the people of Morris County, that •' the enemy never 
 were able to get a footing among our hills." At the same time 
 the conflagration of villages, by which they sought to cover or 
 revenge their repeated failures, and their precipitate retreat, 
 harassed and insulted by half-disciplined militia, and a crude, 
 rustic levy, formed an ignominious close to the British campaign 
 in the Jerseys. 
 
 Circumstances soon convinced Washington that the enemy had 
 no present intention of attacking West Point, but merely menaced 
 him at various points, to retard his operations, and oblige him to 
 call out the mihtia ; thereby interrupting agriculture, distressing 
 the country, and rendering his cause unpopular. He now exerted 
 himself to the utmost to procure from the different State Legisla- 
 tures, their quotas and supplies for the regular army. Liberal 
 contributions were made by individuals ; a bank was established 
 by the inhabitants of Philadelphia to facihtate the supplies of the 
 army, and an association of ladies of that city raised by subscrip- 
 tion between seven and eight thousand dollars, which were put at 
 the disposition of Washington. 
 
 On the loth of July a French fleet, under the Chevalier de 
 Ternay, arrived at Newport, in Rhode Island. It was composed 
 of seven ships of the line, two frigates and two bombs, and con- 
 voyed transports on board of which were upwards of five thousand 
 h'oops. This was the first division of the forces promised by 
 France, of which Lafayette had spoken. The second division 
 had been detained at Brest for want of transports, but might soon 
 be expected. The Count de Rochambeau, Lieutenant-general of 
 fhe royal armies, was commander-in-chief of this auxiliary force. 
 He was a veteran, fifty-five years of age, who had early distin- 
 guished himself, when colonel of the regiment of Auvergne, and 
 had gained laurels in various battles, especially that of Kloster 
 camp, of which he decided the success. Since then, he had risen 
 
446 LIFE OF WASHING FOX. 
 
 from one post of honor to another, until intrusted uith his present 
 important command. Another officer of rank and distinction in 
 this force, was Major-general the Marquis de Chastellux, a friend 
 and relative of Lafayette, but much his senior, being now forty- 
 six years of age. The troops were landed to the east of the town; 
 their encampment was on a fine situation, and extended nearly 
 across the island. Much was said of their gallant and martial 
 appearance. There was the noted regiment of Auvergne, in com- 
 mand of which the Count de Rochambeau had first gained his 
 laurels, but which was now commanded by his son the viscount, 
 thirty years of age. A legion of six hundred men also was espe- 
 cially admired; it was commanded by the Duke de Lauzun 
 (Lauzun-Biron), who had gained reputation in the preceding year 
 by the capture of Senegal. It was remarkable how soon the 
 French accommodated themselves to circumstances, made light 
 of all the privations and inconveniences of a new country, and 
 conformed to tlie familiar simplicity of republican manners. Gen. 
 Heath, who, by Washington's orders, was there to offer his 
 services, was, by his own account, "charmed with the officers." 
 The instructions of the French ministry to the Count de Rocham> 
 beau placed him entirely under the command of General Wash- 
 ington. The French troops were to be considered as auxiliaries, 
 and as such were to take the left of the American troops, and. in 
 all cases of ceremony, to yield them the preference. This con- 
 siderate arrangement had been adopted at the suggestion of the 
 Marquis de Lafayette, and was intended to prevent the recurrence 
 of those questions of rank and etiquette which had heretofore dis- 
 turbed the combined service. Washington, in general orders, 
 congratulated the army on the arrival of this timely and generous 
 succor, which he hailed as a new tie between France and America; 
 anticipating that the only contention between the two armies would 
 be to excel each other in good offices, and in the display of every 
 military virtue. The American cockade had hitherto been black, 
 that of the French was white ; he recommended to his officers a 
 cockade of black and white intermingled in compliment to their 
 allies, and as a symbol of friendship and union. 
 
 The arrival of the British Admiral Graves, at New York, on the 
 13th of July, with six ships-of-the-line, gave the enemy such a super- 
 iority of naval force, that the design on New York was postponed 
 until the second French division should make its appearance. In 
 the mean time, Sir Henry Clinton determined to forestall the 
 meditated attack upon New York, by beating up the French 
 quarters on Rhode Island. He proceeded with his troops to 
 Throg's Neck on the Sound. Washington crossed the Hudson to 
 Peekskill, and prepared to move towards King's Bridge, with the 
 main body of his troops, which had recently been reinforced. His in- 
 tention was, either to oblige Sir Henry to abandon his project 
 against Rhode Island, or to strike a blow at New York during his 
 absence. As Washington was on horseback, observmg the cross- 
 ing of the last division of his troops. Gen. Arnold approached, 
 having just arrived in the camp. He had been manoeuvring of late 
 
1 ySo. ] CO VENANTERS IN NOR TH CAR OLINA. 43 7 
 
 to get the command of West Point. He now inquired whether any 
 place had been assigned to him. He was told that he was to com- 
 mand the left wing. The silence and evident chagrin with which 
 the reply was received surprised Washington, and he was still more 
 surprised when he subsequently learned that Arnold was more 
 desirous of a garrison post than of a command in the field, his ex- 
 cuse being that his wounded leg unfitted him for action either on 
 foot or horseback ; but that at West Point he might render himself 
 useful. 
 
 Sir Henry heard of the sudden move of Washington, and learned, 
 moreover, that the position of the French at Newport had been 
 strengthened by the militia from the neighboring country. These 
 tidings disconcerted his plans. He left Admiral Arbuthnot to 
 proceed with his squardron to Newport, blockade the French fleet, 
 and endeavor to intercept the second division, supposed to be on 
 its way, while he with his troops hastened back to New York. 
 Washington again withdrew his forces to the west side of the 
 Hudson ; first establishing a post and throwing up small works at 
 Dobos' Ferry, about ten miles above King's Bridge, to secure a 
 communication across the river for the transportation of troops 
 and ordnance, should the design upon New York be prosecuted. 
 
 Arnold now received the important command which he had so 
 earnestly coveted. It included the fortvess at West Point and the 
 posts from Fishkill to King's Ferry, together with the corps of in- 
 fantry and cavalry advanced towards the enemy's line on the east 
 side of the river. He was ordered to have the works at the Point 
 completed as expeditiously as possible, and to keep all his posts on 
 their guard against surprise. Washington took post at Orangetown 
 or Tappan, on the borders of the Jerseys, and opposite to Dobbs* 
 Ferry, to be at hand for any attempt upon New York. 
 
 Lord Cornwallis, when left in military command at the South by 
 Sir Henry Clinton, was charged with the invasion of North Caro- 
 lina. It was an enterprise in which much difficulty was to be appre- 
 hended, both from the character of the people and the country. 
 The original settlers were from various parts, most of them men 
 who had experienced political or religious oppression, and had 
 brought with them a quick sensibility to wrong, a stern apprecia- 
 tion of their rights, and an indomitable spirit of freedom and inde- 
 pendence. In the heart of the State was a hardy Presbyterian 
 stock, the Scotch Irish, as they were called, having emigrated from 
 Scotland to Ireland, and thence to America ; and who were said 
 to possess the impulsiveness of the Irishman, with the dogged 
 resolution of the Covenanter. The early history of the colony 
 abounds with instances of this spirit among its people. "They 
 always behaved insolently to their governors," complains Gov. 
 Barrington in 1731 ; "some they have driven out of the country — • 
 at other times they set up a government of their own choice, sup- 
 ported by men under arms." It was in fact the spirit of popular lib- 
 erty and self-government which stirred within them, and gave birth 
 to the glorious axiom: "the rights of the many against the ex- 
 actions of the few. ' ' Sq ripe was this spirit at an early day, that when 
 
438 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the boundary line was run, in 1727, betAveen North Carolina and 
 Virginia, the borderers were eager to be included within the 
 former province, " as there they payed no tribute to God or Caesar." 
 It was this spirit which gave rise to the confederacy, called the 
 "Regulation," formed to withstand the abuses of power; and the 
 first blood shed in our country, in resistance to arbitrary taxation, 
 was at Almance in this province, in a conflict between the Regula- 
 tors and Governor Tryon. Above all, it should never be forgotten, 
 that at Mecklenburg, in the heart of North Carolina, was fulmin- 
 ated the first declaration of independence of the British crown, up- 
 wards of a year before a hke declaration by Congress. A popula- 
 tion so characterized presented formidable difficulties to the invader. 
 The physical difficulties arising from the nature of the country con- 
 sisted in its mountain fastnesses in the northwestern part, its vast 
 forests, its sterile tracts, its long rivers, destitute of bridges, and 
 which, though fordable in fair weather, were liable to be swollen 
 by sudden storms and freshets, and rendered deep, turbulent and 
 impassable. These rivers, in fact, which rushed down from the 
 mountain, but wound sluggishly through the plains, were the 
 military strength of the country. Lord Cornwalhs disposed of his 
 troops in cantonments, to cover the frontiers of South Carohna and 
 Georgia, and maintain their internal quiet. The command was given 
 to Lord Rawdon, who made Camden his principal post. This 
 town, the capital of Kershaw District, a fertile, fruitful country, was 
 situated on the cast bank of the Waterce River, on the road lead- 
 ing to North Carolina. Cornwallis set up his headquarters at 
 Charleston. The proclamation of Sir Henry Clinton, putting an 
 end to all neutrality, and the rigorous penalties and persecutions 
 with which all infractions of its terms were punished, had for a time 
 quelled the spirit of the countr)\ By degrees, however, the dread 
 of British power gave way to impatience of British exactions. Symp- 
 toms of revolt manifested themselves in various parts. They were 
 encouraged by intelligence that De Kalb, sent by Washington, 
 was advancing through North Carolina at the head of two thousand 
 men, and that the militia of that State and of Virginia were joining 
 Lis standard. This was soon followed by tidings that Gates, the 
 conqueror of Burgoyne, was on his way to take command of the 
 Southern forces. The prospect of such aid from the North reani- 
 mated the Southern pariots. One of the most eminent of these was 
 Thomas Sumter, whom the Carolinas had surnamed the Game 
 Cock. He was between forty and fifty years of age, brave, hardy, 
 vigorous, resolute. He had served against the Indians in his boy- 
 hood, during the old French war, and had been present at the 
 defeat of Braddock. In the present war he still had held the rank of 
 lieutenant-colonel of riflemen in the Continental line. After the 
 fall of Charleston, when patriots took refuge in contiguous States, 
 or in the natural fastnesses of the country, he had retired with his 
 family into one of the latter. The lower part of South Carolina for 
 upwards of a hundred miles back from the sea is a level country, 
 abounding with swamps, locked up in the windings of the rivers 
 which flow down from the Appalachian Mountains. Some of these 
 
1780. 1 THOMAS SUMTER THE GAME COCK, 439 
 
 swamps are mere canebrakes, of little use until subdued by cul- 
 tivation, when they yield abundant crops of rice. Others are 
 covered with forests of cypress, cedar and laurel, green all the year 
 and odoriferous, but tangled with vines and almost impenetrable. 
 In their bosoms, however, are fine savannahs ; natural lawns, open 
 to cultivation, and yielding abundant pasturage. It requires local 
 knowledge, however, to penetrate these wildernesses, and hence 
 they form strongholds to the people of the country. In one of these 
 natural fastnesses, on the borders of the Santee, Sumter had taken up 
 his residence, and hence he would sally forth in various directions. 
 During a temporary absence his retreat had been invaded, his 
 house burnt to the ground, his wife and children driven forth with- 
 out shelter. Private injury had thus been added to the incentives 
 of patriotism. Emerging from his hiding-place, he had thrown 
 himself among a handful of his fellow-sufferers who had taken 
 refuge in North Carolina. They chose him at once as a leader, and 
 resolved on a desperate struggle for the deliverance of their native 
 State. Destitute of regular weapons, they forged rude substitutes 
 out of the implements of husbandry. Old mill-saws were converted 
 into broad-swards ; knives at the ends of poles served for lances ; 
 while the country housewives gladly gave up their pewter dishes 
 and other utensils, to be melted down and cast into bullets for such 
 as had firearms. When Sumter led this gallant band of exiles 
 over the border, they did not amount in number to two hundred ; 
 yet, with these, he attacked and routed a well-armed body of British 
 troops and tories, the terror of the frontier. His followers supplied 
 themselves with weapons from the slain. In a little while his band 
 was augmented by recruits. Parties of militia, also, recently em- 
 bodied under the compelling measures of Cornwallis, deserted to 
 the patriot standard. Thus reinforced to the amount of six 
 hundred men, he made, on the 30th of July, a spirited attack on 
 the British post at Rocky Mount, near the Catawba, but was 
 repulsed. A more successful attack was made by him, eight days 
 afterwards, on another post at Hanging Rock. The Prince of 
 Wales regiment which defended it was nearly annihilated, and a 
 large body of North Carohna loyalists, under Col. Brian, was 
 routed and dispersed. The gallant exploits of Sumter were emul- 
 ated in other parts of the country, and the partisan war thus com- 
 menced was carried on wdth an audacity that soon obliged the 
 enemy to call in their outposts, and collect their troops in large 
 masses. The advance of De Kalb with reinforcements from the 
 North, had been retarded by various difficulties, the most important 
 of which was want of provisions. There was no flour in the camp, 
 nor were dispositions made to furnish any. His troops were re- 
 duced for a time to short allowance, and at length, on the 6th of 
 July, brought to a positive halt at Deep River. For three weeks 
 he remained in this encampment, foraging an exhausted country 
 for a meager subsistence, and was thinking of deviating to the 
 right, and seeking the fertile counties of Mecklenburg and Rowan, 
 when, on the 25th of July, Gen. Gates arrived at the camp. He 
 approved of De Kalb's standing orders, but at the first review of 
 
440 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the troops, to the great astonishment of the baron, gave orders for 
 them to hold themselves in readiness to vi\?ixc\). 2Xz. moment" s warn- 
 ing. It was in vain their destitute situation was represented to him, 
 and that they had not a day's provision in advance. His reply 
 was, that wagons laden with supplies were coming on, and would 
 overtake them in two days. On the 27th, he actually.put the army 
 in motion over the Buffalo Ford, on the direct road to Camden, 
 though warned of the sterile nature of that route. He persisted, 
 observing that he should the sooner form a junction with Caswell 
 and the North Carolina militia ; and as to the sterility of the coun- 
 try, his supplies would soon overtake him. The route led through a 
 region of pine barrens, sand hills and swamps, with few human hab- 
 itations, and those mostly deserted. The supplies of which he had 
 spoken never overtook him. His army had to subsist itself on lean 
 cattle, roaming almost wild in the woods; and to supply the want 
 of bread with green Indian corn, unripe apples, and peaches. The 
 consequence was, a distressing prevalence of dysentery. Having 
 crossed the Pedee River on the 3d of August, the army was joined 
 by a handful of brave Virginia regulars, under Lieut.-Col. Porter- 
 field, who had been wandering about the country since the disas- 
 ter of Charleston ; and, on the 7th, the much-desired junction took 
 place with the North Carolina militia. On the 13th they encamped 
 at Rugeley's l\Iills, otherwise called Clermont, about twelve miles 
 from Camden, and on the following day were reinforced by a bri- 
 gade of seven hundred Virginia mihtia, under Gen. Stevens. On 
 the approach of Gates, Lord Rawdon had concentrated his forces 
 at Camden. The post was flanked by the Wateree River and Pine- 
 tree Creek, and strengthened with redoubts. Lord CornwalHs had 
 hastened hither from Charleston and arrived on the 13th. The 
 British effective force thus collected was something more than two- 
 thousand, including officers. The forces under Gates, accord- 
 ing to the return of his adjutant-general, were three thou- 
 sand and fifty-two fit for duty ; more than two-thirds of them, 
 however, were militia. On the 14th, he received an express 
 from Gen. Sumter, who, with his partisan corps, after haras- 
 sing the enemy at various points, was now endeavoring to cut 
 off their supplies from Charleston. The object of the express 
 was to ask a reinforcement of regulars to aid him in 
 capturing a large convoy of clothing, ammunition and stores, on 
 its way to the garrison, and which would pass Wateree Ferry, 
 about a mile from Camden. Gates accordingly detached Col. 
 Woodford of the Maryland hne, with one hundred regulars, a party 
 of artillery, and two brass field-pieces. On the same evening he 
 moved with his main force to take post at a deep stream about 
 seven miles from Camden, intending to attack Lord Rawdon or his 
 redoubts should he march out in force to repel Sumter. Cornwallis 
 on the very same evening sallied forth from Camden to attack the 
 American camp at Clermont. About two o'clock at night, the two 
 forces blundered, as it were, on each other about half way. A 
 skirmish took place between their advanced guards, in which 
 Porterfield of the Virginia regulars was mortally wounded. Gates 
 
lySo.] BATTLE OF CAMDEN. 441 
 
 was astounded that the enemy at hand was Cornwallis with three 
 thousand men. At daybreak (Aug. i6th), the enemy were dimly 
 descried advancing in column. Gates ordered that Stevens should 
 advance briskly with his brigade of Virginia militia and attack 
 them, but the right" wing of the enemy was already in line. A few 
 sharp-shooters were detached to run forward, post themselves be- 
 hind trees within forty or fifty yards of the enemy to extort their fire 
 while at a distance, and render it less terrible to the mihtia. The 
 expedient failed. The British rushed on shouting and firing. 
 Stevens called to his men to stand firm, and put them in mind of their 
 bayonets. His words were unheeded. The inexperienced militia, 
 dismayed and confounded by this impetuous assault, threw down 
 their loaded muskets and fled. The panic spread to the North 
 Carolina militia. Part of them made a temporary stand, but soon 
 joined with the rest in flight, rendered headlong and disastrous by 
 the charge and pursuit of Tarleton and his cavalry. Gates, 
 seconded by his officers, made several attempts to rally the militia, 
 but was borne along with them, and retreated from the field. The 
 Maryland brigades and the Delaware regiment, unconscious that 
 they were deserted by the militia, stood their ground, and bore the 
 brunt of the battle. Though repeatedly broken, they as often rallied, 
 and braved even the deadly push of the bayonet. At length a 
 charge of Tarleton's cavalry on their flank threw them into con- 
 fusion, and drove them into the woods and swamps. None showed 
 more gallantry on this disastrous day than the Baron de Kalb ; he 
 fought on foot with the second Maryland brigade, and fell ex- 
 hausted after receiving eleven wounds. His aide-de-camp, De 
 Buysson, supported him in his arms and was repeatedly wounded 
 in protecting him. He announced the rank and nation of his gen- 
 eral, and both were taken prisoners. De Kalb died in the course 
 of a few days, dictating in his last moments a letter expressing his 
 affection for the officers and men of his division who had so nobly 
 stood by him in this deadly strife. The further they fled, the more 
 the militia were dispersed, until the generals were abandoned by 
 all but their aids. To add to the mortification of Gates, he learned in 
 the course of his retreat that Sumter had been completely success- 
 ful, and having reduced the enemy's redoubt on the Wateree, and 
 captured one hundred prisoners and forty loaded wagons, was 
 marching off with his booty on the opposite side of the river. He 
 had no longer any means of cooperating with him, and proceeded 
 with Gen. Caswell towards the village of Charlotte, about sixty 
 miles distant. On the morning of the 17th of August, Cornwallis 
 detached Tarleton in pursuit of Sumter with a body of cavalry and 
 light infantry, about three hundred and fifty strong. Sumter was 
 retreating up the western side of the Wateree, much encumbered 
 by his spoils and prisoners. Tarleton pushed up by forced and 
 concealed marches on the eastern side. Horses and men suffered 
 from the intense heat of the weather. At dusk Tarleton descried 
 the fires of the American camp about a mile from the opposite 
 shore. He ^?.vq. orders to secure all boats on the river, and to 
 light no fire in the camp. In the morning his sentries gave word 
 
442 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 that the Americans were quitting their encampment. It was evi- 
 dent they knew nothing of a British force being in pursuit of them. 
 Tarleton now crossed the Wateree ; the infantry with a three- 
 ponder passed in boats ; the cavahy swam their horses where the 
 river was not fordable. The delay in crossing, and the dili- 
 gence of Sumter's march, increased the distance between the 
 pursuers and the pursued. About noon a part of Tarleton's force 
 gave out through heat and fatigue. Leaving them to repose on the 
 bank of Fishing Creek, he pushed on with about one hundred 
 dragoons, the freshest and most able. As he entered a valley, a 
 discharge of small-arms from a thicket tumbled a dragoon from his 
 saddle. A sergeant and five dragoons rode up to the summit of a 
 neighboring hill to reconnoitre, and looking over beheld the Ameri- 
 can camp on a neighboring height, and apparently in a most negli- 
 gent condition, Sumter, in fact, having pressed his retreat to the 
 neighborhood of the Catawba Ford, and taken a strong position at 
 the mouth of Fishing Creek, and his patrols having scoured the 
 road without discovering any sign of an enemy, considered himself 
 secure from surprise. The troops having for the last four days 
 been almost without food or sleep, were now indulged in complete 
 relaxation. Their arms were stacked, and they were scattered 
 about, some strolling, some lying on the grass under the trees, 
 some bathing in the river. Sumter himself had thrown off part of 
 his clothes on account of the heat of the weather. Tarleton pre- 
 pared for instant attack. His cavalry and infantry formed into one 
 line, dashed forward with a general shout, and, before the Ameri- 
 cans could recover from their surprise, got between them and the 
 parade ground on which the muskets were stacked. All was con- 
 fusion and consternation in the American camp. Some opposition 
 was made from behind baggage wagons, and there was skirmish- 
 ing in various quarters, but in a little while there was a universal 
 flight to the river and the woods. Between three and four hundred 
 were killed and wounded ; all their arms and baggage with two 
 brass field-pieces fell into the hands of the enemy, who also recup- 
 tured the prisoners and booty taken at Camden. Sumter with 
 about three hundred and fifty of his men effected a retreat ; he 
 galloped off, it is said, without saddle, hat or coat. 
 
 Gates, continued on to Hillsborough, one hundred and eighty 
 miles from Camden, Avhere he made a stand and endeavored to 
 rally his scattered forces. His regular troops, however, were lit- 
 tle more than one thousand. Washington on receiving Avord of the 
 disastrous reverse at Camden, gave orders that some regular troops, 
 enlisted in Maryland for the war, and intended for the main army, 
 should be sent to the southward. He wrote to Gov. Rutledge of 
 South Carolina (i2th Sept.), to raise a permanent, compact, well- 
 organized body of troops, instead of depending upon a numerous 
 army of militia, always "inconceivably expensive, and too fluctuat- 
 ing and undisciplined" to oppose a regular force. He was sdll 
 more urgent and explicit on this head in his letters to the President 
 of Congress (Sept. 15th). " Regular troops alone," said he, "are 
 equal to the exigencies of modern war, as well for defence as 
 
1780.] TREASON OF BEN-EDICT ARNOLD. 443 
 
 offence. The firmness requisite for the real business of fighting is 
 only to be attained by a constant course of discipline and service." 
 
 Washington received a letter from the now unfortunate Gates, 
 dated at Hillsborough, Aug. 30th and Sept. 3d, giving particulars 
 of his discomfiture. No longer vaunting and vairtglorious, he 
 pleads nothing but his patriotism, and deprecates the fall which he 
 apprehends awaits him. The appeal which he makes to Washing- 
 ton's magnanimity to support him in this day of his reverse, is the 
 highest testimonial he could give to the exalted character of the 
 man whom he once affected to underrate, and aspired to supplant. 
 
 Washington, hearing that the Count de Guichen, with his West 
 India squadron, was approaching the coast, prepared to proceed 
 to Hartford in Connecticut, there to hold a conference with the 
 Count de Rochambeau and the Chtvalier de Ternay, and concert 
 a plan for future operations, of which the attack on New York was 
 to fonn the principal feature. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 TREASON OF BENEDICT ARNOLD. 
 
 We have now to enter upon a sad episode of our revolutionary 
 history — the treason of Arnold. Of the military skill, daring enter- 
 prise, and indomitable courage of this man — ample evidence has 
 been given in the foregoing pages. Of the implicit confidence 
 reposed in his patriotism by Washington, sufficient proof is mani- 
 fested in the command with which he was actually entrusted. But 
 Arnold was false at heart, and, at the very time of seeking that 
 command, had been for many months in traitorous correspondence 
 with the enemy. The first idea of proving recreant to the cause 
 he had vindicated so bravely, appears to have entered his mind 
 when the charges preferred against him by the council of Penn- 
 sylvania were referred by Congress to a court-martial. Eefore 
 that time he had been incensed against Pennsylvania ; but now 
 his wrath was excited against his country, which appeared so 
 insensible to his services. Disappointment in regard to the settle- 
 ment of his accounts, added to his irritation, had mingled sordid 
 motives with his resentment ; and he began to think how, while he 
 wreaked his vengeance on his country, he might do it with advan- 
 tage to his fortunes. With this veiw he commenced a correspon- 
 dence with Sir Henry Clinton in a disguised handwriting, and, 
 under the signature of Gustavtis, represented himself as a person 
 of importance in the American service, who, being dissatisfied with 
 the late proceedings of Congress, particularly the alliance with 
 France, was desirous of joining the cause of Great Britain, could 
 he be certain of personal security, and indemnification for what- 
 ever loss of property he might sustain. His letters occasionally 
 communicated articles of intelligence of some moment which 
 proved to be true, and induced Sir Henry- to keep up the corres- 
 
444 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 pondence ; which was conducted on his part by his aide-de-camp, 
 Major John Andre, hkewise in a disguised hand, and under the 
 signature of John Anderson. Months elapsed before Sir Henry- 
 discovered who was his secret correspondent. Even after discov- 
 ering it he did not see fit to hold out any very strong inducements 
 to Arnold for desertion. The latter was out of command, and had 
 nothing to offer but his services ; which in his actual situation were 
 scarcely worth buying. In the mean time the circumstances of 
 Arnold were daily becoming more desperate. Debts were accu- 
 mulating, and creditors becoming more and more importunate, as 
 his means to satisfy them decreased. The public reprimand he 
 had received was rankling in his mind, and filling his heart with 
 bitterness. Still tie hisitated on the brink of absolute infamy, and 
 attempted a half-way leap. Such was his proposition to M. de 
 Luzerne to make himself subservient to the policy of the French 
 government, on condition of receivmg a loan equal to the amount 
 of his debts. This he might have reconciled to his conscience by 
 the idea that France was an ally, and its policy likely to be 
 friendly. It was his last card before resorting to utter treachery. 
 Failing in it, he sought and obtained command of West Point, the 
 great object of British and American sohcitude, on the possession 
 cf which were supposed by many to hinge the fortunes of the war. 
 He took command of the post and its dependencies about the 
 beginning of August, fixing his head-quarters at Beverley, a coun- 
 try-seat a little below West Point, on the opposite or eastern side 
 of the river. It stood in a lonely part of the Highlands high up 
 from the river, yet at the foot of a mountain covered with woods. 
 It was commonly called the Robinson House, having formerly 
 belonged to Washington's early friend Col. Beverley Robinson, a 
 royalist who had entered into the British service, and was now resid- 
 ing in New York, and Beverley with its surrounding lands had 
 been confiscated. From this place Arnold carried on a secret 
 correspondence with Major Andre. Their letters, still in disguised 
 hands, and under the names of Gustavus and John Anderson, 
 purported to treat merely of commercial operations, but the real 
 matter in negotiation was the betrayal of West Point and the 
 Highlands to Sir Henry Chnton. This stupendous piece of treach- 
 ery was to be consummated at the time when Washington, with 
 the main body of his army, would be drawn towards King's Bridge, 
 and the French troops landed on Long Island in the projected 
 reoperation against New York. At such time, a flotilla under 
 Rcdney, having on board a large land force, was to ascend the 
 Hudson to the Highlands, which would be surrendered by Arnold 
 ahnost without opposition, under pretext of insufficient force to 
 make resistance. The immediate result of this surrender, it was 
 anticipated, would be the defeat of the combined attempt upon 
 New York ; and its ultimate effect might be the dismemberment 
 of the Union and the dislocation of the whole American scheme of 
 warfare. The part which Major Andre took in this dark transac- 
 tion, and the degree of romantic interest subsequently thrown 
 around liis memory, call for a more specific notice of him. He was 
 
1780.] ANDRE'S ANTECEDENTS, 445 
 
 born in London, 175 1, but his parents were of Geneva in Switzer- 
 land, where he was educated. Being intended for mercantile life, 
 he entered a London counting-house, but had scarce attained his 
 eighteenth year when he formed a romantic attachment to a beauti- 
 ful girl, Miss HonoraSneyd, by whom his passion was returned, and 
 they became engaged. This sadly unfitted him for the sober routine 
 of the counting-house. "All my mercantile calculations," writes 
 he in one of his boyish letters, "go to the tune of dear Honora." 
 The father of the young lady interfered, and the premature match 
 was broken off. Andre abandoned the counting-house and entered 
 the army. His first commission was dated March 4, 1771 ; but he 
 subsequently visited Germany, and returned to England in 1773, 
 still haunted by his early passion. His lady love, in the mean 
 time, had been wooed by other admirers, and in the present year 
 . became the second wife of Richard Lovel Edgeworth, a young 
 widower of twenty-six, and father of the celebrated Maria Edge- 
 worth. Andre came to America in 1774, as Heutenant of the Royal 
 English Fusileers ; and was among the officers captured at Saint 
 Johns, early in the war, by Montgomery. He still bore about 
 him a memento of his boyish passion, the " dear talisman," as he' 
 called it, a miniature of Miss Sneyd painted by himself in 1769. 
 His temper, however, appears to have been naturally light and 
 festive; and if he still cherished this "tender remembrance," it 
 was but as one of those documents of early poetry and romance, 
 which serve to keep the heart warm and tender among the gay 
 and cold realities of life. His varied and graceful talents, and his 
 engaging manners, rendered him generally popular ; while his 
 devoted and somewhat subservient loyalty recommended him to 
 the favor of his commander, and obtained him the appointment of 
 adjutant-general with the rank of major. He was a prime promo- 
 ter of elegant amusement in camp and garrison. He was one of 
 the principal devisers of the " Mischianza" in Philadelphia, in 
 which semi-effeminate pageant he.had figured as one of the knights 
 champions of beauty ; Miss Shippen, afterwards Mrs. Arnold, 
 being the lady whose peerless charms he undertook to vindicate. 
 In the present instance he had engaged, nothing loth, in a service 
 of intrigue and manoeuvre, which, however sanctioned by military 
 usage, should hardly have invited the zeal of a high-minded man. 
 He availed himself of his former intimacy with Mrs. Arnold, to make 
 her an unconscious means of facilitating a correspondence with 
 her husband. Some have inculpated her in the guilt of the trans- 
 action, but we think, unjustly. It has been alleged that a corres- 
 pondence had been going on between her and Andre previous to 
 her marriage, and was kept up after it ; but as far as we can learn, 
 only one letter passed between them, written by Andre on August 
 l6th, 1779, in which he solicits her remembrance, assures her that 
 respect for her and the fair circle in which he had become acquain- 
 ted with her, remains unimpaired by distance or political broils, 
 reminds her that the Mischianza had made him a complete milliner, 
 and offers his services to furnish her with supplies in that department. 
 The apparent object of this letter was to open a convenient medium 
 
446 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of communication, which Arnold might use without exciting her 
 suspicion. Various circumstances connected with this nefarious 
 negotiation, argue lightness of mind and something of debasing 
 alloy on the part of Andre. The correspondence carried on for 
 months in the jargon of traffic, savored less of the camp than the 
 counting-house ; the protracted tampering with a brave but neces- 
 sitous man for the sacrifice of his fame and the betrayal of his 
 trust, strikes us as being beneath the range of a truly chivalrous 
 nature. Correspondence had now done its part in the business ; 
 for the completion of the plan and the adjustment of the traitor's 
 recompense, a personal meeting was necessary between Arnold 
 and Andre. The former proposed it should take place at his own 
 quarters at the Robinson House, where Andre should come in dis- 
 guise, as a bearer of intelligence, and under the feigned name of 
 John Anderson. Andre positively objected to entering the Ameri- 
 can lines; it was arranged, therefore, that the meeting should take 
 place on neutral ground, near the American out-post, at Dobbs 
 Ferry, on the nth of September, at 12 o'clock. Andre attended 
 at the appointed place and time, accompanied by Col. Robinson, 
 who was acquainted with the plot. Arnold had passed the preced- 
 ing night at what was called the White House, the residence of 
 Mr. Joshua Hett Smith, situated on the west side of the Hudson, 
 in Haverstraw Bay, about two miles below Stony Point. He set 
 off thence in his barge for the place of rendezvous ; but, not being 
 protected by a flag, was fired upon and pursued by the British 
 guard-boats, stationed near Dobbs Ferry. He took refuge at an 
 American post on the western shore, whence he returned in the 
 night to his quarters in the Robinson House. New arrangements 
 were made for an interview, but it was postponed until after 
 Washington should depart for Hartford, to hold the proposed 
 conference with Count Rochambeau and the other French officers. 
 In the meantime, the British sloop of war, Vulture, anchored a 
 few miles below Teller's Point, to be at hand in aid of the nego- 
 tiation. On board was Col. Robinson, who, pretending to believe 
 that Gen. Putnam still commanded in the Highlands addressed a 
 note to him requesting an interview on the subject of his confisca- 
 ted property. This letter he sent by flag, enclosed in one addressed 
 to Arnold; soliciting of him the same boon should Gen. Putnam 
 be absent. On the i8th Sept., Washington with his suite crossed 
 the Hudson to Verplanck's Point, in Arnold's barge, on his way 
 to Hartford. Arnold accompanied him as far as Peekskill, and 
 on the way, laid before him with affected frankness, the letter of 
 Col. Robinson, and asked his advice. Washington disapproved 
 of any such interview, observing, that the civil authorities alone 
 had cognizance of these questions of confiscated property. Arnold 
 now openly sent a flag on board of the Vulture, informing Col. 
 Robinson, that a person with a boat and flag would be alongside 
 of the Vulture, on the night of the 20th ; and diat any matter he 
 might wish to communicate, would be laid before Gen. Washing- 
 ton on the following Saturday, when he might be expected back 
 from Newport. On the faith of the information thus covertly con* 
 
i/So.] THE CONSPIRATORS MEET. 447 
 
 veyed, Andre proceeded up the Hudson on the 20th ; and went on 
 board of the Vulture, where he expected to meet Arnold. The 
 latter, however, had made other arrangements, probably with a 
 view to his personal security. About half-past eleven, of a still 
 and starlight night (the 21st), a boat was descried from on board, 
 gliding silently along, rowed by two men with muffled oars. A 
 man, seated in the stern, gave out that they were from King's Ferry, 
 bound to Dobbs Ferry. He proved to be Mr, Joshua Hett Smith, 
 whom Arnold had prevailed upon to go on board of the Vulture, 
 and bring a person on shore who was coming from New York 
 with important intelligence. He had given him passes to protect 
 him and those with him, in case he should be stopped, either in 
 going or returning, by an American water guard, which patrolled 
 the river in whale-boats. He made him the bearer of a letter 
 addressed to Col. Robinson, which was to the following purport : 
 "This will be delivered to you by Mr. Smith, who will conduct 
 you to a place of safety. Neither Mr. Smith nor any other person 
 shall be made acquainted with your proposals ; if they (which I 
 doubt not) are of such a nature, that I can officially take notice 
 of them, I shall do it with pleasure. I take it for granted Col. 
 Robinson will not propose anything, that is not for the interest of 
 the United States as well as of himself." Robinson introduced 
 Andre to Smith by the name of John Anderson, who was to go on 
 shore in his place (he being unwell), to have an interview with 
 Gen. Arnold. Andre wore a blue great coat which covered his 
 uniform, and Smith always declared that at the time he was totally 
 ignorant of his name and military character. Andre was zealous 
 in executing his mission, and, embarking in the boat with Smith, 
 was silently rowed to the western side of the river, about six miles 
 below Stony Point. Here they landed a little after midnight, at 
 the foot of a shadowy mountain called the Long Clove ; a solitary 
 place, the haunt of the owl and the whippoorwill, and well fitted 
 for a treasonable conference. Arnold was in waiting, but stand- 
 ing aloof among thickets. He had come hither on horseback from 
 Smith's house, about three or four miles distant, attended by one 
 of Smith's servants, likewise mounted. The midnight negotiation 
 between Andre and Arnold was carried on in darkness among the 
 trees. Smith remained in the boat, and the servant drew off to a 
 distance with the horses. One hour after another passed away, 
 when Smith approached the place of conference, and gave warn- 
 ing that it was near daybreak, and if they lingered much longer 
 the boat would be discovered. The nefarious bargain was not yet 
 completed, and Arnold feared the sight of a boat going to the Vul- 
 ture might cause suspicion. He prevailed therefore upon Andre 
 to remain on shore until the following night. The boat was accord- 
 ingly sent to a creek higher up the river, and Andre, mounting 
 the servant's horse, set off with Arnold for Smith's house. The 
 road passed through the village of Haverstraw. As they rode 
 along in the dark, the voice of a sentinel demanding the counter- 
 sign startled Andre with the fearful conviction that he was within 
 the American Unes, but it was too late to recede. It was day- 
 
448 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 break when they arrived at Smith's house. They had scarcely 
 entered when the booming of cannon was heard from down the 
 river. It gave Andre uneasiness, and with reason. Col. Living- 
 ston, who commanded above at Verplanck's Point, learning 
 that the Vulture lay within shot of Teller's Point, which divides 
 Haverstraw Bay from the Tappan Sea, had sent a party with can- 
 non to that point in the night, and they were now firing upon the 
 sloop of war. Andre watched the cannonade with an anxious eye 
 from an upper window of Smith's house. At one time he thought 
 the Vulture was on fire. He was relieved from painful solicitude 
 when he saw the vessel weigh anchor, and drop down the river 
 out of reach of cannon shot. After breakfast, the plot for the 
 betrayal of West Point and its dependent posts was adjusted, and 
 the sum agreed upon that Arnold was to receive, should it be suc- 
 cessful. Andre was furnished with plans of the works, and explan- 
 atory papers, which, at Arnold's request, he placed between his 
 stockings and his feet ; promising, in case of accident, to destroy 
 them. Arnold prepared to return in his own barge to his head- 
 quarters at the Robinson Plouse. As the Vulture had shifted her 
 ground, he suggested to Andre a return to New York by land, as 
 most safe and expeditious ; the latter, however, insisted upon being 
 put on board of the sloop of war, on the ensuing night. Arnold 
 consented ; but, before his departure, to provide against the possi- 
 ble necessity of a return by land, he gave Andre the following 
 PASS, dated from the Robinson House : 
 
 " Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass the guards to the White 
 Plains, or below, if he chooses : he being on public business by 
 my direction. 
 
 B. Arnold, M. Gen'l." 
 
 Arnold departed about ten o'clock. Andre passed a lonely day, 
 casting many a wistful look toward the Vulture. Once on board 
 of that ship he would be safe ; he would have fulfilled his mission ; 
 the capture of West Point would be certain, and his triumph would 
 be complete. As evening approached he grew impatient, and 
 spoke to Smith about departure. To his surprise, he found the 
 latter had made no preparation for it ; he had discharged his boat- 
 man, who had gone home : in short, he refused to take him on 
 board of the Vulture. The cannonade of the morning had proba- 
 bly made him fear for his personal safety, should he attempt to go 
 on board, the Vulture having resumed her exposed position. He 
 offered, however, to cross the river with Andre at King's Ferry, 
 put him in the way of returning to New York by land, and accom- 
 panying him some distance on horseback. Andre was in an agony 
 at finding himself, notwithstanding all his stipulations, forced 
 within the American lines; but there seemed to be no alternative, 
 and he prepared for the hazardous journey. He wore, as we have 
 noted, a military coat under a long blue surtout ; he was now per- 
 suaded to lay it aside, and put on a citizen's coat of Smith's; thus 
 adding disguise to the other humihtating and hazardous circum- 
 
1780.] ANDRE CAPTURED. 449 
 
 stances of the case. It was about sunset when Andre and Smith, 
 attended by a negro servant of the latter, crossed from King's 
 Ferry to Verplanck's Point. After proceeding about eight miles 
 on the road towards White Plains, they were stopped between eight 
 and nine o'clock, near Crompond, by a patrolling party. The 
 captain of it was uncommonly inquisitive and suspicious. The 
 passports with Arnold's signature satisfied him. He warned them, 
 however, against the danger of proceeding further in the night. 
 Cow Boys from the British lines were scouring the country, and 
 had recently marauded the neighborhood. Smith's fears were 
 again excited, and Andre was obliged to yield to them. A bed 
 was furnished them in a neighboring house, where Andre passed 
 an anxious and restless night, under the very eye, as it were, of an 
 American patrol. At daybreak he hurried their departure, and 
 his mind was lightened of a load of care, when he found himself 
 out of the the reach of the patrol and its inquisitive commander. 
 They were now approaching that noted part of the country, here- 
 tofore mentioned as the Neutral Ground, extending north and south 
 about thirty miles, between the British and American lines. A 
 beautiful region of forest-clad hills, fertile valleys, and abundant 
 streams, but now almost desolated by the scourings of Skinners 
 and Cow Boys ; the former professing allegiance to the American 
 cause, the latter to the British, but both arrant marauders. One 
 who resided at the time in this region, gives a sad picture of its 
 state. Houses plundered and dismantled ; inclosures broken 
 down ; cattle carried away ; fields lying waste ; the roads grass- 
 grown ; the country mournful, solitary, silent — reminding one of 
 the desolation presented in the song of Deborah. " In the days 
 of Shamgar the son of Anath, in the days of Jael, the highways 
 were unoccupied, and the travellerswalked in by-paths. The inhab- 
 itants of the villages ceased ; they ceased in Israel." About two 
 and a half miles from Pine's Bridge, on the Croton River, Andre 
 and his companion partook of a scanty meal at a farm-house 
 which had recently been harried by the Cow Boys. Here they 
 parted. Smith returned home, Andre to pursue his journey alone 
 to New York. His spirits, however, were cheerful ; for, having 
 got beyond the patrols, he considered the most perilous part of 
 his route accomplished. About six miles beyond Pine's Bridge he 
 came to a place where the road forked, the left branch leading 
 towards White Plains in the interior of the country, the right 
 inclining towards the Hudson. He turned down it, and took his 
 course along the river road. He had not proceeded far, when 
 coming to a place where a small stream crossed the road and ran 
 into a woody dell, a man stepped out from the trees, levelled a 
 musket and brought him to a stand, while two other men similarly 
 armed, showed themselves prepared to second their comrade. The 
 man who had first stepped out wore a refugee uniform. At sight 
 of it, Andre's heart leaped, and he felt himself secure. Losing all 
 caution, he exclaimed eagerly ; " Gentlemen, I hope you belong 
 to our party ? " — " What party ? " was asked. — " The lower party," 
 said Andre. — "We do,' * was the reply. All reserve was now at an end. 
 
450 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Andr6 declared himself to be a British officer ; that he had been 
 up the country on particular business, and must not be detained a 
 single moment. He drew out his watch as he spoke. It was a 
 gold one, and served to prove to them that he was what he repre- 
 sented himself, gold watches being seldom worn in those days, 
 excepting by persons of consequence. To his consternation, the 
 supposed refugee now avowed himself and his companions to be 
 Americans, and told Andre he was their prisoner! It was even 
 so. The sacking and burning of Young's House, and the carry- 
 ing of its rustic defenders into captivity, had roused the spirit of 
 the Neutral ground. The yeomanry of that harassed country 
 had turned out in parties to intercept freebooters from the British 
 lines, who had recently been on the maraud, and might be return- 
 ing to the city with their spoils. One of these parties, composed 
 of seven men of the neighborhood, had divided itself. Four took 
 post on a hill above Sleepy Hollow, to watch the road which 
 crossed the country ; the other three, john paulding, isaac van 
 "WART, and DAVID WILLIAMS by name, stationed themselves on 
 the road which runs parallel to the Hudson. Two of them were 
 seated on the grass playing at cards to pass away the time, while 
 one mounted guard. The one in refugee garb who brought Andre 
 to a stand, was john paulding, a stout-hearted youngster, who, 
 like most of the young men of this outraged neighborhood, had 
 been repeatedly in arms to repel or resent aggressions, and now 
 belonged to the militia. He had twice been captured and confined 
 in the loathsome military prisons, where patriots suffered in New 
 York, first in the North Dutch Church, and last in the noted Sugar 
 House. Both times he had made his escape ; the last time, only 
 four days previous to the event of which we are treating. The 
 ragged refugee coat, which had deceived Andre, and been the 
 cause of his betraying himself, had been given to Paulding by 
 one of his captors, in exchange for a good yeoman garment of 
 which they stripped him. This slight circumstance may have pro- 
 duced the Avhole discovery of the treason. (Commodore Hiram Paul- 
 ding, a son of the captor heard this repeatedly from the lips of his 
 father.) Andre had betrayed himself by his heedless avowal. 
 Promptly, however, recovering his self-possession, he endeavored 
 to pass off his previous account of himself as a mere subterfuge. 
 "A man must do anything," said he laughingly, " to get along." 
 He now declared himself to be a Continental officer, going down 
 to Dobbs Ferry to get information from below ; so saying, he drew 
 forth and showed them the pass of Gen. Arnold. This, in the 
 first instance, would have been sufficient ; but his unwary tongue 
 had ruined him. The suspicions of his captors were completely 
 roused. Seizing the bridle of his horse, they ordered him to dis- 
 mount. He warned them that he was on urgent business for the 
 general, and that they would get themselves into trouble should 
 they detain him. "We care not for that," was the reply, as they 
 led him among the thickets, on the border of the brook. Paulding 
 asked whether he had any letters about him. He answered, no. 
 They proceeded to search him. A minute description is given of 
 
1780.] ANDRE CANNOT BRIBE HIS CAPTORS. 451 
 
 his dress. He wore a round hat, a blue surtout, a crimson close- 
 bodied coat, somewhat faded : the button-holes worked with gold, 
 and the buttons covered with gold lace, a nankeen vest, and 
 small-clothes and boots. They obliged him to take off his coat 
 and vest, and found on him eighty dollars in Continental money, 
 but nothing to warrant suspicion of anything sinister, and were 
 disposed to let him proceed, when Paulding exclaimed ; " Boys, I 
 am not satisfied*— his boots must come off." At this Andre changed 
 color. His boots, he said, came off with difficulty, and he beg- 
 ged he might not be subjected to the inconvenience and delay. 
 His remonstrances were in vain. He was obliged to sit down ; 
 his boots were drawn off, and the concealed papers discovered. 
 Hastily scanning them, Paulding exclaimed, " My God ! He is a 
 spy ! " He demanded of Andre where he had gotten these papers. 
 "Of a man at Pine's Bridge, a stranger to me," was the reply. 
 While dressing himself, Andre endeavored to ransom himself from 
 his captors ; rising from one offer to another. He would give any 
 sum of money if they would let him go. He would give his horse, 
 saddle, bridle, and one hundred guineas, and would send thera to 
 any place that might be fixed upon. Williams asked him if he 
 Would not give more. He replied, that he would give any reward 
 they might name either in goods or money, and would remain with 
 two of their party while one went to New York to get it. Here 
 Paulding, says David Williams, broke in and declared with an 
 oath, that if he would give ten thousand guineas, he should not 
 stir one step. The unfortunate Andre now submitted to his fate, 
 and the captors set off with their prisoner for North Castle, the 
 nearest American post, distant ten or twelve miles. They pro- 
 ceeded across a hilly and woody region, part of the way by the 
 road, part across fields. One strode in front, occasionally holding 
 the horse by the bridle, the others walked on either side. Andre 
 rode on in silence, dechning to answer further questions until he 
 should come before a military officer. About noon, they halted at 
 a farm house where the inhabitants were taking their mid-day repast. 
 The worthy house-wife, moved by Andre's prepossessing appear- 
 ance and dejected air, kindly invited him to partake. He declined, 
 alleging that he had no appetite. This was related to us by a 
 Venerable matron, who was present on the occasion, a young girl 
 at the time, but who in her old days could not recall the scene and 
 the appearance of Andre without tears. Lieut. -Col. Jameson, who 
 was in command at North Castle, recognized the handwriting of 
 Arnold in the papers found upon Andre, and, perceiving that they 
 were of a dangerous nature, sent them off by express to General 
 Washington, at Hartford. Andre, still adhering to his assumed 
 name, begged that the commander at West Point might be informed 
 that John Anderson., though bearing his passport, was detained. 
 Jameson appears completely to have lost his head on the occasion. 
 He wrote to Arnold, stating the circumstances of the arrest, and 
 that the papers found upon the prisoner had been despatched by 
 express to the commander-in-chief, and at the same time, he sent 
 the prisoner himself, under a strong guard, to accompany the lat- 
 
452 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ter. Shortly afterwards, Major Tallmadge» next in command to 
 Jameson, but of a much clearer head, arrived at North Castle, 
 having been absent on duty to White Plains. He at once sus- 
 pected treachery on the part of Arnold. At his earnest entreaties, 
 an express was sent after the officer who had Andre in charge, 
 ordering him to bring the latter back to North Castle ; but by 
 singular perversity or obtuseness in judgment, Jameson neglected 
 to countermand the letter which he had written to Arnold. When 
 Andre was brought back, and was pacing up and down the room, 
 Tallmadge saw at once by his air and movements, and the mode 
 of turning on his heel, that he was a military man. By his advice, 
 and under his escort, the prisoner was conducted to Col. Sheldon's 
 post at Lower Salem, as more secure than North Castle. Here 
 Andre, being told that the papers found upon his person had been 
 forwarded to Washington, addressed to him immediately the fol- 
 lowing lines : "I beg your Excellency will be persuaded that no 
 alteration in the temper of my mind or apprehensions for my 
 safety, induces me to take the step of addressing you ; but that it 
 is to secure myself from the imputation of having assumed a mean 
 character for treacherous purposes or self-interest. It is to vindi- 
 cate my fame that I speak, and not to solicit security. The per- 
 son in your possession is Major John Andre, adjutant-general of 
 the British army. The influence of one commander in the army 
 of his adversary is an advantage taken in war. A conespondence 
 for this purpose I held ; as confidential (in the present instance) 
 with his Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton. To favor it, 1 agreed to 
 meet upon ground not witliin the posts of either army, a person 
 who was to give me inteUigence. I came up in the Vulture man- 
 of-war for this effect, and was fetched from the shore to the beach. 
 Being there, I was told that the approach of day would prevent 
 my return, and that i must be concealed until the next night. I 
 was in my regimentals, and had fairly risked my person. Against 
 my stipulation, my intention, and without my knowledge before- 
 hand, I was conducted within one of your posts. Thus was I 
 betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy within your posts. 
 Having avowed myself a British officer, 1 have nothing to reveal 
 but what relates to myself, which is true, on the honor of an officer 
 and a gentleman. The request I have made to your Excellency, 
 and I am conscious that 1 address myself well, is, that in any rigor 
 policy may dictate, a decency of conduct towards me may mark, 
 ihat though unfortunate, I am branded with nothing dishonorable ; 
 as no motive could be mine, but the service of my king, and as I 
 •was involuntarily an impostor." This letter he submitted to the 
 perusal of Major Tallmadge, who was surprised and agitated at 
 finding the rank and importance of the prisoner he had in charge. 
 The letter being despatched, and Andre's pride relieved on a sen* 
 sitive point, he resumed his serenity, apparently unconscious of 
 the awful responsibility of his situation. Having a talent for cari- 
 cature, he even amused himself in the course of the day by making 
 a ludicrous sketch of himself and his rustic escort under march, 
 and presenting it to an officer in the room with him. " This," said 
 
1780.] HE PAPERS SENT TO WASHINGTON. 453 
 
 be gayly, " will give you an idea of the style in which I have had 
 the honor to be conducted to my present abode." 
 
 On the veiy day that the treasonable conference between Arnold 
 and Andre took place, on the banks of Haverstraw Bay, Wash- 
 ington had his interview with the French officers at Hartford. 
 InteUigence was received that the squadron of the Count de Gui- 
 chen, on which they had relied to give them superiority by sea, 
 had sailed for Europe. Washington, in consequence, set out two 
 or three days sooner than had been anticipated on his return to 
 his headquarters on the Hudson. He was accompanied by 
 Lafayette and Gen. Knox with their suites; also, part of the way, 
 by Count Matthew Dumas, aide-de-camp to Rochambeau. The 
 count, who regarded Washington with an enthusiasm which 
 appears to have been felt by many of the young French officers, 
 gives an anin>ated picture of the manner in which he was greeted 
 in one of the towns through which they passed. "We arrived 
 there," says he, "at night; the whole population had sallied forth 
 beyond the suburbs. We were surrounded by a crowd of chil- 
 dren carrying torches, and reiterating the acclamations of the citi- 
 zens; all were eager to touch the person of him whom they hailed 
 with loud cries as their father, and they thronged before us so as 
 almost to prevent our moving onward. General Washington, much 
 affected, paused a few moments, and pressing my hand, 'W^e may 
 be beaten by the English,* said he, 'it is the chance of war; but 
 there is the army they will never conquer! ' " These few words 
 speak that noble confidence in the enduring patriotism of his coun- 
 trymen, which sustained him throughout all the fluctuating for- 
 tunes of the Revolution ; yet at this very moment it was about to 
 receive one of the cruellest of wounds. Washington took a more 
 circuitous route than the one he had originally intended, striking 
 the river at Fishkill just above the Highlands, that he might visit 
 W^est Point, and show the marquis the works which had been 
 erected there during his absence in France. In the morning 
 (Sept. 24th) they were in the saddle before break of day, having 
 a ride to make of eighteen miles through the mountains. It was 
 a pleasant and animated one. Washington was in excellent spir- 
 its, and the buoyant marquis, and genial, warm-hearted Knox, 
 were companions with whom he was always disposed to unbend. 
 When within a mile of the Robinson House, Washington turned 
 down a cross road leading to the banks of the Hudson. Lafayette 
 apprised him that he was going out of the way, and hinted that 
 Mrs. Arnold must be waiting breakfast for him. "Ah, marquis ! " 
 replied he good-humoredly, "you young men are all in love with 
 Mrs. Arnold, I see you are eager to be with her as soon as possi- 
 ble. Go you and breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait for 
 me. I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of 
 the river, but will be with her shortly." The marquis and Gen. 
 Knox, however, turned off and accompanied him down to the 
 redoubts, while Col. Hamilton and Lafayette's aide-de-camp. Major 
 James McHenry, continued along the main road to the Robinson 
 House. The family with the two aides-de-camp sat down to break- 
 
454 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 fast. Mrs. Arnold had arrived but four or five days previously 
 from Philadelphia, Avith her infant child, then about six months 
 old. She was bright and amiable as usual. Arnold was silent 
 and gloomy. It was an anxious moment with him. This was the 
 day appointed for the consummation of the plot, when the enemy's 
 ships were to ascend the river. The return of the commander-in- 
 chief from the East two days sooner than had been anticipated, 
 and his proposed visit to the forts, threatened to disconcert every- 
 thing. What might be the consequence Arnold could not conjec- 
 ture. An interval of fearful imaginings was soon brought to a 
 direful close. In the midst of the repast a horseman alighted at 
 the gate. It was the messenger bearing Jameson's letter to 
 Arnold, stating the capture of Andre, and that dangerous papers 
 found on him had been forwarded to Washington. The mine had 
 exploded beneath Arnold's feet; yet in this awful moment he gave 
 evidence of that quickness of mind which had won laurels for 
 him when in the path of duty. Controlling the dismay that must 
 have smitten him to the heart, he beckoned Mrs. Arnold from the 
 breakfast table, signifying a wish to speak with her in private. 
 When alone with her in her room up stairs, he announced in hur- 
 ried words that he was a ruined man, and must instantly fly for his 
 life ! Overcome by the shock, she fell senseless on the floor. 
 Without pausing to aid her, he hurried down stairs, returned to 
 the breakfast room, and informed his guests that he must haste to 
 West Point to prepare for the reception of the commander-in-chief; 
 and mounting the horse of the messenger, which stood saddled at 
 the door, galloped down by what is still called Arnold's Path, to the 
 landing-place, where his six-oared barge was moored. Throwing 
 himself into it, he ordered his men to pull out into the middle of 
 the river, and then made down Avith all speed for Teller's Point, 
 which divides Haverstraw Bay from the Tappan Sea, saying he 
 must be back soon to meet the commander-in-chief. Washington 
 arrived at the Robinson House shortly after the flight of the 
 traitor. Being informed that Mrs. Arnold was in her room, 
 unwell, and that Arnold had gone to West Point to receive him, 
 he took a hasty breakfast, and repaired to the fortress, leaving 
 word that he and his suite would return to dinner. In crossing 
 the river, he noticed that no salute was fired from the fort, nor 
 was there any preparation to receive him on his landing. Col. 
 Lamb, the officer in command, who came down to the shore, 
 manifested surprise at seeing him, and apologized for this want of- 
 military ceremony, by assuring him that he had not been apprised 
 of his intended visit. "Is not Gen. Arnold here?" demanded 
 Washington. "No, sir. He has not been here for two days past; 
 nor have I heard from him in that time." This was strange and 
 perplexing, but no sinister suspicion entered Washington's mind. 
 He remained at the Point throughout the morning inspecting the 
 fortifications. In the meantime, the messenger whom Jameson had 
 despatched to Hartford Avith a letter covering the papers taken on 
 Andre, arrived at the Robinson House. Coming by the lower 
 road, the messenger had passed through Salem, where Andre was 
 
f 
 
 1780.] THE TRAITOR ESCAPES, 455 
 
 confined, and brought with him the letter written by that unfortu- 
 nate officer to the commander-in-chief. These letters being rep- 
 resented as of the utmost moment, were opened and read by Col. 
 Hamilton, as Washington's aide-de-camp and confidential officer. 
 He maintained silence as to their contents; met Washington, as he 
 and his companions were coming up from the river, on their 
 return from West Point, spoke to him a few words in a low voice, 
 and they retired together into the house. Whatever agitation. 
 Washington may have felt when these documents of deep-laid 
 treachery were put before him, he wore his usual air of equa- 
 nimity when he rejoined his companions. Taking Knox and 
 Lafayette aside, he communicated to them the intelligence, and 
 placed the papers in their hands. "Whom can we trust now?" 
 was his only comment, but it spoke volumes. His first idea was 
 to arrest the traitor. Conjecturing the direction of his flight, he 
 despatched Col. Hamilton on horseback to spur with all speed to 
 Verplanck's Point, which commands the narrow part of the Hud- 
 son, just below the Highlands, with orders to the commander to 
 intercept Arnold should he not already have passed that post. 
 This done, when dinner was announced, he invited the company 
 to table. "Come, gentlemen; since Mrs. Arnold is unwell, and 
 the general is absent, let us sit down without ceremony." In the 
 meantime, Arnold, panic-stricken, had sped his caitiff flight through 
 the Highlands; infamy howhng in his rear; anest threatening him 
 in the advance; a fugitive past the posts which he had recently 
 commanded; shrinking at the sight of that flag which hitherto it 
 had been his glory to defend ! Alas ! how changed from the 
 Arnold, who, but two years previously, when repulsed, wounded 
 and crippled, before the walls of Quebec, could yet write proudly 
 from a shattered camp, " I am in the way of my duty, and I know 
 no fear!" He had passed through the Highlands in safety, but 
 there were the batteries at Verplanck's Point yet to fear. His 
 barge was known by the garrison. A white handkerchief dis- 
 played gave it the sanction of a flag of truce; it was suffered to pass 
 without question, and the traitor effected his escape to the Vulture 
 sloop-of-war anchored a few miles below. As if to consummate 
 his degradation by a despicable act of treachery and meanness, he 
 gave up to the commander his coxswain and six bargemen as 
 prisoners of war; but when it was found that the men had sup- 
 posed they were acting under the protection of a flag, they were 
 released by order of Sir Henry Clinton. Col. Hamilton returned 
 to the Robinson House and reported the escape of the traitor. 
 He brought a letter to Washington, which had been sent on shore 
 from the Vulture, under a flag of truce. It was from Arnold. 
 The following is a transcript : 
 
 "Sir.— The heart which is conscious of Its own rectitude, cannot attempt to 
 palliate a step whicli the world may censure as wrong ; I have ever acted from 
 a principle of love to my country since the commencement of the present un« 
 happy contest between Great Britain and the colonies; the same principle of 
 love to my country actuates my present conduct, however it may appear 
 inconsistent to the world, who seldom lu^pe right of anv man's actions. I 
 ask no favor for myself. 1 have too often ex])erlenced the ingiatitude of my 
 
456 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 country to attempt it; but, from the known humanity of your Excellency, I 
 am inuucecl to aslc your protection for Mrs. Arnold from every insult and 
 injury that a mistaken vengeance of my country may expose her to. It ought 
 to fall only on me; she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and is inca- 
 pable of doing wrong. I beg she may be permitted to return to her friends in 
 rhiladelpliia, or to come to jne as slie may choose; from your Excellency I 
 have no fears on her account, but she may suffer from the mistaken fury of the 
 country." 
 
 Notwithstanding Washington's apparent tranquility and real 
 self-possession, it was a time of appalling distrust. How far the 
 treason had extended; who else might be implicated in it, was 
 unknown. Arnold knew everything about the condition of the 
 posts : might he not persuade the enemy, in the present weak state 
 of the garrisons, to attempt a coup de main ? Washington 
 instantly, therefore, despatched a letter to Col. Wade, who was in 
 temporary command at West Point, "Gen. Arnold is gone to the 
 enemy," writes he. "I request that you will be as vigilant as 
 possible, and as the enemy may have it in contemplation to attempt 
 some enterprise even io-night, against these posts, 1 wish you to 
 make immediately after the receipt of this, the best disposition you 
 can of your force, so as to have a proportion of men in each work 
 on the west side of the river." A regiment stationed in the High- 
 lands was ordered to the same duty, as well as a body of the Massa- 
 chusetts militia from Fishkill. At half-past seven in the evening, 
 Washington wrote to Gen. Greene, who, in his absence, com- 
 manded the army at Tappan, — urging him to put the left division 
 in motion as soon as possible, with orders to proceed to King's 
 Ferry. "The division," writes he, "will come on light, leaving 
 their heavy baggage to follow. You will also hold all troops in 
 readiness to move on the shortest notice," His next thought was 
 about Andre. The intrigues in which he had been engaged, and 
 the errand on which he had come, made him consider him an art- 
 ful and resolute person. He had possessed himself of dangerous 
 information, and in a manner had been arrested with the key of 
 the citadel in his pocket. On the same evening, therefore, Wash- 
 ington wrote to Col. Jameson, charging that every precaution 
 should be taken to prevent Major Andre from making his escape. 
 " He will no doubt effect it, if possible; and in order that he may 
 not have it in his power, you w ill send him under the care of such 
 a party and so many officers as to preclude him from the least 
 opportunity of doing it. That he may be less liable to be recap- 
 tured by the enemy, he had better be conducted to this place by 
 some upper road, rather than by the route of Crompond. I 
 would not wish Mr. Andre to be treated with insult; but he does 
 not appear to stand upon the footing of a common prisoner of. 
 war, and therefore he is to be most closely and narrowly watched. * 
 In the meantime, Mrs. Arnold remained in her room in a state 
 bordering on frenzy. Arnold might well confide in the humanity and 
 delicacy of Washington in respect to her. He regarded her with the 
 sincerest commisseration, acquitting her of all previous knowledge 
 of her husband's guilt. On remitting to her, by one of his aides-de- 
 camp, the letter of her husband, written on board of the Vulture, 
 he informe4 her that he had done all that depended upon himself 
 
i78o.] ANDRE RECOUNTS HIS SCHEME. 457 
 
 to have him arrested, but not having succeeded, he experienced a 
 pleasure in assuring her of his safety. A letter of Hamilton's writ- 
 ten at the time, with all the sympathies of a young man, gives a 
 touching picture of Washington's first interview with her. "She 
 for a time entirely lost herself. The general went up to see her, 
 and she upbraided him with being in a plot to murder her child. 
 One moment she raved, another she melted into tears, sometimes 
 she pressed her infant to her bosom, and lamented its fate occa- 
 sioned by the imprudence of its father in a manner that would have 
 pierced insensibihty itself. All the sweetness of beauty, all the love- 
 liness of innocence, all the tenderness of a wife, and all the fondness 
 of a mother, showed themselves in her appearance and conduct." 
 She soon set off under a passport from Washington, to her father's 
 house in Philadelphia. 
 
 On the 26th of September, the day after the treason of Arnold 
 had been revealed to Washington, Andre arrived at the Robinson 
 House, in charge of Major Tallmadge. Washington made many 
 inquiries of the major, but declined to have the prisoner brought 
 into his presence, apparently entertaining a strong idea of his 
 moral obliquity, from the nature of the scheme in which he had 
 been engaged, and the circumstances under which he had been 
 arrested. He sent him to West Point, and shortly afterwards, 
 Joshua H. Smith, who had been arrested. Still, not considering 
 them secure even there, he determined on the following day to 
 send them on to the camp. In a letter to Greene he writes: 
 "They will be under an escort of horse, and I wish you to have 
 separate houses in camp ready for their reception, in which they 
 may be kept perfectly secure; and also strong, trusty guards, trebly 
 officered, that a part may be constantly in the room with them. 
 They have not been permitted to be together, and must be kept 
 apart." Early on the morning of the 28th, the prisoners were 
 embarked in a barge, to be conveyed from West Point to King's 
 Ferry. Tallmadge placed Andre by his side on the after seat of 
 the barge. Being both young, of equal rank and prepossessing 
 manners, a frank and cordial intercourse had grown up between 
 them. By a cartel, mutually agreed upon, each might put to the 
 other any question not involving a third person. They w^ere pass- 
 ing below the rocky heights of West Point, and in full view of the 
 fortress, when Tallmadge asked Andre whether he would have 
 taken an active part in the attack on it, should Arnold's plan have 
 succeeded. Andre promptly answered in the affirmative; pointed 
 out a table of land on the west shore, where he would have landed 
 at the head of a select corps, described the route he would have 
 taken up the mountain to a height in the rear of Port Putnam, 
 overlooking the whole parade of West Point — "and this he did," 
 writes Tallmadge, "with much greater exactness than I could 
 have done. This eminence he would have reached without diffi- 
 culty, as Arnold would have disposed of the garrison in such man- 
 ner as to be capable of little or no opposition — and then the key of 
 the country would have been in his hands, and he would have 
 had the glory of the splendid achievements He ventured to ask 
 
458 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 what was to have been his reward had he succeeded. " Military 
 glory was all he sought. The thanks of his general and the appro- 
 bation of his king would have been a rich reward for such an 
 undertaking, I think he further remarked, that, if he had suc- 
 ceeded, he was to have been promoted to the 7'ajtk of a bj'igadicr- 
 ge?teraL" After disembarking at King's Ferry near Stony Point, 
 they set off for Tappan under the escort of a body of horse. As 
 they approached the Clove, a deep defile in the rear of the High- 
 lands, Andre, who rode beside Tallmadge, became solicitous to 
 know the opinion of the latter as to what would be the result of his 
 capture, and in what hght he would be regarded by General 
 Washington and by a military tribunal, should one be ordered. 
 Tallmadge evaded the question as long as possible, but being 
 urged to a full and explicit reply, gave it, he says, in the following 
 words : " I had a much-loved classmate in Yale College, by the 
 name of Nathan Hale, who entered the army in 1775. Immedi- 
 ately after the battle of Long Island, General Washington wanted 
 information respecting the strength, position, and probable move- 
 ments of the enemy. Captain Hale tendered his services, went 
 over to Brooklyn and was taken, just as he was passing the out- 
 posts of the enemy on his return; said I with emphasis — 'Do you 
 remember the sequel of the story?' 'Yes,' said Andre. 'He was 
 hanged as a spy ! But you surely do not consider his case and 
 mine alike?' 'Yes, precisely similar; and similar will be your 
 fate.'" ^ "He endeavored," adds Tallmadge, " to answer my 
 
 *Tlie fate of the heroic youth here alluded to, deserves a more ample notice. 
 Born in Coventry, Connecticut, June 6th, 1755, he entered Yale College in 1770, 
 and graduated with some distinction in September, 1773, having previously 
 contracted an engagement of marriage ; not unlike Andre in this respect, who 
 wooed his " Ilonora" at eighteen. On quitting college he engaged as a 
 teacher, as is common with young men in New England, while studying for a 
 profession. His half-formed purpose was to devote himself to the ministry. 
 As a teacher of youth, he was eminently skilful, and equally appreciated by 
 i)arents and pupils. He became universally popular. "Everybody loved 
 ium."said a lady of his acquaintance, "he was so sprightly, intelligent and 
 kind, and so handsome," He was teaching at New London,'when an express 
 anived, biinging tidings of the outbreak at Lexington, A town meeting was 
 called, and Hale was among the most ardent of the speakers, proposing an 
 instant march to the scene 01 hostilities, and offering to volunteer, "A sense 
 of duty," writes he to his father, "urges me to sacrifice everything for my 
 country." He served in the army before Boston as a Lieutenant; prevailed 
 on his company to extend their term of service by offering tliem his own i)ay, 
 nnd for his good conduct received from Congress the commission of captain. 
 He commanded a company in Colonel Knowlton's regiment in the following 
 year. After the disastrous battle of Long Island, Washington applied to that 
 officer for a competent person to penetrate the enemy's camp, and procure 
 intellip;ence of their designs; a service deemed vital in that dispiriting crisis. 
 Hale, ni the ardor of patriotism, volunteered for the unenviable enterprise, 
 though fully aware of its peril, and the consequences of capture. Assuming 
 his old character as schoolmaster, he crossed the sound at night from NorwalK 
 to Huntingdon on Long Island, visited the British encampments unsuspected, 
 made drawings of the enemy's works, and noted down memoranda in Latin of 
 the information he gathered, and then retraced his steps to Huntington, 
 wliere a boat was to meet him and convey him back to the Connecticut shore. 
 Unfortimately a British guard ship was a"t that time anchored out of view in 
 the Sound, and had sent a boat on shore for water. Hale mistook it for the 
 expected boat, and did not discover his mistake until he found himself in the 
 hands of enemies. He was stripped and searched, the plans and memoranda 
 were found concealed in the soles of his shoes, and proved him to be a spy. 
 He was conveyed to the guard ship, and thence to New York, where he was 
 
i.-'So.J ANDR^ CONDEMNED AS A SPY. 459 
 
 remarks, but it was manifest he was more troubled in spirit than I 
 had ever seen him before." — The place which had been prepared 
 to receive Major Andre, is still pointed out as the " 76 Stone 
 House." The caution which Washington had given as to his safe 
 keeping, was strictly observed by Col. Scammel, the adjutant- 
 general, as may be seen by his orders to the officer of the guards. 
 " Major Andre, the prisoner under your guard, is not only an offi- 
 cer of distinction in the British army, but a man of infinite art and 
 address, who will leave no means unattempted to make his escape 
 and avoid the ignominious death which awaits him. You are 
 therefore, in addition to your sentries, to keep two officers constantly 
 in the room with him, with their swords drawn, whilst the other 
 officers who are out of the room are constantly to keep walking 
 the entry and around the sentries, to see that they are alert. No 
 person whatever is to be permitted to enter the room, or speak with 
 him, unless by direction of the commander-in-chief. You are by 
 no means to suffer him to go out of the room on any pretext what- 
 ever." 
 
 The capture of Andr6 caused a great sensation at New York. 
 He was universally popular with the army, and an especial favor- 
 ite of Sir Henry Clinton. The latter addressed a letter to Wash- 
 ington on the 29th, claiming the release of Andre on the ground 
 that he visited Arnold under the sanction of a flag of truce ; and 
 was stopped while travelling under Arnold's passports. This 
 official demand had no effect on the steady mind of Washington. 
 He considered the circumstances under which Andre had been 
 taken such as would have justified the most summary proceedings, 
 but he determined to refer the case to the examination and decis- 
 ion of a board of general officers, which he convened on the 29th 
 of Sept., the day after his arrival at Tappan. It was composed of 
 six major-generals, Greene, Stirling, St. Clair, Lafayette, R, Howe, 
 and Steuben ; and eight brigadiers. Parsons, James Clinton, Knox, 
 Glover, Paterson, Hand, Huntingdon, and Stark. Gen. Greene, 
 •who vvas well versed in military law, and was a man of sound 
 head and kind heart, was president, and Col. John Lawrence, 
 judge advocate-general. Col. Alexander Hamilton gives, in let- 
 ters to his friends, many interesting particulars concerning the con- 
 duce of the prisoner. "When brought before the board of officers," 
 writes he, "he met with every mark of indulgence, and was re- 
 quired to answer no interrogatory which would even embarrass his 
 feelings. On his part, while he carefully concealed everything 
 that might implicate others, he frankly confessed all the facts re- 
 lating to himself, and upon his confession, without the trouble of 
 examining a witness, the board made up their report." It briefly 
 
 landed on the 21st of September, the day of the great fire. He was taken to 
 General Howe's headquarters, and, after a brief parley with his judge, 
 ordered for execution the next morning at daybreak— a sentence carried out 
 by tlie provost marshal, the brutal and infamous Cunningham, who refused 
 his request for a Bible, and destroyed a letter he had addressed to his mother, 
 for the reason afterwards given by himself, " that tlie rebels should never 
 know they had a man who could die with such firnniess." His jjatriot si)ijit 
 shone forth in his dying words— "I only regret that 1 have but one life to lose 
 for my country." 
 
46o LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 stated the circumstances of the case, and concluded with the opin- 
 ion of the court, that Major Andre, adjutant-general of the British 
 army, ought to be considered a spy from the enemy, and agreeably 
 to the law and usage of nations, ought to suffer death. In a con- 
 versation with Hamilton, Andre acknowledged the candor, liber- 
 ahty, and indulgence with which the board had conducted them- 
 selves in their painful inquiry. He met the result with manly 
 firmness. " I foresee my fate," said he ; "and though I pretend 
 not to play the hero, or to be indifferent about life, yet I am recon- 
 ciled to whatever may happen ; conscious that misfortune, not 
 guilt, has brought it upon me." Even in this situation of gathering 
 horrors, he thought of others more than himself. "There is only 
 one thing that disturbs my tranquility," said he to Hamilton, 
 •' Sir Henry Clinton has been too good to me ; he has been lavish 
 of his kindness. I am bound to him by too many obligations, and 
 love him too well, to bear the thought that he should reproach 
 himself, or others should reproach him, on the supposition of my 
 having conceived myself obliged, by his instructions, to run the 
 risk I did. I would not for the world leave a sting in his mind 
 that should embitter his future days." He could scarce finish the 
 sentence ; bursting into tears, in spite of his efforts to suppress 
 them, he added : "I wish to be permitted to assure him that I did 
 not act under this impression, but submitted to a necessity imposed 
 upon me, as conti'ary to my own inclination, as to his wishes." 
 He wrote a letter to Sir Henry CHnton to the above purport. He 
 made mention also of his mother and three sisters, to whom the 
 value of his commission would be an object. [The commission 
 was sold by Clinton, for the benefit of Andre's mother and sisters. 
 The King, also, settled a pension on the mother.] This letter ac- 
 companied one from Washington to Sir Henry CHnton, stating the 
 report of the board of inquiry, omitting the sentence. " From 
 these proceedings," observes he, " it is evident that Major Andre 
 was employed in the execution of measures very foreign to the 
 objects of flags of truce, and such as they were never meant to 
 authorize in the most distant degree ; and this gentleman confessed 
 with the greatest candor, in the course of his examination, that it 
 was impossible for him to suppose that he came on shore under the 
 sanction of a flag." Capt. Aaron Ogden, of the New Jersey Hue, 
 was selected by Washington to bear these despatches to the 
 enemy's post at Paulus Hook, thence to be conveyed across the 
 Hudson to New York. He called by Washington's request, on 
 the Marquis Lafayette, who gave him instructions to sound the 
 officer commanding at that post whether Sir Henry Clinton might 
 not be willing to dehver up Arnold in exchange for Andre. Ogden 
 made the suggestion, as if incidentally, in the course of conversa- 
 tion. The officer demanded if he had any authority from Wash- 
 ington for such an intimation. "I have no such assurance from 
 General Washington," replied he, " but I am prepared to say, 
 that if such a proposal were made, I believe it would be accepted, 
 and Major Andre set at liberty." The officer communicated the 
 
1 78o. J WASHING TON IMMO VABLE, 461 
 
 matter to Sir Henry, but the latter instantly rejected the expedient 
 as incompatible with honor and military principle. 
 
 The character, appearance, deportment and fortunes of Andre, 
 had interested the feehngs of the oldest and sternest soldiers 
 around him, and completely captivated the sympathies of the 
 younger ones. He was treated with the greatest respect and kind- 
 ness throughout his confinement, and his table was supplied from 
 that of the commander-in-chief. Hamilton, who was in daily in- 
 tercourse with him, describes him as well improved by education 
 and travel, with an elegant turn of mind, and a taste for the fine 
 arts. He had attained some proficiency in poetry, music, and 
 painting. His sentiments were elevated, his elocution was fluent, 
 his address easy, polite and engaging, with a softness that concili- 
 ated affection. The execution was to have taken place on the ist 
 of October, at five o'clock in the afternoon ; but in the interim 
 Washington received a second letter from Sir Henry Clinton, 
 dated Sept. 30th, expressing an opinion that the board of inquiry 
 had not been rightly informed of all the circumstances on which a 
 judgment ought to be formed, and that, in order that he might be 
 perfectly apprised of the state of the matter before he proceeded 
 to put that judgment in execution, he should send a commission 
 on the following day, composed of Lieut. -Gov. Elliot, William 
 Smith, chief justice of the province, and Lieut.-Gen. Robertson, to 
 wait near Dobbs Ferry for permission and safe conduct to meet 
 Washington, or such persons as he should appoint to converse 
 with them on the subject. This letter caused a postponement of 
 the execution, and Gen. Greene was sent to meet the commis- 
 sioners at Dobbs Ferry. They came up in the morning of the 1st 
 of October, in a schooner, with a flag of truce. A long conference 
 took place between Gen. Robertson and Gen. Greene, without any 
 agreement of opinion upon the question at issue. Greene returned 
 to camp promising to report faithfully to Washington the arguments 
 used by Robertson, and to inform the latter of the result. Arnold 
 sent a letter to Washington by the commissioners, in which the 
 traitor reasserted the right he had possessed, as commanding offi- 
 cer of the department, to transact all the matters with which Andre 
 was inculpated, and insisted that the latter ought not to suffer for 
 them. " But." added he, " if after this just and candid representa- 
 tion of Major Andre's case, the board of general officers adhere to 
 their former opinion, I shall suppose it dictated by passion and 
 resentment ; and if that gentleman should suffer the severity of 
 their sentence, I shall think myself bound, by every tie of duty and 
 honor, to retaliate on such unhappy persons of your army as may 
 fall within my power, that the respect due to flags, and to the laws 
 of nations, may be better understood and observed. I have fur- 
 ther to observe, that forty of the principal inhabitants of South 
 Carolina have justly forfeited their lives, which have hitherto been 
 spared by the clemency of his Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton, who 
 cannot in justice extend his mercy to them any longer, if Major 
 Andre suffers ; which, in all probability, will open a scene of blood 
 at which humanity shudders." Beside this impudent and despica- 
 
462 LIFE OF WASHING TO X. 
 
 ble letter, there was another from Arnold containing the farce of a 
 resignation. Greene, in a brief letter to Gen. Robertson, informed 
 him that he had made as full a report of their conference to the 
 commander-in-chief, as his memory would serve, but that it had 
 made no alteration in Washington's opinion and determination. 
 During this day of respite Andre had conducted himself with his 
 usual tranquility. A hkeness of himself, seated at a table in his 
 guard-room, which he sketched with a pen and gave to the officer 
 on guard, is still extant. It being announced to him that one 
 o'clock on the following day was fixed on for his execution, he 
 remarked, that since it was his lot to die there was still a choice in 
 the mode ; he therefore addressed the; following note to Washing- 
 ton : * * " Sympathy towards a soldier will surely induce your 
 Excellency and a military tribunal to adapt the mode of my death 
 to the feehngs of a man of honor. Let me hope, sir, that if aught 
 in my character impresses you with esteem towards me ; if aught 
 in my misfortunes marks me as the victim of pohcy and not of 
 resentment, 1 shall experience the operation of these feelings in 
 your breast by being informed that I am not to die on a gibbet." 
 Had Washington consulted his feelings merely, this affecting 
 appeal might not have been in vain, for, though not impulsive, he 
 was eminently benevolent. But he had a high and tenacious 
 sense of the duties and responsibilities of his position, and never 
 more than in this trying moment, when he had to elevate himself 
 above the contagious sympathies of those around him, dismiss all 
 personal considerations, and regard the peculiar circumstances of 
 the case. The long course of insidious operations which had been 
 pursued to undermine the loyalty of one of his most trusted officers ; 
 the greatness of the evil which the treason would have effected, if 
 successful ; the uncertainty how far the enemy had carried, or 
 might still be carrying, — their scheme of corruption, pointed this out 
 as a case in which a signal example was required. And what 
 called for particular indulgence to the agent, if not instigator of this 
 enormous crime, who had thus been providentially detected in dis- 
 guise, and with the means of its consummation concealed upon his 
 person? His errand, said Hon. Henry J. Raymond, at the dedica- 
 tion of the Andre monument, '• viewed in the light of morality, and 
 even of that chivalry from which modern war pretends to derive 
 its maxims, was one of infamy. He had been commissioned to 
 buy with gold what steel could not conquer ; to drive a bargain 
 with one ready for a price to become a traitor ; to count out the 
 thirty pieces of silver by which British generals and British gentle- 
 men were not ashamed to purchase the betrayal of a cause, whose 
 shining virtue repelled their power, and dimmed the glory of their 
 arms." Even the language of traffic in which this negotiation had 
 been carried on between the pseudo-Gustavus and John Anderson, 
 had something ignoble and debasing to the chivalrous aspirant 
 who stooped to use it ; especially when used as a crafty covering 
 in bargaining for a man's soul. It has been alleged in Andre's 
 behalf, as a mitigating circumstance, that he was involuntarily a 
 spy. It is true, he did not come on shore in borrowed garb, nor 
 
1780.] AXDRP. DIES OA A G/Bnj:7\ 463 
 
 with a design to pass himself off for another, and procure secret 
 information ; but he came, under cloak of midnight, in supposed 
 safety, to effect the betrayal of a holy trust ; and it was his undue 
 eagerness to secure the objects of this clandestine interview, that 
 brought him into the condition of an undoubted spy. It certainly 
 should not soften our view of his mission, that he embarked in it 
 without intending to subject himself to danger. A spice of danger 
 would have given it a spice of heroism, however spurious. When 
 the rendezvous was first projected, he sought, through an indirect 
 channel, to let Arnold know that he would come out with a flag. 
 (We allude to a letter written by him from New York on the 7th of 
 Sept., under his feigned signature, to Col. Sheldon; evidently 
 intended to be seen by Arnold. " I will endeavor to obtain per- 
 mission to go out with a flag.") If an interview had taken place 
 under that sacred protection, and a triumphant treason had been 
 the result, what a brand it would have affixed to Andre's name, 
 that he had prostituted a flag of truce to such an end. But 
 although Andre's request as to the mode of his death was not to be 
 granted, it was thought best to let him remain in uncertainty on 
 the subject. On the morning of the 2d, he maintained a calm 
 demeanor, though all around him were gloomy and silent Hav- 
 ing breakfasted, he dressed himself with care in the full uniform of 
 a British officer, placed his hat upon the table, and accosting the 
 officer on guard — •" I am ready," said he, " at any moment, gen- 
 tlemen, to wait upon you." He walked to the place of execution 
 between two subaltern officers, arm in arm, with a serene counte- 
 nance, bowing to several gentlemen whom he knew. Col. Tall- 
 madge accompanied him, and we quote his words. " When he 
 came in sight of the gibbet, he appeared to be startled, and 
 inquired with some emotion whether he was not to be shot. 
 Being informed that the mode first appointed for his death could 
 not consistently be altered, he exclaimed, * How hard is my fate ! * 
 but immediately added, 'it will soon be over.' I then shook 
 hands with him under the gallows, and retired." While waiting 
 near the gallows until preparations were made, he evinced some 
 nervousness, putting his foot on a stone and rolling it ; and making 
 an effort to swallow, as if checking an hysterical affection of the 
 throat. All things being ready, he stepped into the wagon. Tak- 
 ing off his hat and stock, and opening his shirt collar, he delib- 
 erately adjusted the noose to his neck, after which he took out a 
 handkerchief, and tied it over his eyes. Being told by the officer 
 in command that his arms must be bound, he drew out a second 
 handkerchief, with which they were pinioned. Col. Scammel now 
 told him that he had an opportunity to speak, if he desired to. His 
 only reply was, " I pray you to bear witness that I meet my fate 
 like a brave man." The wagon moved from under him, and left 
 him suspended. He died almost without a struggle. He remained 
 suspended for about half an hour, during which time a deathlike 
 stillness prevailed over the surrounding multitude. His remains 
 were interred within a few yards of the place of his execution, 
 whence they were transferred to England in 1821, by the British 
 
464 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 consul, then resident in New York, and were buried in Westmin- 
 ster Abbey, near a mural monument which had been erected to his 
 memory. Never has any man, suffering under hke circumstances, 
 awakened a more universal sympathy. His story is one of the 
 touching themes of the Revolution, and his name is still spoken of 
 •with kindness in the local traditions of the neighborhood where he 
 •was captured. — Washington, in a letter to the President of Con- 
 gress, passed a high eulogium on the captors of Andre, and recom- 
 mended them for a handsome gratuity ; for having, in all proba- 
 bility, prevented one of the severest strokes that could have been 
 meditated by the enemy. Congress accordingly expressed, in a 
 formal vote, a high sense of their virtuous and patriotic conduct; 
 awarded to each of them a farm, a pension for life of two hundred 
 dollars, and a silver medal, bearing on one side an escutcheon on 
 which was engraved the word Fidelity, and on the other side the 
 motto, Vincit amor Patrice. These medals were delivered to them 
 by General Washington at head-quarters, with impressive cere- 
 mony. Isaac Van Wart, one of the captors, had been present at 
 the execution of Andre, and was deeply affected by it. He was 
 rot fond of recalling the subject, and in after life could rarely 
 speak of Andre without tears. Joshua H. Smith, who aided in 
 bringing Andre and Arnold together, was tried by a court-martial, 
 on a charge of participating in the treason, but was acquitted, no 
 proof appearing of his having had any knowledge of Arnold's plot. 
 Arnold was now made brigadier-general in the British service, 
 and put on an official level with honorable men who scorned to 
 associate with the traitor. What golden reward he was to have 
 received had his treason been successful, is not known ; but six 
 thousand three hundred and fifteen pounds sterling were paid to 
 him, as a compensation for losses which he pretended to have suf- 
 fered in going over to the enemies of his country. The vilest cul- 
 prit, however, shrinks from sustaining the obloquy of his crimes. 
 Shortly after his arrival in New York, Arnold published an address 
 to the Inhabitants of America, in which he endeavored to vindicate 
 his conduct. He alleged that he had originally taken up arms 
 merely to aid in obtaining a redress of grievances. He had con- 
 sidered the Declaration of Independence precipitate, and the 
 reasojis for it obviated by the subsequent proffers of the British 
 government ; and he inveighed against Congress for rejecting 
 those offers, without submitting them to the people. Finally, the 
 treaty with France, a proud, ancient and crafty foe, the enemy of 
 the Protestant faith and of real liberty, had completed, he said, the 
 measure of his indignation, and determined him to abandon a 
 cause sustained by iniquity and controlled by usurpers. He 
 issued a proclamation inviting the officers and soldiers of the 
 American army, who had the real interest of their country at heart, 
 and who were determined to be no longer the tools and dupes of 
 Congress, and of France, to rally under the royal standard, and 
 fight for true American liberty ; holding out promises of large 
 bounties and liberal subsistence, with compensation for all the 
 implements and accoutrements of war they might bring with them. 
 
i/So.] ARNOLD HACKNEYED IN VILLAINY. 46$ 
 
 Speaking of this address, " I am at loss," said Washington, " which 
 to admire most, the confidence of Arnold in pubUshing it, or the 
 folly of the enemy in supposing that a production signed by so 
 infamous a character will have any weight with the people of the 
 States, or any influence upon our officers abroad." He was right. 
 Both the address and the proclamation were regarded by Ameri- 
 cans with the contempt they merited. Col. John Laurens, former 
 aide-de-camp to Washington, in speaking of Andre's fate, observed, 
 •' Arnold must undergo a punishment comparatively more severe, 
 in the permanent, increasing torment of a mental hell." Wash- 
 ington doubted it. " He wants feeling," said he. " From some 
 traits of his character which have lately come to my knowledge, 
 he seems to have been so hackneyed in villainy, and so lost to all 
 sense of honor and shame, tnat, while his faculties will enable him 
 to continue his sordid pursuits, there will be no time for remorse." 
 And in a letter to Gov. Reed, he writes, "Arnold's conduct is so 
 villainously perfidious, that there are no terms that can describe the 
 baseness of his heart. That overruling Providence which has so 
 often and so remarkably interposed in our favor, never manifested 
 itself more conspicuously than in the timely discovery of his horrid 
 intention to surrender the post and garrison of West Point into the 
 hands of the enemy." The confidence and folly which have 
 marked the subsequent conduct of this man, are of a piece with his 
 villainy, and all three are perfect in their kind." 
 
 Mrs. Arnold, on arriving at her father's house in Philadelphia, 
 had decided on a separation from her husband, to whom she 
 could not endure the thought of returning after his dishonor. This 
 course, however, was not allowed her. The executive council, 
 wrongfully suspecting her of having aided in the correspondence 
 between her husband and Andre, knowing its treasonable ten- 
 dency, ordered her to leave the State within fourteen days, and 
 not to return during the continuance of the war. "We tried every 
 means," writes one of her connections, "to prevail on the council 
 to permit her to stay among us, and not compel her to go to that 
 infernal villain, her husband. Mr. Shippen (her father) had 
 promised the council, and Mrs. Arnold had signed a writing to the 
 same purpose, engaging not to write to Arnold any letters without 
 showing them to the council, if she was permitted to stay." It 
 was all in vain, and, strongly against her will, she rejoined her 
 husband in New York. While the whole country resounded with 
 execrations of his guilt ; while his effigy was dragged through 
 the streets of town and village, burnt at the stake, or swung on the 
 gibbet, she passed on secure from injury or insult. The execra- 
 tions of the populace were silenced at her approach. Arriving at 
 nightfall at a village where they were preparing for one of these 
 burnings in effigy, the pyre remained unkindled, the people dis- 
 persed quietly to their homes, and the wife of the traitor was suf- 
 fered to sleep in peace. She returned home but once, about five 
 years after her exile, and was treated with such coldness and neg- 
 lect that she declared she never could come again. In England 
 her charms and virtues, it is said, procured her svmpathy and 
 
466 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 friendship, and helped to sustain the social position of her hus- 
 band, who, however, was "generally slighted, and sometimes 
 insulted." She died in London, in the winter of 1796. — We have 
 been induced to enter thus largely into the circumstances of this 
 story, from the undiminished interest taken in it by the readers of 
 American history. Indeed, a romance has been thrown around 
 the memory of the unfortunate Andre, which increases with the 
 progress of years ; while the name of Arnold will stand sadly con- 
 spicuous to the end of time, as the only American officer of note, 
 throughout all the trials and vicissitudes of the Revolution, who 
 proved traitor to the glorious cause of his country. 
 
 As the enemy would now possess the means, through Arnold, of 
 informing themselves thoroughly about West Point, Washington 
 hastened to have the works completed and strongly garrisoned. 
 He took post with his main army, at Prakeness, near Passaic Falls 
 in New Jersey. Gen. Gates' late defeat at Camden had withered 
 the laurels snatched at Saratoga. As in the one instance he had 
 received exaggerated praise, so in the other, he suffered undue 
 censure. The sudden annihilation of an army from which so 
 much had been expected, and the retreat of the general before the 
 field was absolutely lost, appeared to demand a strict investiga- 
 tion. Congress therefore passed a resolution (Oct. 5th), requiring 
 Washington to order a court of inquiry into the conduct of Gates 
 as commander of the Southern army, and to appoint some other 
 officer to the command until the inquiry should be made. Wash- 
 ington at once selected Greene for the important trust, the well- 
 tried officer whom he would originally have chosen, had his opinion 
 been consulted, when Congress so unadvisedly gave the command 
 to Gates. His letter of instructions to Greene (Oct. 22d) showed 
 the implicit confidence he reposed in the abilities and integrity of 
 that excellent officer. "Uninformed as I am," writes he, " of 
 the enemy's force in that quarter, of our own, or of the resources 
 which it will be in our power to command, for carrying on the 
 war, I can give you no particular instructions, but must leave you 
 to govern yourself entirely according to your own prudence and 
 judgment, and the circumstances in which you find yourself." 
 The court of inquiry was to be conducted in the quarter in which 
 Gates had acted, where all the witnesses were, and where alone 
 the requisite information could be obtained. Baron Steuben was 
 to preside, and the members of the court were to be such general 
 and field-officers of *the Continental troops as were not present at 
 the battle of Camden, or, having been present, were not wanted 
 as witnesses, or were persons to whom Gates had no objection. 
 
 Ravaging incursions from Canada had harassed the northern' 
 parts of the State of New York of late, and laid desolate some 
 parts of the country from which Washington had hoped to receive 
 great supplies of flour for the armies. Major Carleton, a nephew 
 of Sir Guy, at the head of a motley force, European, Tory, and 
 Indian, had captured Forts Anne and George. Sir John Johnson 
 also, with Joseph Brant, and a mongrel half-savage crew, had 
 laid waste the fertile region of the Mohawk River, and burned 
 
1780.] CONFIDENCE INSPIRED BY VIRTUE. 467 
 
 the villages of Schoharie and Caughnawaga. The greatest alarm 
 prevailed throughout the neighboring country. The marauders 
 had been encountered and driven back by Gen. Van Rensselaer 
 and the mihtia of those parts ; not, however, until they had nearly 
 destroyed the settlements on the Mohawk, Washington now put 
 Brig. Gen. James Clinton (the governor's brother) in command of 
 the Northern department. The state of the army was growing 
 more and more a subject of solicitude to the commander-in-chief. 
 He felt weary of strugghng on, with such scanty means, and such 
 vast responsibihty. The campaign, which, at its commencement, 
 had seemed pregnant with favorable events, had proved sterile and 
 inactive, and was drawing to a close. The short terms for which 
 most of the troops were enlisted must soon expire, and then the 
 present army would be reduced to a mere shadow. The Marquis 
 Lafayette at this time commanded the advance guard of Washing- 
 ton's army, composed of six battalions of hght-infantry. They 
 were better clad than the other soldiery; in trim uniforms, leathern 
 helmets, with crests of horse-hair. The officers were armed with 
 spoiitoons, the non-commissioned officers with fusees ; both with 
 short sabres which the marquis had brought from France, and 
 presented to them. He was proud of his troops, and had a young 
 man's ardor for active service. At this juncture, the Marquis de 
 Chastellux arrived in camp. He was on a tour of curiosity, while 
 the French troops at Rhode Island w^ere in winter-quarters, and 
 came on the invitation of his relative, the Marquis Lafayette, who 
 was to present him to Washington. In after years he pubhshed 
 an account of his tour, in which we have graphic sketches of the 
 camp and the commanders. He arrived with his aides-de-camp 
 on the afternoon of Nov. 23d, and sought the headquarters of the 
 commander-in-chief. They were in a large farm house. There 
 was a spacious tent in the yard before it for the general, and 
 several smaller tents in an adjacent field for his guards. Every- 
 thing was in perfect order. As De Chastellux rode up, he observed 
 Lafayette in front of the house, conversing with an officer, tall of 
 stature, with a mild and noble countenance. It was Washington. 
 De Chastellux alighted and was presented by Lafayette. His 
 reception was frank and cordial. Washington conducted him into 
 the house. Dinner was over, but Generals Knox, Wayne, and 
 Howe, and Colonels Hamilton, Tilghman, and other officers, were 
 still seated round the board. Washington introduced De Chastel- 
 lux to them, and ordered a repast for the former and his aides-de- 
 camp: all remained at table, and a few glasses of claret and 
 Maderia promoted sociability. The marquis soon found himself 
 at his ease with Washington. "The goodness and benevolence 
 which characterize him," observes he, " are felt by all around him; 
 but the confidence he inspires is never famihar ; it springs from a 
 profound esteem for his virtues, and a great opinion of his talents." 
 The next morning, horses were led up after breakfast ; they were 
 to review the troops and visit Lafayette's encampment seven miles 
 distant. The horses which De Chastellux and Washington rode, 
 had been presented to the latter by the State of Virginia. There 
 
468 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 were fine blood horses also for the aides-de-camp. "Washing- 
 ton's horses," writes De Chastellux, " are as good as they are 
 beautiful, and all perfectly trained. He trains them all himself. 
 He is a very good and a very hardy cavalier, leaping the highest 
 barriers, and riding very fast, without rising in the stirrups, bearing 
 on the bridle, or suffering his horse to run as if wild." Speaking 
 of his personal appearance, he writes: " His form is noble and 
 elevated, well-shaped and exactly proportioned ; his physiognomy 
 mild and agreeable, but such, that one does not speak in particular 
 of any one of his traits ; and that in quitting him there remains 
 simply the recollection of a fine countenance. His air is neither 
 grave nor familiar ; one sees sometimes on his forehead the marks 
 of thought, but never of inquietude ; while inspiring respect he 
 inspires confidence, and his smile is always that of benevolence. 
 Above ail, it is interesting, to see him in the midst of the general 
 officers of his army. General in a republic, he has not the impos- 
 ing state of a marshal of France who gives the order ; hero in a 
 repubhc, he excites a different sort of respect, which seems to 
 originate in this sole idea, that the welfare of each individual is 
 attached to his person. Brave without temerity ; laborious without 
 ambition ; generous without prodigality : noble without pride ; 
 virtuous without severity ; he seems always to stop short of that 
 limit, where the virtues, assuming colors more vivid, but more 
 changeable and dubious, might be taken for defects." 
 
 Major Tallmadge with eighty men, chiefly dismounted dragoons 
 of Sheldon's regiment, crossed in boats from the Connecticut shore 
 to Long Island, where the Sound was twenty miles wide ; traversed 
 the island on the 22d of Nov., surprised Fort George at Coram, 
 captured the garrison of fifty-two men, demolished the fort, set 
 fire to magazines of forage, nnd recrossed the Sound to Fairfield, 
 without the loss of a man. At the end of Nov. the army went 
 into winter-quarters ; the Pennsylvania line in the neighborhood 
 of Morristown, the Jersey line about Pompton, the New England 
 troops at West Point, and the other posts of the Highlands; and 
 the New York line was stationed at Albany, to guard against any 
 invasion from Canada. The French army remained stationed at 
 Newport, excepting the Duke of Lauzun's legion, which was 
 cantoned at Lebanon in Connecticut. Washington's headquarters 
 were established at New Windsor, on the Hudson. 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 MOVEMENTS OF CORNWALLIS — TERMINATION OF THE WAR. 
 
 CoRNWALLis having, as he supposed, entirely crushed the 
 "rebel cause" in South Carolina, by the defeats of Gates and 
 Sumter, remained for some time at Camden, detained by the 
 excessive heat of the weather and the sickness of part of his troops, 
 broken down by the hardships of campaigning under a southern 
 
i/So.j HORNET'S NEST OF NORTH CAROLINA. 469 
 
 sun. Immediately after the victory at Camden, he had ordered 
 the friends to royalty in North Carolina "to arm and intercept 
 the beaten army of Gen. Gates," promising that he would march 
 directly to the borders of that province in their support ; he now 
 detached Major Patrick Ferguson to its western confines, to keep 
 the war ahve in that quarter. His orders were to skirt the moun- 
 tain country between the Catawba and the Yadkin, harass the 
 whigs, inspirit the tories, and embody the militia under the royal 
 banner. This done, he was to repair to Charlotte, the capital of 
 Mecklenburg County, where he would find CornwalHs, who 
 intended to make it his rendezvous. Should he, however, in the 
 course of his tour, be threatened by a superior force, he was imme- 
 diately to return to the main army. Cornwallis decamped from 
 Camden, and set out for North Carolina. In the subjugation of 
 that province, he counted on the cooperation of the troops which 
 Clinton was to send to the lower part of Virginia, which, after 
 reducing the Virginians to obedience, were to join his lordship's 
 standard on the confines of North Carolina. He took post at 
 Charlotte, where he had given rendezvous to Ferguson. Mecklen- 
 burg, of which this was the capital, was the " heady high-minded" 
 country, where the first declaration of independence had been 
 made, and his lordship from uncomfortable experience soon pro- 
 nounced Charlotte "the Hornet's Nest of North Carolina." The 
 surrounding country was wild and rugged, covered with close and 
 thick woods, and crossed in every direction by narrow roads. All 
 attempts at foraging were worse than useless. The plantations 
 were small and afforded scanty supplies. The inhabitants were 
 stanch whigs, with the pugnacious spirit of the old Covenanters. 
 Instead of remaining at home and receiving the king's money in 
 exchange for their produce, they turned out with their rifles, 
 stationed themselves in covert places, and fired upon the foraging 
 parties ; convoys of provisions from Camden had to fight their 
 way, and expresses were shot down and their despatches seized. 
 Ferguson was on his way to join Cornwallis when a chance for a 
 signal exploit presented itself. An American force under Col. 
 Elijah Clarke, of Georgia, was retreating to the mountain districts 
 of North Carolina, after an unsuccessful attack upon the British 
 post at Augusta. Ferguson resolved to cut off their retreat. Turn- 
 ing towards the mountains, he made his way through a rugged 
 wilderness and took post at Gilbert-town, a small frontier village of 
 log-houses. He had no idea that the marauds of his followers had 
 aiTayed the very wilderness against him. " All of a sudden, a 
 numerous, fierce and unexpected enemy sprung up in the depths 
 of the desert. The scattered inhabitants of the mountains assem- 
 bled without noise or warning, under the conduct of six or seven 
 of their militia colonels, to the number of six hundred strong, 
 daring, well-mounted and excellent horsemen. These were the 
 people of the mountains which form the frontiers of the Carolinas 
 and Georgia, " mountain men," as they were commonly called, 
 a hardy race, half huntsmen, half herdsmen, inhabiting deep 
 narrow valleys and fertile slopes, adapted to grazing, watered by 
 
470 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the coldest of springs and brightest of streams, and cmbosoined 
 in mighty forest trees. Being subject to inroads and surprisals 
 from the Chickasaws, Cherokees and Creeks, a tacit league existed 
 among them for mutual defence, and it only needed, as in the 
 present instance, an alarm to be circulated through their settle- 
 ments by swift messengers to bring them at once to the point of 
 danger. ' A band of '• the wild and fierce " inhabitants of Ken- 
 tucky, with men from other settlements west of the Alleghanies, 
 had crossed the mountains, led by Colonels Campbell and Boone, 
 to pounce upon a quantity of Indian goods at Augusta ; but had 
 pulled up on hearing of the repulse of Clarke. The stout yeomen, 
 also, of the district of Ninety-Six, roused by the marauds of Fer- 
 guson, had taken the field, under the conduct of Col. James 
 Williams, of Granville County. Here, too, were hard-riders and 
 sharpshooters, from Holston River, Powel's Valley, Botetourt, 
 Fincastle, and other parts of Virginia, commanded by Colonels 
 Campbell, Cleveland, Shelby and Sevier. Such were the different 
 bodies of mountaineers and backwoodsmen, suddenly drawing 
 together from various parts to the number of three thousand. 
 Ferguson, breaking up his quarters, therefore, pushed for the 
 British army, sending messengers ahead to apprise Cornwallis of 
 his danger. He had not long vacated Gilbert-town when the 
 motley host we have described thronged in. Some were on foot, 
 but the greater part on horseback. Some were in homespun garb; 
 but the most part in hunting-shirts, occasionally decorated with 
 colored fringe and tassels. Each man had his long rifle and hunt- 
 ing-knife, his wallet, or knapsack and blanket, and either a buck's 
 tail or sprig of evergreen in his hat. Here and there an officer 
 appeared in the Continental uniform of blue and buff, but most 
 preferred the half-Indian hunting-dress. There was neither tent 
 nor tent equipage, neither baggage nor baggage wagon to encum- 
 ber the movements of that extemporaneous host. Prompt war- 
 riors of the wilderness, with them it was "seize the weapon — 
 spring into the saddle — and away! " In going into action, it was 
 their practice to dismount, tie their horses to the branches of trees, 
 or secure them in some other way, so as to be at hand for use when 
 the battle was over, either to pursue a flying enemy, or make their 
 own escape by dint of hoof. Being told that PY-rguson had 
 retreated by the Cherokee road towards North Carolina, about 
 nine hundred of the hardiest and best mounted set out in urgent 
 pursuit ; leaving those who were on foot or weakly mounted, to 
 follow on as fast as possible. Col. William Campbell, of Virginia, 
 having come from the greatest distance, was allowed to have com- 
 mand of the whole party. In the evening they arrived at the 
 Cowpens, a grazing neighborhood. Here two beeves were killed 
 and given to be cut up, cooked and eaten as quick as possible. 
 Before those wdio were slow or negligent had half prepared their 
 repast, marching orders were given, and all were again in the 
 saddle. A rapid and irregular march was kept up all night in 
 murky darkness and through a heavy rain. About daybreak they 
 crossed Broad River. Not finding the enemy, they halted, lit their 
 
1 780. ] BA TTL E OF KING S MO UNTA IK. 47 1 
 
 fires, made their morning's meal, and took a brief repose. By 
 nine o'clock they were again on the march. The rainy night had 
 been succeeded by a bright October morning, and all were in high 
 spirits. Ferguson had taken post on the summit of King's Moun- 
 tain, about twelve miles distant. This mountain rises out of a 
 broken country, and is detached, on the north, from inferior heights 
 by a deep valley, so as to resemble an insulated promontory about 
 half a mile in length, with sloping sides, excepting on the north. 
 It was covered for the most part with lofty forest trees, free from 
 underwood, interspersed with boulders and masses of gray rock. 
 The forest was sufficiently open to give free passage to horsemen. 
 Dismounting at a small stream which runs through a ravine, the 
 Americans picketed their horses, formed themselves into three 
 divisions of nearly equal size, and prepared to stoim the heights 
 on three sides. Campbell, seconded by Shelby, was to lead the 
 center division; Sevier with McDowell the right, and Cleveland 
 and WilHams the left. The divisions were to scale the mountain 
 as nearly as possible at the same time. The fighting directions 
 w^ere in frontier style. When once in action, every one must act 
 for himself. The men were not to wait for the word of command, 
 but to take good aim and fire as fast as possible. When they 
 could no longer hold their ground, they were to get behind trees, 
 or retreat a little, and return to the fight, but never to go quite off. 
 Campbell allowed time for the flanking divisions to move to the 
 right and left along the base of the mountain, and take their 
 proper distances; he then pushed up in front with the center divi- 
 sion, he and Shelby, each at the head of his men. The first firing 
 was about four o'clock, when a picket was driven in by Cleveland 
 and Williams on the left, and pursued up the mountain. Camp-| 
 bell soon arrived within rifle distance of the crest of the mountain, 
 whence a sheeted fire of musketry was opened upon him. He 
 instantly deployed his men, posted them behind trees, and returned 
 the fire w^ith deadly effect. Ferguson, exasperated at being thus 
 hunted into this mountain fastness, had been chafing in his rocky 
 lair and meditating a furious sally. He now rushed out wath his 
 regulars, made an impetuous charge with the bayonet, and dislodg- 
 ing his assailants from their coverts, began to drive them down the 
 mountain, they not having a bayonet among them. He had not 
 proceeded far, when a flanking fire w^as opened by one of the other 
 divisions; facing about and attacking this he was again successful, 
 when a third fire was opened from another quarter. Thus, as fast 
 as one division gave way before the bayonet, another came to its 
 relief; while those who had given way rallied and returned to the 
 charge. The nature of the fighting ground was more favorable to 
 the rifle than the bayonet, and this was a kind of warfare in which the 
 frontier men were at home. The elevated position of the enemy also 
 was in favor of the Americans, securing them from the danger of 
 their own cross-fire. Ferguson found that he was completely in 
 the hunter's toils, beset on every side ; but he stood bravely at 
 bay, until the ground around him was strewed with the killed and 
 wounded, picked off by the fatal rifle. His men were at length 
 
472 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 broken, and retreated in confusion along the ridge. He galloped 
 from place to place endeavoring to rally them, when a rifle ball 
 brought him to the ground, and his white horse was seen careering 
 down the mountain without a rider. This closed the bloody fight ; 
 for Ferguson's second in command, seeing all further resistance 
 hopeless, hoisted a white flag, beat a parley and sued for quarters. 
 One hundred and fifty of the enemy had fallen and as many been 
 wounded; wliile of the Americans, but twenty were killed, though 
 a considerable number were wounded. Among those slain was 
 Col. James Williams, who had commanded the troops of Ninety- 
 Six, and proved himself one of the most daring of the partisan 
 leaders. Eight hundred and ten men were taken prisoners, one 
 hundred of whom were regulars, the rest royalists. The rancor 
 awakened by civil war was shown in the treatment of some of the 
 prisoners. A court-martial was held the day after the batde, and 
 a number of tory prisoners who had been bitter in their hostihty to 
 the American cause, and flagidous in their persecution of their 
 countrymen, were hanged. This was to revenge the death of 
 American prisoners hanged at Camden and elsewhere. The army 
 of mountaineers and fronder men did not attempt to follow up 
 their signal blow. They had no general scheme, no plan of cam- 
 paign ; it was the spontaneous rising of the sons of the soil, to 
 revenge it on its invaders, and, having effected their purpose, they 
 returned in triumph to their homes. They were little aware of the 
 importance of their achievement. The battle of King's Mountain, 
 inconsiderable as it was in the numbers engaged, turned the tide 
 of Southern warfare. The destruction of Ferguson and his corps 
 gave a complete check to the expedidon of Cofnwallis. He began 
 to fear for the safety of South Carolina, liable to such sudden 
 erupdons from the mountains; lest, while he was facing to the 
 north, these hordes of stark-riding warriors might throw themselves 
 behind him, and produce a popular combustion in the province he 
 had left. He resolved, therefore, to return with all speed to that 
 province and provide for its security. On the 14th of October he 
 commenced his retrograde and mordfying march, conducing it in 
 the night, and with such hurry and confusion, that nearly twenty 
 wagons, laden with baggage and supplies, were lost. As he pro- 
 ceeded, the rainy season set in; the brooks and rivers became 
 swollen, and almost impassable; the roads deep and miry; provis- 
 ions and forage scanty; the troops generally sickly, having no 
 tents. Cornwallis himself was seized with a bilious fever, which 
 obliged him to halt two days in the Catawba settlement, and after- 
 wards to be conveyed in a wagon, giving up the command to Lord 
 Rawdon, The Bridsh suffered as usual from the vengeance of an 
 outraged country, being fired upon from behind trees and other 
 coverts by the yeomanry; their sentries shot down at their encamp- 
 ments; their foraging pardes cut off. For two weeks were they 
 toiling tiirough deep roads, and a country cut up by water-courses, 
 witli the very elements arrayed against them. At length, after 
 fording the Catawba, where it was six hundred yards wide, and 
 three and a half deep, and where a handful of riflemen might have 
 
i/8i.] FRANCIS MARION THE SWAMP FOX. 473 
 
 held them in check, the army arrived at Winnsborough, in South 
 Carolina. 
 
 The victory at King's Mountain had set the partisan spirit 
 throughout the country in a blaze. Francis Marion was soon in 
 the field. He had been made a brigadier-general by Gov. Rut- 
 ledge, but his brigade, as it was called, was formed of neighbors 
 and friends, and was continually fluctuating in numbers. He was 
 nearly fifty years of age, and small of stature, but hardy, healthy, 
 and vigorous. Brave but not braggart, never avoiding danger, 
 but never rashly seeking it. Taciturn and abstemious; a strict 
 disciplinarian; careful of the lives of his men, but little mindful of 
 his own. Just in his dealings, free from everything selfish or mer- 
 cenary, and incapable of a meanness. He had his haunts and strong- 
 holds in the morasses of the Pedee and Black Rivers. His men 
 were hardy and abstemious as himself ; they ate their meat without 
 salt, often subsisted on potatoes, were scantily clad, and almost 
 destitute of blankets. Marion was full of stratagems and expedi- 
 ents. Sallying forth from his morasses, he would overrun the 
 lower districts, pass the Santee, beat up the small posts in the 
 vicinity of Charleston, cut up the communication between that city 
 and Camden; and having struck some signal blow, so as to rouse 
 the vengeance of the enemy, would retreat again into his fenny fast- 
 nesses. Hence the British gave him the bye name of the Swamp 
 Fox, but those of his countrymen who knew his courage, his lofti- 
 ness of spirit and spotless integrity, considered him the Bayard of 
 the South. Tarleton undertook to draw the swamp fox from his 
 qover. He marched cautiously down the east bank of the Wateree 
 with a body of dragoons and infantry in compact order. The fox, 
 however, kept close; he saw that the enemy w^as too strong for him. 
 Tartleton now changed his plan. By day he broke up his force 
 into small detachments or patrols, giving them orders to keep near 
 enough to each other to render mutual support if attacked, and to 
 gather together at night. The artifice had its effect. Marion sal- 
 lied forth from his cover just before daybreak to make an attack 
 upon one of these detachments, when, to his surprise, he found 
 himself close upon the British camp. Perceiving the snare that 
 had been spread for him, he made a rapid retreat. A close pur- 
 suit took place. For seven hours Marion was hunted from one 
 swamp and fastness to another; when an express came spurring 
 from Cornwallis, calling for the immediate services of Tarleton in 
 another quarter. Sumter was again in the field ! That indefatiga- 
 ble partisan having recruited a strong party in the mountainous 
 country, to which he retreated after his defeat on the Wateree, had 
 reappeared on the west side oT the Santee, repulsed a British party 
 sent against him, killing its leader; then, crossing Broad River, 
 had effected a junction with Colonels Clark and Brannan, and 
 now menaced the British posts in the district of Ninety-Six. Tar- 
 leton, advancing with his accustomed celerity, thought to surprise 
 Sumter on the Enoree River. The latter pushed across the river, 
 but was hotly pursued, and his rear-guard roughly handled. He 
 
474 LIFE CF WASH J XG TON. 
 
 now made for the Tyger River, noted for turbulence and rapidit>'; 
 Tarleton spurred forward in advance of his main body with one 
 hundred and seventy dragoons and eighty mounted men of the 
 infantry. Before five o'clock (Nov. 20) his advance guard overtook 
 ajid charged the rear of the Americans. Sumter took post on Black 
 Stock Kill, with a rivulet and rail fence in front, the Tyger River in 
 the rear and on tne right flank, and a large log barn on the left. The 
 barn was turned into a fortress, and a part of the force stationed in 
 it to fire through the apj^ertures between the logs. Tarleton halted 
 on an opposite height to await the arrival of his infantry, and a 
 part of his men dismounted to ease their horses. Sumter seized 
 this moment for an attack. He was driven back after some sharp 
 fighting. The enemy pursued, but were severely galled by the fire 
 from the log barn. Enraged at seeing his nien shot down, Tarle- 
 ton charged with his cavalry, but found it impossible to dislodge 
 the Americans from their rustic fortress. At the approach of 
 night he fell back to join his infantry, leaving the ground strewed 
 with his killed and wounded. The latter were treated with great 
 humanity by Sumter. The loss of the .Americans was only three 
 killed and four wounded. Sumter, who had received a severe 
 \vound in the breast, remained several hours on the field of action; 
 but crossed the Tyger River in the night. He was then placed on 
 a litter between tw o horses, and thus conducted across the country 
 by a few faithful adherents. The rest of his httle army dispersed 
 themselves tlirough the woods. 
 
 While the attention of the enemy was thus engaged by the 
 enterprises of Sumter and Marion and their swamp warriors, Gen. 
 Gates was gathering together the scattered fragments of his army 
 at Hillsborough. When all were collected, his whole force, exclu- 
 sive of militia, did not exceed fourteen hundred men. His troops, 
 disheartened by defeat, were in a forlorn state, without clothing, 
 without pay, and sometimes without provisions. His vanity was 
 completely cut down by his late reverses. He had lost, too, the 
 confidence of his cfiicers, and was unable to maintain disciphne 
 among his men. On the retreat of CornwaUis from Charlotte, he 
 advanced to that place t") make it his winter-quarters. Gen. 
 Greene arrived at Charlotte on the 2d of December. He had left 
 the Baron Steuben in Virginia to defend that State and procure 
 and send on reinforcements and stores for the Southern army. On 
 the day following his arrival, Greene took formal command. Con- 
 sulting with his officers as to the court of inquir>' on the conduct of 
 Gen. Gates, ordered by Congress, it was determined that there was 
 not a sufficient number of general officers in camp to sit upon it; 
 that the state of Gen. Gates's feelings, in consequence of the recent 
 death of an only son, disqualified him from entering upon the 
 task of his defence; and that it would be indelicate in the extreme 
 to press on him an investigadon, which his honor would not per- 
 mit him to defer. Greene, in a letter to Washington (Dec. 7th), 
 writes: "General Gates sets out to-morrow for the northward. 
 Many officers think very favorably of his conduct and that, when- 
 
1781.] GENERAL GREEAE SUPERSEDES GATES. 475 
 
 ever an inquiry takes place, he will honorably acquit himself." 
 Gates retired with a lightened heart to his farm in Berkeley County, 
 Virginia. 
 
 The whole force at Charlotte, when Greene took command, did 
 not much exceed twenty-three hundred men, and more than half 
 of them were militia. The state of the country in which he was 
 to act was equally discouraging. "It is so extensive," said he, 
 "and the powers of government so weak, that everybody does 
 as he pleases. The inhabitants are much divided in their political 
 sentiments, and the whigs and tories pursue each other with lit- 
 tle less than savage fury. The back country people are bold 
 and daring; but the people upon the sea-shore are sickly, and but 
 indifferent militia." A recent exploit had given some animation to 
 the troops. Lieut. -Col. Washington, detached with a troop of 
 light-horse to check a foraging paty of the enemy, scoured the 
 country within thirteen miles of Camden. Here he found a body 
 of loyalist militia strongly posted at Clermont, the seat of Colonel 
 Rugeley, their tory commander. They had ensconced themselves 
 in a large barn, built of logs, and had fortified it by a slight 
 intrenchment and a line of abatis. To attack it with cavalry 
 was useless. Col. Washington dismounted part of his troops to 
 appear hke infantry; placed on two wagon-wheels the trunk of a 
 pine-tree, shaped and painted to look like a field-piece, brought it 
 to bear upon the enemy, and, displaying his cavalry, sent in a flag 
 summoning the garrison to surrender instantly, on pain of having 
 their log castle battered about their ears. The garrison, to the 
 number of one hundred and twelve men, with Col. Rugeley at their 
 head, gave themselves up prisoners of war. 
 
 The first care of Gen. Greene was to reorganize his army, and 
 it soon began to assume what he termed a military complexion. 
 Finding the country round Charlotte exhausted by repeated forag- 
 ings, he separated the army into two divisions. One, about one 
 thousand strong, was commanded by Brig.-Gen. Morgan, of rifle 
 renown, and was composed of four hundred Continental infantry, 
 under Lieut.-Col. Howard of the Maryland line, two companies of 
 Virginia militia under Captains Tripplet and Tate, and one hun- 
 dred dragoons, under Lieut.-Col. Washington. With these Mor- 
 gan was detached towards the district of Ninety-Six, in South 
 Carolina, with orders to take a position near the confluence of the 
 Pacolet and Broad Rivers, and assemble the militia of the coun- 
 try. With the other division, Greene made a march of toilful 
 difficulty through a barren country to Hicks' Creek, in Chester- 
 field district, on the east side of the Pedee River, opposite the 
 Cheraw Hills. 
 
 As Washington beheld one hostile armanent after another wing- 
 ing its way to the South, and received apphcations from that quar- 
 ter for assistance which he had not the means to furnish, it became 
 painfully apparent to him, that the efforts to carry on the war had 
 exceeded the natural capabilities of the country. Its widely dif- 
 fused population, and the composition and temper of some of its 
 
4-6 LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 
 
 people, rendered it difficult to draw together its resources. Com- 
 merce was almost extinct; there was not sufficient natural wealth 
 on which to found a revenue ; paper currency had depreciated 
 through want of funds for its redemption, until it was nearly 
 worthless. The mode of supplying the army by assessing a pro- 
 portion of the productions of the earth, had proved ineffectual, 
 oppressive, and productive of an alaniiing opposition. Domestic 
 loans yielded but trifling assistance. Washington's earnest coun- 
 sels and entreaties were at length successful in determining Con- 
 gress to seek aid both in men and money from abroad. Accord- 
 ingly, on the 2Sth of December they commissioned Lieut.-Col. 
 John Laurens, special minister at the court of Versailles, to apply 
 for such aid. The situation he had held, as aid-de-camp to the 
 commander-in-chief, had given him an opportunity of observing 
 the course of affairs, and acquainting himself with the wants and 
 resources of the country. Washington advised him to solicit a loan 
 sufficiently large to be a foundation for substantial arrangements of 
 finance, to revive public credit, and give vigor to future operations; 
 — next to a loan of money, a naval force was to be desired, sufficient 
 to maintain a constant superiority on the American coast ; also addi- 
 tional succor in troops. He was to show the ample means pos- 
 sessed by the nation to repay the loan, from its comparative free- 
 dom from debt, and its vast and valuable tracts of unsettled lands, 
 the variety and fertility of its climates and soils, and its advantages 
 of every kind for a lucrative commerce, and rapid increase of 
 population and prosp)erity. 
 
 The first day of the New Year anived. The men were excited 
 by an extra allowance of ardent spirits. In the evening, at a pre- 
 concerted si_2:nal, a great part of the Pennsylvania line, non-com- 
 missioned officers included, turned out under arms, declaring their 
 intention to march to Philadelphia, and demand redress from Con- 
 gress. Wayne endeavored to pacify them; they were no longer to 
 be pacified bywords. He cocked his pistols; in an instant their 
 bayonets were at his breast. "We love, we respect you," cried 
 they, "but you are a dead man if you fire. Do not mistake us ; 
 we are not going to the enemy : were they now to come out, you 
 Avould see us fight under your orders with as much resolution and 
 alacrity as ever." In an attempt to suppress the mutiny there was 
 a bloody affray, in which numbers were wounded on both sides ; 
 among: whom were several officers. The mutineers, to the number 
 of about thineen hundred, seized upon six field-pieces, and set out 
 in the night for Philadelphia under command of their sergeants. 
 Wayne was net "Mad Anthony" on the present occasion. All 
 liis measures v.-ere taken with judgment and forecast. He sent 
 provisions after the mutineers, lest they should supply their wants 
 from the country' people by force. He sent a despatch with news 
 of the outbreak to Washington; and then set off after the muti- 
 neers, to seek ever>' occasion to exert a favorable influence over 
 them, Washington received Wayne's letter at his headquarters at 
 New Windsor on the 3d of January. He wrote to him, approving 
 of his intention to keep with the troops, and improve every favor- 
 
1/81.] MUTINY IN THE ARMY, 477 
 
 able interval of passion. His letter breathes that paternal spirit 
 with which he watched over the army; and tliat admirable moder- 
 ation mingled with discipUne with which he managed and moulded 
 their wayward moods. "Opposition," said he, "as it did not suc- 
 ceed in the first instance, cannot be effectual while the men remain 
 together, but will keep ahve resentment. I would therefore, 
 recommend it to you to cross the Delaware with them, draw from 
 them what they conceive to be their principal grievances, and 
 promise faithfully to represent to Congress and to the State the 
 substance of them, and endeavor to obtain a redress." How 
 clearly one reads in this letter that temperate and magnanimous 
 spirit which moved over the troubled waters of the Revolution, al- 
 layed the fury of the storms, and controlled everything into peace. 
 CHnton received intelligence at New York of the mutiny, and has- 
 tened to profit by it. Emissaries were despatched to the camp of 
 the mutineers, holding out offers of pardon, protection, and ample 
 pay,4f they would return to their allegiance to the crown. On 
 the 4th of Jan., although the rain poured in torrents, troops and 
 cannon were hurried on board of vessels of every description and 
 transported to Staten Island, Sir Henry accompanying them. 
 There they were to be held in readiness, either to land at Amboy 
 in the Jerseys, should the revolters be drawn in that direction, or 
 to make a dash at West Point, should the departure of Washing- 
 ton leave that post assailable. Gen. Wayne had overtaken the 
 insurgent troops on the 3d of January, at Middlebrook, and held con- 
 ferences with sergeants delegated from each regiment. They 
 appeared to be satisfied with the mode and promises of redress 
 held out to them ; but the main body of the mutineers persisted in 
 revolt, and proceeded on the next day to Princeton. The news 
 of the revolt caused great consternation in Philadelphia. A com- 
 mittee of Congress set off to meet the insurgents, accompanied by 
 Reed, the President of Pennsylvania, and one or two other officers, 
 and escorted by a city troop of horse. At this critical juncture, 
 two of Sir Henry's emissaries arrived in the camp, and delivered 
 to the leaders of the malcontents, a paper containing his seductive 
 proposals and promises. The mutineers, though openly arrayed 
 in arms against their government, spurned at the idea of turning 
 "Arnolds," as they termed it. The emissaries were seized and 
 conducted to Gen, Wayne, who placed them in confinement. 
 The propositions offered to the troops by President Reed were : — 
 To discharge all those who had enlisted indefinitely for three 
 years or during the war; the fact to be inquired into by three com- 
 missioners appointed by the executive — where the original enlist- 
 ment could not be produced in evidence, the oath of the soldier to 
 suffice. To give immediate certificates for the deficit in their pay 
 caused by the depreciation of the currency, and the arrearages to 
 be settled as soon as circumstances would permit. To furnish 
 them immediately with certain specified articles of clothing which 
 were most wanted. These propositions proving satisfactory, the 
 troops set out for Trenton, where the negotiation was concluded. 
 The two spies who had tampered with the fidelity of the troops 
 
478 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 were tried by a court-martial, found guilty, and hanged near Tren- 
 ton. On the 2oth of January, a part of the Jersey troops, sta- 
 tioned at Pompton, rose in arms, claiming the same terms just 
 yielded to the Pennsylvanians. In this instance, Washington 
 adopted a more rigorous course than in the other. The present 
 insurgents were mostly foreigners, for whom he felt' less sympathy 
 than for native troops. He was convinced too of the fidelity of 
 the troops under his immediate command, who were from the 
 Eastern States. A detachment from the Massachusetts line was 
 sent under Major-General Howe, who was instructed to compel 
 the mutineers to unconditional submission; to grant them no terms 
 while in aims, or in a state of resistance ; and on their surrender, 
 instantly to execute a few of the most active and incendiary lead- 
 ers. Howe had the good fortune, after a tedious night march, to 
 surprise the mutineers napping in their huts just at daybreak. 
 Five minutes only were allowed them to parade without their 
 arms and give up their ringleaders. This was instantly complied 
 with, and two of them were executed on the spot. The mutiny 
 was quelled, the officers resumed their command, and all things 
 were restored to order. Thus terminated an insurrection, which, 
 for a time, had spread alarai among the friends of American lib- 
 erty, and excited the highest hopes of its foes. The circumstances 
 connected with it had ultimately a beneficial effect in strengthen- 
 ing the confidence of those friends, by proving that, however the 
 Americans might quarrel with their own government, nothing 
 could again rally them under the royal standard. 
 
 A gi-eat cause of satisfaction to Washington was the ratification of 
 the articles of confederation between the States, which took place not 
 long after this agitating juncture. A set of articles had been submit- 
 ted to Congress by Dr. Franklin, as far back as 1775. A form had 
 been prepared and digested by a committee in 1776, and agreed 
 upon, with some modifications in 1777, but had ever since 
 remained in abeyance, in consequence of objections made by indi- 
 vidual States. The confederation was now complete, and Wash- 
 ington, in a letter to the President of Congress, congratulated 
 him and the body over which he presided, on an event long wished 
 for, and which he hoped would have the happiest effects upon the 
 politics of this country, and be of essential service to our cause in 
 Europe. It was, after all, an instrument far less efficacious than 
 its advocates had anticipated ; but it served an important purpose 
 in binding the States together as a nation, and keeping them from 
 falling asunder into individual powers, after the pressure of exter- 
 nal danger should cease to operate. 
 
 Benedict Arnold, now a brigadier-general in the enemy's service, 
 sailed from New York, Dec. 20th, with a detachment of seventeen 
 hundred British, German and refugee troops, to make an incursion 
 into Virginia, destroy the public magazines, and cooperate with 
 Cornwallis. His ships were tempest-tost and scattered, and half 
 of his cavalry horses and several of his guns had to be thrown 
 overboard. It was the close of the year when he anchored in 
 the Chesapeake. Virginia, at the time, was almost in a defence- 
 
1781.] THE TRAITOR IN VIRGINIA. 479 
 
 less state. Baron Steuben, who had the general command there, 
 had recently detached such of his regular troops as were clothed 
 and equipped, to the South to reinforce Gen. Greene. The 
 remainder, five or six hundred in number, were scarcely fit to 
 take the field. Gov. Jefferson, on hearing of the arrival of the 
 fleet, called out the militia from the neighboring counties; but 
 few could be collected on the spur of the moment, for the whole 
 country was terror-stricken and in confusion. Having land and 
 sea forces at his command, Arnold opened the new year with a 
 buccaneering ravage. Ascending James River with some small 
 vessels which he had captured, he landed on the 4th of January 
 with nine hundred men at Westover, about twenty-five miles 
 below Richmond, and pushed for the latter place, at that time 
 little more than a village, though the metropolis of Virginia. 
 Halting for the night within twelve miles of it, he advanced on 
 the following day with as much military parade as possible. 
 Gov. Jefferson got back by noon to Manchester, on the opposite 
 side of James River, in time to see Arnold's marauders march 
 into the town. Many of the inhabitant's had fled to the country; 
 some stood terrified spectators on the hills ; not more than two 
 hundred men were in arms for the defence of the place; these, 
 after firing a few volleys, retreated to Richmond and Shockoe 
 Hills, Avhence they were driven by the cavalry, and Arnold had 
 possession of the capital. He sent some of the citizens to the 
 governor, offering to spare the town, provided his ships might come 
 up James River to be laden with tobacco from the warehouses. 
 His offer was indignantly rejected, whereupon fire was set to the 
 public edifices, stores, and workshops; private houses w^ere pil- 
 laged, and a great quantity of tobacco consumed. While this 
 vvas going on, Col. Simcoe had been detached to Westham, six 
 miles up the river, where he destroyed a cannon foundry and 
 sacked a public magazine; broke off the trunnions of the can- 
 non, and threw into the river the powder which he could not 
 carry away, and, after effecting a complete devastation, rejoined 
 Arnold at Richmond, which during the ensuing night resounded 
 with the drunken orgies of the soldiery. Arnold reembarked at 
 Westover and fell slowly down the river, landing occasionally to 
 burn, plunder, and destroy; pursued by Steuben with a few Con- 
 tinental troops and all the militia that he could muster. Gen. Nel- 
 son, also, with similar levies opposed him. Lower down the river 
 some skirmishing took place, a few of Arnold's troops were killed 
 and a number wounded, but he made his way to Portsmouth, 
 opposite Norfolk, where he took post on the 20th of January, and 
 proceeded to fortify. Steuben collected from various parts of the 
 country all the force that could be mustered; he so disposed it at 
 different points as to hem the traitor in, and prevent his making 
 further incursions. 
 
 Washington had repeatedly, in his communications to Congress, 
 attributed much of the distresses and disasters of the war to the 
 congressional mode of conducting business through committees 
 and •' boards," thus causing irregularity and delay, preventing 
 
48o LIFE OF \\ 'ASHL\G TOX. 
 
 secrecy and augmenting expense. He was greatly rejoiced, there- 
 fore, when Congress decided to appoint heads of departments; 
 secretaries of foreign affairs, of war and of marine, and a super- 
 intendent of finance. 
 
 The stress of war was at present shifted to the South. General 
 Greene, in the latter part of December, was posted with one divi- 
 sion of his army on the east side of the Pedee River in North Car- 
 ohna, having detached Gen. Morgan with the other division, one 
 thousand strong, to take post near the confluence of the Pacolet 
 and Broad Rivers in South Carohna. Comwallis lay encamped 
 about seventy miles to the southwest of Greene, at Winnsborough 
 in Fairfield district. Gen. Leshe had recently arrived at Charles- 
 ton from Virginia, and was advancing to reinforce him with fifteen 
 hundred men. His plan was to leave Lord Rawdon at the central 
 post of Camden with a considerable body of troops to keep all 
 quiet, while his lordship by rapid marches would throw himself 
 "between Greene and Virginia, cut him off from all reinforcements 
 in that quarter, and oblige him either to make battle with his pres- 
 ent force, or retreat precipitately from North Carolina. Morgan 
 "had passed both the Catawba and Broad Rivers, and was about 
 seventy miles miles to the northwest of Cornwallis on his way to 
 the district of Ninety-Six. Tarleton was sent in quest of him, with 
 about eleven hundred choice troops. His instructions were to pass 
 Broad River for the protection of Ninety-Six, and either to strike 
 at Morgan and push him to the utmost ; or to drive him out of the 
 countr)'. Comwallis moved with his main force on the 12th of 
 December, in a northwest direction between the Broad River and 
 the Catawba, leading: toward the back countr\'. This was for the 
 purpose of crossing the great rivers at their fords near their 
 sources; for they are fed by innumerable petty streams which drain 
 the mountains, and are apt in the winter time, when storms of rain 
 prevail, to swell and become impassable below their forks, Tarle- 
 ton, after several days' hard marching, came upon the traces of 
 Morgan, who was posted on the north bank of the Pacolet, to 
 guard the passes of that river. His force was nearly equal in 
 number to that of Tarleton, but, in point of cavalr)' and discipline, 
 vastly inferior. ComwalHs, too, was on his left, and might get in 
 his rear; checking his impulse, therefore, to dispute the passage of 
 the Pacolet, he crossed that stream and retreated toward the upper 
 fords of Broad River. Tarleton reached the Pacolet on the evem 
 ing of the 15th. After some manoeuvring to deceive his adversary, 
 he crossed the river before daylight at Eastenvood shoals. There 
 was no opposition. Morgan was in full march towards Broad 
 River. Tarleton now pressed on in pursuit. Morgan had been 
 urged by his officers to retreat across Broad River, which was near 
 by, and make for the mountainous countr\", but, closely pressed as 
 he was, he feared to be overtaken while fording the river, and 
 while his troops v.-ere fatigued, and in confusion. The place where 
 "he came to halt, was known in the early grants by the name of 
 Hannah's Cowpens, being part of a grazing establishment of a 
 man named Hannah. It was in an open wood, favorable to the 
 
1/81.] BATTLE OF THE COWPENS. 481 
 
 action of cavalry. There were two eminences of unequal height, 
 and separated from each other by an interval about eighty yards 
 wide. To the first eminence, which was the highest, there was an 
 easy ascent of about three hundred yards. On these heights Mor- 
 gan had posted himself. His flanks were unprotected, and the 
 Broad River, running parallel on his rear, about six miles distant, 
 and winding round on the left, would cut off retreat, should the day 
 prove unfortunate. The ground, in the opinion of tacticians, was 
 not well chosen; Morgan, a veteran bush-fighter, vindicated it 
 in after times in his own characteristic way. " Had I crossed the 
 river, one-half of the militia would have abandoned me. Had a 
 swamp been in view, they would have made for it. As to cover- 
 ing my wings, I knew the foe I had to deal with, and that there 
 would be nothing but downright fighting. As to a retreat, I wished 
 to cut off all hope of one. Should Tarleton surround me with his 
 cavalry, it would keep my troops from breaking away, and make 
 them depend upon their bayonets. When men are forced to 
 fight, they will sell their lives dearly." In arranging his troops 
 for action, he drew out his infantry in two lines. The first was 
 composed of the North and South Carolina militia, under Col. 
 Pickens, having an advanced corps of North Carolina and Geor- 
 gia volunteer riflemen. This line was charged to wait until the 
 enemy were within dead shot; then to take good aim, fire two 
 volleys and fall back. The second line, drawn up a moderate 
 distance in the rear of the first, and near the brow of the main 
 eminence, was composed of Col. Howard's light-infantry and the 
 Virginia riflemen; all Continental troops. About a hundred and 
 fifty yards in the rear of the second line, and on the slope of the 
 lesser eminence, was Col. Washington's troop of cavalry, about 
 eighty strong; with about fifty mounted Carolinian volunteers, 
 under Major McCall, armed with sabres and pistols. It was 
 about eight o'clock in the morning (Jan. 17th), when Tarleton 
 came up. He led on his first line, which rushed shouting to the 
 attack. The North Carolina and Georgia riflemen in the advance, 
 delivered their fire with effect, and fell back to the flanks of Pick- 
 ens' militia. These waited until the enemy were within fifty yards, 
 and then made a destructive volley, but soon gave way before the 
 push of the bayonet. The British infantry pressed up to the sec- 
 ond line, while forty of their cavalry attacked it on the right, seek- 
 ing to turn its flank. Col. Howard made a brave stand, and for 
 some time there was a bloody conflict; his troops were falling into 
 confusion, when Morgan rode up and ordered them to retreat over 
 the hill, where Col. Washington's cavalry were hurried forward for 
 their protection. The British rushed forward irregularly in pursuit 
 of what they deemed a routed foe. To their astonishment, they 
 were met by Col. Washington's dragoons, who spurred on them 
 impetuously, while Howard's infantry facing about, gave them an 
 effective volley of musketry, and then charged with the bayonet. 
 The enemy now fell into complete confusion. Some few artillery- 
 men attempted to defend their guns, but were cut down or taken 
 prisoners, and the cannon and colors captured. A general flight 
 16 
 
482 . LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 took place. Tarleton endeavored to bring his legion cavalry into 
 action to retrieve the day. They had stood aloof as a reserve, 
 and now, infected by the panic, turned their backs upon their com' 
 mander, and galloped off through the woods, riding over the flying 
 infantry. Fourteen of his officers, however, and forty of his dra- 
 goons, remained true to him; with these he attempted to withstand 
 the attack of Washington's cavalry, and a fierce mek'e took place; 
 but on the approach of Howard's infantry Tarleton gave up all for 
 lost, and spurred off with his few but faithful adherents, trusting to 
 the speed of their horses for safety. They made for Hamilton's 
 ford on Broad River, thence to seek the main army under Corn- 
 ■wallis. The loss of the British in this action was ten officers and 
 above one hundred men killed, two hundred wounded, and 
 between five and six hundred rank and file made prisoners; while 
 the Americans had but twelve men killed and sixty wounded. 
 The disparity of loss shows how complete had been the confusion 
 and defeat of the enemy. The spoils taken by Morgan were two 
 field-pieces, two standards, eight hundred muskets, one travelling 
 forge, thirty-five Avagons, seventy negroes, upwards of one hun- 
 dred dragoon-horses, and all the music. Leaving Col. Pickens 
 ■with a body of militia under the protection of a flag, to bury the 
 dead and provide for the m oundcd of both armies, he set out the 
 same day about noon, Avitli his prisoners and spoils. His object 
 was to get to the Catawba before he could be intercepted by Corn- 
 wallis, who lay nearer than he did to the fords of that river. Before 
 nightfall he crossed Broad River at the Cherokee ford, and halted 
 for a few hours on its northern bank. Before dayhght of the i8th 
 he was again on the march. Col. Washington, who had been in 
 pursuit of the enemy, rejoined him in the course of the day. He 
 put his prisoners in charge of the cavalry, with orders to move 
 higher up into the country and cross the main Catawba at the 
 Island ford; while he himself pushed forward for that river by the 
 direct route. Cornwallis, Jan. 17th, was at his camp on Turkey 
 Creek, confidently waiting for tidings from Tarleton of a new tri- 
 umph, when, towards evening, some of his routed dragoons came 
 straggling into camp, haggard and forlorn, to tell the tale of his 
 defeat. It was a thunder-stroke. Tarleton defeated ! and by the 
 rude soldier he had been so sure of entrapping ! On the 19th, 
 having been reinforced by Leslie, Cornwallis moved towards 
 King's Creek, and tnence in the direction ot King's Mountain, 
 imtil informed of Morgan's retreat toward the Catawba. He now 
 altered his course in that direction, and, trusting that Morgan, 
 encumbered, as he supposed him to be, oy prisoners and spoils, 
 might be overtaken before he could cross that river, detached apart 
 of his force, without baggage, in pursuit of him, while he followed 
 on Avith the remainder. Morgan succeeded in reaching the 
 Catawba and crossing it in the evening, just two hours before those 
 in pursuit of him arrived on its banks. A heavy rain came on and 
 fell all night, and by daybreak the river was so swollen as to 
 be impassable. Cornwallis was encumbered by an immense 
 train of baggage; the roads were through deep led clay, and the 
 
I78i.] GEN. GREENE'S FABIAN TACTICS. 483 
 
 country was cut up by streams and morasses. It was not until the 
 25th, that he assembled his whole force at Ramsour's Mills, on the 
 Little Catawba, as the south fork of that river is called, and learnt 
 that Morgan had crossed the main stream. Two days were spent 
 by him at Ramsour's Mills, in destroying all such baggage and 
 stores as could possibly be spared. He was preparing for a trial 
 of speed, where it was important to carry as light weight as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Gen. Greene was gladdened by a letter from Morgan, written 
 shortly after his defeat of Tarleton, and transmitted the news to 
 Washington with his own generous comments. " The victory was 
 complete," writes he, " and the action glorious. The brilliancy 
 and success with which it was fought, does the highest honor to 
 the American arms, and adds splendor to the character of the gen- 
 eral and his officers." Greene left General Huger in command of 
 the division on the Pedee, with orders -to hasten on by forced 
 marches to Salisbury, to join the other division ; in the mean- 
 time he set off on horseback for Morgan's camp, attended merely 
 by a guide, an aide-de-camp, and a sergeant's guard of dragoons. 
 It was a hard ride of upwards of a hundred miles through a rough 
 country. On the last day of January he reached Morgan's camp 
 at Sherrard's ford on the east side of the Catawba. The British 
 army lay on the opposite side of the river. He was aware of their 
 ill-provided state, from the voluntary destruction of their wagons, 
 tents and baggage. Indeed, when he first heard of this measure, on 
 his arriving at Sherrard's ford, he had exclaimed: " Then Corn- 
 wallis is ours." His plan was to tempt the enemy with the pros- 
 pect of a battle, but continually to elude one ; to harass them by a 
 long pursuit, draw them higher into the country, and gain time for 
 the division advancing under Huger to join him. It was the 
 Fabian policy that he had learnt under Washington, of whom he 
 prided himself on being a disciple. He ordered Morgan to move 
 off silently with his division, on the evening of the 31st, and to 
 press his march all night. 
 
 Cornwallis set out for McGowan's, a private and unfrequented 
 ford, with the main body of his army, at one o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, Jan. 31st. The night was dark and rainy. He had to make 
 his way through a wood and swamp where there was no road. 
 His artillery stuck fast. The line passed on without them. It was 
 near daybreak by the time the head of the column reached the 
 ford. To their surprise, they beheld numerous camp fires on the 
 opposite bank. The ford was guarded. Davidson was there with 
 three hundred mounted riflemen. Cornwallis would have waited 
 for his artillery, but the rain was still falling, and might render the 
 river unfordable. At that place the Catawba was nearly five hun- 
 dred yards wide, about three feet deep, very rapid, and full of 
 large stones. The troops entered the river in platoons, to support 
 each other against the current, and were ordered not to fire until 
 they should gain the opposite bank. The noise of the water and 
 the darkness covered their movements until they were nearly half- 
 way across, when they were descried by an American sentinel. 
 
484 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Col. Hall, of the the light-infantry of the guards led the way 
 directly across the river ; whereas the true ford inclined diago- 
 nally further down. Hall had to pass through deeper water, 
 but he reached a part of the bank where it was unguarded. 
 The American pickets had to deliver a distant and slanting 
 fire. Three of the British were killed, and thirty-six wounded. 
 Col. Hall was shot down as he ascended the bank. The 
 horse on which Cornwallis rode was wounded, but the brave 
 animal carried his lordship to the shore, where he sank under him. 
 The steed of Brig. -Gen. O'Hara rolled over with him into the 
 water, and Gen. Leslie's horse was borne away by the tumultuous 
 current and with difficulty recovered. Gen. Davidson hastened 
 with his men towards the place where the British were landing. 
 The latter formed as soon as they found themselves on firm ground, 
 charged Davidson's men before he had time to get them in order, 
 killed and wounded about forty, and put the rest to flight. Gen. 
 Davidson was killed just as he was mounting his horse. It was 
 not until after midnight that Greene heard of the dispersion 
 of the militia, and of the death of Davidson. He hastened to 
 rejoin Morgan, who with his division was pushing forward for the 
 Yadkin, first sending orders to Gen. Huger to conduct the other 
 division by the most direct route to Guilford Court-house, where 
 the forces were to be united. It was a dreary ride. At 
 mid-day he alighted, weary and travel-stained, at the inn at 
 Salisbury, where the army physician who had charge of the 
 sick and wounded prisoners received him at the door, and in- 
 quired after his well-being. *' Fatigued, hungry, alone, and 
 penniless," was Greene's heavy-hearted reply. The landlady, 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Steele, overheard his desponding words. While 
 he was seated at table, she entered the room, closed the 
 door, and drawing from under her apron two bags of money, 
 which she had carefully hoarded in those precarious times, "Take 
 these,'* said the noble-hearted woman ; "you will want them, and 
 I can do without them." This is one of the numberless instances 
 of the devoted patriotism of our women during the Revolution. 
 Their patriotism was apt to be purer and more disinterested than 
 that of the men. Cornwallis, after crossing the Catawba, waited 
 for his wagons and artillery, which had remained on the otlier side 
 in the woods; so that by nightfall of the ist of Febiiiary he was 
 not more than five miles on the road to Salisbury. Eager to come; 
 up with the Americans, he mounted some of the infantry upon the 
 baggage horses, joined them to the cavalry, and sent the whole 
 forward under Gen. O'Hara. They arrived on the banks of the 
 Yadkin at night, between the 2d and 3d of February, just in time 
 to capture a few wagons lingering in the rear of the American army. 
 The rain had overflooded the ford by which che American cavalry 
 had passed. Cornwallis took his course up the south side of the Yad- 
 kin, and crossed by what is still called the Shallow i"ord. Greene 
 continued on unmolested to Guilford Court-house, where he Avas 
 joined by Gen. Huger and his division on the 9th. His army num- 
 bered but two thousand and thirty-six, rank and file, fit for duty. 
 
I78i.] A RACE OF TWO HUNDRED MILES. 485 
 
 Of these upwards of six hundred were mihtia. Cornwalhs had from 
 twenty-five hundred to three thousand men, inchiding three hun- 
 dred cavahy, all thoroughly disciphned and well equipped. The 
 great object of Greene now was to get across the river Dan, and 
 throw himself into Virginia. With the reinforcements and assist- 
 ance he might there expect to find, he hoped to effect the salvation 
 of the South, and prevent the dismemberment of the Union. The 
 object of Cornwalhs was to get between him and Virginia, force him 
 to a combat before he could receive those reinforcements, or enclose 
 him in between the great rivers on the west, the sea on the east, and 
 the two divisions of the British army under himself and Lord Raw- 
 don on the north and south. Great abilities were shown by the 
 commanders on either side at this momentous trial of activity and 
 skill. It was a long and severe march for both armies, through a 
 wild and rough country, thinly peopled, cut up by streams, partly 
 covered by forests, along deep and frozen roads, under drenching 
 rains, without tents at night, and with scanty supplies of provisions. 
 The British suffered the least, for they were well equipped and com- 
 fortably clad ; whereas the poor Americans were badly off for 
 clothing, and many of them without shoes. The patriot armies of 
 the Revolution, however, were accustomed in their winter marches 
 to leave evidences of their hardships in bloody foot-prints. Greene, 
 with the main body, reached the banks of the river Dan, and suc- 
 ceeded in crossing over with ease in the course of a single day at 
 Boyd's and Irwin's ferries. Col. Williams, with the residue of the 
 army, encamped as usual, in the evening, at a wary distance in 
 front of the enemy, but stole a march upon them after dark, leaving 
 his camp fires burning. He pushed on all night, arrived at the 
 ferry in the morning of the 15th, having marched forty miles with- 
 in the last four and twenty hours ; and made such despatch in cross- 
 ing, that his last troops had landed on the Virginia shore by the 
 time the astonished enemy arrived on the opposite bank. Nothing, 
 according to their own avowal, could surpass the grief and vexation 
 of the British at discovering, on their arrival at Boyd's ferry, " that 
 all their toils and exertions had been vain, and that all their 
 hopes were frustrated." 
 
 For a day the two armies lay panting within sight of each other 
 on the opposite banks of the river, which had put an end to the 
 race. In a letter to Thomas Jefferson, (Feb. 14th) Greene writes: 
 "On the Dan River, almost fatigued to death, having had aretreat 
 to conduct of upwards of two hundred miles, manoeuvring con- 
 stantly in the face of the enemy to give time for the militia to turn 
 out and get off our stores." And to Washington he writes (Feb. 15), 
 " Lord Cornwalhs has been at our heels from day to day ever since 
 we left Guiford, and our movements from thence to this place have 
 been of the most critical kind, having a river in our front and the 
 enemy in our rear." North Carolina was in a state of the utmost 
 disorder and confusion ; Cornwalhs thought it better to remain in 
 it for a time, and profit by having compelled Greene to abandon it. 
 He put his troops once more in motion on the 18th, along the road 
 by which he had pursued Greene. This changed the game. Lee, 
 
486 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with his legion, strengthened by two veteran Maryland companies, 
 and Pickens, with a corps of South Carolina militia, all light troops, 
 were transported across the Dan in the boats, with orders to gain 
 the front of Cornwallis, hover as near as safety would permit, cut 
 off his intercourse with the disaffected parts of che country, and 
 check the rising of the royalists. " If we can but delay him a day 
 or two," said Greene, "he must be ruined." Meanwhile, he re- 
 mained with his main force on the northern bank of the Dan, 
 ready to cross at a moment's warning. On the 20th, Cornwallis 
 took post at Hillsborough. Here he issued a proclamation, invit- 
 ing all his majesty's loyal subjects to hasten to his standard with 
 their arms and ten days' provisions, to assist in suppressing the 
 remains of the rebellion, and reestablishing good order and con- 
 stitutional government. These appeals produced but little effect on 
 the people of the surrounding districts. Many hundreds rode into 
 camp to talk over the proclamation, inquire the news of the day, 
 and take a view of the king's troops. The generality seemed 
 desirous of peace, but averse from any exertion to procure it. 
 They acknowledged that the Continentals had been chased out of 
 the province, but apprehended they would soon return. Greene 
 saw that if Cornwallis were allowed to remain undisturbed, he 
 would soon have complete command of North Carolina ; he boldly 
 deteiTnined, therefore, to recross the Dan at all hazards with the 
 scanty force at his command, and give his lordship check. In this 
 spirit he broke up his camp and crossed the river on the 23d. His 
 reappearance disconcerted the schemes of Lord Cornwallis. On 
 the 26th he abandoned Hillsborough, threw himself across the 
 Haw, and encamped near Alamance Creek, one of its principal 
 tributaries, in a country favorable to supplies and with atory popu- 
 lation. His position was commanding, at the point of concurrence 
 of roads from Salisbury, Guilford, High Rockford, Cross Creek, 
 and Hillsborough. It covered also the communication with 
 Wilmington, where a depot of military stores, so important to his 
 half-destitute army, had recently been established. Greene, with 
 his main army, took post about fifteen miles above him, on the 
 heights between Troublesome Creek and Reedy Fork, one of the 
 tributaries of the Haw. He rarely lay more than two days in a 
 place, and kept his light troops under Pickens and Wilhams be- 
 tween him and the enemy ; hovering about the latter ; intercepting 
 his intelligence; attacking his foraging parties, and striking at his 
 flanks whenever exposed. The country being much of a wilderness, 
 obliged both parties to be on the alert ; but the Americans, accus- 
 tomed to bush-fighting, were not easily surprised. Greene's long- 
 expected reinforcements arrived on the loth, having been hurried 
 on by forced marches. They consisted of a brigade of Virginia 
 militia, under Gen. Lawson, two brigades of North Carolina militia, 
 under Gens. Butler and Eaton, and four hundred regulars, enlisted 
 for eighteen months. His whole effective force amounted to four 
 thousand two hundred and forty-three foot, and one hundred and 
 sixty-one cavalry. Of his infantry, not quite two thousand were 
 regulars, and of these, three-fourths were new levies. His force 
 
J78i.] BATTLE OF GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 487 
 
 nearly doubled in number that of Cornwallis, which did not exceed 
 two thousand four hundred men ; but many of Greene's troops were 
 raw and inexperienced, and had never been in battle; those of the 
 enemy were veterans, schooled in warfare, and, as it were, welded 
 together by campaigning in a foreign land, where their main safety 
 consisted in standing by each other. Greene determined to accept 
 the battle which had so long been offered. The corps of light 
 troops, under Williams, which had rendered such efficient service, 
 was now incorporated with the main body, and all detachments 
 were ordered to assemble at Guilford, within eight miles of the 
 enemy, where he encamped on the 14th. Cornwallis trusted in his 
 well-seasoned veterans, and detennined to attack Greene in his en- 
 campment, now that he seemed disposed for a general action. To 
 provide against the possibility of a retreat, he sent his carriages and 
 baggage to Bell's Mills, on Deep River, and set out at daybreak 
 on the 15th for Guilford. Within four miles of that place, near the 
 New Garden Meeting-house, Tarleton with the advanced guard of 
 cavalry, infantry, and yagers, came upon the American advance- 
 guard, composed of Lee's partisan legion, and some mountaineers 
 and Virginia militia. Tarleton and Lee were well matched in 
 military prowess, and the skirmish between them was severe. Lee's 
 horses, being from Virginia and Pennsylvaina, were superior in 
 weight and strength to those of his opponent, which had been 
 chiefly taken from plantations in South Carolina. The latter were 
 borne down by a charge in close column; several of their riders 
 were dismounted, and killed or taken prisoners. Tarleton, seeing 
 that his weakly mounted men fought to a disadvantage, sounded a 
 retreat ; Lee endeavored to cut him off: a general conflict of the 
 vanguards, horse and foot, ensued, when the appearance of the 
 main body of the enemy obliged Lee, in his turn, to retire with 
 precipitation. During this time, Greene was preparing for action 
 on a woody eminence, a little more than a mile south of Guilford 
 Court-house. He had drawn out his troops in three lines. The 
 first, composed of North Carohna miUtia, volunteers and riflemen, 
 under Generals Butler and Eaton, was posted behind a fence, with 
 an open field in front, and woods on the flanks and in the rear. 
 About three hundred yards behind this, was the second line, com- 
 posed of Virginia militia, under Generals Stevens and Lawson, 
 drawn up across the road, and covered by a wood. The third line, 
 about four hundred yards in the rear of the second, was composed 
 of Continental troops or regulars; those of Virginia under Gen. Huger 
 on the right, those of Maryland under Col. Williams on the left. 
 Col, Washington with a body of dragoons, Kirkwood's Delaware 
 infantry, and a battalion of Virginia militia covered the right flank ; 
 Lee's legion, with the Virginia riflemen under Col. Campbell, cov- 
 ered the left. Two six-pounders were in the road, in advance of the 
 first line ; two field-pieces with the rear-line near the court-house, 
 where Gen. Greene took his station. About noon the head of the 
 British army was descried advancing spiritedly from the south along 
 the Salisbury road, (which passed though the centre of the place,) 
 and defiling into the fields. A cannonade was opened from the two 
 
488 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 six-pounders, in front of the first American line. It was answered 
 by the British artillery. Neither produced much effect. The 
 enemy now advanced coolly and steadily in three columns; the 
 Hessians and Highlanders under Gen. Leslie, on the right, the 
 Royal artillery and guards in the center, and Webster's brigade on 
 the left. The North Carolinians, who formed the first line, waited 
 until the enemy were within one hundred and fifty yards, when, 
 agitated by their martial array and undaunted movement, they be- 
 gan to fall into confusion ; some fired off their pieces without taking 
 aim ; others threw them down, and took to flight. A volley from 
 the foe, a shout, and a charge of the bayonet, completed their dis- 
 comfiture. Some fled to the woods, others fell back upon the 
 Virginians, who formed the second line. Gen, Stevens, who com- 
 manded the latter, ordered his men to open and let the fugidves 
 pass, pretending that they had orders to retire. He had taken care, 
 however, to post forty riflemen in the rear of his own line with 
 orders to fire upon any one who should leave his post. Under his 
 spirited command and example, the Virginians kept their ground 
 and fought bravely. The action became much broken up and 
 diversified by the extent of the ground. The thickness of the 
 woods impeded the movements of the cavalry. The reserves on 
 both sides were called up. The British bayonet again succeeded; 
 the second line gave way, and Gen. Stevens, who had kept the 
 field for some time, after being wounded in the thigh by a musket- 
 ball, ordered a retreat. The enemy pressed with increasing ardor 
 against the third line, composed of Continental troops, and sup- 
 ported by Col. Washington's dragoons and Kirkwood's Delawares. 
 Greene counted on these to retrieve the day. They were regulars; 
 they were fresh, and in perfect order. He rode along the line, 
 calling to them to stand firm, and give the enemy a warm recep- 
 tion. The first Maryland regiment which was on the right wing, 
 was attacked by Col. Webster, with the British left. It stood the 
 shock bravely, and being seconded by some Virginia troops, and 
 Kirkwood's Delawares, drove Webster across a ravine. The sec- 
 ond Maryland regiment was not so successful. Impetuously at- 
 tacked by Col. Stewart, with a battaHon of the guards, and a 
 company of grenadiers, it faltered, gave way, and fled abandoning 
 two field-pieces, which were seized by the enemy. Stewart was 
 pursuing, when the first regiment, which had driven Webster 
 across the ravine, came to the rescue with fixed bayonets, while 
 Col. Washington spurred up with his cavalry. The fight now was 
 fierce and bloody. Stewart was slain ; the two field-pieces were 
 retaken, and the enemy in their turn gave way and were pursued 
 with slaughter; a destructive fire of grape-shot from the enemy's 
 artillery checked the pursuit. Two regiments approached on the 
 right and left ; Webster recrossed the ravine and fell upon Kirk- 
 wood's Delawares. There was intrepid fighting in different parts 
 of the field ; but Greene saw that the day was lost ; there was no 
 retrieving the effect produced by the first flight of the North Caro- 
 linans. Unwilling to risk the utter destruction of his army, he 
 directed a retreat, which was made in good order, but they had to 
 
I78i.] GREENE PURSUES THE BRITISH, 489 
 
 leave their artillery on the field, most of the horses having been 
 killed. The British were too much cut up and fatigued to follow 
 up their victory. Two regiments with Tarleton's cavalry attempted 
 a pursuit, but were called back. Efforts were made to collect the 
 wounded of both armies, but they were dispersed over so wide a 
 space, among woods and thickets, that night closed before the task 
 was accomphshed. It was a night of unusual darkness, with tor- 
 rents of rain. The army was destitute of tents ; there were not 
 sufficient houses in the vicinity to receive the wounded : pro- 
 visions were scanty ; many had tasted very little food for the last 
 two days ; comforts were out of the question. Nearly fifty of the 
 wounded sank under their aggravated miseries, and expired before 
 morning. The cries of the disabled and dying, who ramnained on 
 the field of battle, during the night, exceeded all description. The 
 loss of the Americans in this hard-fought affair, by their official 
 returns, made immediately after the action, give little more than 
 four hundred killed and wounded, and between eight and nine 
 hundred missing ; the loss of the enemy, even if numerically less, 
 was far more fatal, and it completely maimed him ; ninety-three 
 had fallen, four hundred and thirteen were wounded, and twenty- 
 six missing. Among the killed and wounded were several officers 
 of note. Thus, one-fourth of CornwalUs' army was either killed 
 or disabled ; his troops were exhausted by fatigue and hunger ; his 
 camp was encumbered by the wounded. His victory, in fact, was 
 almost as ruinous as a defeat. Greene lay for two days within ten 
 miles of him, gathering up his scattered troops. He had imbibed 
 the spirit of Washington, and remained undismayed by hardships 
 or reverses. Writing to the latter, he says; "Lord Cornwallis 
 will not give up this country without being soundly beaten. I am 
 in hopes, by little and little, to reduce him in time. Virginia has 
 given me every support I could wish or expect, and nothing has 
 contributed more to this, than the prejudice of the people in favor 
 of your Excellency." Cornwallis set out, on the third day after 
 the action, by easy marches, for Cross Creek, otherwise called the 
 Haw, an eastern branch of Cape Fear River, where was a settle- 
 ment of Scottish Highlanders. Here he expected to be plentifully 
 supplied with provisions, and to have his sick and wounded well 
 taken care of. Hence, too, he could open a communication by 
 Cape Fear River, with Wilmington, and obtain from the depot 
 recently established there, such supplies as the country about Cross 
 Creek did not afford. Greene followed him, determined to bring 
 him again to action ; and presenting the singular spectacle of the 
 vanquished pursuing the victor. His troops, however, suffered 
 greatly in this pursuit from wintry weather, deep, wet, clayey roads, 
 and scarcity of provisions, the country through which they 
 marched being completely exhausted ; but they harassed the ene- 
 my's rear-guard with frequent skirmishes. On the 28th, he arrived 
 at Ramsey's Mills, on Deep River, hard on the traces of Cornwal- 
 lis, who had left the place a few hours previously with such pre- 
 cipitation, that several of his wounded, who had died while on the 
 march, were left behind unburied. Several fresh quarters of beef 
 
490 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 had likewise been forgotten, and were seized upon with eagerness 
 by the hungry soldiery. Such had been the urgency of the pur- 
 suit this day, that many of the American troops sank upon the 
 road exhausted with fatigue. At Deep River, he was brought to a 
 stand. CornwalHs had broken down the bridge by which he had 
 crossed ; and further pursuit for the present was impossible. Tha 
 constancy of the militia now gave way. They were in want of 
 everything, for the retreating enemy left a famished country behind 
 him. The term for which most of them had enlisted was expired, 
 and they now demanded their discharge. The demand was just 
 and reasonable, and, after striving in vain to shake their determi- 
 nation, Greene felt compelled to comply with it. His force thus 
 reduced, iOwould be impossible to pursue the enemy further. The 
 halt he was obliged to make to collect provisions and rebuild the 
 bridge, would give them such a start as to leave no hope of over- 
 taking them should they continue their retreat ; nor could he fight 
 them upon equal terms should they make a stand. Suddenly he 
 determined to change his course, and carry the war into South 
 Carolina. This would obhge the enemy either to follow him, and 
 thus abandon North Carolina ; or to sacrifice all his posts in the 
 upper part of North Carohna and Georgia. He apprised Sumter, 
 Pickens, and Marion, by letter, of his intentions, and called upon 
 them to be ready to cooperate with all the mihtia they could col- 
 lect ; promising to send forward cavalry and small detachments of 
 light infantry, to aid them in capturing outposts before the army 
 should arrive. He set forward on the 5th of April towards Cam- 
 den, where Lord Rawdon had his headquarters. Cornwallis* 
 plans were all disconcerted. Never, we are told, was his lordship 
 more affected than by this news. " My situation here is very dis- 
 tressing," writes he. "Greene took advantage of my being 
 obliged to come to this place, and has marched to South Caro- 
 lina. The mountaineers and militia have poured into the back 
 part of that province, and I much fear that Lord Rawdon' s posts 
 will be so distant from each other, and his troops so scattered, as 
 to put him into the greatest danger of being beaten in detail, and 
 that the worst of consequences may happen to most of the troops 
 out of Charleston." All thoughts of offensive operations against 
 North Carolina were at an end. Sickness, desertion, and the loss 
 sustained at Guilford Court-house, had reduced his little army to 
 fourteen hundred and thirty-five men. In this predicament, he 
 determined to take advantage of Greene's having left the back 
 part of Virginia open, to march directly into that province, and 
 attempt a junction with the force acting there under Gen. Phillips. 
 The move, however, he felt to be perilous. His troops were worn 
 down by upwards of eight hundred miles of marching and coun- 
 ter-marching through an inhospitable and impracticable country; 
 they had now three hundred more before them. There was no 
 time for hesitation or delay ; and he set off on the 25th of April, 
 on his fated march into Virginia. 
 
 We left Benedict Arnold fortifying himself at Portsmouth, after 
 his ravaging incursion. At the solicitatioji of Gov. Jefferson, 
 
1781.J FRENCH FLEET IN THE CHESAPEAKE, 491 
 
 backed by Congress, the Chevalier de la Luzerne had requested 
 the French commander at the eastward to send a ship of the hne 
 and some frigates to Chesapeake Bay to oppose the traitor. For- 
 tunately, at this juncture a severe snow-storm (Jan. 22d) scattered 
 Arbuthnot's blockading squadron, wrecking one ship of the line 
 and dismasting others, and enabled the French fleet at Newport to 
 look abroad ; and Rochambeau wrote to Washington that the 
 Chevalier Destouches, who commanded the fleet, proposed to send 
 three or four ships to the Chesapeake. Washington feared the 
 position of Arnold, and his well-known address, might enable him 
 to withstand a mere attack by sea; anxious to ensure his capture, 
 he advised that Destouches should send his whole fleet ; and that 
 De Rochambeau should embark about a thousand men on board 
 of it, with artillery and apparatus for a siege ; engaging, on his own 
 part, to send on immediately a detachment of twelve hundred men 
 to cooperate. He gave the command of this detachment to Lafay- 
 ette, instructing him to act in conjunction with the mihtia and the 
 ships sent by Destouches, against the enemy's corps actually in 
 Virginia. He wrote at the same time to the Baron Steuben : " If 
 the fleet should have arrived before this gets to hand, secrecy will 
 be out of the question ; if not, you will conceal your expectations, 
 and only seem to be preparing for defence. Ai'nold, on the 
 appearance of the fleet, may endeavor to retreat through North 
 Carolina. Should you be able to capture this detachment with its 
 chief, it will be an event as pleasing as it will be useful." Lafay- 
 ette set out on his march on the 22d of February. The French 
 commanders determined to follow the plan suggested by Wash- 
 ington, and operate in the Chesapeake with their whole fleet and a 
 detanhment of land troops. Washington set out for Newport, ancT 
 arrived there on the 6th of March. He found the French fleet 
 ready for sea, the troops eleven hundred strong, commanded by 
 General the Baron de Niomenil, being already embarked. He 
 went immediately on board of the admiral's ship, where he had an 
 interview with the Count de Rochambeau, and arranged the plan 
 of the campaign. Returning on shore he was received by the in- 
 habitants with enthusiastic demonstrations of affection ; and was 
 gratified to perceive the harmony and good will between them and 
 the French army and fleet. The British fleet made sail in pursuit, 
 on the morning of the loth ; as the French had so much the start, 
 it was hoped they would reach the Chesapeake Bay before them. 
 In the meantime, Lafayette with his detachment was pressing for- 
 ward by forced marches for Virginia. Arriving at the Head of 
 Elk on the 3d of March, he halted until he should receive tidings 
 respecting the French fleet. On the 7th he conducted his troops 
 by water to Annapolis, and concluding, from the time the ships 
 were to sail, and the winds which had since prevailed, the French 
 fleet must be already in the Chesapeake, he crossed the bay in an 
 open boat to Virginia, and pushed on to confer with the American 
 and French commanders ; get a convoy for his troops, and concert 
 matters for a vigorous cooperation. Arriving at York on the 14th, 
 
492 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 he found the Baron Steuben in the bustle of military preparations, 
 and confident of having five thousand mihtia ready to cooperate. 
 
 Admiral Arbuthnot had overtaken Destouches on the i6th of 
 March, off the capes of Virginia. Their forces were nearly equal ; 
 eight ships of the line, and four frigates on each side, the French 
 having more men, the English more guns. An engagement took 
 place which lasted about an hour. The British van at first took 
 the brunt of the action, and was severely handled ; the center came 
 up to its relief. The French line was broken and gave way, but 
 ralHed, and formed again at some distance. The crippled state of 
 some of his ships prevented the British admiral from bringing on a 
 second encounter ; nor did the French seek one, but shaped their 
 course the next day back to Newport. The British effected the 
 main objects they had in view ; the French were cut off from the 
 Chesapeake ; the combined enterprise against Portsmouth was dis- 
 concerted, and Arnold was saved. Great must have been the appre- 
 hensions of the traitor, while thart enterprise threatened to entrap 
 him. He knew the peculiar peril impending over him ; it had been 
 announced in the sturdy reply of an American prisoner to his 
 inquiry what his countrymen would do to him if he were captured. 
 — "They would cut off the leg wounded in the service of your 
 country and bury it with the honors of war ; the rest of you they 
 would hang ! ' ' 
 
 Washington's anxiety was now awakened for the safety of Gen. 
 Greerie. Two thousand troops had sailed from New York under 
 Gen. Phillips, probably to join with the %rce under Arnold, and 
 proceed to reinforce Cornwallis. Should they form a junction, 
 Greene would be unable to withstand them. With these consider- 
 ations Washington wrote to Lafayette to push on with all possi- 
 ble speed to join the southern army. The letter found Lafayette 
 on the 8th of April, at the Head of Elk. On his return through 
 Virginia, he had gone out of his way, and travelled all night for 
 the purpose of seeing Washington's mother at Fredericksburg, and 
 paying a visit to Mount Vernon. His troops, who were chiefly 
 from the Eastern States, murmured at the prospect of a campaign 
 in a southern climate, and desertions began to occur. Upon this 
 he announced in general orders, that he was about to enter on an 
 enterprise of great difficulty and danger, in which he trusted his 
 soldiers would not abandon him. Their pride was roused by this 
 appeal. All engaged to continue forward. So great was the fear 
 of appearing a laggard, or a craven, that a sergeant, too lame to 
 march, hired a place in a cart to keep up with the army. In the 
 zeal of the moment, Lafayette borrowed money on his own credit 
 from the Baltimore merchants, to purchase summer clothing for 
 his troops, in which he was aided, too, by the ladies of the city, 
 with whom he was deservedly popular. 
 
 The detachment from New York, under Gen. Phillips, arrived at 
 Portsmouth on the 26th of March. That officer immediately took 
 command, greatly to the satisfaction of the British officers, who 
 had been acting under Arnold. The force now collected there 
 amounted to three thousand five hundred men. The disparity in 
 
1 78 1 . ] MAJ^A UDS IN VI R GINIA. 493 
 
 force was so great, that the Baron Steuben had to withdraw his 
 troops, and remove the military stores into the interior. 
 
 Gen. Phillips on the i6th of April, left one thousand men in gar- 
 rison, and embarking the rest in small vessels of light draught, 
 proceeded up James River, destroying armed vessels, public mag 
 azines, and a ship-yard belonging to the State. Landing at City 
 Point, he advanced aga.inst Petersburg, a place of deposit of mili- 
 tary stores and tobacco. He was met about a mile below the 
 town by about one thousand militia, under Gen. Muhlenburg, 
 who, after disputing the ground inch by inch for nearly two hours, 
 with considerable loss on both sides, retreated across the Appo- 
 mattox, breaking down the bridge behind them. PhiUips entered 
 the town, set fire to the tobacco warehouses, and destroyed all the 
 vessels lying in the river. Repairing and crossing the bridge over 
 the Appomattox, he proceeded to Chesterfield Court-house, where he 
 destroyed barracks and public stores ; while Arnold, with a detach- 
 ment laid waste the magazines of tobacco in the direction of War- 
 wick. Richmond was a leading object of this desolating enter- 
 prise, for there a great part of the military stores of the State had 
 been collected. Fortunately, Lafayette, with his detachment of 
 two thousand men, had arrived there, by forced marches, the 
 evening before, and being joined by about two thousand militia 
 and sixty dragoons (the latter, principally young Virginians of 
 family), had posted himself strongly on the high banks on the 
 north side of the river. There being no bridge across the river at 
 that time, Gen. Phillips did not think it prudent to attempt a passage 
 in face of such a force so posted ; but was extremely irritated at 
 being thus foiled by the celerity of his youthful opponent, who now 
 assumed the chief command of the American forces in Virginia. 
 Returning down the south bank of the river, to the place 
 where his vessels awaited him, he reembarked on the 2d of May, 
 and dropped slowly down the river below the confluence of the 
 Chickahominy. He was followed cautiously, and his move- 
 ments watched by Lafayette, who posted himself behind the last- 
 named river. Cornwallis was advancing with all speed from the 
 South to effect a junction with him, and he made a rapid move to 
 regain possession of Petersburg, where the junction was to take 
 place. Lafayette attempted by forced marches to get there before 
 him, but was too late. Falling back, therefore, he recrossed 
 James River and stationed himself some miles below Richmond. 
 PhiUips' smaller vessels had carried on the plan of plunder and 
 devastation in other of the rivers emptying into the Chesapeake 
 Bay. One had ascended the Potomac and menaced Mount Ver- 
 non. Lund Washington, who had charge of the estate, met the 
 flag which the enemy sent on shore, and saved the property from 
 ravage, by furnishing the vessel with provisions. Washington 
 was stung to the quick by the idea that his agent should go on 
 board of the enemy's vessels, carry them refreshments, and " com- 
 mune with a parcel of plundering scoundrels," as he termed them. 
 "It would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have 
 heard," writes he, "that in consequence of your noncompliance 
 
494 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with their request, they had burnt my house and laid my planta- 
 tion in ruins." Such Avere the steadfast purposes of Washington's 
 mind >vhen war was brought home to his door, and threatening his 
 earthly paradise of Mount Vernon. 
 
 Cornwallis arrived at Petersburg on the 2oth of May, after 
 nearly a month's wear\' marching from Wilmington. His lord- 
 ship, on taking command, found his force augmented by a consid- 
 erable detachment of royal artillery, two battalions of light infan- 
 try, the 76th and 8oth British regiments, a Hessian regiment, Lieut. - 
 Col. Simcoes corps of Queen's rangers, cavalry and infantry, one 
 hundred yagers, Arnold's legion of royahsts, and the garrison of 
 Portsmouth. 
 
 Washington's whole force on the Hudson in the month of May, 
 1781, did not amount to seven thousand men, of whom little more 
 than four thousand were effective. He still had his headquarters 
 at New Windsor, just above the Highlands, and within a few miles 
 of West Point. The enemy were in force on the opposite side of 
 the Hudson, marauding the country on the north side of Croton 
 River, and he ordered a hasty advance of Connecticut troops in 
 that direction. The Croton River flows from east to west across 
 Westchester County, and formed as it were the barrier of the 
 American lines. The advanced posts of Washington's army 
 guarded it, and by its aid, protected the upper counvr>' from the 
 incursions of those foraging parties and marauders which had des- 
 olated the neutral ground below it. Col. Delancey's loyalists, a 
 horde of tories and refugees which had their stronghold in Morris- 
 ania, were the terror of the neighboring country. There was a 
 petty Avar continually going on between them and the American 
 outposts, often of a ruthless WwA. Delancey's horse and rangers 
 scoured the country , and swept off forage and cattle from its fertile val- 
 leys for the Biitish army at New York. Hence they were sometimes 
 stigmatized by the opprobrious appellation of Cow Boys. The 
 object of their present incursion was to surprise an outpost of the 
 American army stationed near a fordable part of the Croton River, 
 not far from Pine's Bridge. The post Avas commanded by Col. 
 Christopher Greene, of Rhode Island, the same Avho had success- 
 fully defended Fort Mercer on the Delaware, Avhen assailed by 
 Count Donop. Delancey Avas successor to the unfortunate Andre 
 as Adjutant-general of the British army. He conducted this foray 
 in the night, at the head of a hundred horse and two hundred foot. 
 The Croton Avas forded at daybreak, just as the night-guard had 
 been Avithdrawn, and the farm houses Avere surprised and assailed 
 in Avhich the Americans Avere quartered. That occupied by Col. 
 Greene and a brother officer, Major Flagg, Avas first surrounded. 
 The major started from his bed, and discharged his pistols from a 
 Avindow, but Avas shot through the head, and afterwards despatched 
 by cuts and thrusts of the sabre. The door of Greene's room Avas 
 burst open. He defended himself vigorously and effectively Avith 
 his sword, for he had great strength, but he was overpowered by 
 numbers, cut down, and barbarously mangled. A massacre was 
 going on in ether quarters. Besides these tAvo officers, there Avcre 
 
1781.] ROBERT MORRIS PLEDGES HIS CREDIT. 495 
 
 between thirt}^ and forty killed and wounded, and several made 
 prisoners. Before the troops ordered out by Washington arrived 
 at the post, the marauders had made a precipitate retreat. They 
 had attempted to carry off Greene a prisoner, but he died within 
 three quarters of a mile of the house. He was but forty-four 
 years of age, and was a model of manly strength and comeliness. 
 A true soldier of the Revolution, he had served at Lexington and 
 Bunker's Hill; followed Arnold through the Kennebec wilderness 
 to Quebec; fought under the walls of that city; distinguished 
 himself by his defence of Fort Mercer on the Delaware, and by 
 his kind treatment of his vanquished and wounded antagonist. 
 Col. Donop, How different the treatment experienced by him at 
 the hands of his tory countrymen! On the subsequent day, the 
 corpse of Col. Greene was brought to headquarters, and his funeral 
 solemnized with military honors and universal grief. — A frigate 
 had arrived at Boston, bringing the Count de Barras, to take com- 
 mand of the French naval force. He was a veteran about sixty 
 yeai-s of age, and had commanded D'Estaing's vanguard, whenhe 
 forced the entrance of Newport harbor. The count brought the 
 cheering intelligence that an armament of twenty ships of the line, 
 with land forces, had sailed from France under the Count de 
 Grasse for the West Indies, and that twelve of these ships were to 
 relieve the squadron at Newport, and might be expected on the 
 coast of the United States in July or August. The Count de Roch- 
 ambeau now requested an interview with Washington, and they 
 met at Weathersfield, Connecticut, on the 22d of May. Both as 
 yet were ignorant of the arrival of Cornwallis in Virginia. It was 
 determined that the French troops should march from Newport as 
 soon as possible, and form a junction with the American army on 
 the Hudson, and that both should move down to the vicinity of 
 New York to make a combined attack, in which the Count de 
 Grasse should be invited to cooperate with his fleet and a body 
 of land troops. Wlien, however, Washington mustered his forces 
 at Peekskill, he was mortified to find not more than five thousand 
 effective men. Notwithstanding all the resolutions passed in the 
 legislatures of the various States for supplying the army, it would, 
 at this critical rhoment, have been destitute of provisions, especi- 
 ally bread, had it not been for the zeal, talents, and activity of 
 Mr. Robert Morris, now a delegate to Congress from the State of 
 Pennsylvania, and recently appointed superintendent of finance. 
 This patriotic and energetic man, when public means failed, 
 pledged his own credit in transporting military stores and feeding 
 the army. Washington now prepared for spirited operations, 
 quickened by the intelligence that a part of the garrison of New 
 York had been detached to forage the Jerseys. Two objects were 
 contemplated by him : one, the surprisal of the British works at 
 the north end of New York Island ; the other the capture or 
 destruction of Delancey's corps of refugees in Morrisania. The 
 attack upon the posts was to be conducted by Gen. Lincoln, with 
 a detachment from the main army, which he was to bring down 
 by water — that on Delancey's corps by the Duke de Lauzun with 
 
496 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 his French legion, aided by Sheldon's dragoons, and a body of 
 Connecticut troops. Both operations were to be carried into effect 
 on the 3d of July. Lincoln left the camp near Peekskill on the 
 1st, with eight hundred men, and artillery, and proceeded to Tel- 
 ler's Point, were they were embarked in boats with muffled oars, 
 and rowed silently at night down the Tappan Sea, that region of 
 mystery and secret enterprise. At daylight they kept concealed 
 under the land. The Duke de Lauzun was supposed, at the same 
 time, to be on the way from Connecticut. Washington, at three 
 o'clock on the morning of the 2d, left his tents standing at Peeks- 
 kill, and commenced his march with his main force, without bag- 
 gage ; making a brief halt at Croton Bridge, about nine miles from 
 Peekskill ; another at the Sleepy Hollow Church, near Tarrytown, 
 w here he halted until dusk, and completed the rest of his march 
 in the night, to Valentine's Hill, four miles above King's Bridge. 
 Before daylight of the 3d, Lincoln landed his troops above Spuy- 
 ten Duy vil Creek, and took possession of the high ground on the 
 north of Harlem River, where Fort Independence once stood. 
 Here he was discovered by a foraging party of the enemy, fifteen 
 hundred strong. An irregular skirmish ensued. The firing was 
 heard by the Duke de Lauzun, who was just arrived with his 
 troops at Eastchester, fatigued "by a long and forced march in 
 sultry weather. Finding the country alarmed, and all hope of 
 surprising Delancey's corps at an end, he hastened to the support 
 of Lincoln. Washington also advanced with his troops from Val- 
 entine's Hill. The British, perceiving their danger, retreated to 
 their boats on the east side of Harlem River, and crossed over to 
 New York Island. Washington spent a good part of the day 
 reconnoitering the enemy's works. In the afternoon he retired to 
 Valentine's Hill, and the next day marched to Dobbs Ferry, where 
 he was joined by the Count de Rochambeau on the 6th of July. 
 The two armies now encamped ; the American in two lines, rest- 
 ing on the Hudson at Dobbs Ferry, where it was covered by bat- 
 teries, and extending eastward towards the Neperan or Sawmill 
 River ; the French in a single line on the hills further east, reach- 
 ing to the Bronx River. The beautiful valley of the Neperan inter- 
 vened between the encampments. It was a lovely country for a 
 summer encampment, breezy hills commanding wide prospects : 
 umbrageous valleys watered by bright pastoral streams, the Bronx, 
 the Spraine, and the Neperan, and abounding with never-failing 
 springs. The French encampment made a gallant display along 
 the Greenburg hills. Some of the officers, young men of rank, to 
 ■whom this was all a service of romance, took a pride in decorating 
 their tents, and forming little gardens in their vicinity. General 
 Washington was an object of their enthusiasm. He visited the tents 
 they had so gayly embellished ; for, with all his gravity, he was 
 fond of the company of young men. They were apprised of his 
 coming, and set out on their camp-tables plans of the battle of 
 Trenton ; of West Point, and other scenes connected with the war. 
 The two commanders had their respective headquarters in farm 
 houses, and occasionally, on festive occasions, long tables were 
 
1781.] LAFAYETTE AND CVRNWALLIS, 49;^ 
 
 spread in the adjacent barns, which were converted into banquet- 
 ing halls. The young French officers gained the good graces of 
 the country belles, though little acquainted with their language. 
 Their encampment was particularly gay, and it was the boast of an 
 old lady of the neighborhood many years after the war, that she 
 had danced at headquarters when a girl with the celebrated Mar- 
 shal Berthier, at that time one of the aides-de-camp of the Count 
 de Rochambeau. 
 
 Washington crossed the river at Dobbs Ferry, accompanied by 
 the Count de Rochambeau, Gen. de Beville, and Gen. Duportail, 
 to reconnoitre the British posts on the north end of New York 
 Island. They were escorted by one hundred and fifty of the New 
 Jersey troops, and spent the day on the Jersey heights ascertaining 
 the exact position of the enemy on the opposite shore. Their next 
 movement was to reconnoitre the enemy's posts at King's Bridge 
 and on the east side of New York Island, and to cut off, if possi- 
 ble, such of Delancey's corps as should be found without the Brit- 
 ish lines. Five thousand troops, French and American, led by 
 the Count de Chastellux and Gen. Lincoln, began their march in 
 separate columns, July 21; part down the Hudson River road, 
 part down the Sawmill River valley ; part by the Eastchester road. 
 The whole detachment arrived at King's Bridge about daylight, and 
 formed on the height back of Fort Independence. Washington 
 and De Rochambeau, accompanied by engineers and by their 
 staffs, set out under the escort of a troop of dragoons to reconnoitre 
 t'he enemy's position and works from every point of view. It w^as 
 a wide reconnaissance, extending across the country outside of the 
 British lines from the Hudson to the Sound. The whole was done 
 slowly and scientifically, exact notes and diagrams being made of 
 everything that might be of importance in future operations. Mean- 
 time light troops and lances had performed their duty in scouring 
 the neighborhood. The refugee posts which had desolated the coun- 
 try were broken up. Most of the refugees, Washington says, had 
 fled and hid themselves in secret places ; some got over by stealth to 
 the adjacent islands, and to the enemy's shipping, and a few were 
 caught. The immediate effect of this threatening movement of 
 Washington, appears in a letter of Sir Henry Chnton to Cornwallis, 
 dated July 26th, requesting him to order three regiments to New 
 York from Carolina. 
 
 The first object of Cornwallis on the Junction of his forces at 
 Petersburg, in May, was to strike a blow at Lafayette. The mar- 
 quis was encamped on the north side of James River, between 
 Wilton and Richmond, with about one thousand regulars, two 
 thousand militia, and fifty dragoons. He was waiting for rein- 
 forcements of militia, and for the arrival of Gen. Wayne, with the 
 Pennsylvania line. His lordship hoped to draw him into an 
 action before thus reinforced, and with that view, marched on the 
 24th of May, from Petersburg to James River, which he crossed at 
 Westover, about thirty miles below Richmond. Here he was 
 joined on the 26th by a reinforcement just arrived from New 
 York, part of which he sent under Gen. Leslie to strengthen the 
 
498 • IJFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 garrison at Portsmouth. He was relieved also from military com- 
 panionship with the infamous Arnold, who obtained leave of 
 absence to return to New York, where business of importance was 
 said to demand his attention. While he was in command of the 
 British army in Virginia, Lafayette had refused to hold any cor- 
 respondence, or reciprocate any of the civilities of war with him ; 
 for which he was highly applauded by Washington. Cornwallis 
 moved to dislodge Lafayette from Richmond. The latter, con- 
 scious of the inferiority of his forces, decamped as soon as he heard 
 his lordship had crossed James River. He now directed his 
 march towards the upper country, inclining to the north, to favoi 
 a juncture with Wayne. Cornwallis soon found it impossible ta 
 overtake him. The great number of fine horses in the stables of 
 Virginia gentlemen, who are noted for their love of the noble 
 animal, had enabled the latter to mount many of his troops in first- 
 rate style. These he employed in scouring the country, and 
 destroying public stores. Tarleton and his legion, it is said, were 
 mounted on race-horses. With one hundred and eighty cavalry 
 and seventy mounted infantry, June 4th, he made a dash to 
 Charlottesville, to break up the legislature, and carry off members. 
 He crossed the Rivanna, which washes the hill on which Char- 
 lottesville is situated ; dispersed a small force collected on the 
 bank, and galloped into the town thinking to capture the whole 
 assembly. Seven alone fell into his hands ; the rest had made 
 their escape. No better success attended a party of horse under 
 Capt. McLeod, detached to surprise the Governor (Thomas Jeffer- 
 son), at his residence in Monticello, about three miles from Char- 
 lottesville, where several members of the legislature were his 
 guests. The dragoons were espied winding up the mountain ; the 
 guests dispersed ; the family was hurried off to the residence of 
 Col. Carter, six miles distant, while the Governor himself made a 
 rapid retreat on horseback to Carter's Mountain. CornwaUis 
 turned his face towards th"e lower part of Virginia, and made a 
 retrograde march, first to Richmond, and afterwards to Williams- 
 burg. Lafayette, being joined by Steuben and his forces, had 
 about four thousand men under him, one half of whom were regu- 
 lars. He now followed the British army at the distance of 
 eighteen or twenty miles, throwing forward his light troops to 
 harass their rear. Cornwallis arrived at Williamsburg on the 25th 
 of June, and on the 4th of July he set out for Portsmouth. 
 
 Greene, on the 5th of April, set out from the Deep River on a 
 letrograde march to carry the war again into South Carolina, begin- 
 ning by an attack on Lord Rawdon's post at Camden. Sumter 
 and Marion had been keeping alive the revolutionary fire in that 
 State; the former on the north-east frontier, the latter in his favor- 
 ite fighting ground between the Pedee and Santee Rivers. On 
 his way to Camden, Greene detached Lee to join Marion with his 
 legion, and make an attack upon Fort Watson by way of diver- 
 sion. For himself, he appeared before Camden, but finding it too 
 strong and too well garrisoned, fell back about two miles, and took 
 post at Hobkirk's Hill. Rawdon attacked him on the ^-5th of April, 
 
1/81.] GREENE IN SO UTH CAR OLINA, 499 
 
 coming upon him partly by surprise. There was a hard-fought 
 battle, but through some false move among part of his troops, 
 Greene was obliged to retreat. His lordship had heard of the 
 march of Cornwallis into Virginia, and that all hope of aid from 
 him was at an end. His garrison was out of provisions. All sup- 
 plies were cut off by the Americans ; he had no choice but to 
 evacuate. He left Camden in flames. Immense quantities of 
 stores and baggage were consumed, together with the court-house, 
 the gaol, and many private houses. Rapid successes now 
 attended the American arms. Fort Mott, the middle post between 
 Camden and Ninety-Six, was taken by Marion and Lee. Lee 
 next captured Granby, and marched to aid Pickens in the siege of 
 Augusta ; while Greene, having acquired a supply of arms, ammu- 
 nition, and provisions, from the captured forts, sat down before the 
 fortress of Ninety-Six, on the 22d of May. It was the great mart 
 and stronghold of the royalists, and was principally garrisoned by 
 royalists from New Jersey and New York, commanded by Col. 
 Cruger, a native of New York. The siege lasted for nearly a 
 month. Lord Rawdon was but a few miles distant on the Saluda. 
 The troops were eager to storm the works before he should arrive. 
 A partial assault was made on the i8th of June. It was a bloody 
 contest. The stockaded fort was taken, but the troops were 
 repulsed from the main works. Greene retreated across the 
 Saluda, and halted at Bush River, at twenty miles distance, to 
 observe the motions of the enemy. Rawdon entered Ninety -Six on 
 the 2ist. Leaving about one-half of his force there, under Col. 
 Cruger, at the head of eleven hundred infantry, with cavalry, 
 artillery, and field-pieces, he marched by the south side of the 
 Saluda for the Congaree. He was pursued by Greene and Lee. 
 In this march more than fifty of his soldiers fell dead from heat, 
 fatigue and privation. At Orangeburg, where he arrived on the 
 8th of July, he was joined by a large detachment under Col. 
 Stuart. Greene had followed him closely, and having collected 
 all his detachments, and being joined by Sumter, appeared within 
 four miles of Orangeburg, on the loth of July, and offered battle. 
 The offer was not accepted, and the position of Lord Rawdon was 
 too strong to be attacked. Greene remained there two or three 
 days ; when, learning that Col. Cruger was advancing with the 
 residue of the forces from Ninety-Six, which would again give his 
 lordship a superiority of force, he moved off with his infantry on 
 the night of the 13th of July, crossed the Saluda, and posted him- 
 self on the east side of the Wateree at the high hills of Santee. In 
 this salubrious and delightful region, he allowed his weary soldiers 
 to repose. At Orangeburg he had detached about a thousand 
 light troops, under Sumter, Marion, Lee, the Hamptons, and other 
 partisans, towards Charleston. Col. Henry Hampton with a party 
 was posted to keep an eye on Orangeburg. Lee with his legion, 
 accompanied by Lieut. -Col. Wade Hampton, and a detachment 
 of cavalry, was sent to carry Dorchester, and then press forward to 
 the gates of Charleston ; while Sumter with the main body, took 
 up his hne of march along the road on the south side of the Con- 
 
500 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 garee, towards Monk's Corner. One of the best etTects of the incur- 
 sion was the drawing down Lord Rawdon from Orangeburg, with five 
 hundred of liis troops. He returned no more to the upper country, 
 but sailed not long after from Charleston for Europe. Col. Stuart, 
 who was left in command at Orangeburg, moved forward from 
 that place, and encamped on the south side of the Congaree River, 
 near its junction with the Wateree, and within sixteen miles of 
 Greene's position on the high hills of Santee. The two armies lay- 
 in sight of each other's fires, but two large rivers intervened, to 
 secure each party from sudden attack. Both armies, however, 
 needed repose, and mihtary operations were suspended, as if by 
 mutual consent, during the sultry summer heat. The campaign 
 had been a severe and trying one, and checkered with vicissi- 
 tudes ; but Greene had succeeded in regaining the greater part of 
 Georgia and the two Carolinas, and, as he said, only wanted a lit- 
 tle assistance from the North to complete their recovery. He was 
 soon rejoiced by a letter from Washington, informing him that a 
 detachment from the army of Lafayette might be expected to 
 bring him the required assistance. 
 
 After the grand reconnaissance of the posts on New York Island, 
 the confederate armies remained encamped about Dobbs Ferry 
 and the Greenburg hills awaiting an augmentation of force for 
 their meditated attack. To Washington's great disappointment, 
 his army was but tardily and scantily recruited, while the garri- 
 son of New York was augmented by the arrival of three thou- 
 sand Hessian troops from Europe. Until we study Washing- 
 ton's full, perspicuous letters, we know little of the difficulties he 
 had to struggle with in conducting his campaigns; how often the 
 sounding resolves of legislative bodies disappointed him; how 
 often he had to maintain a bold front when his country failed 
 to back him ; how often, as in the siege of Boston, he had to 
 carry on the war without powder ! 
 
 In a few days came letters from Lafayette, dated 26th and 
 30th of July, speaking of the embarkation of the greatest part of 
 Cornwallis's army at Portsmouth. " There are in Hampton 
 Roads thirty transport ships full of troops, most of them red 
 coats, and eight or ten brigs with cavalry on board." He sup- 
 posed their destination to be New York, yet, though wind and 
 weather were favorable, they did not sail. "Should a French 
 fleet now come into Hampton Roads," adds the sanguine Mar- 
 quis, "the British army would, I think, be ours." At this junc- 
 ture arrived the French frigate Concorde at Newport, bringing 
 despatches from Admiral the Count de Grasse. He was to leave 
 St. Domingo on the 3d of August, with between twenty-five 
 and thirty ships of the line, and a considerable body of land 
 forces, and to steer immediately for the Chesapeake. AH attempt 
 upon New York was postponed; the whole of the French army, 
 and as large a part of the Americans as could be spared, were 
 to move to Virginia, and cooperate with the Count de Grasse for 
 the redemption of the Southern States. Washington wrote to 
 Lafayette on the 15th of August: "By the time this reaches you. 
 
O 
 
 C 
 
I78i.] COMBINED ARMY MO VES SOUTH. 501 
 
 the Count de Grasse will either be in the Chesapeake, or may be 
 looked for every moment. ' ' Should Gen. Wayne, with the troops des- 
 tined for South Carolina, still remain in the neighborhood of James 
 River, and the enemy have made no detachment to the southward, 
 the Marquis was to detain these troops until he heard again from 
 Washington, and was to inform Gen. Greene of the cause of their 
 detention. "You shall hear further from me," concludes the let- 
 ter, " as soon as I have concerted plans and formed dispositions 
 for sending a reinforcement from hence. You will be particularly 
 careful to conceal the expected arrival of the Count; because, if 
 the enemy are not apprised of it, they will stay on board their 
 transports in the bay, which will be the luckiest circumstance in 
 the world." Washington's "soul was now in arms." At length, 
 after being baffled and disappointed so often by the incompetency 
 of his means, and above all, thwarted by the enemy's naval 
 potency, he had the possibilty of coping with them both on land 
 and sea. The contemplated expedition was likely to consummate 
 his plans, and wind up the fortunes of the war, and he determined 
 to lead it in person. He would take with him something more than 
 two thousand of the American army; the rest, chiefly Northern 
 troops, were to remain with Gen. Heath, who was to hold com- 
 mand of West Point, and the other posts of the Hudson. Prepar- 
 arions were still carried on, as if for an attack upon New York. 
 An extensive encampment was marked out in the Jerseys, and 
 ovens erected, and fuel provided for the baking of bread; as if a 
 part of the besieging force was to be stationed there, thence to 
 make a descent upon the enemy's garrison on Staten Island, in aid 
 of the operations against the city. The American troops, them- 
 selves, were kept in ignorance of their destination. Washington 
 sent forward a party of pioneers to clear the roads towards King's 
 Bridge, as if the posts recently reconnoitred were about to be 
 attempted. On the 19th of August, his troops were paraded with 
 their faces in that direction. When all were ready, however, they 
 were ordered to face about, and were marched up along the Hudson 
 River towards King's Ferry. De Rochambeau, in like manner, 
 broke up his encampment, and took the road by White Plains, 
 North Castle, Pine's Bridge, and Crompond, towards the same 
 point. All Westchester County was again alive with the tramp of 
 troops, the gleam of arms, and the lumbering of artillery and bag- 
 bage wagons along its roads. On the 20th, Washington arrived at 
 King's Ferry, and his troops began to cross the Hudson with their 
 baggage, stores, and cannon, and encamped at Haverstraw. 
 Thence he wrote confidentially to Lafayette, on the 21st, now first 
 apprising him of his being on the march with the expedition, and 
 repeating his injunctions that the land and naval forces, already at 
 the scene of action, should so combine their operations, that the 
 English, on the arrival of the French fleet, might not be able to 
 escajje. He wrote also to the Count de Grasse, (presuming that 
 the letter would find him in the Chesapeake,) urging him to send 
 up all his frigates and transports to the Head of Elk, by the 8th of 
 September, for the transportation of the combined army, which 
 
502 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 would be there by that time. He informed him also, that the 
 Count de Barras had resolved to join him in the Chesapeake \vith 
 his squadron. One is reminded of the tissue of movements 
 planned from a distance, which ended in the capture of Burgoyne. 
 On the 22d, the French troops arrived by their circuitous route, 
 and began to cross to Stony Point with their artillery, baggage, and 
 stores. The operation occupied between two and three days; dur- 
 ing which time Washington took the Count de Rochambeau on a 
 visit to West Point, to show him the citadel of the Highlands, an 
 object of intense interest, in consequence of having been the scene 
 of Arnold's treason. The two armies having safely crossed the 
 Hudson, commenced, on the 25th, their several lines of march 
 towards the Jerseys; the Americans for Springfield on the Rah- 
 ■way, the French for Whippany towards Trenton. Both armies 
 were still kept in the dark, as to the ultimate object of their move- 
 ment, and the enemy were equally bewildered. 
 
 Washington had in fact reached the Delaware with his troops, 
 before Sir Henry Chnton was aware of their destination. It was 
 too late to oppose their march, even had his forces been ade- 
 quate. As a kind of counterplot, he hurried off an expedition to 
 the eastward, to attack New London. The command of this 
 expedition, which was to be one of ravage and destruction, was 
 given to Arnold, as if it was necessary to complete the measure 
 of his infamy, that he should carry fire and sword into his native 
 State, and desecrate the very cradle of his infancy. On the 6th 
 of September he appeared off the harbor of New London with a 
 fleet of ships and transports and a force of two thousand infan- 
 try and three hundred cavalry; partly British troops, but a 
 great part made up of American royalists and refugees, and Hes- 
 sian Yagers. New London stands on the west bank of the river 
 Thames. The approach to it was defended by two forts on oppo- 
 site sides of the river, and about a mile below the town; Fort 
 Trumbull on the west and Fort Griswold on the east side, on a 
 height called Groton Hill. The troops landed in two divisions 
 of about eight hundred men each; one under Lieut.-Col. Eyre on 
 the east side, the other under Arnold on the west, on the same 
 side with New London, and about three miles below it. Arnold 
 met with but little opposition. Col. Eyre had a harder task. 
 The militia, about one hundred and fifty-seven strong, had col- 
 lected in Fort Griswold, hastily and imperfectly armed it is true, 
 some of them merely with spears; but they were brave men, and 
 had a brave commander, Col. William Ledyard, brother of the 
 celebrated traveler. The fort was square and regularly built. 
 Eyre forced the pickets; made his way into the fosse, and 
 attacked the fort on three sides; it was bravely defended; the 
 enemy were repeatedly repulsed; they returned to the assault, 
 scrambled up on each other's shoulders, effected a lodgment on 
 the fraise, and made their way with fixed bayonets through the 
 embrasure. Col, Eyre received a mortal wound near the works; 
 Major Montgomery took his place; a negro thrust him through 
 with a spear as he mounted the parapet; Major Brom field sue- 
 
1781.J ARNOLD BURNS NEW LONDON. 503 
 
 ceeded to the command, and carried the fort at the point of the 
 bayonet. In fact, after the enemy were within the walls, fighting 
 was at an end and the slaughter commenced. Col. Ledyard, it 
 is said, was thrust through with his own sword after yielding it 
 up to Major Bromfield. Seventy of the garrison were slain, and 
 thirty-five desperately wounded; and most of them after the fort 
 had been taken. The massacre was chiefly perpetrated by the 
 tories, refugees and Hessians. Major Bromfield himself was a 
 New Jersey loyalist. The rancor of such men against their patriot 
 countrymen was always deadly. The loss of the enemy was two 
 officers and forty-six soldiers killed, and eight officers and one 
 hundred and thirty-five soldiers wounded. Arnold in the mean- 
 time, had carried on the work of destruction at New London. 
 Some of the American shipping had effected their escap>e up the 
 river, but a number were burnt. Fire, too, was set to the public 
 stores; it communicated to the dwelling-houses, and, in a little 
 while, the whole place was wrapped in flames. The destruction 
 was immense, not only of public but private property; many fam- 
 ilies once living in affluence were ruined and rendered home- 
 less. Arnold retreated to his boats, leaving the town still burning. 
 Alarm guns had roused the country; the traitor was pursued by 
 the exasperated yeomanry; he escaped their well-merited ven- 
 geance, but several of his men were killed and wounded. So 
 ended his career of infamy in his native land; a land which had 
 once delighted to honor him, but in which his name was never 
 thenceforth to be pronounced without a malediction. 
 
 Washington arrived at Philadelphia about noon, Aug. 30th, and 
 ahghted at the city taveren amidst enthusiastic crowds, who wel- 
 comed him with acclamations. During his sojourn in the city 
 he was hospitably entertained at the house of Mr. Morris, the patri- 
 otic financier. The greatest difficulty with which he had to con- 
 tend in his present enterprise, was the want of funds, part of the 
 troops not having received any pay for a long time. The ser- 
 vice upon which they were going was disagreeable to the north- 
 ern regiments, and the douceur of a little hard money would 
 have an effect, Washington thought, to put them into a proper 
 temper. In this emergency he was accommodated by the Count 
 de Rochambeau, with a loan of twenty thousand hard dollars, 
 which Mr. Robert Morris engaged to repay by the first of October. 
 This pecuniary pressure was relieved by the arrival in Boston, on 
 the 25th of August, of Col. John Laurens from the mission to 
 France, bringing with him two and ahalf milhonsof livres in cash, 
 being part of a subsidy of six millions of livres granted by the 
 French King. On the 2d of September the American troops 
 passed through Philadelphia. Their line of march, including 
 appendages and attendants, extended nearly two miles. In the 
 rear of every brigade were several field-pieces with ammunition 
 wagons. The soldiers kept step to the sound of the drum and fife. 
 Notwithstanding the dusty and somewhat ragged plight of the sol- 
 diery, however, they were cheered with enthusiasm by the popu- 
 lace, which hailed them as the war-worn defenders of the country. 
 
504 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 The French troops entered on the following day, but in dijfferent 
 style. Halting within a mile of the city, they arranged their arms 
 and accoutrements; brushed the dust off their gay white uniforms 
 faced with green, and then marched in with buoyant step and 
 brilliant array to the swelling music of a military band. The 
 streets were again thronged by the shouting populace. The win- 
 dows were crowded with ladies; among whom probably were some 
 of the beauties who had crowned the British knights in the chival- 
 rous mime of the Mischianza, now ready to bestow smiles and 
 wreaths on their Gallic rivals. At Philadelphia Washington 
 received despatches from Lafayette, dated the 21st and 24th of 
 August, from his camp at the Forks of York River in Virginia. 
 The embarkation at Portsmouth was for Yorktown, where Corn- 
 wallis had determined to establish the permanent post ordered in 
 his instructions. Yorktown was a small place situated on a pro- 
 jecting bank on the south side of York River, opposite a promon- 
 tory called Gloucester Point. The river between was not more 
 than a mile wide, but deep enough to admit ships of a large size 
 and burthen. Here concentrating his forces, he had proceeded to 
 fortify the opposite points, calculating to have the works finished 
 by the beginning of October; at which time Sir Henry Chnton 
 intended to recommence operations on the Chesapeake. Lafay- 
 ette, in conformity to the instructions of Washington, was taking 
 measures to cut off any retreat by land which his lordship might 
 attempt on the arrival of De Grasse. He was prepared, as soon 
 as he should hear of the arrival of De Grasse, to march at once to 
 Williamsburg and form a junction with the troops which were to be 
 landed from the fleet. Thus a net was quietly drawn round Corn- 
 wallis by the youthful general, while the veteran felt himself sa 
 secure that he was talking of detaching troops to New York. 
 
 Washington left Philadelphia on the 5th of September, on his way 
 to the Head of Elk. About three miles below Chester, he was met 
 by an express bearing tidings of the arrival of the Count de Grasse 
 in the Chesapeake with twenty-eight ships of the line. He 
 instantly rode back to Chester to rejoice with the Count de Roch- 
 ambeau, who was coming down to that place from Philadelphia 
 by water. They had a joyous dinner together, after which Wash- 
 ington proceeded in the evening on his destination. At Philadel- 
 phia there had been a grand review of the French troops, at which- 
 the President of Congress and all the fashion of the city were pres- 
 ent. It was followed by a banquet given to the officers by the 
 French Minister, the Chevalier de Luzerne. Scarcely were the 
 company seated at table, when despatches came announcing the 
 arrival of De Grasse and the landing of three thousand troops 
 under the Marquis St. Simon, who, it was added, had opened a 
 communication with Lafayette. All now was mutual gratulation 
 at the banquet. The news soon went forth and spread throughout 
 the city. Acclamations were to be heard on all sides, and crowds 
 assembling before the house of the French Minister rent the air 
 with hearty huzzas for Louis the Sixteenth. Washington reached 
 the Head of Elk on the 6th. The troops and a great part of the 
 
1781.J THE ARMIES PUSH FOR YORKTOIVN. 505 
 
 stores were already arrived, and beginning to embark. Thence he 
 wrote to the Count de Grasse, fehcitating him on his arrival ; and 
 infoiTning him that the van of the two armies were about to em- 
 bark and fall down the Chesapeake, form a junction with the 
 troops under the Count die St. Simon and the Marquis de Lafay- 
 ette, and cooperate in blocking up Cornwallis in York River, so as 
 to prevent his retreat by land or his getting any supplies from the 
 country. "As it will be of the greatest importance," writes he, 
 ** to prevent the escape of his lordship from his present position, I 
 am persuaded that every measure which prudence can dictate will 
 be adopted for that purpose, until the arrival of our complete force, 
 when I hope his lordship will be compelled to yield his ground to 
 the superior power of our combined forces." Everything had 
 thus far gone on well, but there were not vessels enough at the 
 Headof Elkfor the immediate transportation of all the troops, ord- 
 nance and stores; a part of the troops would have to proceed to 
 Baltimore by land. Leaving Gen. Heath to bring on the Ameri- 
 can forces, and the Baron de Viomenil the French, Washington, 
 accompanied by De Rochambeau, crossed the Susquehanna early 
 on the 8th, and pushed forward for Baltimore. He was met by a 
 deputation of the citizens, who made him a public address, to 
 which he replied, and his arrival was celebrated in the evening 
 with illuminations. On the 9th he left Baltimore a little after 
 daybreak, accompanied only by Col. Humphreys; he was determ- 
 ined to reach Mount Vernon that evening. Six years had elapsed 
 since last he was under its roof ; six wearing years of toil, of dan- 
 ger, and of constant anxiety. During all that time, and amid all 
 his military cares, he had kept up a regular weekly correspondence 
 with his steward or agent, regulating all the affairs of his rural 
 establishment with as much exactness as he did those of the army. 
 It was a late hour when he arrived at Mount Vernon; where he 
 was joined by his suite at dinner time on the following day, and by 
 the Count de Rochambeau in the evening. Gen. Chastellux and 
 his aides-de-camp arrived there on the nth, and Mount Vernon 
 was now crowded with guests, who were all entertained in the 
 ample style of old Virginia hospitality. On the 12th, tearing him- 
 self away once more from the home of his heart, Washington with 
 his military associates continued onward to join Lafayette at Wil« 
 liamsburg. 
 
5o6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 COMBINED AMERICAN AND FRENCH ARMIES BEFORE YORKTOWN — 
 SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS — PEACE ! 
 
 Lord Cornwallis had been completely roused from his dream 
 of security by the appearance, on the 28th of August, of the fleet 
 of Count de Grasse within the capes of the Delaware. Three 
 French ships of the hne and a frigate soon anchored at the mouth 
 of York River. The boats of the fleet were immediately busy con- 
 veying three thousand three hundred land forces, under the 
 Marquis de St. Simon, up James River to form the preconcerted 
 junction with those under Lafayette. Cornwallis, as Washington 
 had foreseen, meditated a retreat to the Carohnas. It was too 
 late. York River was blocked up by French ships ; James River 
 was filled with armed vessels covering the transportation of the 
 troops. Williamsburg was too strong to be forced. Seeing his 
 retreat cut off in every direction, Cornwallis proceeded to 
 strengthen his works ; sending off repeated expresses to apprise 
 Sir Henry Clinton of his perilous situation. The Count de Grasse, 
 eager to return to the West Indies, urged Lafayette to make an 
 immediate attack upon the British army, with the American and 
 French troops under his command, without Avaiting for the com- 
 bined force under Washington and Rochambeau, offering to aid 
 him with marines and sailors from the ships. The admiral was 
 seconded by the Marquis de St. Simon. It was a brilliant achieve- 
 ment which they held out to tempt the youthful commander, but 
 he remained undazzled. He would not, for the sake of personal 
 distinction, lavish the lives of the brave men confided to him; but 
 would await the arrival of the combined forces, when success 
 might be attained with little loss, and would leave to Washington 
 the coup de grace ; in all probability the closing triumph of the 
 war. The Count de Grasse had been but a few days anchored 
 within the Chesapeake, and fifteen hundred of his seamen were 
 absent, conveying the troops up James River, when Admiral 
 Graves, who then commanded the British naval force on the 
 American coast, appeared with twenty sail off the capes of Vir- 
 ginia. De Grasse, anxious to protect the squadron of the Count 
 de Barras, which was expected from Rhode Island, and which it 
 was the object of Graves to intercept, immediately slipped his 
 cables and put to sea with twenty-four ships, leaving the rest to 
 blockade York and James Rivers. His plan was to occupy the 
 enemy by partial actions and skilful manoeuvres, so as to retain his 
 possession of the Chesapeake, and cover the arrival of De Barras. 
 The vans of the two fleets, and some ships of the centre, engaged 
 about four o'cock in the afternoon of the 7th of Sept. The conflict 
 soon became animated. Several ships were damaged, and many 
 men killed and wounded on both sides. De Grasse, who had the 
 advantage of the wind, drew off after sunset ; satisfied with the 
 
1 78 1 . ] CORNWALLTS ENTRAPPED. 507 
 
 damage done and sustained, and not disposed for a general action ; 
 nor was the British admiral inclined to push the engagen^ent so 
 near night, and on a hostile coast. One of his ships had been so 
 severely handled, that she was no longer seaworthy, and had to be 
 burnt. For four days the fleets remained in sight of each other, 
 repairing damages and manoeuvring, but the French having still 
 the advantage of the wind, maintained their prudent pohcy of 
 avoiding a general engagement. At length De Grasse, learning 
 that De Barras was arrived within the capes, formed a junction 
 with him, and returned with him to his former anchoring ground, 
 with two English frigates which he had captured. Admiral 
 Graves, finding the Chesapeake guarded by a superior force with 
 which he could not prudently contend, left the coast and bore 
 away for New York. Under convoy of the squadron of De Barras 
 came a fleet of transports, conveying land forces under M. de 
 Choisy, with siege artillery and military stores. From Williams- 
 burg, Washington sent forward Count Fersen, one of the aides-de- 
 camp of De Rocham'beau, to hurry on the French troops witK all 
 possible despatch. He wrote to the same purport to Gen. Lincoln : 
 " Every day we now lose," said he, "is comparatively an age ; 
 as soon as it is in our power with safety, we ought to take our 
 position near the enemy. ITurry on, then, my dear sir, with your 
 troops, on the wings of speed. The want of our men and stores is 
 now all that retards our immediate operations. Lord Cornwallis is 
 improving every moment to the best advantage ; and every day 
 that is given him to make his preparations may cost us many lives 
 to encounter them." 
 
 Washington learned that Admiral de Barras had anticipated his 
 wishes, in sending transports and prize vessels up the bay to assist 
 in bringing on the French troops. Washington and De Rocham- 
 beau, with the Chevalier de Chastellux and Generals Knox and 
 Duportail, embarked on the 1 8th, in the Queen Charlotte, which 
 had been captured on its voyage from Charleston to New York, 
 having Lord Hovvden on board, and proceeding down James 
 River, came the next morning in sight of the French fleet riding at 
 anchor in Lynn Haven Bay, just under the point of Cape Henry. 
 About noon they got along-sicie of the admiral's ship, the Ville de 
 Paris, and were received on board with great ceremony, and naval 
 and military parade. Admiral de Grasse was a tall, fine-looking 
 man, plain in his address and prompt in tlie discharge ot business. 
 A plan of cooperation was soon an*anged, to be carried into effect 
 on the arrival of the American and" French armies from the North, 
 which were actually on their way down the Chesapeake from the 
 Head of Elk. Business being despatched, dinner was served, 
 after which they were conducted throughout the ships, and 
 received the visits of the officers of the fleet, almost all of whom 
 came on board. About sunset Washington and his companions 
 returned on board their own little ship ; when the yards of all the 
 ships of the fleet were manned, and a parting salute vt^as thundered 
 from the Ville de Paris. It was determined that a large part of the 
 French fleet should anchor in York River ; four or five vessels be 
 
5o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 stationed so as to pass up and down James River, and a battery 
 for cannon and mortars be erected with the aid of the aUied 
 trooi?s on Point Comfort. By the 25th the American and French 
 troops were mostly arrived and encamped near WilHamsburg, and 
 preparations were made for the decisive blow. Cornwallis had 
 fortified Yorktown by seven redoubts and six batteries on the land 
 side, connected by intrenchments ; and there was a line of bat- 
 teries along the river. The town was flanked on each side by deep 
 ravines and creeks emptying into York River ; their heads, in front 
 of the town, being not more than half a mile apart. The enemy 
 had availed themselves of these natural defences, in the arrange- 
 ment of extensive outworks, with redoubts strengthened by abatis ; 
 field-works mounted with cannon, and trees cut down and left 
 with the branches pointed outward. Gloucester Point had like- 
 wise been fortified. Its defence was confided to Lieut.-Col. 
 Dundas, with six or seven hundred men. The enemy's main 
 army was encamped about Yorktown, within the range of the 
 outer redoubts and field-works. 
 
 Washington and his staff bivouacked that night on the ground in 
 the open air. He slept under a mulberry tree, the root serving for 
 his pillow. On the following morning the two armies drew out ©n 
 each side of Beaver Dam Creek. The Americans, forming the 
 right wing, took station on the east side of the creek ; the French, 
 forming the left wing, on the west. That evening Cornwallis 
 received despatches from Sir Henry Clinton, informing him of the 
 arrival of Admiral Digby, and that a fleet of twenty-three ships 
 of the line, with about five thousand troops, would sail to his 
 assistance probably on Che 5th of October. That night his lord- 
 ship abandoned his outvi'orks, and drew his troops within the town. 
 These outworks were seized upon the next morning by detach- 
 ments of American light infantry and French troops, and served 
 to cover the troops employed in throwing up breastworks. The 
 combined French and American forces were now twelve thousand 
 strong, excFusive of the Virginia militia which Governor Nelson 
 had brought into the field. The treasury of Virginia was empty ; 
 the governor, fearful that the militia would disband for want of pay, 
 pledged his own property and obtained a loan at his individual 
 risk. 
 
 On the morning of the 28th of Sept. the combined armies 
 marched from Williamsburg towards Yorktown, about twelve miles 
 distant, and encamped at night within two miles of it, driving in 
 the pickets and some patrols of cavalry. Gen. de Choisy was sent 
 across York River, with Lauzun's legion and Gen. Weedon's 
 brigade of militia, to watch the enemy on the side of Gloucester 
 Point. By the first of October the line of the besiegers nearly two 
 miles from the works, formed a semicircle, each end resting on the 
 river, so that the investment by land was complete ; while the 
 Count de Grasse, with the main fleet, remained in Lynn Haven 
 Bay, to keep off assistance by sea. About this time the Americans 
 threw up two redoubts in the night, which, on being discovered in 
 the morning, were severely cannonaded. Three of the men were 
 
1/81.] SIEGE OF YORK TOWN. 509 
 
 killed and several severely wounded. While Washington was 
 superintending the works, a shot struck the ground close by him, 
 throwing up a cloud of dust. The Rev. Mr. Evans, chaplain in 
 the aiTny, who was standing by him, was greatly agitated. Tak- 
 ing off his hat and showing it covered with sand, "See here, Gen- 
 eral," exclaimed he. "Mr. Evans," said Washington with grave 
 pleasantry, "you had better carry that home, and show it to your 
 wife and children." The besieged army began now to be greatly 
 distressed for want of forage, and had to kiU many of their horses, 
 the carcasses of which were continually floating down the river. 
 In the evening of the 2d of October Tarleton with his legion and the 
 mounted infantry were passed over the river to Gloucester Point, to 
 assist in foraging. At daybreak Lieut. -Col. Dundas led out part 
 of his gaiTison to forage the neighboring country. About ten 
 o'clock the wagons and bat horses laden with Indian corn were 
 returning, and had nearly reached York River, when they en- 
 countered Lauzun and the French hussars and lancers. A skir- 
 mish ensued, gallantly sustained on each side, but the superiority 
 of Tarleton' s horses gave him the advantage. Gen. Choisy 
 hastened up with a corps of cavalry and infantry to support the 
 hussars. Tarleton ordered a retreat to be sounded, and the con- 
 flict came to an end. The loss of the British in killed and wounded 
 was one officer and eleven men ; that of the French two officers 
 and fourteen hussars. This was the last affair of Tarleton and his 
 legion in the revolutionary war. The next day Gen. Choisy, being 
 reinforced by a detachment of marines from the fleet of De 
 Grasse, cut off all communication by land between Gloucester and 
 the country. 
 
 For some weeks in the months of July and August, Gen. Greene 
 had remained encamped with his main force on the high hills of 
 Santee, refreshing and disciplining his men. In the meantime, 
 Marion with his light troops, aided by Col. Washington with his 
 dragoons, held control over the lower Santee. Lee was detached 
 to operate with Sumter's brigade on the Congaree, and Col. Harden 
 with his mounted militia was scouring the country about the Edisto.* 
 The enemy was thus harassed in every quarter; their convoys and 
 foraging parties waylaid; and Stuart was obHged to obtain all his 
 supplies from below. Greene prepared for a bold effort to drive 
 the enemy from their remaining posts. For that purpose, on the 
 22d of August he broke up his encampment on the "benign hills 
 of Santee," to march against Col. Stuart. The latter still lay 
 encamped about sixteen miles distant in a straight line; but the 
 Congaree and Wateree lay between, bordered by swamps over- 
 flowed by recent rains : to cross them and reach the hostile camp, 
 it was necessary to make a circuit of seventy miles. While Greene 
 was making it Stuart abandoned his position, and moved down 
 forty miles to the vicinity of Eutaw Springs, where he was rein- 
 forced by a detachment from Charleston with provisions. Greene 
 followed on slowly to give time for Marion, who was scouring the 
 country about the Edisto, to rejoin him. This was done on the 5th 
 of September at Laurens' place, and on the afternoon of the seventh 
 
5IO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the army was pushed on within seven miles of the Eutaws, where 
 it bivouacked for the night, Greene lying on the ground wrapped 
 in his cloak, with the root of a tree for a pillow. At four o'clock 
 in the morning his little army was in motion. His whole force at 
 that time did not exceed two thousand men; that of the enemy he 
 was seeking, about twenty-three hundred. His army advanced in 
 two columns, which were to form the two lines of battle. The 
 first column, commanded by Gen. Marion, was composed of two 
 battalions of North --and two of South Carolina militia. The 
 second column of three brigades; one of North Carolina, one of 
 Virginia, and one of Maryland Continental troops. Col. Lee with 
 his legion covered the right flank, Col. Henderson the left. Col. 
 Washington, with his dragoons and the Delaware troops, formed 
 the reserve. Each column had two field-pieces. Within four 
 miles of Eutaw they met with a British detachment of one hundred 
 and fifty infantry and fifty cavalry under Major Coffin, sent for- 
 ward to reconnoitre; it was put to flight after a severe skirmish, in 
 which a number were killed and wounded, and several taken 
 prisoners. Within a mile of the camp they encountered a body of 
 infantry drawn up in line in a wood two hundred yards west of 
 Eutaw Springs. The right rested on Eutaw Creek (or brook), and 
 was covered by a battalion of grenadiers and infantry under Major 
 Majoribanks. The left of the line extended across the Charleston 
 road, with a reserve corps in a commanding situation covering the 
 road. About fifty yards in the rear of the British line was a cleared 
 field, in which was their encampment, with the tents all standing. 
 Adjoining it was a brick house with a palisadoed garden, which 
 Col, Stuart intended as a protection, if too much pressed by 
 cavalry. The advanced party of infantry, which had retired 
 firing before the Americans, formed on the flanks of Col, Stuart's 
 line. About nine o'clock the action was commenced by the left of 
 the American line, and soon became general; there was great 
 carnage on both sides. The militia fought until they had expended 
 seventeen rounds, when they gave way, covered by Lee and 
 Henderson, who fought bravely on the flanks of the line. Sum- 
 ner, with the regulars who formed the second line, advanced in 
 fine style to take the place of the first. The enemy likewise 
 brought their reserve into action; the conflict continued to be 
 bloody and severe. Col. Henderson, who commanded the State 
 troops in the second line, was severely wounded; this caused some 
 confusion. Sumner's brigade, formed partly of recruits, gave way 
 under the superior fire of the enemy. The British rushed forward 
 to secure their fancied victory. Greene, seeing their line disor- 
 dered, instantly ordered Williams with his Mary landers to " sweep 
 the field with the bayonet." William.s was seconded by Col. 
 Campl^ell with the Virginians. The order was gallantly obeyed. 
 They delivered a deadly volley at forty yards' distance, and then 
 advanced at a brisk rate, with loud shouts and trailed arms, pre- 
 pared to make the deadly thrust. The British recoiled. While 
 the Marylanders and Virginians attacked them in front, Lee with 
 his legion turned their left flank and charged them in rear. Col. 
 
1781.] BA TTLE OF EUTA W SPRINGS. 5 1 1 
 
 Hampton with the State cavalry made a great number of prisoners, 
 and Col. Washington, coming up with his reserve of horse and 
 foot, completed their defeat. They were driven back through 
 their camp; many were captured; many fled along the Charleston 
 road, and ethers threw themselves into the brick house. Major 
 Majoribanks and his troops could still enfilade the left flank of the 
 Americans from their covert among the thickets on the border of 
 the stream, Greene ordered Col. Washington with his dragoons 
 and KirkAvood's Delaware infantry to dislodge them, and Col. 
 Wade Hampton to assist with the State troops. Col. Washington, 
 without Availing for the infantry, dashed forward with his dragoons. 
 It was a rash move. The thickets were impervious to cavalry. 
 The dragoons separated into small squads, and endeavored to 
 force their way in. Horses and riders were shot down or bayon- 
 eted; most of the officers were either killed or wounded. Col. 
 Washington had his horse shot under him; he himself was 
 bayoneted, and a British officer took him prisoner. By the time 
 Hampton and Kirkwood came up, the cavalry were routed; the 
 ground was strewed with the dead and the wounded; horses were 
 plunging and struggling in the agonies of death; others galloping 
 about without their riders. While Hampton rallied the scattered 
 cavalry, Kirkwood with his Delawares charged with bayonet upon 
 the enemy in the thickets. Majoribanks fell back with his troops, 
 and made a stand in the palisadoed garden of the brick house. 
 Victory now seemed certain on the side of the Americans. They 
 had driven the British from the field, and had taken possession of 
 their camp; unfortunately, the soldiers, thinking the day their own, 
 fell to plundering the tents, devouring the food and carousing on 
 the liquors found there. Many of them became intoxicated and 
 unmanageable — the officers interfered in vain; all was riot and 
 disorder. The enemy in the meantime recovered from their 
 confusion, and opened a fire from every window of the house and 
 from the palisadoed garden. There was a scattering fire also from 
 the woods and thickets on the right and left. Four cannon, one 
 of which had been captured from the enemy, were now advanced 
 by the Americans to batter the house. The fire from the Avindows 
 Avas so severe, that most of the officers and men who served the can- 
 non Avere either killed orAvounded. Greene ordered the survivors 
 to retire : they did so, leaving the cannon behind. Col. Stuart was 
 by this time rallying his left wing, and advancing to support the right; 
 when Greene, finding his ammunition nearly exhausted, determined 
 to give up the attempt to dislodge the enemy from their places of 
 refuge, since he could not do it without severe loss. He remained 
 on the ground long enough to collect his Avounded, excepting those 
 Avho Avere too much under the fire of the house, and then, leaving 
 Col. Hampton Avith a strong picket on the field, he returned to the 
 position seven miles off, Avhich he had left in the morning. The 
 enemy decamped in the night after destroying a large quantity of 
 provisions, staving many barrels of rum, and breaking upAvards of 
 a thousand stand of arms Avhich they thrcAv into the springs of the 
 Eutaw; they left behind also seventy of their wounded, Avho might 
 
512 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 have impeded the celerity of their retreat. Their loss in killed, 
 •wounded, and captured, in this action, was six hundred and thirty- 
 three, of whom five hundred were prisoners in the hands of the 
 Americans; the loss sustained by the latter in killed, wounded and 
 missing, was five hundred and thirty-five. One of the slain most 
 deplored was Col. Campbell, who had so bravely led on the Vir- 
 ginians. He fell in the shock of the charge with the bayonet. It 
 ■was a glorious close of a gallant career. In his dying moments 
 he was told of the defeat of the enemy, and is said to have uttered 
 the celebrated ejaculation of General Wolfe, " I die contented." 
 Gen. Lincoln had the honor, on the night of the 6th of October, 
 of opening the first parallel before Yorktown. It was within six 
 hundred yards of the enemy; nearly two miles in extent, and the 
 foundations were laid for two redoubts. He had under him a large 
 detachment of French and American troops, and the work was 
 conducted with such silence and secrecy in a night of extreme 
 darkness, that the enemy were not aware of it until dayhght. A 
 severe cannonade was then opened from the fortifications; but the 
 men were under cover and continued working; the greatest emula- 
 tion and good will prevailing between the officers and soldiers of 
 the allied armies thus engaged. By the afternoon of the 9th the 
 parallel was completed, and two or three batteries were ready to 
 fire upon the town. " General Washington put the match to the 
 first gun," says an observer who was present; "a furious discharge 
 of cannon and mortars immediately followed, and Earl Cornwallis 
 received his first salutation."" Gov. Nelson, who had so nobly 
 pledged his own property to raise funds for the public service, 
 gave another proof of his self-sacrificing patriotism on this occa- 
 sion. He was asked which part of the town could be most effec- 
 tively cannonaded. He pointed to a large handsome house on a 
 rising ground as the probable headquarters of the enemy. It 
 proved to be his own. The governor had an uncle in the town, 
 very old, and afilicted with the gout. He had been for thirty years 
 secretary under the royal colonial government, and was still called 
 Mr. Secretary Nelson. He had taken no part in the Revolution, 
 unfitted, perhaps, for the struggle, by his advanced age and his 
 infirmities; and had remained in Yorktown when taken possession 
 of by the English. He had two sons in Washington's army, who 
 now were in the utmost alarm for his safety. At their request 
 Washington sent in a flag, desiring that their father might be 
 permitted to leave the place. Cornwallis granted the request. The 
 appearance of the venerable secretary, his stately person, noble 
 countenance and gray hairs, commanded respect and veneration. 
 He related with a serene visage what had been the effect of our 
 batteries. His house had received some of the first shots; one of 
 his negroes had been killed, and the headquarters of Lord Corn- 
 wallis had been so battered, that he had been driven out of them. 
 The cannonade was kept up almost incessantly for three or four 
 days from the batteries above mentioned, and from three others 
 managed by the French. The half-finished works of the enemy 
 suffered severely, the guns were dismounted or silenced, and many 
 
I78i.] SIEGE OF YORKTOWN. 513 
 
 men killed. The red-hot shot from the French batteries north-west 
 of the town reached the Enghsh shipping. The Charon, a forty- 
 four gun ship, and three large transports, were set on fire by them. 
 The flames ran up the ragging to the tops of the masts. The con- 
 flagration, seen in the darkness of the night, with the accompany- 
 ing flash and thundering of cannon, and soaring and bursting of 
 shells; and the tremendous explosions of the ships, all presented a 
 scene of mingled magnificence and horror. On the night of the 
 nth the second parallel wks opened by the Baron Steuben's divis- 
 ion, within three hundred yards of the works. The British now 
 made new embrasures, and for two or three days kept up a galling 
 fire upon those at work. The latter were still more annoyed by 
 the flanking fire of two redoubts three hundred yards in front of 
 the British works. As they enfiladed the intrenchments, and were 
 supposed also to command the communication between Yorktown 
 and Gloucester, it was resolved to storm them both, on the night 
 of the 14th; the one nearest the river by a detachment of Ameri- 
 oans commanded by Lafayette; the other by a French detach- 
 ment led by the Baron de Viomenil. The grenadiers of the 
 rogiment of Gatinais were to be at the head of the French detach- 
 ment. This regiment had been formed out of that of Auvergne, 
 of which De Rochambeau had been colonel, and which, by its 
 brave and honorable conduct, had won the appellation of the 
 regiment U Auvergne sans tache (Auvergne without a stain). 
 In the arrangements for the American assault Lafayette had given 
 the honor of leading the advance to his own aide-de-camp, Lieut. - 
 Col. Gimat. This instantly touched the military pride of Hamilton, 
 who exclaimed against it as an unjust preference. Washington 
 sent for the marquis, and, finding that it really was Hamilton's 
 tour of duty, directed that he should be reinstated in it, which was 
 done. It was therefore arranged that Col. Gimat' s battalion should 
 lead the van, and be followed by that of Hamilton, and that the 
 latter should command the whole advanced corps. About eight 
 o'clock in the evening rockets were sent up as signals for the 
 simultaneous attack. Hamilton, to his great joy, led the advance 
 of the Americans. The men, without waiting for the sapf>ers to 
 demolish the abatis in regular style, pushed them aside or pulled 
 them down with their hands, and scrambled over, like rough bush- 
 fighters. Hamilton was the first to mount the parapet, placing 
 one foot on the shoulder of a soldier, who knelt on one knee for 
 the purpose. The men mounted after him. Not a musket was 
 fired. The redoubt was carried at the point of the bayonet. The 
 loss of the Americans was one sergeant and eight privates killed, 
 seven officers and twenty-five non-commissioned officers and 
 privates wounded. The loss of the enemy was eight killed and 
 seventeen taken prisoners. Among the latter was Major Camp>- 
 bell, who had commanded the redoubt. The French stormed the 
 other redoubt, which was more strongly garrisoned, with equal 
 gallantry, but less precipitation. They proceeded according to 
 rule. The soldiers paused while the sappers removed the abatis^ 
 during vihich time they were exposed to a destructive fire, and lost 
 17 
 
514 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 more men than did the Americans in their headlong attack. As 
 the Baron de Viomenil, who led the party, was thus waiting, 
 Major Barbour, Lafayette's aide-de-camp, came through the 
 tremendous fire of the enemy, with a message from the marquis, 
 letting him know that he was in his redoubt, and wished to know 
 where the Baron was. "Tell the marquis," repHed the latter, 
 "that I am not in mine, but will be in it in five minutes." The 
 abatis being removed, the troops rushed to the assault. The 
 Chevalier de Lameth, Lafayette's adjutant-general, was the first 
 to mount the parapet of the redoubt, and received a volley at 
 arms' length from the Hessians who manned it. Shot through 
 both knees, he fell back into the ditch, and was conveyed away 
 imder care of his friend, the Count de Dumas. The Count de 
 Deuxponts, leading on the royal grenadiers of the same name, 
 was likewise wounded. The grenadiers of the Gatinais regiment 
 fought with true Gallic fire. One third of them were slain, and 
 among them Captain de Sireuil, a valiant officer of chasseurs; but 
 the regiment by its bravery on this occasion regained from the 
 king its proud name of the Royal Ativergne. Washington was 
 an ihtensely excited spectator of these assaults, on the result of 
 which so much depended. He had dismounted, given his horse 
 to a servant, and taken his stand in the grand battery with Generals 
 Knox and Lincoln and their staffs. The risk he ran of a chance 
 shot, while watching the attack through an embrasure, made those 
 about him uneasy. One of his aides-de-camp ventured to observe 
 that the situation was very much exposed. " If you think so," 
 replied he gravely, "you are at liberty to step back." Shortly 
 afterwards a musket ball struck the cannon in the embrasure, 
 rolled along it, and fell at his feet. Gen. Knox grasped his arm. 
 "My dear general," exclaimed he, "we can't spare you yet." 
 " It is a spent ball," replied Washington quietly; "no harm is 
 done." When all was over and the redoubts were taken, he drew 
 a long breath, and turning to Knox, observed, " The work is done, 
 and well done f' Then he called to his servant, " William, bring 
 me my horse. " In his despatches he declared that in these assaults 
 nothing could exceed the firmness and bravery of the troops. 
 Lafayette also testified to the conduct of Col. Hamilton, "whose 
 well-known talents and gallantry," writes he, "were on this occa- 
 sion most conspicuous and serviceable." The redoubts thus taken 
 were included the same night in the second parallel, and howitzers 
 were mounted upon them the following day. The capture of them 
 reduced Lord Cornwalhs almost to despair. Writing that same 
 day to Sir Henry Clinton, he observes, " My situation now becomes 
 very critical; we dare not show a gun to their old batteries, and I 
 expect that their new ones will open to-morrow morning. The 
 safety of the j^ace is, therefore, so precarious, that I cannot recom- 
 mend that the fleet and army should run great risk in endeavor- 
 ing to save us." The second parallel was now nearly ready to 
 open. Cornwalhs dreaded the effect of its batteries on his almost 
 dismantled works. To retard the danger as much as possible, he 
 ordered an attack on two of the batteries that were in the greatest 
 
t78i.] CORNIVALLIS TRIES TO ESCAPE. 515 
 
 state of forwardness. It was made a little before daybreak of the 
 l6th, by about three hundred and fifty men, under the direction 
 of Lieut. -Col. Abercrombie. He divided his forces; a detachment 
 of guards and a company of grenadiers attacked one battery, and 
 a corps of light infantry the other. The redoubts which covered 
 the batteries were forced in gallant style, and several pieces of 
 artillery hastily spiked. By this time the supporting troops from the 
 trenches came up, and the enemy were obliged to retreat, leaving 
 behind them seven or eight dead and six prisoners, The French 
 who had guard of this part of the trenches, had four officers and 
 twelve privates killed or wounded, and tlie Americans lost one 
 sergeant. The mischief had been done too hastily. The spikes 
 were easily extracted, and before evening all the batteries and the 
 parallel were nearly complete. At this time the garrison could 
 not show a gun on the side of the works exposed to attack, and 
 the shells were nearly expended; the place was no longer tenable. 
 Rather than surrender, Cornwallis detennined to attempt an 
 escape. In pursuance of this design, sixteen large boats were 
 secretly prepared; a detachment was appointed to remain and 
 capitulate for the town's people, the sick and the wounded; a large 
 part of the troops were transported to the Gloucester side of the 
 river before midnight, and the second division had actually 
 embarked, when a violent storm of wind and rain scattered the 
 boats, and drove them a considerable distance down the river. 
 They were collected with difficulty. It was now too late to effect 
 the passage of the second division before daybreak, and an effort 
 was made to get back the division which had already crossed. It 
 was not done until the morning was far advanced, and the troops 
 in recrossing were exposed to the fire of the American batteries. 
 The hopes of Cornwallis were now at an end. His works were 
 tumbling in ruins about him, under an incessant cannonade; his 
 garrison was reduced in number by sickness and death, and 
 exhausted by constant watching and Severe duty. Unwilling to 
 expose the residue of the brave troops which had stood by him so faith- 
 fully, to the dangers and horrors of an assault, which could not 
 fail to be successful, he ordered a parley to be beaten about ten 
 o' clock on the morning of the 1 7th of October and despatched a flag 
 with a letter to Washington proposing a cessation of hostilities for 
 twenty-four hours, and that two officers might be appointed by 
 each side to meet and settle terms for the surrender of the posts 
 of York and Gloucester. Washington felt unwilling to grant such 
 delay, when reinforcements might be on the way for Cornwallis 
 from New York. In reply, therefore, he requested that, previous 
 to the meeting of commissioners, his lordship's proposals might be 
 sent in writing to the American lines, for which purpose a suspen- 
 sion of hostilities during two hours from the delivery of the letter, 
 would be granted. This was complied with; but as the proposals 
 offered by Cornwallis were not all admissible, Washington drew 
 up a schedule of such terms as he would grant, and transmitted 
 it to his lordship. The armistice was prolonged. Commissioners 
 met, the Viscount de Noailles and Liout.-Col. Laurens on the pait 
 
5i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of the allies; Col. Dundas and Major Ross on the part of the 
 British. After much discussion, a rough draft was made of the 
 terms of capitulation to be submitted to the British general. These 
 Washington caused to be promptly transcribed, and sent to Lord 
 Cornwallis early in the morning of the 19th, with a note expressing 
 his expectation that they would be signed by eleven o'clock, and 
 that the garrison would be ready to march out by two o'clock in 
 the afternoon. Cornwallis was fain to comply, and, accordingly, 
 on the same day, the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester were 
 surrendered to Gen. Washington as commander-in-chief of the 
 combined army; and the ships of war, transports and other vessels, 
 to the Count de Grasse, as commander of the French fleet. The 
 garrison of Yorktown and Gloucester, including the officers of the 
 navy and seamen of every denomination, were to surrender as 
 prisoners of war to the combined army; the land force to remain 
 prisoners to the United States, the seamen to the King of France. 
 The garrison was to be allowed the same honors granted to the 
 garrison of Charleston when it surrendered to Sir Henry Clinton. 
 The officers were to retain their side anns ; both officers and 
 soldiers their private property, and no part of their baggage or 
 papers was to be subject to search or inspection. The soldiers 
 were to be supplied with the same rations of provisions as the 
 American soldiers. The officers were to be permitted to proceed, 
 upon parole, to Europe or to any maritime port on the continent of 
 America in possession of British troops. The Bonetta sloop-of-war 
 was to be at the disposal of Lord Cornwallis; to convey an aide- 
 de-camp with despatches to Sir Henry Clinton, with such soldiers 
 as he might think proper to send to New York, and was to sail 
 Avitfiout examination. Gen. Lincoln received the submission of 
 the royal army, precisely in the manner in which the submission of 
 his own arn'iy had been received on the surrender of Charleston. 
 An eye-witness has given us a graphic description of the ceremony. 
 "At about 12 o'clock the combined army was drawn up in two 
 lines more than a mile in length, the Americans on the right side 
 of the road, the French on the left. Washington, mounted on a 
 noble steed, and attended by his staff, was in front of the former; 
 the Count de Rochambeau and his suit, of the latter. The French 
 troops, in complete uniform, and well equipped, made a brilliant 
 appearance, and had marched to the ground with a band of music 
 playing, which was a novelty in the American service. The 
 American troops, but part in uniform, and all in garments much 
 the worse for wear, yet had a spirited, soldier-hke air, and were 
 not the worse in the eyes of their countrymen for bearing the 
 marks of hard service and great privations. The concourse of 
 spectators from the country seemed equal in number to the military, 
 yet silence and order prevailed. About two o'clock the garrison 
 salhed forth, and passed through with shouldered arms, slow and 
 solemn steps, colors cased, and drums beating a British march. 
 They were all well clad, having been furnished with new suits 
 prior to the capitulation. They were led by Gen. O'Hara on horse- 
 back, who, riding up to General Washington, took off his hat and 
 
iySj.] SURRENDER OF THE BRITISH ARMY. 517 
 
 apologized for the non-appearance of Lord Cornwallis, on account 
 of indisposition. Washington received him with dignified cour- 
 tesy, but pointed to Major-general Lincoln as the officer Avho was 
 to receive the submission of the garrison. By him they were con- 
 ducted into a field where they were to ground their arms. In pass- 
 ing through the line formed by the allied army, their march was 
 careless and irregular, and their aspect sullen, the order to "ground 
 arms'* was given by their platoon officers with a tone of deep 
 chagrin, and many of the soldiers threw down their muskets with 
 a violence sufficient to break them. This ceremony over, they 
 were conducted back to Yorktown, to remain under guard until 
 removed to their places of destination." The number of prison- 
 ers made by the capitulation (says Holmes's Annals) amounted to 
 7,073, of whom 5,950 were rank and file ; six commissioned, and 
 twenty-eight non-commissioned officers, and privates, had previ- 
 ously been captured in the two redoubts, or in tlie sortie of the 
 garrison. The loss sustained by the garrison during the siege, 
 in killed, wounded, and missing, amounted to 552. That of the 
 combined army in killed was about 300. The combined army to 
 which Cornwallis surrendered, was estimated at 16,000, of whom 
 7,000 were French, 5,500 continentals, and 3,500 militia. 
 
 On the following morning, Washington in general orders con- 
 gratulated the allied armies on the recent victory, awarding high 
 praise to the officers and troops both French and American, for 
 their conduct during the siege, and specifying by name several of 
 the generals and other officers who had especially distinguished 
 themselves. All those of his army who were under arrest, were 
 pardoned and set at liberty. " Divine service," it was added, "is 
 to be performed to-morrow in the several brigades and divisions. 
 The commander-in-chief earnestly recommends that the troops, 
 not on duty, should universally attend, with that seriousness of 
 deportment and gratitude of heart which the recognition of such 
 reiterated and astonishing interpositions of Providence demand of 
 us." CornwaUis felt deeply the humiliation of this close to all his 
 wide and wild campaigning, and was made the more sensitive on 
 the subject by circumstances of which he soon became apprised. 
 On the very day that he had been compelled to lay down his arms 
 before Yorktown, the lingering armament intended for his rehef 
 sailed from New York. It consisted of twenty-five ships of the 
 line, two fifty-gun ships, and eight frigates, with Sir Henry Clinton 
 and seven thousand of his best troops. Sir Henry arrived off the 
 Capes of Virginia on the 24th. He hovered off the mouth of the 
 Chesapeake until the 29th, when, having fully ascertained that he 
 had come too late, he turned his tardy prows toward New York. 
 
 In the meantime, the rejoicings which Washington had com- 
 menced with appropriate solemnities in the victorious camp, had 
 spread throughout the Union. " CornwalUs is taken!" was the 
 universal acclaim. It was considered a death-blow to the war. 
 'Congress gave way to transports of joy. Thanks were voted to 
 the commander-in-chief, to the Counts De Rochambeau and De 
 Grasse, to the officers of the allied armies generally, and to the 
 
5i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 corps of artillery and engineers especially. Two stands of colors, 
 trophies of the capitulation, were voted to Washington, two pieces 
 of field ordnance to De Rochambeau and De Grasse ; and it was 
 decreed that a marble col-umn, commemorative of the alliance be- 
 tw^een France and the United States, and of the victory achieved 
 by their associated arms, should be erected in Yorktown. Finally. 
 Congress issued a proclamation, appointing a day for general 
 thanksgiving and prayer, in acknowledgment of this signal inter- 
 position of Divine Providence. Far different was the feeling of 
 the Bridsh ministry when news of the event reached the other side 
 of the Atlantic. Lord George Germain was the first to announce 
 it to Lord North at his office in Downing street. "And how did 
 he take it?" was the inquiry. "As he would have taken a ball in 
 the breast," replied Lord George, "for he opened his arms, ex- 
 claiming wildly as he paced up and down the apartment, 'Oh 
 God! it is all over! 
 
 Washington would have followed up the reduction of Yorktown 
 by a combined operation against Charleston, and addressed a let- 
 ter to the Count de Grasse on the subject, but the count alleged in 
 reply that the orders of his court, ulterior projects, and his engage- 
 ments with the Spaniards, rendered it impossilDle to remain the nec- 
 essary time for the operation. The prosecution of the Southern 
 war, therefore, upon the broad scale which Washington had con- 
 templated, had to be relinquished ; and he detached two thousand 
 Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia Continental troops, under 
 Gen. St. Clair, for the support of Gen. Greene, trusting that, with 
 this aid, he would be able to command the interior of South Caro- 
 lina, and confine the enemy to the town of Charleston. A dissolu- 
 tion of the combined forces now took place. The Marquis St. 
 Simon embarked his troops on the last of October, and the Count de 
 Grasse made sail on the 4th of November,taking w-ith him two beauti- 
 ful horses which W^ashington had presented to him in token of 
 cordial regard. The British prisoners were marched to Winchester 
 in Virginia, and Frederickstown in Maryland, and Lord Corn- 
 wallis "and his principal officers sailed for New York on parole. 
 The main part of the American army embarked for the Head of 
 Elk, and returned northward under the command of Gen. Lincoln, 
 to be cantoned for the winter in the Jerseys and on the Hudson. 
 The French army were to remain for the winter, in Virginia, and 
 the Count de Rochambeau established his headquarters at Wil- 
 liamsburg. Washington left Yorktown on the 5th of November, 
 and arrived the same day at Eltham, the seat of his friend Col. 
 Bassett. Pie arrived just in time to receive the last breath of John 
 Parke Custis, the son of Mrs. Washington, as he had, several 
 years previously, rendered tender and pious offices at the death- 
 bed of his sister. Miss Custis. The deceased had been an object 
 of Washington's care from childhood, and been cherished by him 
 with paternal affection. Formed under his guidance and instruc- 
 tions, he had been fitted to take a part in the public concerns of 
 his country, and had acquitted himself with credit as a member of 
 the Virginia Legislature. He was but twenty-eight years old at 
 
1782.] PROSPECTS OF PEACE, 519 
 
 the time of his death, and left a widow and four young children. 
 It was an unexpected event, and the dying scene was rendered 
 peculiarly affecting from the presence of the mother and wife of 
 the deceased. Washington remained several days at Eltham to 
 comfort them in their afflictions. As a consolation to Mrs. Wash- 
 ington in her bereavement, he adopted the two youngest children 
 of the deceased, a boy and girl, who thenceforth formed a part of 
 his immediate family. From Eltham he proceeded to Mount 
 Vernon ; but public cares gave him little leisure to attend to his 
 private concerns. We have seen how repeatedly his steady mind 
 had been exercised in the darkest times of the revolutionary strug- 
 gle, in buoying up the public heart when sinking into despondency. 
 He had now an opposite task to perform, to guard against an 
 overweening confidence inspired by the recent triumph. In a let- 
 ter to Gen. Greene, he writes: "I shall remain but a few days 
 here, and shall proceed to Philadelphia, when I shall attempt to 
 stimulate Congress to the best improvement of our late success, by 
 taking the most vigorous and effectual measures to be ready for an 
 early and decisive campaign the next year." In a letter to 
 Lafayette, who, having obtained from Congress an indefinite 
 leave of absence, was about to sail, he says : " I owe it to 
 your friendship and to my affectionate regard for you, my dear 
 marquis, not to let you leave this country, without carrying with 
 you fresh marks of my attachment to you, and new expressions of 
 the high sense I entertain of your military conduct, and other im- 
 portant services in the course of the last campaign." In reply to 
 inquiries which the marquis had made respecting the operations of 
 the coming year, he declares that everything must depend abso- 
 lutely for success upon the naval force to be employed in these 
 seas and the time of its appearance. " A doubt did not exist, nor 
 does it at this moment, in any man's mind, of the total extirpation 
 of the British force in the Carolinas and Georgia, if the Count de 
 Grasse could have extended his cooperation two months longer." 
 Towards the end of November, Washington was in Philadelphia, 
 where Congress received him with distinguished honors. 
 
 He again established his headquarters at Newburg on the Hud- 
 son. The solicitude felt by him on account of the universal 
 relaxation of the sinews of war, was not allayed by reports of 
 pacific speeches, and motions made in the British parliament, 
 which might be delusive. " No nation," said he, " ever yet suffered 
 in treaty by preparing, even in the moment of negotiation, most 
 vigorously for the field." 
 
 Sir Guy Carleton arrived in New York early in May to take the 
 place of Sir Henry Clinton, who had solicited his recall. In a let- 
 ter dated May 7th, Sir Guy informed Washington of his being 
 joined with Admiral Digby in the commission of peace ; he trans- 
 mitted at the same time printed copies of the proceedings in the 
 House of Commons on the 4th of March respecting an address to 
 the king in favor of peace ; and of a bill reported in consequence 
 •thereof, authorizing the king to conclude a peace or truce with the 
 revolted provinces of North America, 
 
520 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Great discontents prevailed at this time in the army, both among 
 officers and men. There was scarce money sufficient to feed the 
 troops from day to day; indeed, there were days when they were 
 absolutely in want of provisions. The pay of the officers, too, was 
 greatly in arrear ; many of them doubted whether they would ever 
 receive the half-pay decreed to them by Congress for a term of 
 years after the conclusion of the war, and fears began to be ex- 
 pressed that, in the event of peace, they would all be disbanded 
 with their claims unliquidated, and themselves cast upon the com- 
 munity penniless, and unfitted, by long military habitudes, for the 
 gainful pursuits of peace. At this juncture, Washington received 
 an extraordinary letter from Col. Lewis Nicola, a veteran officer, 
 once commandant of Fort Mifflin, who had been inhabits of inti- 
 macy with him, and had warmly interceded in behalf of the suffer- 
 ing army. In this letter he attributed all the ills experienced and 
 anticipated by the army and the public at large, to a repubhcan 
 form of government, and advised a mixed government like that of 
 England. "In that case," he adds, "it will, I believe, be un- 
 controverted, that the same abilities which have led us through 
 difficulties apparently insurmountable by human power, to victory 
 and glory ; those qualities that have merited and obtained the uni- 
 versal esteem and'veneration of an army, would be most likely to 
 conduct and direct us in the smoother paths of peace." Washing- 
 ton saw at once that Nicola was but the organ of a mihtary fac- 
 tion, disposed to make the army the basis of an energetic govern- 
 ment, and to place him at the head. The suggestion, backed by 
 the opportunity, might have tempted a man of meaner ambition : 
 from him it drew the following indignant letter : " If I am not 
 deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have found a 
 person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. Let me 
 conjure you, 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." 
 
 On the 2d of August, Sir Guy Carleton and Admiral Digby 
 wrote a joint letter to Washington, informing him that negotiations 
 for a general peace had already been commenced at Paris, and 
 that the independence of the United States would be proposed in 
 the first instance by the British commissioner, instead of being 
 made a condition of a general treaty. Even yet, Washington was 
 wary. " From the former infatuation, duplicity, and perverse sys- 
 tem of British policy," said he, "I confess I am induced to doubt 
 everything; to suspect everything." No offers had been made on 
 the part of Great Britain, for a general cessation of hostilities, and, 
 although the British commanders were in a manner tied down by 
 the resolves of the House of Commons, to a defensive war only in 
 the United States, they might be at liberty to transport part of their 
 force to the West Indies, to act against the French possessions in 
 that quarter. He wrote to the Count de Rochambeau advising him, 
 for the good of the common cause, to march his troops to the 
 banks of the Hudson, and form a junction with the American 
 
1783.J GRIEVANCES OF THE ARMY. 521 
 
 army. The junction took place about the middle of September. 
 The French army crossed the Hudson at King's Ferry to Ver- 
 planck's Point, where the American forces were paraded under 
 arms to welcome them. The clothing and arms recently received 
 from France or captured at Yorktown, enabled them to make an 
 unusually respectable appearance. The French army encamped 
 on the left of the American, near the Crompond, about ten miles 
 from Verplanck's Point. The greatest good will continued to pre- 
 vail between the allied forces, though the Americans had but little 
 means of showing hospitality to their gay Gallic friends. 
 
 Washington established his headquarters at Newburgh. In the 
 leisure and idleness of a winter camp, the discontents of the army 
 had time to ferment. The arrearages of pay became a topic of 
 constant and angry comment, as well as the question whether the 
 resolution of Congress, granting half pay to officers who should 
 serve to the end of the war, would be carried into effect. The 
 national treasury was empty; the States were slow to tax them- 
 selves; the resource of foreign loans was nearly exhausted. The 
 articles of confederation required the concurrence of nine States 
 to any act appropriating money. There had never been nine 
 States in favor of the half pay establishment; was it probable that 
 as many would concur in the payment of claims known to be 
 unpopular, and the support of men, who, the necessity for their 
 services being at an end, might be regarded as drones in the com- 
 munity ? A memorial to Congress in December, from the officers 
 in camp, on behalf of the army, represented the hardships of the 
 case, and proposed that a specific sum should be granted them for 
 the money actually due, and as a commutation for half pay. The 
 memorial gave rise to animated and long discussions in Congress. 
 Some members were for admitting the claims as founded on 
 engagements entered into by the nation; others were for referring 
 them to the respective States of the claimants. On the loth of 
 March, 1783, an anonymous paper was circulated through the 
 camp, calling a meeting at eleven o'clock the next day, of the 
 general and field-officers, of an officer from each company, and a 
 delegate from the medical staff, to consider a letter just received 
 from their representatives in Philadelphia, and what measures, if 
 any, should be adopted to obtain that redress of grievances which 
 they seemed to have solicited in vain. On the following morning 
 an anonymous address (written, as he subsequently avowed, by 
 Gen. John Armstrong), to the the officers of the army was privately 
 put into circulation. It professed to be from a fellow-soldier, who 
 had shared in their toils and mingled in their dangers, and who 
 till very lately had believed in the justice of his country. "After 
 a pursuit of seven long years," observed he, " the object for which 
 we set out is at length brought within our reach. Your suffering 
 courage has conducted the United States of America through a 
 doubtful and bloody war ; it has placed her in the chair of inde- 
 pendency, and peace returns to bless — whom? a country willing to 
 redress your wrongs, cherish your worth, and reward your ser- 
 vices? a country courting your return to private life, with 
 
522 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 tears of gratitude and smiles of admiration ? Or is it rather a 
 country that tramples upon your rights, disdains your cries, and 
 insults your distress? Have you not more than once suggested 
 your wishes, and made known your wants to Congress — wants and 
 wishes which gratitude and policy should have anticipated, rather 
 than evaded? How have you been answered? Let the letter, 
 which you are called to consider to-morrow, make reply. If you 
 have sense enough to discover, and spirits sufficient to oppose 
 tyranny, under whatever garb it may assume, whether it be the 
 plain coat of republicanism, or the splendid robe of royalty; if 
 you have yet learned to discriminate between a people and cause, 
 between men and principles; awake, attend to your situation, and 
 redress yourselves ! If the present moment be lost, every future 
 effort is in vain; and your threats then will be as empty as your 
 entreaties now." 
 
 This dangerous appeal called for the full exercise of Washing- 
 ton's characteristic firmness, caution and discrimination. With a 
 view to counteract its effects, he requested a like meeting of officers 
 on the 1 5th instant, to hear the report of the committee deputed to 
 Congress. "After mature deliberation," added he, "they will 
 devise what further measures ought to be adopted as most 
 rational and best calculated to obtain the just and important object 
 in view." On Saturday, the 15th of March, the meeting took 
 place. Washington had previously sent for the officers, one by 
 one, in private, and enlarged on the loss of character to the whole 
 army, that would result from intemperate resolutions. Gen, Gates 
 was called to the chair. Washington rose and apologized for 
 appearing -there, which he had not intended to do when he issued 
 the order directing the assemblage. The diligence, however, which 
 had been used in circulating anonymous writings, rendered it neces- 
 sary he should give his sentiments to the army. •' If my conduct 
 heretofore," said he, "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 moment, but when called from you on 
 public 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 
 as 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 last stage of 
 the war that I am indifferent to its interests. For myself, a recol- 
 lection 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 honor 
 to command, will oblige me to declare in this pubhc and solemn 
 manner, that for the attainment of complete justice for all your 
 toils and dangers, and the gratification of every wish, so far as 
 may be done consistently with the great duty I owe my country and 
 
1^83.] " LAST STAGE OF PERFECTIONr 523 
 
 those powers we are bound to respect, you may fully command my 
 services to the utmost extent of my abUities. While I give you these 
 assurances, let me entreat you, gentlemen, not to take any meas- 
 ures which, viewed in the calm light of reason, will lessen the dig- 
 nity 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 measures in their power to render ample justice 
 to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me con- 
 jure you, in the name of our common country, as you value your 
 own sacred honor, 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 the man who wishes, 
 under specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country; 
 and who wickedly attempts to open the flood-gates of civil discord, 
 and deluge our rising empire in blood. Give one more distin- 
 guished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue; and 
 you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for pos- 
 terity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have 
 exhibited 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' " Major Shaw, who was present, 
 and from whose memoir we note this scene, relates that Washing- 
 ton, after concluding the address, read the first paragraph of a let- 
 ter from the Hon. Joseph Jones, a member of Congress, made a 
 short pause, took out his spectacles, and begged the indulgence of 
 his audience while he put them on, observing at the same time 
 that he had grown gray in their service, and now fotmd himself 
 grooving blind. "There was something," adds Shaw, "so nat- 
 ural, so unaffected, in this appeal, as rendered it superior to the 
 most studied oratory; it forced its way to the heart, and you might 
 see sensibility moisten every eye. Happy for America, that she 
 has a patriot army, and equally so that Washington is its leader. 
 I rejoice in the opportunity I have had of seeing this great man in 
 a variety of situations; — calm and intrepid when the battle raged; 
 patient and persevering under the pressure of misfortune, moder- 
 ate and possessing himself in the full career of victory. Great as 
 these qualifications deservedly render him, he never appeared to 
 me more truly so than at the assembly we have been speaking of. 
 On other occasions he has been supported by the exertions of an 
 army and the countenance of his friends; but on this he stood single 
 and alone. There was no saying where the passions of an army 
 which were not a little inflamed, might lead; but it was generally 
 allowed that further forbearance was dangerous, and moderation 
 had ceased to be a virtue. Under these circumstances he appeared, 
 not at the head of his troops, but, as it were, in opposition to them; 
 and for a dreadful moment the interests of the army and its gen- 
 eral seemed to be in competition ! He spoke, — every doubt was 
 
524 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 dispelled, and the tide of patriotism rolled again in its wonted 
 course. Illustrious man ! What he says of the army may with 
 equal justice be applied to his own character : — ' Had this day 
 
 BEEN WANTING, THE WORLD HAD NEVER SEEN THE LAST STAGE OF 
 PERFECTION TO WHICH HUMAN NATURE IS CAPABLE OF ATTAIN- 
 ING.* " 
 
 The moment Washington retired from the assemblage, a reeolu- 
 tion was moved by the warm-hearted Knox, seconded by Gen. 
 Putnam, and passed unanimously, assuring him that the officers 
 reciprocated his affectionate expressions with the greatest sincerity 
 of which the human heart is capable. Then followed resolutions, 
 declaring that no circumstances of distress or danger should 
 induce a conduct calculated to sully the reputation and glory 
 acquired at the price of their blood and eight years' faithful ser- 
 vices; that they continued to have an unshaken confidence in the 
 justice of Congress and their country; and that the commander- 
 in-chief should be requested to write to the President of Congress, 
 earnestly entreating a speedy decision on the late address forwarded 
 by a committee of the army. A letter was accordingly written by 
 Washington, breathing that generous, yet w'ell-tempered spirit, 
 with which he ever pleaded the cause of the army. "The result 
 of the proceedings of the grand convention of officers," said he, 
 "which I have the honor 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 aspired to the distinction of a patriot army, and will not 
 only confirm their claim to the justice, but will increase their title to 
 the gratitude, of their country. A country, rescued by their arms 
 from impending ruin, will never leave unpaid the debt of grati- 
 tude." The subject was again taken up in Congress, nine States 
 concurred in a resolution commuting the half pay into a sum equal 
 to five years' whole pay ; and the whole matter, at one moment so 
 fraught with danger to the republic, through the temperate wisdom 
 of Washington, was happily adjusted. 
 
 At length arrived the wished-for news of peace. A general 
 treaty had been signed at Paris on the 20th of January. An armed 
 vessel, the Triumph, belonging to the Count d'Estaing's squadron, 
 arrived at Philadelphia from Cadiz, on the 23d of March, bringing 
 a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette, to the President of Con- 
 gress, communicating the intelligence. In a few days Sir Guy 
 Carleton informed Washington by letter, that he was ordered to 
 proclaim a cessation of hostilities by sea and land. A similar 
 proclamation issued by Congress, was received by Washington on 
 the 17th of April. The troops expected that a speedy discharge 
 must be the consequence of the proclamation. Most of them could 
 not distinguish between a proclamation of a cessation of hostilities and 
 a definitive declaration of peace, and might consider any further claim 
 on their nailitary services an act of injustice. It was becoming diffi- 
 cult to enforce the discipline necessary to the coherence of an 
 army. Washington earnestly entreated a prompt determination 
 on the part of Congress, as to what was to be the period of the 
 
1783.] CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES PROCLAIMED. 525 
 
 services of these men, and how he was to act respecting their dis- 
 charge. He urged that, in discharging those who had been 
 engaged "for the war," the non-commissioned officers and sol- 
 diers should be allowed to take with them, as their own property, 
 and as a gratuity, their arms and accoutrements. "This, at a 
 comparatively small expense, would be deemed an honorable tes- 
 timonial from Congress of the regard they bear to these distin- 
 guished worthies, and the sense they had of their suffering virtues 
 and services. These constant companions of their toils, preserved 
 with sacred attention, would be handed down from the present 
 possessors to their children, as honorary badges of bravery and 
 military merit; and would probably be brought forth on some 
 future occasion, with pride and exultation, to be improved with 
 the same miUtary ardor and emulation in the hands of posterity, 
 as they have been used by their forefathers in the present estab- 
 lishment and foundation of our national independence and glory." 
 He notified in general orders, that the cessation of hostihties should 
 be proclaimed at noon on the following day, and read in the even- 
 ing at the head of every regiment and corps of the army, " after 
 which, adds he, " the chaplains with the several brigades will ren- 
 der thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, particularly for his 
 overruling the wrath of man to his own glory, and causing the 
 rage of war to cease among the nations." Having noticed that 
 this auspicious day, the 19th of April, completed the eighth year 
 of the war, and was the anniversary of the eventful conflict at 
 Lexington, he went on in general orders, to impress upon the army 
 a proper idea of the dignified part they were called upon to act. 
 "The generous task for which we first flew to arms being accom- 
 plished; the liberties of our country being fully acknowledged, and 
 firmly secured, and the characters of those who have persevered 
 through every extremity of hardship, suffering, and danger, being 
 immortalized by the illustrious appellation of the patriot army, noth- 
 ing now remains, but for the actors of this mighty scene to pre- 
 serve 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 men 
 which has crowned all their former virtuous actions." 
 
 The letter which he had written to the president produced a 
 resolution in Congress, that the service of the men engaged in the 
 war did not expire until the ratification of the definitive articles of 
 peace; but that the commander-in-chief might grant furloughs to 
 such as he thought proper, and that they should be allowed to take 
 their arms with them. Washington availed himself freely of this 
 permission : furloughs were granted without stint; the men set out 
 singly or in small parties for their rustic homes, and the danger and 
 inconvenience were avoided of disbanding large masses at a time, 
 of unpaid soldiery. Now and then were to be seen three or four 
 in a group, bound probably to the same neighborhood, beguihng 
 the way with camp jokes and camp stories. The war-worn soldier 
 was always kindly received at the farm-house along the road, 
 w-here he might shoulder his gun and fight over his battles. The 
 
526 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 men thus dismissed on furlough were never called upon to rejoin 
 the army. Once at home, they sank into domestic life ; their weap- 
 ons were hung up over their fire-places; military trophies of the 
 Revolution to be prized by future generations. 
 
 Sir Guy Carleton was making preparations for the evacuation of 
 the City of New York. As early as the 27th of April a fleet had 
 sailed for different parts of Nova Scotia, carrying off about seven" 
 thousand persons, with all their effects. A great part of these 
 were troops, but many were royalists and refugees, exiled by the 
 laws of the United States. They looked forward with a dreary eye to 
 their voyage, "bound," as one of them said, "to a country where there 
 were nine months of Avinter every year." On the 6th of May a 
 personal conference took place between Washington and Sir Guy 
 at Orangetown, about the transfer of posts in the United States, 
 held by the British troops, and the delivery of all property stipu- 
 lated by the treaty to be given up to the Americans. On the 8th 
 of May, Egbert Benson, William S. Smith, and Daniel Parker, 
 were commissioned by Congress to inspect and superintend at 
 New York the embarkation of persons and property, in fulfillment 
 of the seventh article of the provisional treaty. Eight years of 
 dangers and hardships, shared in common and nobly sustained, 
 by the officers in the patriot camp, had welded their hearts 
 together, and made it hard to rend them asunder. Prompted by 
 such feelings, Gen. Knox, ever noted for generous impulses, sug- 
 gested, as a mode of perpetuating the friendships thus formed, 
 and keeping alive the brotherhood of the camp, the foiTnation of a 
 society composed of the officers of the army. Meetings were held, 
 at which the Baron Steuben, as senior officer, presided. A plan 
 i^as drafted by a committee composed of Gens. Knox, Hand, and 
 Huntingdon, and Captain Shaw; and the society was organized at 
 a meeting held on the 13th of May, at the Baron's quarters in the 
 old Verplanck House, near Fishkill. In memory of the illustrious 
 Roman, Lucius Ouintius Cincinnatus, who retired from war to the 
 peaceful duties of the citizen, it Avas to be called "The Society of 
 the Cincinnati." The objects proposed by it were to preserve 
 inviolate the rights and liberties for which they had contended; to 
 promote and cherish national honor and union between the States; 
 to maintain brotherly kindness towards each other, and extend 
 relief to such officers and their families as might stand in need of 
 it. In order to obtain funds for the purpose, each officer was to 
 contribute one month's pay, the interest only to be appropriated to 
 the relief of the unfortunate. The society was to have an insignia 
 called "The Order of the Cincinnati." It Avas to be a golden 
 American eagle, bearing on its breast emblematical devices; this 
 was to be suspended by a deep-blue ribbon tAvo inches Avide, 
 edged with Avhite; significative of the union of America with France. 
 Washington Avas chosen unanimously to officiate as president of it, 
 until the first general meeting, to be held in Philadelphia, May 
 1st, 1784. He continued to preside over it until his death, and it 
 became a rallying place for old comrades in arms. 
 
 On the 8th of June, Washington addressed a letter to the gov- 
 
1783.] WASHINGTON TO THE GOVERNORS. 527 
 
 ernors of the several States on the subject of the dissolution of 
 the army. The opinion of it breathes that aspiration after the 
 serene quiet of private life, which had been hi3 dream of happi- 
 ness throughout the storms and trials of his anxious career, but 
 the full fruition of which he was never to realize. "The great 
 object," said he, "for which I had the honor to hold an appoint- 
 ment in the service of my country being accomplished, I am now- 
 preparing to return to that domestic retirement which, it is well 
 known, 1 left with the greatest reluctance ; a retirement for which 
 I have never ceased to sigh, through a long and painful absence, 
 and 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." His letter then discribed the enviable condition 
 of the citizens of America, " Sole lords and proprietors of a vast 
 tract of continent, comprehending all the various soils and cli- 
 mates of the world, and abounding with all the necessaries and con- 
 veniences of hfe; and acknowledged possessors of absolute free- 
 dom and independence." "This is the time," said he, *'of their 
 political probation ; this is the moment when the eyes of the 
 whole world are turned upon them; this is the moment to estab- 
 lish or ruin their national character forever. This is the favor- 
 able moment to give such a tone to the federal government, as 
 will enable it to answer the ends of its institution; or this may be 
 the moment for relaxing the powers of the Union, annihilating 
 the cement of the confederation, and exposing us to become the 
 sport of European politics, which may play one State against another 
 to prevent their growing importance, and to serve their own 
 interested purposes." He then proceeded ably and eloquently 
 to discuss what he considered the four things essential to the 
 well-being, and even the existence of the United States as an 
 independent power. First. An indissoluble union of the States 
 under one federal head, and a perfect acquiescence of the several 
 States, in the full exercise of the prerogative vested in such a 
 head by the constitution. Second. A sacred regard to public 
 justice in discharging debts and fulfilling contracts made by Con- 
 gress, for the purpose of carrying on the war. Third. The adopy- 
 tion of a proper peace establishment in which care should be 
 taken to place the militia throughout the Union on a regular, 
 uniform and efficient footing. "The militia of this country," 
 said he, " 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." 
 Fourth. A disposition among the people of the United States to 
 forget local prejudices and policies; to make mutual concessions, 
 and to sacrifice individual advantages to the interests of the com- 
 munity. These four things Washington pronounced the pillars on 
 which the glorious character must be supported. " Liberty is the 
 basis; and whoever would dare to sap the foundation, or overturn 
 the structure, under whatever specious pretext he may attempt it, 
 will merit the bitterest execration and the severest punishment 
 which can be inflicted by his injured country." We forbear to go 
 
528 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 into the ample and admirable reasoning with which he expatiates 
 on these heads, and above all, enforces the sacred inviolability of 
 the Union; they have become familiar with every American mind, 
 and ought to govern every American heart. We cannot omit 
 the affecting close of this letter: — "I have thus freely declared 
 what I wished to make known, before I surrendered up my public 
 trust to those who committed it to me. The task is now accom- 
 plished. I now bid adieu to your Excellency, as the chief magis- 
 trate of your State, at the same time I bid a last farewell to the 
 cares of office and all the employments of public life. It remains, 
 then, to be my final and only request, that your Excellency will 
 communicate these sentiments to your legislature at their next 
 meeting, and that they may be considered 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 on 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 citi- 
 zens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to govern- 
 ment, to entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another, 
 for their fellow-citizens of the United States at large, and particu- 
 larly for brethren who have served in the field; and finally, that 
 He would most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, 
 to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humil- 
 ity, and pacific temper of mind, which are the characteristics of 
 the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without whose 
 example in those things we can never hope to be a happy nation." 
 Washington resolved to while away part of the time that must 
 intervene before the arrival of the definitive treaty, by making a 
 tour to the northern and western parts of the State, and visiting the 
 places which had been the theatre of important military transac- 
 tions, and to facilitate as far as in his power the operations which 
 would be necessary for occupying, as soon as evacuated by Brit- 
 ish troops, the posts ceded by the treaty of peace. Gov. Clinton 
 accompanied him on the expedition. They set out by water from 
 Newburg, ascended the Hudson to Albany, visited Saratoga and 
 the scene of Burgoyne's surrender, embarked on Lake George, 
 where light boats had been provided for them, traversed that 
 beautiful lake so full of historic interest, proceeded to Ticonderoga 
 and Crown Point ; and after reconnoitring those eventful posts, 
 returned to Schenectady, whence they proceeded up the valley of 
 the Mohawk River, "to have a view," writes Washington, "of 
 that tract of country which is so much celebrated for the fertility 
 of its soil and the beauty of its situation." Having reached Fort 
 Schuyler, formerly Fort Stanwix, they crossed over to Wood 
 Creek, which empties into Oneida Lake, and affords the water 
 communication with Ontario. They then traversed the country to 
 the head of the eastern branch of the Susquehanna, and viewed 
 Lake Otsego and the portage between that lake and the Mohawk 
 River. Washington returned to headquarters at Newburg on the 
 5th of August, after a tour of at least seven hundred and fifty 
 
1783.] WASHINGTON' S FAREWEl.L TO THE ARMY, 529 
 
 miles, performed in nineteen days, and for the most part on horse- 
 back. In a letter to the Chevalier de Chastellux, written two or 
 three months afterwards, and giving a sketch of his tour through 
 what was, as yet, an unstudied wilderness, he writes: "Prompted 
 by these actual observations, I could not help taking a more 
 extensive view of the vast inland navigation of these United 
 States from maps and the information of others ; and could not 
 but be struck with the immense extent and importance of it, and 
 with the goodness of that Providence which has dealt its favors to 
 us with so profuse a hand; would to God, we may have wisdom 
 enough to improve them. I shall not rest contented till I have 
 explored the western country, and traversed those lines, or a great 
 part of them, which have given bounds to a new empire." The 
 vast advantages of internal communication between the Hudson 
 and the great lakes, which dawned upon Washington's mind in 
 the course of his tour, have since been reahzed in that grand artery 
 of national wealth, the Erie Canal. 
 
 By a proclamation of Congress, dated i8th of October, all offi- 
 cers and soldiers absent on furlough were discharged from further 
 service ; and all others who had engaged to serve during the war, 
 were to be discharged from and after the 3d of November. A small 
 force only, composed of those who had enhsted for a definite time, 
 were to be retained in service until the peace establishment should 
 be organized. In general orders of November 2d, Washington, 
 after adverting to this proclamation, adds: "It only remains for 
 the commander-in-chief to address himself once more, and that 
 for the last time, to the armies of the United States, however widely 
 dispersed the individuals who compose them may be, and to bid 
 them an afifectionate and a long farewell." He then goes on to 
 make them one of those paternal address which so Eminently char- 
 acterize his relationship with his army, so different from that of any 
 other commander. He takes a brief view of the glorious struggle 
 from which they had just emerged ; the unpromising circumstances 
 under which they had undertaken it, and the signal interposition 
 of Providence in behalf of their feeble condition ; the unparalleled 
 perseverance of the American armies for eight long years, through 
 almost every possible suffering and discouragement ; a persever- 
 ance which he justly pronounces to be little short of a standing 
 miracle. Adverting then to the enlarged prospects of happiness 
 opened by the confirmation of national independence and sover- 
 eignty, and the ample and profitable employments held out in a 
 Republic so happily circumstanced, he exhorts them to maintain 
 the strongest attachment to the union, and to carry with them 
 into civil society the most conciliatory dispositions ; proving them- 
 selves not less virtuous and useful as citizens, than they had been 
 victorious as soldiers ; feeling assured that the private virtues of 
 economy, prudence, and industry would not be less amiable in 
 civil life, than the more splendid qualities of valor, perseverance, 
 and enterprise were in the field. "To the various branches of the 
 army the General takes this last and solemn opportunity of profes- 
 sing his invariable attachment and friendship. He wishes more 
 
530 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 than bare professions were in his power; that he was really able 
 to be useful to them all in future life. He can only offer in their 
 behalf his recommendations to their grateful country, and his 
 prayers to the God of armies. May anjple justice be done then 
 here, and may the choicest of Heaven's favors, 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 
 military scene to him will be closed forever." 
 
 There was a straightforward simplicity in Washington's ad- 
 dresses to his army ; they were so void of tumid phrases or rhetori- 
 cal embelhshments; the counsels given in them were so sound and 
 practicable ; the feelings expressed in them so kind and benevo- 
 lent; and so perfectly in accordance with his character and con- 
 duct, that they always had an irresistible effect on the rudest 
 and roughest hearts. A person who was present at the breaking 
 up of the army, and whom we have had frequent occasion to cite, 
 olDserves, on the conduct of the troops, "The advice of their be- 
 loved commander-in-chief, and the resolves of Congress to pay 
 and compensate them in such manner as the ability of the United 
 States would peiTnit, operated to keep them quiet and prevent 
 tumult, but no description would be adequate to the painful cir- 
 cumstances of the parting scene." 
 
 Sir Guy Carleton had given notice to Washington of the time he 
 supposed the different posts would be vacated, that the Americans 
 might be prepared to take possession of them. On the 21st the 
 British troops were drawn in from the oft-disputed post of King's 
 Bridge and from M'Gowan's Pass, also from the various posts on 
 the eastern part of Long Island. Paulus Hook was relinqui:hed 
 on the following day, and the afternoon of the 25th of November 
 was appointed by Sir Guy for the evacuation of the city and the 
 opposite village of Brooklyn. Washington, in the meantime, had 
 taken his station at Harlem, accompanied by Gov. Clinton, who, 
 in virtue of his office, was to take charge of the city. On the 
 morning of the 25th the American troops, composed of dragoons, 
 light infantry and artillery, moved from Harlem to the Bowery at 
 the upper part of the city. There they remained until the troops 
 in that quarter were withdrawn, when they marched into the city 
 and took possession, the British embarking from the lower parts. 
 A formal entry then took place of the military and civil authorities. 
 General Washington and Gov. Chnton, with their suites, on horse- 
 back, led the procession, escorted by a troop of Westchester cav- 
 alry. Then came the lieutenant-governor and members of the 
 council, Gen. Knox and the officers of the army, the speaker of 
 the Assembly, and a large number of citizens on horseback and on 
 foot. An American lady, who was at that time very young, and 
 had resided during the latter part of the war in the city, has given 
 us an account of the striking contrast between the American and 
 British troops. " We had been accustomed for a long time," said 
 she, "to military display in all the finish and finery of garrison 
 
ir33.] WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL. 531 
 
 life ; the troops just leaving us were as if equipped for show, and 
 with their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms, made a brilliant 
 display; the troops that marched in, on the contrary, were ill-tlad 
 and weather-beaten, and made a forlorn appearance; but then 
 they were our troops, and as I looked at them, and thought upon 
 all they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were 
 full, and I admired and gloried in them the more, because they 
 were weather-beaten and forlorn." The city was now a scene of 
 public festivity and rejoicing. The governor gave banquets to the 
 French ambassador, the commander-in-chief, the military and civil 
 officers, and a large number of the most eminent citizens, and at 
 night the public were entertained by splendid fireworks. In the 
 course of a few days Washington prepared to depart for Annapo- 
 lis, where Congress was assembhng, with the intention of asking 
 leave to resign his command. A barge was in waiting about noon 
 on the 4th of December at Whitehall ferry, to convey him across 
 the Hudson to Paulus Hook. The principal officers of the army 
 assembled at Fraunces' Tavern in the neighborhood of the ferry, 
 to take a final leave of him. On entering the room, and finding 
 himself surrounded by his old companions in arms, who had shared 
 with him so many scenes of hardship, difficulty, and danger, his 
 agitated feelings overcame his usual self-command. FiUing a glass 
 of wine, and turning upon them his benignant but saddened coun- 
 tenance, "With a heart full of love and gratitude," said he, "I 
 now take leave of you, most devoutly wishing that your latter days 
 may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been 
 glorious and honorable. I cannot come to each of you to take my 
 leave, but shall be obhged if each of you will come and take me 
 by the hand." Gen. Knox, who was the nearest, was the first to 
 advance. Washington, affected even to tears, grasped his hand 
 and gave him a brother's embrace. In the same affectionate man- 
 ner he took leave severally of the rest. Not a word was spoken. 
 The deep feehng and manly tenderness of these veterans in the 
 parting moment could find no utterance in words. Silent and sol- 
 emn they followed their loved commander as he left the room, 
 passed through a corps of light infantry, and proceeded on foot to 
 Whitehall ferry. Having entered the barge, he turned to them, 
 took off his hat and waived a silent adieu. 
 
 On his way to Annapolis, Washington stopped for a few days at 
 Philadelphia, where with his usual exactness in matters of business, 
 he adjusted with the Comptroller of the Treasury his accounts from 
 the commencement of the war down to the 13th of the actual 
 month of December. These were all in his own handwriting, and 
 kept in the cleanest and most accurate manner, each entry being 
 accompanied by a statement of the occasion and object of the 
 charge. The gross amount was about fourteen thousand five hun- 
 dred pounds sterling ; in which were included moneys expended 
 for secret intelligence and service, and in various incidental 
 charges. All this, it must be noted, was an account of money 
 actually expended in the progress of the war; not for arrearage of 
 pay ; for it will be recollected Washington accepted no pay. In- 
 
532 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 deed, on the final adjustment of his accounts, he found himself a 
 considerable loser, having frequently, in a hurry of business, 
 neglected to credit himself with sums drawn from his private purse 
 in moments of exigency. The schedule of his public account 
 furnishes not the least among the many noble and impressive les- 
 sons taught by his character and example. It stands a touchstone 
 of honesty in office, and a lasting rebuke on the lavish expenditure 
 of the public money, too often heedlessly, if not wilfully, indulged 
 by military commanders. 
 
 In passing througli New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, 
 the scenes of his anxious and precarious campaigns, Washington 
 was everywhere hailed with enthusiasm by the people, and greeted 
 with addresses by legislative assemblies, and learned and religious 
 institutions. He accepted them all with the modesty inherent in 
 his nature ; little thinking that this present popularity was but the 
 early outbreaking of a fame, that was to go on widening and deep- 
 ening from generation to generation, and extending over the whole 
 civilized world. At twelve o'clock on the 23d of December, 1783, 
 the gallery, and a great part of the floor of the Hall of Congress, were 
 filled with ladies, with public functionaries of the State, and with gen- 
 eral officers. The members of Congress were seated and covered, as 
 representatives of the sovereignty of the Union. The gentlemen 
 present as spectators were standing and uncovered. Washington 
 entered, conducted by the secretary of Congress, and took his seat 
 in a chair appointed for him. After a brief pause the president 
 (Gen. Mifflin) informed him, that "the United States in Congress 
 assembled, were prepared to receive his communication." Wash- 
 ington then rose, and in a dignified and impressive manner, dehv- 
 ered a short address. "The great events," said he, "on which 
 my resignation depended, having at length taken place, I now 
 have the honor of offering my sincere congratulations 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 conntry. I consider it an indispensable 
 duty to close this last solemn act of my official life, by commend- 
 ing the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Al- 
 mighty God ; and those who have the superintendence 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, under whose orders I have long acted, 
 I here offer my commission, and take my leave of all the employ- 
 ments of public life." Having delivered his commission into the 
 hands of the president, the latter, in reply to his address, bore tes- 
 timony to the patriotism with which he had answered to the call of 
 his country, and defended its invaded rights before it had formed 
 alliances, and while it was without funds or a government to sup- 
 port him ; to the wisdom and fortitude with which he had con- 
 ducted the great military contest, invariably regarding the rights 
 of the civil power, through all disasters and changes. "You re- 
 tire," added he, "from the theatre of action with the blessings of 
 your fellow-citizens; but the glory of your virtues will not ter- 
 
1783.] A SOLDIER'S REPOSE. 533 
 
 minate with your military command : it will continue to animate 
 remotest ages." The very next morning Washington left Annapo- 
 lis, and hastened to his beloved Mount Vernon, where he arrived 
 the same day, on Christmas-eve, in a frame of mind suited to enjoy 
 the sacred and genial festival. "The scene is at last closed," said 
 he in a letter to Gov. CHnton ; "I feel myself eased of a load of 
 public care. I hope to spend the remainder of my days in culti- 
 vating the affections of good men, and in the practice of the do- 
 mestic virtues." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A soldier's repose. 
 
 For some time after his return to Mount Vernon, Washington 
 M'as in a manner locked up by the ice and snow of an uncommonly 
 rigorous winter, so that social intercourse was interrupted, and he 
 could not even pay a visit of duty and affection to his aged mother 
 at Fredericksburg. But it was enough for him at present that he 
 was at length at home at Mount Vernon. Yet the habitudes of the 
 camp still haunted him; he could hardly realize that he was free 
 from military duties; on waking in the morning he almost 
 expected to hear the drum going its stirring rounds and beating 
 the reveille. "I feel now," wrote he to Gen. Howe, " as I con- 
 ceive a weary traveller must do, who, after treading many a weary 
 step, with a heavy burthen on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, 
 and from his house-top is looking back, and tracing, with an eager 
 eye, the meanders by which he escaped the quicksands and mires 
 which lay in his way; and into which none but the all-powerful 
 Guide and Dispenser of human events could have prevented his 
 falling." And in a letter to Lafayette he writes: " Free from the 
 bustle of a camp and the busy scenes of public life, I am solacing 
 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 wel- 
 fare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries — as if this globe 
 was insufficient for us all; and the courtier, who is always watch- 
 ing the countenance of his prince in hopes of catching a gracious 
 smile, can have very Httle conception. I have not only retired 
 from all public employments, but I 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 de- 
 termined 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." And subsequently, in a letter to 
 the Marchioness de Lafayette : " I am now enjoying domestic ease 
 under the shadow of my own vine and my own fig-tree, in a small 
 villa, with the implements of husbandry and lambkins about me. 
 Come, then, let me entreat you, and call my cottage your own; for 
 
534 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 your doors do not open to you with more readiness than mine 
 would. You will see the plain manner in which we live, and meet 
 with rustic civility; and you shall taste the simplicity of rural life. 
 It will diversify the scene, and may give you a higher relish for the 
 gayeties of the court when you return to Versailles." 
 
 During the winter storms, he anticipates the time when the 
 return of the sun will enable him to welcome his friends and com- 
 panions in arms to partake of his hospitality; and lays down his 
 unpretending plan of receiving the curious visitors who are likely 
 to throng in upon him. " My manner of living," writes he to a 
 friend, " is plain, and I do not mean to be put out of it. A glass 
 of wine and a bit of mutton are always ready ; and such as will be 
 content to partake of them, are always welcome. Those who ex- 
 pect more will be disappointed." Some degree of economy was 
 necessary, for his financial concerns had suffered, and the pro- 
 ducts of his estate had fallen off, during his long absence. His 
 old friend, Dr. Craik, made application to Washington in behalf 
 of a person who purposed to write his memoirs. He replied, that 
 any memoir of his life distinct and unconnected with the general 
 history of the war, would rather hurt his feelings than flatter his 
 pride, while he could not furnish the papers and information con- 
 nected with it without subjecting himself to the imputation of 
 vanity, adding: " I had rather leave it to posterity to think and 
 say what they please of me, than, by any act of mine, to have van- 
 ity or ostentation imputed to me." As spring advanced, Mount 
 Vernon began to attract numerous visitors. They were received 
 in the frank, unpretending style Washington had determined upon. 
 It was truly edifying to behold how easily and contentedly he sub- 
 sided from the authoritative commander-in-chief of armies, into the 
 quiet country gentleman. There was nothing awkward or violent 
 in the transition. He seemed to be in his natural element. Mrs. 
 Washington, too, who had presided with quiet dignity at head- 
 quarters, and cheered the wintry gloom of Valley Forge with her 
 presence, presided with equal amenity and grace at the simple 
 board of Mount Vernon. She had a cheerful good sense that 
 always made her an agreeable companion, and was an excellent 
 manager. She has been remarked for an inveterate habit of knit- 
 ting. It had been acquired, or at least fostered, in the winter en- 
 campments of the Revolution, where she used to set an example to 
 her lady visitors, by diligently plying her needles knitting stock- 
 ings for the poor destitute soldiery. 
 
 Washington had never virtually ceased to be the agriculturist. 
 Throughout all his campaign he had kept himself informed of the 
 course of rural affairs at Mount Vernon. By means of maps on 
 which every field was laid down and numbered, he was enabled to 
 give directions for their several cultivation, and receive accounts 
 of their several crops. No hurry of affairs prevented a correspond- 
 ence with his overseer or agent, and he exacted weekly reports. 
 Thus his rural were interwoven with his military cares ; the agri- 
 culturist was mingled with the soldier ; and those strong sympa- 
 thies with the honest cultivators of the soil, and that paternal care 
 
i874.] WASHINGTON'S WESTERN RIDE. 535 
 
 of their interest to be noted throughout his miHtary career, may be 
 ascribed, in a great measure, to the sweetening influences of Mount 
 Vernon. Yet as spring returned, and he resumed his rides about 
 the beautiful neighborhood of this haven of his hopes, he must have 
 been mournfully sensible, now and then, of the changes which 
 time and events had effected there. The Fairfaxes, the kind 
 friends of his boyhood, and social companions of his riper years, 
 were no longer at hand to share his pleasures and lighten his 
 cares. There were no more hunting dinners at Belvoir. Old 
 Lord Fairfax, the Nimrod of Greenway Court, Washington's early 
 friend and patron, with whom he had first learned to follow the 
 hounds, had Hved on in a green old age at his sylvan retreat in the 
 beautiful valley of the Shenandoah ; popular with his neighbors 
 and unmolested by the Whigs, although frank and open in his ad- 
 herence to Great Britain. He had attained his ninety-second 
 year, when tidings of the surrender of Yorktown wounded the 
 national pride of the old cavalier to the quick, and snapped the 
 attenuated thread of his existence. — Washington, in September, 
 made a tour to the west of the Appalachian Mountains, to visit his 
 lands on the Ohio and Kanawha Rivers. Dr. Craik, the compan- 
 ion of his various campaigns, and who had accompanied him in 
 1770 on a similar tour, was his fellow-traveller. This soldier-like 
 tour, made in hardy miUtary style, with tent, pack-horses, and 
 frugal supplies, took him once more among the scenes of his 
 youthful expeditions when a land surveyor in the employ of Lord 
 Fairfax; a leader of Virginia militia, or an aide-de-camp of the 
 unfortunate Braddock. A veteran now in years, and a general 
 renowned in arms, he soberly permitted his steed to pick his way 
 across the mountains by the old military route, still called Brad- 
 dock's Road, over which he had spurred in the days of youthful 
 ardor. He proceeded no further west than the Monongahela; 
 ascended that river, and then struck southward through the wild, 
 unsettled regions of the Alleganies, until he came out into the 
 Shenandoah Valley near Staunton. He returned to Mount Ver- 
 non on the 4th of October; having, since the ist of September, 
 travelled on horseback six hundred and eighty miles, for. a great 
 part of the time in wild, mountainous country, where he was 
 obliged to encamp at night. This, like his tour to the northern 
 forts with Gov. Clinton, gave proof of his unfaihng vigor and 
 activity. During all this tour he had carefully observed the course 
 and chara(!ter of the streams flowing from the west into the Ohio, 
 and the distance of their navigable parts from the head navigation 
 of the rivers east of the mountains, with the nearest and best por- 
 tage between them. For many years he had been convinced of 
 the practicability of an easy and short communication between the 
 Potomac and James Rivers, and the waters of the Ohio, and thence 
 on to the great chain of lakes ; and of the vast advantages that would 
 result therefrom to the States of Virginia and Maryland. The in- 
 dustry of the western settlers had hitherto been checked by the 
 want of outlets to their products. "But smooth the road," said 
 he, " and make easy the way for them, and then see what an influx 
 
536 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 of articles will pour upon us ; how amazingly our exports will be in- 
 creased by them, and how amply all shall be compensated for any 
 trouble and expense we may encounter to effect it. " Such were 
 some of the ideas ably and amply set forth by him in a letter to 
 Benjamin Harrison, Governor of Virginia, who laid the letter 
 before the State legislature. The favor with which it was received 
 induced Washington to repair to Richmond on the 15th of Novem- 
 ber. On the following morning a committee of five members of the 
 House of Assembly, headed by Patrick Henry, waited on him in 
 behalf of that body, to testify their reverence for his character and 
 affection for his person, and their sense of the proofs given by him 
 since his return to private life, that no change of situation could 
 turn his thoughts from the welfare of his country. The suggestions 
 of Washington in his letter to the governor, and his representations, 
 during this visit to Richmond, gave the first impulse to the great 
 system of internal improvement since pursued throughout the 
 United States. At Richmond he was joined by the Marquis de 
 Lafayette ; who had recently arrived from France, had visited 
 Mount Vernon August 17th, and had since accompanied commis- 
 sioners to Fort Schuyler, and been present at the formation of a 
 treaty with the Indians ; after which he had made a tour of the 
 Eastern States, "crowned everywhere," writes Washington, 
 "with wreaths of love and respect." They returned together to 
 Mount Vernon, where Lafayette again passed several days, a 
 cherished inmate of the domestic circle. When his visit was 
 ended, Washington, to defer the parting scene, accompanied him 
 to Annapolis. On returning to Mount Vernon, he wrote a farewell 
 letter to the marquis : "In the moment of our separation, upon the 
 road as I have travelled, and every hour since, I have felt all that 
 love, respect and attachment for you, with which length of years, 
 close connection, and your merits have inspired me. I often asked 
 myself, as our carriages separated, whether that was the last 
 sight I ever should have of you ? And though I wished to answer 
 no, my fears answered yes. I called to mind the days of my 
 youth, and found they had long since fled to return no more ; that 
 I was-now descending the hill I had been fifty-two years climbing, 
 and that, though I was blessed with a good constitution, I was of a 
 short-lived family, and might soon expect to be entombed in the 
 mansion of my fathers." 
 
 Washington's late tours into the interior of the Union had 
 quickened ideas long existing in his mind on the subject of 
 internal navigation. In a letter to Richard Henry Lee, recently 
 chosen President of Congress, he urged it upon his attention; 
 suggesting that the western waters should be explored, their navi- 
 gable capabilities ascertained, and that a complete map should be 
 made of the country; that in all grants of land by the United 
 States, there should be a reserve made for special sale of all mines, 
 mineral and salt springs; that a medium price should be adopted 
 for the western lands sufficient to prevent monopoly, but not to dis- 
 courage useful settlers. In the latter part of December he was at 
 Annapolis, at the request of the Assembly of Virginia, to arrange 
 
1785.] MPRO VEMENTS A T MOUNT VERNON. 537 
 
 matters with the Assembly of Maryland respecting the communi- 
 cation between the Potomac and the western waters. Through his 
 indefatigable exertions two companies were formed under the 
 patronage of the governments of these States, for opening the nav- 
 igation of the Potomac and James Rivers, and he was appointed 
 president of both. By a unanimous vote of the assembly of Vir- 
 ginia, fifty shares in ^he Potomac, and one hundred in the James 
 River company, were appropriated for his benefit, to the end that, 
 while the great works he had promoted would remain monuments 
 of his glory, they might also be monuments of the gratitude of his 
 country. He dechned to receive the proffered shares for his own 
 benefit, and they were ultimately appropriated by him to institu- 
 tions devoted to public education. Yet, though the love for his 
 country would thus interfere with his love for his home, the dream 
 of rural retirement at Mount Vernon still went on. " The more I 
 am acquainted with agricultural affairs," he says, in a letter to a 
 friend in England, " the better I am pleased with them; insomuch 
 that I can nowhere find so much satisfaction as in those innocent 
 and useful pursuits. While indulging these feelings, I am led to 
 reflect, how much more delightful to an undebauched mind is the 
 task of making improvements on the earth, than all the vainglory 
 that can be acquired from ravaging it by the most uninterrupted 
 career of conquest." At the opening of the year (1785) the entries 
 in his diary show him diligently employed in preparations to im- 
 prove his groves and shrubbery. On the loth of January he notes 
 that the white thorn is full in berry. On the 20th he begins to clear 
 the pine groves of undergrowth. In February he transplants ivy 
 under the walls of the garden to which it still clings. In March he 
 is planting hemlock trees, that most beautiful species of American 
 evergreen, numbers of which had been brought hither from Occo- 
 quan. In April he is sowing holly berries in drills, some adjoining 
 a green-briar hedge on the north side of the garden gate; others in 
 a semicircle on the lawn. Many of the holly bushes thus produced, 
 are still flourishing about the place in full vigor. He had learnt 
 the policy, not sufficiently adopted in our country, of clothing his 
 ornamented grounds as much as possible with evergreens, which 
 resist the rigors of our winter, and keep up a cheering verdure 
 throughout the year. Of the trees fitted for shade in pasture land 
 he notes the locust, maple, black mulberry, black walnut, black 
 gum, dogwood and sassafras, none of which, he observes, materi- 
 ally injure the grass beneath them. Is then for once a soldier's 
 dream realized .-* Is he in perfect enjoyment of that seclusion from 
 the world and its distractions, which he had so often pictured to 
 himself amid the hardships and turmoils of the camp ? Alas, no ! 
 The "post," that "herald of a noisy world," invades his quiet 
 and loads his table with letters, until correspondence becomes an 
 intolerable burthen. He looks in despair at the daily accumulat- 
 ing mass of unanswered letters. "Many mistakenly think," writes 
 he, "that lam retired to ease, and to that kind of tranquillity 
 which would grow tiresome for want of employment; but at no 
 period of my life, not in the eight years I served the public, have 
 
538 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 I been obliged to write so much myself, as I have done since my 
 retirement." From much of this drudgery of the pen he was sub- 
 sequently relieved by Mr. Tobias Lear, who acted as his private 
 secretary, and at the same time took charge of the instruction of 
 the two children of the late Mr. Parke Curtis, whom Washington 
 had adopted. There was another tax imposed by his celebrity 
 upon his time and patience. Applications w^re continually made 
 to him to sit for his likeness. The following is his sportive reply to 
 Mr. Francis Hopkinson, who applied in behalf of Mr. Pine : 
 " 'In for a penny in for a pound,' is an old adage. I am so hack- 
 neyed to the touches of the painters' pencil, that I am altogether 
 at their beck, and sit ' like Patience on a monument,' while they 
 are delineating the lines of my face. It is a proof among many 
 others, of what habit and custom can accomplish. At first I was 
 impatient at the request, and as restive under the operation, as a 
 colt is under the saddle. The next time I submitted very reluctantly, 
 but with less flouncing. Now no drayhorse moves more readily to 
 his thill, than I do to the painter's chair." It was not long after 
 this that M. Houdon, an artist of great merit, chosen by Mr. Jeff- 
 erson and Dr. Franklin, arrived from Paris to make a study of 
 Washington for a statue, for the Legislature of Virginia. He 
 remained a fortnight at Mount Vernon, and having formed his 
 model, took it with him to Paris, where he produced that excellent 
 statue and likeness to be seen in the State House in Richmond, 
 Virginia. 
 
 We find in Washington's diary noted down with curious exact- 
 ness, each day's labor and the share he took in it ; his frequent 
 rides to the Mill Swamp; the Dogue Creek; the " Plantation of the 
 Neck," and other places along the Potomac in quest of young 
 elms, ash trees, white thorn, crab-apples, maples, mulberries, wil- 
 lows and lilacs; the winding walks which he lays out, and the trees 
 and shrubs which he plants along them. Now he sows acorns 
 and buck-eye nuts brought by himself from the Monongahela; now 
 he opens vistas through the Pine. Grove, commanding distant views 
 through the woodlands; and now he twines round his columns 
 scarlet honeysuckles, which his gardener tells him will blow all the 
 summer. His care-worn spirit freshens up in these employments. 
 With him Mount Vernon is a kind of idyl. The transient glow of 
 poetical feehng which once visited his bosom, when in boyhood he 
 rhymed beneath its groves, seems about to return once more; and 
 we please ourselves with noting among the trees set out by him, a 
 group of young horse-chestnuts from Westmoreland, his native 
 county, the haunt of his schoolboy days; which had been sent to 
 him by Col. Lee (Light Horse Harry), the son of his "Lowland 
 Beauty." A diagram of the plan in which he had laid out his 
 grounds, still remains among his papers at Mount Vernon; the 
 places are marked on it for particular trees and shrubs. Some of 
 those trees and shrubs are still to be found in the places thus 
 assigned to them. In the present neglected state of Mount Ver- 
 non, its walks are overgrown, and vegetation runs wild; but it is 
 deeply interesdng stiil to find traces of these toils in which Wash- 
 
r;85.] A SILENT, THOUGHTFUL MAN. 539 
 
 ton delighted, and to know that many of the trees which gave it 
 its present umbrageous beauty were planted by his hand. The 
 ornamental cultivation was confined to the grounds appertaining 
 to what was called the mansion-house farm; but his estate included 
 four other farms, all lying contiguous, and containing 3,260 acres; 
 each farm having its bailiff or overseer, with a house for his 
 accommodation, barns and outhouses for the produce, and cabins 
 for the negroes. On a general map of the estate, drawn out by 
 Washington himself, these farms were all laid down accurately 
 and their several fields numbered; he knew the soil and local qual- 
 ities of each, and regulated the culture of them accordingly. In 
 addition to these five farms there were several hundred acres of 
 fine woodland, so that the estate presented a beautiful diversity of 
 land and water. In the stables near the mansion-house were the 
 carriage and saddle horses, of which he was very choice; on the 
 four fijrms there were 54 draught horses, 12 mules, 317 head of 
 black cattle, 360 sheep, and a great number of swine, which last 
 ran at large in the woods. He corresponded with the celebrated 
 Arthur Young; from whom he obtained seeds of all kinds, im- 
 proved ploughs, plans for laying out farm yards, and advice on 
 various parts of rural economy. " Agriculture," writes he to him, 
 "has ever been among the most favored of my amusements, 
 though I have never possessed much skill in the art, and nine 
 years' total inattention to it has added nothing to a knowledge, 
 which is best understood from practice; but with the means you 
 have been so obliging to furnish me, I shall return to it, though 
 rather late in the day, with more alacrity than ever." His active 
 day began some time before the dawn. Much of his correspond- 
 ence was despatched before breakfast, which took place at half- 
 past seven. After breakfast he mounted his horse, and rode out 
 to different parts of his estate, to see that all was right at the out- 
 posts, and every one at his duty. At half-past two he dined. If 
 there was no company he would write until dark, or, if pressed 
 by business until nine o'clock in the evening ; otherwise he read in 
 the evening, or amused himself with a game of whist. His secre- 
 tary, Mr. Lear, after two years' residence in the family on the most 
 confidential footing, says, — "General Washington is, I believe, 
 almost the only man of an exalted character, who does not lose 
 some part of his respectability by an intimate acquaintance. I 
 have never found a single thing that could lessen my respect for 
 him. A complete knowledge of his honesty, uprightness and can- 
 dor in all his private transactions, has sometimes led me to think 
 him more than a man." The children of Parke Curtis formed a 
 lively part of his household. He was fond of the children and 
 apt to unbend with them. Miss Curtis, recalling in after life the 
 scenes of her childhood, writes : "I have sometimes made him 
 laugh most heartily from sympathy with my joyous and extrava- 
 gant spirits;" she observes, however, that "he was a silent, 
 thoughtful man. He spoke little generally; never of himself. I 
 never heard him relate a single act of his life during the war. I 
 have often seen him perfectly abstracted, his lips moving; but no 
 
540 LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 
 
 sound was perceptible." An observant traveller, Mr. Elkanah 
 \Vatson, who visited Mount Vernon in the winter of 1785, bearer 
 of a letter of introduction from Gen. Greene and Col. Fitzgerald, 
 gives a home picture of Washington in his retirement: "The cau- 
 tious reserve which wisdom and policy dictated, whilst engaged in 
 rearing the glorous fabric of our independence, was evidently the 
 result of consummate prudence, and not characteristic of his 
 nature. I observed a peculiarity in his smile, which seemed to 
 illuminate his eye; his whole countenance beamed with intelli- 
 gence, while it commanded confidence and respect. I found him 
 kind and benignant in the domestic circle; revered and beloved by 
 all around him; agreeably social, without ostentation; deRghting 
 in anecdote and adventures; without assumption; his domestic 
 arrangements hannonious and systematic. His servants seemed 
 to watch his eye, and to anticipate his every wish; hence a look 
 was equivalent to a command. His servant Billy, the faithful 
 companion of his military career, was always at his side. Smihng 
 content animated and beamed on every countenance in his pres- 
 ence." Mr. Watson had taken a severe cold in the course of a 
 harsh winter journey, and coughed excessively. Washington 
 pressed him to take some remedies but he declined. After retir- 
 ing for the night his coughing increased. "When some time had 
 elapsed," writes he, "the door of my room was gently opened, 
 and, on drawing my bed curtains, I beheld Washington himself, 
 standing at my bedside with a bowl of hot tea in his hand. I was 
 mortified and distressed beyond expression. This little incident, 
 occurring in common life with an ordinary man, would not have 
 been noticed; but as a trait of the benevolence and private virtue 
 of Washington, deserves to be recorded." The late Bishop 
 White, in subsequent years, speaking of Washington's unassum- 
 ing manners, observes: "I know no man who so carefully guarded 
 against the discoursing of himself or of his acts, or of anything 
 that pertained to him; and it has occasionally occurred to me 
 when in his company, that, if a stranger to his person were pres- 
 ent, he would never have known from anything said by him that 
 he was conscious of having distinguished himself in the eye of the 
 world." An anecdote is told of Washington's conduct while com- 
 niander-in-chief ; illustrative of his benignant attention to others, 
 and his freedom from all assumption. While the army was en- 
 camped at Morristown, he one day attended a religious meeting 
 where divine senice was to be celebrated in the open air. A chair 
 had been set out for his use. Just before the service commenced, 
 a woman with a child in her arms approached. All the seats were 
 occupied. Washington immediately rose, placed her in the chair 
 which had been assigned to him, and remained standing during 
 the whole ser\nce. The reverential awe which his deeds and 
 elevated position threw around him was often a source of annoy- 
 ance to him in private life; especially when he perceived its effect 
 upon the young and gay. We have been told of a case in point, 
 when he made his appearance at a private ball where all were 
 enjoymg themselves with the utmost glee. The moment he en- 
 
I786.J WASHINGTON IN SOCIAL LIFE. 541. 
 
 tered the room the buoyant mirth was checked ; the dance lost its 
 animation; every face was grave; every tongue was silent. He 
 remained for a time, endeavoring to engage in conversation with 
 some of the young people, and to break the spell ; finding it in 
 vain, he retired sadly to the company of the elders in an adjoining 
 room, expressing his regret that his presence should operate as 
 such a damper. After a little while light laughter and happy 
 voices again resounded from the ball-room ; upon which he rose 
 cautiously, approached on tip-toe the door, which was ajar, and 
 there stood some time a delighted spectator of the youthful revelry. 
 Though habitually grave and thoughtful, he was of a social dispo- 
 sition, and loved cheerful society. He was fond of the dance; 
 and it was the boast of many ancient dames in our day, who had 
 been bells in the 'time of the Revolution, that they had danced 
 minuets with him, or had him for a partner in contra-dances. 
 "We had a little dance at my quarters," writes Gen. Greene from 
 Middlebrook, in March, 1779. "His Excellency and Mrs. Greene 
 danced upwards of three hours without once sitting down." 
 
 More than one instance is told of Washington's being sur- 
 prised into hearty fits of laughter, even during the war. We have 
 recorded one produced by the sudden appearance of old Gen. 
 Putnam on horseback, with a female prisoner en crotipe. The fol- 
 lowing is another which occurred at the camp at Morristown. 
 Washington had purchased a young horse of great spirit and 
 power. A braggadocio of the army, vain of his horsemanship, 
 asked the privilege of breaking it. Washington gave his consent, 
 and with some of his officers attended to see the horse receive his 
 first lesson. After much preparation, the pretender to equitation 
 mounted into the saddle .and was making a great display of his 
 science, when the horse suddenly planted his forefeet, threw up his 
 heels, and gave the unlucky Gambado a somerset over his head. 
 Washington, a thorough horseman, and quick to perceive the 
 ludicrous in these matters, was so convulsed with laughter, that, 
 we are told, the tears ran down his cheeks. Still another instance 
 is given, which occurred at the return of peace, when he was sail- 
 ing in a boat on the Hudson, and was so overcome by the drollery 
 of a story told by Major Fairlie of New York, of facetious memory, 
 that he fell back in the boat in a paroxysm of laughter. In that 
 fit of laughter, it was sagely presumed that he threw off the burthen 
 of care which had been weighing down his spirits throughout the 
 war. He certainly relaxed much of his thoughtful gravity of 
 demeanor when he had no longer the anxieties of a general com- 
 mand to harass him. Hearty laughter, however, was rare with 
 Washington. The sudden explosions we hear of were the result 
 of some sudden and ludicrous surprise. His general habit was a 
 calm seriousness, easily softening into a benevolent smile. In 
 some few of his familiar letters, yet preserved, and not relating to 
 business, there is occasionally a vein of pleasantry and even of 
 humor ; but almost invariably, they treat of matters of too grave 
 import to admit of anything of the kind. The passion for hunting 
 had revived with Washington on returning to his old hunting- 
 
542 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 grounds ; but he had no hounds. His kennel had been broken up 
 when he went to the wars, and the dogs given away, and it was 
 not easy to replace them. After a time he received several hounds 
 from France, sent out by Lafayette and other of the French 
 officers, and once more sallied forth to renew his ancient sport. 
 
 General Greene died on the iSth of June, 1786, at his estate of 
 Mulberry Grove, on Savannah River, presented to him by the 
 State of Georgia. His last illness was brief ; caused by a stroke 
 of the sun ; he was but forty-four years of age. The news of his 
 death struck heavily on Washington's heart, to whom, in tlie most 
 arduous trials of the Revolution, he had been a second self. He 
 had taken Washington as his model, and possessed naturally many 
 of his great qualities. Like him, he was sound in judgment ; 
 persevering in the midst of discouragements ; calm and self-pos- 
 sessed in time of danger; heedful of the safety of others; heedless 
 of his own. Like him, he was modest and unpretending, and hke 
 him he had a perfect command of temper. He had Washington's 
 habits of early rising, and close and methodical despatch of busi- 
 ness, "never suttering the day to crowd upon the monow." In 
 private intercourse he was frank, noble, candid and intelligent ; in 
 the hurry of business he was free from petulence, and had, we are 
 told, " a winning blandness of manner that won tlie afiection of his 
 officers." His campaigns in the Carolinas showed him to be a 
 worthy disciple of W"ashington, keeping the war ahve by his own 
 persevering hope and inexhaustible energy, and, as it were, fight- 
 ing almost without weapons. His great contest of generalship 
 w.th the veteran Cornwallis, has insured for him a lasting renown. 
 " He was a great and good man ! " was Washington's comprehen- 
 sive eulogy on him. 
 
 Washington was watching with intense solicitude the working 
 together of the several parts in the great political confederacy; 
 anxious to know whether the tliirteen distinct States, under the 
 present organization, could form a sufficiently efficient general 
 government. He was daily becoming more and more doubtful of 
 the solidity of the fabric he had assisted to raise. The form of con- 
 federation which had bound the States together and met the public 
 exigencies during the Revolution, when there was a pressure of ex- 
 ternal danger, was daily proving more and more incompetent to 
 the purposes of a national government. Congress had devised a 
 system of credit to provide for the national expenditure and the 
 extinction of the national debts, which amounted to something 
 more than fifty miUions of dollars. The system experienced neg- 
 lect from some States and opposition from others ; each consulting 
 its Ic'cal interests and prejudices, instead of the interests and obi- 
 gations of the whole. In like manner treaty stipulations, which 
 bound the good faith of the whole, were slighted, if not violated by 
 individual States, apparently unconscious that they must each 
 share in the discredit thus brought upon tlie national name. 
 
 From letters written by Washington, we gather some of the 
 ideas on national policy which were occupying his mind : — " I have 
 ever been a friend to adequate powe^^ in Congress, without which 
 
1786.] THE FEDERAL CONSTITUTION. 543 
 
 it is evident to me we never shall establish a national character, 
 or be considered as on a respectable footing by the powers of 
 Europe — We are either a united people under one head and for 
 federal purposes, or we are thirteen independent sovereignties, 
 eternally counteracting each other. — If the foiTner, whatever such 
 a majority of the States as the constitution points out, conceives to 
 be for the benefit of the whole, should, in my humble opinion, be 
 submitted to by the minority. — I can foresee no evil greater than 
 disunion; than those unreasonable ]^2\o\xs\^s (I say unreasonable, 
 because I would have a proper jealousy always awake, and the 
 United States on the watch to prevent individual States from 
 infracting the constitution with impunity) which are continually 
 poisoning our minds and fillmg them with imaginary' evils for the 
 prevention of real ones. The consequences of a lax or inefficient 
 government are too obvious to be dwelt upon. Thirteen sover- 
 eignties pulling against each other, and all tugging at the federal 
 head, will soon bring ruin on the whole ; whereas, a liberal and 
 energetic constitution, well checked and well watched, to prevent 
 encroachments, might restore us to that degree of respectability 
 and consequence to which we had the fairestprospect of attaining." 
 Thus Washington, even though in retirement, was almost uncon- 
 sciously exercising a powerful influence on national affairs; no 
 longer the soldier, he was now becoming the statesman. The 
 leading expedient for federate organization, mooted in his confer- 
 ences with the commissioners of Maryland and Virginia, during 
 their visit to Mount Vernon in the previous year, had been ex- 
 tended and ripened in legislative Assemblies, and ended in a plan 
 of a convention composed of delegates from all the States, to meet 
 in Philadelphia for the sole and express purpose of revising the 
 federal system, and correcting its defects; the proceedings of the 
 convention to be subsequently reported to Congress, and the sev- 
 eral Legislatures, for approval and confirmation. He was unani- 
 mously put at the head of the Virginia delegation; but for some 
 time objected to accept the nomination. •• It will have," said he, 
 *' a tendency to sweep me back into the tide of public affairs, when 
 retirement and ease are so much desired by me, and so essentially 
 necessary." The weight and influence of his name and counsel 
 were felt to be all important in giving dignity to the delegation. 
 He made up his mind to serve, and went into a course of prepara- 
 tory reading on history, and of ancient and modern confederacies. 
 An abstract of the general principles of each with notes of their 
 vices or defects, exists in his own handwriting, among his papers. 
 On the 9th of May, he set out in his carriage from Mount Vernon 
 to attend the convention. At Chester, where he arrived on the 
 13th, he was met by Gen. Mifilin, now speaker of the Pennsylvania 
 Assembly, Gen. Knox and Varnum, Col. Humphreys, and other 
 personages of note. At Gray's Ferry the city light-horse were in 
 attendance, by whom he was escorted into Philadelphia. It was 
 not until the 25th of May that a sufficient number of delegates 
 were assembled to form a quorum; when they proceeded to organ- 
 
544 LJFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ize the body, and by a unanimous vote Washington was called up 
 to the chair as President. 
 
 This memorable convention sat from four to seven hours each 
 day for four months ; every point was the subject of able and 
 scrupulous discussion by the best talent, and noblest spirits of the 
 country. Washington felt restrained by his situation as President, 
 from taking part in the debates, but his well-known opinions influ- 
 enced the whole. The result was the formation of the constitu- 
 tion of the United States, which (with some amendments made in 
 after years) still exists. As the members on the last day of the 
 session were signing the engrossed constitution. Dr. Franklin, 
 looking towards the President's chair, at the back of which a sun 
 was painted, observed to those persotis next to him, " I have oft^n 
 and often, in the course of the session, and the vicissitudes of my 
 hopes and fears as to its issue, looked at the sun behind the Presi- 
 dent, without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting ; at 
 length I have the happiness to know it is a rising and not a setting 
 sun." The constitution thus formed, was forwarded to Congress, 
 and thence transmitted to the State Legislatures, each of which sub- 
 mitted it to a State convention composed of delegates chosen for 
 that express purpose by the people. The ratification of the instru- 
 ment by nine States was necessary to carry it into effect ; and as the 
 several State conventions would assemble at different times, nearly 
 a year must elapse before the decisions of the requisite number could 
 be obtained. Washington resumed his retired life at Mount Ver- 
 non, but was kept informed by his numerous correspondents, such as 
 James Madison, John Jay, and Generals Knox, Lincoln and Arm- 
 strong, of the progress of the constitution through its various ordeals, 
 and of the strenuous opposition which it met with in different quar- 
 ters ; both in debate and through the press. A diversity of opinions 
 and inclinations on the subject had been expected by him. Still 
 he never had a doubt that it would ultimately be adopted ; and, 
 in fact, the national decision in its favor was more fully and strongly 
 pronounced than even he had anticipated. His feelings on learn- 
 ing the result were expressed with that solemn and religious faith 
 in the protection of heaven, manifested by him in all the trials and 
 vicissitudes through which his country had passed. "We may," 
 said he, "with a kind of pious and grateful exultation, trace the 
 finger of Providence through those dark and mysterious events, 
 which first induced the States to appoint a general convention, and 
 then led them, one after another, by such steps as were best calcu- 
 lated to effect the object, into an adoption of the system recom- 
 mended by the general convention ; thereby, in all human proba- 
 bility, laying a lasting foundation for tranquillity and happiness, 
 when we had but too much reason to fear, that confusion and mis- 
 ery were coming rapidly upon us." The tesiimonials of ratifica- 
 tion having been received by Congress from a sufficient number of 
 States, an act was passed by that body on the 13th of Sept., 
 appointing the first Wednesday in Jan., 1789, for the people of the 
 United States to choose electors of a President according to the 
 constitution, and the first Wednesday in the month of Feb. follow- 
 
1 789. ] WASHING TON ELECTED PRESIDENT. 545 
 
 ing for the electors to meet and make a choice. The meeting of 
 the government was to be on the first Wednesday in March, and 
 in the city of New York. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 WASHINGTON AS PRESIDENT. 
 
 The adoption of the Federal constitution was another epoch 
 in the life of Washington. Before the official forms of an election 
 could be carried into operation, a unanimous sentiment throughout 
 the Union pronounced him the nation's choice to fill the presiden- 
 tial chair. He looked forward to the possibility of his election 
 with characteristic modesty, and unfeigned reluctance ; as his let- 
 ters to his confidential friends bear witness. " It has no fascinating 
 allurements for me, "writes he to Lafayette. " Atmy time of life and 
 under my circumstances, the increasing infirmities of nature and 
 the growing love of retirement do not permit me to entertain a wish 
 beyond that of living and dying an honest man on my own farm. 
 Let those follow the pursuits of ambition and fame who have a 
 keener relish for them, or who may have more years in store for 
 the enjoyment." "Should circumstances render it in a manner 
 inevitably necessary," (to accept the office of President), writes he 
 to Lafayette, " 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, noth- 
 ing short of a conviction of duty will induce me again to take an 
 active part in public affairs ; and in that case, if I can form a plan 
 for my own conduct, my endeavors shall be unremittingly exerted, 
 even at the hazard of former fame or present popularity, to extri- 
 cate my country from the embarrassments in which it is entangled 
 through want of credit ; and to establish a general system of policy, 
 wliich if pursued will ensure permanent felicity to the common- 
 wealth. I think I see a path clear and direct as a ray of light, 
 which leads to the attainment of that object. Nothing but har- 
 mony, honesty, industry, and frugality, are necessary to make us a 
 great and happy people. Happily the present posture of affairs, 
 and the prevailing disposition of my countrymen, promise to co-op- 
 erate in establishing those four great and essential pillars of public 
 felicity." The election took place at the appointed time, and it 
 was soon ascertained that Washington was chosen President for the 
 term of four years from the 4th of March : and he made prepara- 
 tions to depart for the seat of government, as soon as he should 
 receive official notice of his election. — Among other duties, he 
 paid a visit to his mother at Fredericksburg ; it was a painful, 
 because likely to be a final one, for she was afflicted with a malady 
 which, it was evident, must soon terminate her life. Their parting 
 was affectionate, but solemn ; she had always been reserved and 
 moderate in expressing herself in regard to the successes of her 
 18 
 
546 LIFB OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 son ; but it must have been a serene satisfaction at the close of her 
 life to see him elevated by his virtues to the highest honor of his 
 country. From a delay in forming a quorum of Congress the 
 votes of the electoral college were not counted until early in April, 
 when they were found to be unanimous in favor of Washington. 
 On the 14th of April, he received a letter from the president of 
 Congress, duly notifying him of his election ; and he prepared to 
 set out immediately for New York, the seat of government. At 
 the first stage of his journey a trial of his tenderest feelings 
 awaited him in a public dinner given him at Alexandria, by 
 his neighbors and personal friends. The mayor, who presided, 
 and spoke the sentiments of the people of Alexandria, deplored in 
 his departure the loss of the first and best of their citizens, the orna- 
 ment of the aged, the model of the young, the improver of their 
 agriculture; the friend of their commerce, the protector of their 
 infant academy, the benefactor of their poor, — but "go," added 
 he, " and make a grateful people happy, who will be doubly grate- 
 ful when they contemplate this new sacrifice for their interests." 
 Washington was too deeply affected for many words in reply. 
 "Just after having bade adieu to my domestic connections," said 
 he, "this tender proof of your friendship is but too well calculated 
 to awaken still further my sensibility, and increase my regret at 
 parting from the enjoyments of private life. All that now remains 
 for me is to commit myself and you to the care of that beneficent 
 Being, who, on a former occasion, happily brought us together 
 after a long and distressing separation. Perhaps the same gracious 
 Providence will again indulge me. But words fail me. Unuttera- 
 ble sensations must, then, be left to more expressive silence, while 
 from an aching heart I bid all my affectionate friends and kind 
 neighbors farewell ! " His progress to the seat of government 
 was a continual ovation. The ringing of bells and roaring of 
 cannonry proclaimed his course through the country. The old 
 and young, women and children, thronged the highways to bless 
 and Avelcome him. Deputations of the most respectable inhabi- 
 tants from the principal places came forth to meet and escort him. 
 At Baltimore, on his arrival and departure, his carriage was atten- 
 ded by a numerous cavalcade of citizens, and he was saluted by 
 the thunder of artillery. At the frontier of Pennsylvania his former 
 companion in arms, Mifflin, now governor of the State, with Judge 
 Peters and a civil and military escort, was waiting to receive him. 
 At Chester, where he stopped to breakfast, there were preparations 
 for a public entrance into Philadelphia. Cavalry had assembled 
 from the surrounding country ; a superb white horse was led out 
 for Washington to mount, and a grand procession set forward, 
 with Gen. St. Clair of revolutionary notoriety at its head. It 
 gathered numbers as it advanced ; passed under triumphal arches 
 entwined with laurel, and entered Philadelphia amid the shouts of 
 the multitude. A day of public festivity succeeded, ended by a 
 display of fireworks. Washington's reply to the congratulations 
 of the mayor at a great civic banquet, spoke the genuine feelings 
 of his modest nature, amid these testimonials of a world's applause. 
 
1,-89.] ENTHUSIASM OF THE PEOPLE. 547 
 
 *' When I contemplate the interposition of Providence, as it was 
 visibly manifested in guiding us through the Revolution, in prepar- 
 us for the reception of the general government, and in conciliating 
 *he good will of the people of America towards one another after 
 its adoption, I feel myself oppressed and almost overwhelmed 
 with a sense of divine munificence. I feel that nothing is due to 
 my personal agency in all those wonderful and complicated events, 
 except what can be attributed to an honest zeal for the good of my 
 country." 
 
 We question whether any of these testimonials of a nation's 
 gratitude affected Washington more sensibly than those he 
 received at Trenton. It was on a sunny afternoon when he 
 arrived on the banks of the Delaware, where, twelve years before, 
 he had crossed in darkness and storm, through clouds of snow 
 and drifts of floating ice, on his daring attempt to strike a blow at 
 a triumphant enemy. Here at present all was peace and sunshine, 
 the broad river flowed placidly along, and crowds awaited him on 
 the opposite bank, to hail him with love and transport. The 
 reader may remember Washington's gloomy night on the banks 
 of the Assunpink, which flows through Trenton; the camp fires of 
 Cornwallis in front of him; the Delaware full of floating ice in the 
 rear; and his sudden resolve on the midnight retreat which turned 
 the fortunes of the campaign. On the bridge crossing that event- 
 ful stream, the ladies of Trenton had caused a triumphal arch to 
 be erected. It was entwined with evergreens and laurels, and 
 bore the inscription, " The defender of the mothers will be the pro- 
 tector of the daughters." At this bridge the matrons of the city 
 were assembled to pay him reverence; and as he passed under the 
 arch, a number of young girls, dressed in white and crowned with 
 garlands, strewed flowers before him, singing an ode expressive of 
 their love and gratitude. Never was ovation more graceful, 
 touching and sincere; and Washington, tenderly affected, declared 
 that the impression of it on his heart could never be effaced. His 
 whole progress through New Jersey, must have afforded a similar 
 contrast to his weary marchings to and fro, harassed by doubts 
 and perplexities, with bale fires blazing on its hills, instead of fes- 
 t.ve illuminations, and when the ringing of bells and booming of 
 cannon, now so joyous, were the signals of invasion and maraud. 
 At Elizabethtown Point, a committee of both Houses of Congress, 
 with various civic functionaries, waited by appointment to receive 
 him. He embarked on board of a splendid barge, constructed 
 for the occasion, and commanded by Commodore Nicholson. 
 Other barges fancifully decorated followed, having on board the 
 heads of departments and other pubhc officers, and several dis- 
 tinguished citizens. As they passed through the strait between the 
 Jerseys and Staten Island, called the Kills, other boats decorated 
 with flags fell in their wake, until the whole, forming a nautical 
 procession, swept up the broad and beautiful bay of New York, to 
 the sound of instrumental music. On board of two vessels were 
 parties of ladies and gentlemen who sang congratulatory odes as 
 Washington's barge approached. The ships at anchor in the har- 
 
548 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 bor, dressed in colors, fired salutes as it passed. One alone, the 
 Galveston, a Spanish man-of-war, displayed no signs of gratulation, 
 until the barge of the general was nearly abreast; when suddenly 
 as if by magic, the yards were manned, the ship burst forth, as it 
 were, into a full array of flags and signals, and thundered a 
 salute of thirteen guns. He appoached the landing place of Mur- 
 ray's ^Vharf, amid the ringing of bells, the roaring of cannonry, 
 and the shouting of multitudes collected on every pier-head. On 
 landing, he was received by Gov. Clinton. Gen. Knox, too, who, 
 had taken such affectionate leave of him on his retirement from 
 military life, was there to welcome him in his civil capacity. 
 Other of his fellow-soldiers of the Revolution were likewise there, 
 mingled with the civic dignitaries. At this juncture, an officer 
 stepped up and requested Washington's orders, announcing him- 
 self as commanding his guard. Washington desired him to pro- 
 ceed according to the directions he might have received in the pres- 
 ent arrangements, but that for the future the affection of his fellow- 
 citizens was all the guard he wanted. Carpets had been spread to 
 a caniage prepared to convey him to his destined residence, but 
 he prefened to walk. He was attended by a long civil and mili- 
 tary train. In the streets through which he passed the houses 
 were decorated Avith flags, silken banners, garlands of flowers and 
 evergreens, and bore his name in every form of ornament. The 
 streets were crowded with people, so that it was with difficulty a 
 passage could be made by the city officers. That day he dined 
 with Gov. Clinton, who had invited a numerous company of public 
 functionaries and foreign diplomatists to meet him, and in the even- 
 ing the city was brilliantly illuminated. Would the reader know 
 the effect upon Washington's mind of this triumphant entry into 
 New York? It was to depress rather than to excite him. Mod- 
 estly diffident of his abilities to cope with the new duties on which 
 he was entering, he was ovenvhelmed by what he regarded as 
 proofs of public expectation. Noting in his diary the events of the 
 day, he writes : "The display of boats which attended and joined 
 us on this occasion, some with vocal and some with instrumental 
 music on board; the decorations of the ships, the roar of cannon, 
 and the loud acclamations of the people which rent the skies, as I 
 passed along the wharves, filled my mind with sensations as pain- 
 ful (considering the reverse of this scene, which may be the case 
 after all my labors to do good) as they are pleasing." A question 
 arose as to the form or title by which the President elect was to be 
 addressed; and a committee in both Houses was appointed to 
 report upon the subject. It was finally resolved that the address 
 should be simply "the President of the United States," without 
 any addition of title; a judicious form which has remained to the 
 present day. The inauguration took place on the 30th of April. 
 At nine o'clock in the morning, there were religious services in all 
 the churches, and prayers put up for the blessing of Heaven on 
 the new government. At twelve o'clock the city troops paraded 
 before Washington's door, and soon after the committees of Con- 
 gress and heads of departments came in their carriages. At half- 
 
1789. J INAUGURATION OF WASHINGTON, 549 
 
 past twelve the procession moved forward, preceded by the troops; 
 next came the committees and heads of departments in their car- 
 riages; then Washington in a coach of state, his aide-de-camp, 
 Col. Humphreys, and his secretary, Mr. Lear, in his own carriage. 
 The foreign ministers and a long train of cidzens brought up the 
 rear. About two hundred yards before reaching the hall, Wash- 
 ington and his suite alighted from their carriages, and passed 
 through the troops, who were drawn up on each side, into the hall 
 and senate chamber, where the Vice President, the Senate and 
 House of Representatives were assembled. The Vice President, 
 John Adams, recently inaugurated, advanced and conducted 
 Washington to a chair of state at the upper end of the room. A 
 solemn silence prevailed; when the Vice President rose, and in- 
 formed him that all things were prepared for him to take the oath 
 of office required by the constitution. The oath was to be admin- 
 istered by the Chanceller of the State of New York, in a balcony 
 in front of the senate chamber, and in full view of an immense 
 multitude occupying the street, the windows, and even roofs of the 
 adjacent houses. The balcony formed a kind of open recess, 
 with lofty columns supporting the roof. In the center was a table 
 with a covering of crimson velvet, upon which lay a superbly 
 bound Bible on a crimson velvet cushion. This was all the para- 
 phernalia for the august scene. All eyes were fixed upon the bal- 
 cony, when, at the appointed hour, Washington made his appear- 
 ance, accompanied by various public functionaries, and members 
 of the Senate and House of Representatives. He was clad in a 
 full suit of dark-brown cloth, of American manufacture, with a 
 steel-hilted dress sword, white silk stockings, and silver shoe- 
 buckles. His hair was dressed and powdered in the fashion of the 
 day, and worn in a bag and solitaire. His entrance on the bal- 
 cony was hailed by universal shouts. He was evidently moved 
 by this demonstration of pubhc affection. Advancing to the front 
 of the balcony, he laid his hand upon his heart, bowed several 
 times, and then retreated to an arm-chair near the table. The 
 populace appeared to understand that the scene had overcome 
 him; and were hushed at once into profound silence. After a few 
 moments Washington rose and again came forward. John Adams, 
 the Vice President, stood on his right; on his left the Chancellor of 
 the State, Robert R. Livingston; somewhat in the rear were Roger 
 Sherman, Alexander Hamilton, Generals Knox, St. Clair, the 
 Baron Steuben and others. The chancellor advanced to administer 
 the oath prescribed by the constitution, and Mr. Ods, the secretary 
 of the Senate, held up the Bible on its crimson cushion. The 
 oath was read slowly and distinctly; Washington at the same time 
 laying his hand on the open Bible. When it was concluded, he 
 replied solemnly, "I swear — so help me God!" Mr. Otis would 
 have raised the Bible to his lips, but he bowed down reverently 
 and kissed it. The chancellor now stepped forward, waved his 
 hand and exclaimed, " Long live George Washington, President 
 of the United States!" At this moment a flag was displayed on 
 ■ ihe cupola of the hall; on which signal there was a general dis- 
 
5 5o LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 charge of artillery on the battery. All the bells in the city rang 
 out a joyful peal, and the multitude rent the air with acclamations. 
 Washington again bowed to the people and returned into the sen- 
 ate chamber, where he delivered, to both Houses of Congress, his' 
 inaugural address, characterized by his usual modesty, moderation 
 and good sense, but uttered with a vo'ice deep, slightly tremulous, 
 and so low as to demand close attention in the listeners. After 
 this he proceeded with the whole assemblage on foot to St. Paul's 
 church, where prayers suited to the occasion were read by Dr. 
 Prevost, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in New York, 
 who had been appointed by the Senate one of the chaplains of 
 Congress. So closed the ceremonies of the inauguration. 
 
 We have been accustomed to look to Washington's private let- 
 ters for the sentiments of his heart. Those written to several of 
 his friends immediately after his inauguration, show how little he 
 was excited by his official elevation. " I greatly fear," writes he, 
 " that my countrymen will expect too much from me. I fear, if 
 the issue of public measures should not correspond with their san- 
 guine expectations, they will turn fhe undue praises, which they 
 are heaping upon me at this moment, into equally extravagant, 
 though I will fondly hope unmerited censures." Little was his 
 modest spirit aware that the praises so dubiously received were but 
 the opening notes of a theme that was to increase from age to age, 
 to pervade all lands and endure throughout all generations. 
 
 We have endeavored to narrate faithfully the career of Wash- 
 ington from childhood, through his early Surveying expeditions in 
 the wilderness, his diplomatic mission to the French posts on the 
 frontier, his campaigns in the French war, his arduous trials as 
 commander-in-chief throughout the Revolution, the noble simplic- 
 ity of his life in retirement, until we have shown him elevated to 
 the presidential chair, by no effort of his own, in a manner against 
 his wishes, by the unanimous vote of a grateful country. The plan 
 of our work has necessarily carried us widely into the campaigns 
 of the Revolution, even where Washington was not present in 
 person; for his spirit pervaded and directed the whole, and a gen- 
 eral knowledge of the whole is necessary to appreciate the sagac- 
 ity, forecast, enduring fortitude, and comprehensive wisdom with 
 which he conducted it. We have endeavored to keep in view the 
 prevailing poverty of resources, the scandalous neglects, the 
 squalid miseries of all kinds, with which its champions had 
 to contend in their expeditions through trackless wilder- 
 nesses, or thinly peopled regions; beneath scorching suns or 
 inclement skies; their wintry marches to be traced by bloody foot- 
 prints on snow and ice ; their desolate encampments, rendered 
 still more desolate by nakedness and famine. It was in the 
 patience and fortitude with which these ills were sustained by a 
 half-disciplined yeomanry, voluntary exiles from their homes, des- 
 titute of all the "pomp and circumstance" of war to excite them, 
 and animated solely by their patriotism, that we read the noblest 
 and most affecting characteristics of that great struggle for human 
 rights. They do wrong to its moral grandeur, who seek by com- 
 
1789] THE NEW GOVERNMENT. 551 
 
 monplace exaggeration, to give a melo-dramatic effect and false 
 glare to its military operations, and to place its greatest triumphs 
 in the conflicts of the field. Lafayette showed a true sense of the 
 nature of the struggle, when Napoleon, accustomed to effect am- 
 bitious purposes by hundreds of thousands of troops, and tens of 
 thousands of slain, sneered at the scanty armies of the American 
 Revolution and its "boasted allies." '• Sire," was the admirable 
 and comprehensive reply, " it was the grandest of causes won by 
 skirmishes of sentinels and outposts." We have quoted Washing- 
 ton's own words and writings largely, to explain his feehngs and 
 motives, and give the true key to his policy; for never did man 
 leave a more truthful mirror of his heart and mind, and a more 
 thorough exponent of his conduct, than he has left in his copious 
 correspondence. There his character is to be found in all its ma- 
 jestic simplicty, its massive grandeur, and quiet colossal strength. 
 He was no hero of romance; there was nothing of romantic hero- 
 ism in his nature. As a warrior, he was incapable of fear, but 
 made no merit of defying danger. He fought for a cause, but not 
 for personal renown. Gladly, when he had won the cause, he hung 
 up his sword never again to take it down. Glory, that blatant 
 word, which haunts some mihtary minds like the bray of the 
 trumpet, formed no part of his aspirations. To act justly was his 
 instinct, to promote the public weal his constant effort, to deserve 
 the " affections of good men" his ambition. With such qualifica- 
 tions for the pure exercise of sound judgment and comprehensive 
 wisdom, he ascended the presidential chair. 
 
 The eyes of the world were upon him at the commencement of 
 his administration. He had won laurels in the field: would they 
 continue to flourish in the cabinet? His position was surrounded 
 by difficulties. Inexperienced in the duties of civil administration, 
 he was to inaugurate a new and untried system of government, 
 composed of States and people, as yet a mere experiment, to 
 which some looked forward with buoyant confidence, — ma^iy with 
 doubt and apprehension. He had moreover a hi^h-spirited people 
 to manage, in whom a jealous passion for freedonr and independ- 
 ence had been strengthened by war, and who might bear with im- 
 patience even the restraints of self-imposed government. The 
 constitution which he was to inaugurate had met with vehement 
 opposition, when under discussion in the general and State govern- 
 ments. Only three States, New Jersey, Delaware and Georgia, 
 had accepted it unanimously. Several of the most important States 
 had adopted it by a mere majority ; five of them under an expressed 
 expectation of specified amendments or modifications ; while two 
 States, Rhode Island and NorthCarolina, still stood aloof A diversity 
 of opinions still existed concerning the new government. Some feared 
 that it would have too little control over the individual States; that 
 the political connection would prove too weak to preserve order 
 and prevent civil strife: others, that it would be too strong for their 
 separate independence, and would tend towards consolidation and 
 despotism. The very extent of the country he was called upon 
 to govern, ten times larger than that of any previous republic, must 
 
552 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 have pressed with weight upon Washington's mind. It presented 
 to the Atlantic a front of fifteen hundred miles, divided into indi- 
 vidual States, differing in the forms of their local governments, 
 differing from each other in interests, in territorial magnitudes, in 
 the amount of population, in manners, soils, climates and produc- 
 tions, and the characteristics of their several peoples. Beyond the 
 Alleglianies extended regions almost boundless, as yet for the most 
 part wild and uncultivated, the asylum of roving Indians and rest- 
 less, discontented white men. Vast tracts, however, were rapidly 
 being peopled, and would soon be portioned into sections requir- 
 ing local governments. The great natural outlets for the exporta- 
 tion of the products of this region of inexhaustible fertiUty, was 
 the Mississippi; but Spain opposed a barrier to the free navigation 
 of this river. Great Britain, too, was giving grounds for territorial 
 solicitude in these distant quarters, by retaining possession of the 
 Western posts, the surrender of which had been stipulated by the 
 treaty. Her plea was, that debts due to British subjects, for 
 Avhich by the same treaty the United States were bound, remained 
 unpaid. This the Americans alleged was a mere pretext; the real 
 object of their retention being the monopoly of the fur trade; and 
 to the mischievous influence exercised by these posts over the 
 Indian tribes, was attributed much of the hostile disposition mani- 
 fested by the latter along the Western frontier. While these 
 brooding causes of anxiety existed at home, the foreign commerce 
 of the Union was on a most unsatisfactory footing, and required 
 prompt and thorough attention. It was subject to maraud, even 
 by the corsairs of Algiers, Tunis and Tripoh, who captured 
 American merchant vessels and carried their crews into slavery; 
 no treaty having yet been made with any of the Barbary powers 
 excepting Morocco. To complete the perplexities which beset the 
 new government, the finances of the country were in a lamentable 
 state. There was no money in the treasury. The efforts of the 
 former government to pay or fund its debts, had failed; there was 
 a universal state of indebtedness, foreign and domestic, and pub- 
 lic credit was prostrate. Washington was painfully aware of the dif- 
 ficulties and dangers of an undertaking in which past history and 
 past experience afforded no precedents. " I walk, as it were, on 
 untrodden ground," said he; "so many untoward circumstances 
 may intervene in such a new and critical situation, that I shall feel 
 an insuperable diffidence in my own abilities. I feel, in the execution 
 of my arduous office, how much I shall stand in need of the coun- 
 tenance and aid of every friend to myself, of every friend to the 
 revolution, and of every lover of good government." As yet he 
 was without the support of constitutional advisers, the departments 
 under the new government not being organized; he could turn 
 with confidence, however, for counsel in an emergency to John 
 Jay, who still remained at the head of affairs, where he had been 
 placed in 1784. He was sure of sympathy also in his old com- 
 rade. Gen. Knox, who continued to officiate as secretary of war; 
 while the affairs of the treasury were managed by a board, con- 
 sisting of Samuel Osgood, Walter Livingston, and Arthur Lee. 
 
1789.] WASHINGTON'S ADVISERS. 553 
 
 Among the personal friends not in office, to whom Washington 
 felt that he could safely have recourse for aid in initiating the new 
 government, was Alexander Hamilton. It is true, many had their 
 doubts of his sincere adhesion to it. In the convention in Phila- 
 delphia, he had held up the British constitution as a model to be 
 approached as nearly as possible, by blending some of the advan- 
 tages of monarchy with the republican form. The form finally 
 adopted was too low-toned for him; he feared it might prove feeble 
 and inefficient ; but he voted for it as the best attainable, advo- 
 cated it in the State convention in New York, and in a series of 
 essays, collectively known as The FederaHst, written conjunc- 
 tively with Madison and Jay; and it was mainly through his efforts 
 as a speaker and a writer that the constitution was ultimately 
 accepted. " The idea of a perfect equality of political rights 
 among the citizens, exclusive of all permanent or hereditary dis- 
 tinctions," had not hitherto, he thought, from an imperfect struct- 
 ure of the government, had a fair trial, and "was of a nature to 
 engage the good wishes of every good man, whatever might be 
 his theoretic doubts;" the endeavor, therefore, in his opinion, 
 ought to be to give it " a better chance of success by a govern- 
 ment more capable of energy and order." Washington, who 
 knew and appreciated Hamilton's character, had implicit confi- 
 dence in his sincerity, and felt assured that he would loyally aid in 
 carrying into effect the constitution as adopted. James Madison 
 was among the members of Congress : he had been in the con- 
 vention, had labored in the The Federalist ; and his talents as a 
 speaker, and calm, dispassionate reasoner, his extensive informa- 
 tion and legislative experience, destined him to be a leader in the 
 House. Highly appreciating his intellectual and moral worth, 
 Washington would often turn to him for counsel. " I am trouble- 
 some," would he say, "but you must excuse me; ascribe it to 
 friendship and confidence." Knox's mind was ardent and active, 
 his imagination vivid, as was his language. He had abandoned 
 the military garb, but still maintained his soldier-like air. He was 
 large in person, above the middle stature, with a full face, radiant 
 and benignant, bespeaking his open, buoyant, generous nature. He 
 had a sonorous voice, and sometimes talked rather grandly, flour- 
 ishing his cane to give effect to his periods. He was cordially 
 appreciated by Washington, who had experienced his prompt and 
 efficient talent in time of war, had considered him one of the 
 ablest officers of the revolution, and now looked to him as an ener- 
 getic man of business, capable of giving practical advice in 
 time of peace, and cherished for him that strong feeling of ancient 
 companionship in toil and danger, which bound the veterans of 
 the revolution firmly to each other. 
 
 The conflict of opinions that had already occurred as to the 
 form and title by which the President was to be addressed, had 
 made Washington aware that every step at the outset of his 
 career would be subject to scrutiny, perhaps cavil, and might 
 hereafter be cited as a precedent. Looking round, therefore, 
 upon the able men at hand, such as Adams, Hamilton, Jay, Madi- 
 
554 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 son, he propounded to them a series of questions as to a line of 
 conduct proper for him to observe. In regard to visitors, for 
 instance, would not one day in the week be sufficient for visits of 
 compliment, and one hour every morning (at eight o'clock for 
 example) for visits on business? Might he make social visits to 
 acquaintances and pubhc characters, not as President, but as a pri- 
 vate individual? And then as to his table — under the preceding 
 form of government the Presidents of Congress had been accus- 
 tomed to give dinners twice a week to large parties of both sexes, 
 and invitations had been so indiscriminate, that every one who 
 could get introduced to the President, conceived he had a right to 
 be invited to his board. The table was, therefore, always crowded 
 and with a mixed company ; yet, as it was in the nature of things 
 impracticable to invite everybody, as many offenses were given as 
 if no table had been kept. Washington asked whether he might 
 not invite, informally or otherwise, six, eight, or ten official char- 
 acters, including in rotation the members of both Houses of Con- 
 gress, to dine with him on the days fixed for receiving company, 
 without exciting clamors in the rest of the community. Adams in 
 his reply talked of chamberlains, aids-de-camp, masters of cere- 
 mony, and evinced a high idea of the presidential office and the 
 state with which it ought to be maintained. "The office," writes he, 
 "by its legal authority defined in the constitution, has no equal in 
 the world excepting those only which are held by crowned heads. 
 The royal office in Poland is a mere shadow in comparison with 
 it. The Dogeship in Venice, and the Stadtholdership in Holland, 
 are not so much. Neither dignity nor authority can be supported 
 in human minds, collected into nations or any great numbers, 
 without a splendor and majesty in some degree proportioned to 
 them. The sending and receiving ambassadors is one of the 
 most splendid and important prerogatives of sovereigns, absolute 
 or limited, and this in our constitution is wholly in the President. 
 If the state and pomp essential to this great department are not in 
 a good degree preserved, it will be in vain for America to hope for 
 consideration with foreign powers." Hamilton considered it for 
 the public good that the dignity of the presidential office should 
 be supported, but advised that care should be taken to avoid so 
 high a tone in the demeanor of the occupant, as to shock the 
 prevalent notions of equality. The President, he thought, should 
 hold a levee at a fixed time once a week, remain half an hour, 
 converse cursorily on indifferent subjects with such persons as 
 invited his attention, and then retire. He should accept no invi- 
 tations; give formal entertainments twice, or at most, four times in the 
 year; on the anniversaries of the declaration of independence, of 
 his inauguration, of the treaty of alliance with France, and of the 
 definitive treaty with Great Britain. On levee days he should give 
 informal invitations to family dinners ; not more than six or eight 
 to be asked at a time, and the civility to be confined essentially to 
 members of the legislature, and other official characters: — the 
 President never to remain long at table. The heads of departments 
 should, of course, have access to the President on business. 
 
1789.I MRS. WASHINGTON IN NEW YORK. 555 
 
 On the 17th of May, Mrs. Washington, accompanied by her 
 grandchildren, Eleanor Custis and George Washington Parke 
 Custis, set out from Mount Vernon in her travelling carriage with 
 a small escort of horse, to join her husband at the seat of govern- 
 ment. Throughout the journey she was greeted with public testi- 
 monials of respect and affection. 
 
 On the evening of Friday, May 29th, she had a general reception, 
 which was attended by all that was distinguished in official and fash- 
 ionable society. Henceforward there were similar receptions 
 every Friday evening, from eight to ten o'clock, to which the 
 families of all persons of respectabihty, native or foreign, had ac- 
 cess, without special invitation; and at which the President was 
 always present. These assemblages were as free from ostentation 
 and restraint as the ordinary receptions of polite society ; yet the 
 reader will find they were soon subject to invidious misrepresenta- 
 tion; and cavilled at as "court-like levees" and "queenly drawing- 
 rooms." The sanctity and quiet of Sunday were strictly observed 
 by Washington. He attended church in the morning, and passed 
 the afternoon alone in his closet. No visitors were admitted, excepting 
 perhaps an intimate friend in the evening, which was spent by him 
 in the bosom of his family. The household establishment was 
 conducted on an ample and dignified scale, but without ostentation. 
 Samuel Fraunces, once landlord of the city tavern in Broad street, 
 where Washington took leave of the officers of the army in 1783, 
 was now Steward of the presidential household. He was required 
 to render a weekly statement of receipts and expenditures, and 
 warned to guard against waste and extravagance. " We are 
 happy to inform our readers," says Fenno's Gazette of the day, 
 *• that the President is determined to pursue that system of regu- 
 larity and economy in his household which has always marked his 
 public and private life." 
 
 Washington retained a mihtary air of command which had 
 become habitual to him. At levees and drawing-rooms he some- 
 times appeared cold and distant, but this was attributed by those 
 who best knew him to the novelty of his position and his innate 
 diffidence, which seemed to increase with the light which his 
 renown shed about him. His reserve had nothing repulsive in it, 
 and in social intercourse soon gave way to soldier-like frankness 
 and cordiality. At all times his courtesy was genuine and benig- 
 nant, and totally free from the stately condescension sometimes 
 mistaken for politeness. Nothing we are told could surpass the 
 noble grace with which he presided at a ceremonial dinner ; 
 kindly attentive to all his guests, but particularly attentive to put 
 those at their ease and in a favorable light, who appeared to be 
 most diffident. As to Mrs. W^ashington, those who really knew 
 her at the time, speak of her as free from pretension or affectation ; 
 undazzled by her position, and discharging its duties with the 
 truthful simplicity and real good-breeding of one accustomed to 
 preside over a hospitable mansion in the "Ancient Dominion." 
 She had her husband's predilection for private fife. In a letter to 
 an intimate she writes: " It is owing to the kindness of our numer- 
 
550 LIFE Of WASHINGTON. 
 
 ous friends in all quarters that my new and unwished for situation 
 is not indeed a burden to me. When I was much younger, I 
 should probably have enjoyed the innocent gayeties of life as 
 much as most persons of my age ; but I had long since placed all 
 the prospects of my future worldly happiness in the still enjoy- 
 ments of the fireside at Mount Vernon. 1 little thought, when the 
 war was finished, that any circumstances could possibly happen, 
 which would call the General into public hfe again. I had antici- 
 pated that from that moment we should be suffered to grow old 
 together in solitude and tranquillity." 
 
 Much has been said of Washington's equipages, when at New 
 York, and of his having four, and sometimes six horses before his 
 carriage, with servants and outriders in rich hvery. Such style we 
 would premise was usual at the time both in England and the 
 colonies, and had been occasionally maintained by the continental 
 dignitaries, and by Governors of the several States, prior to the 
 adoption of the new constitution. It was still prevalent, we are 
 told, among the wealthy planters of the South, and sometimes 
 adopted by "merchant princes," and rich individuals at the North. 
 It does not appear, however, that Washington ever indulged in it 
 through ostentation. When he repaired to the Hall of Congress, 
 at his inauguration, he was drawn by a single pair of horses in a 
 chariot presented for the occasion, on the panels of which were 
 emblazoned the arms of the United Stales. Beside this modest 
 equipage there was the ample family carriage which had been 
 brought from Virginia. To this four horses were put when the 
 family drove out into the country, the state of the roads in those 
 days requiring it. For the same reason six horses were put to the 
 same vehicle on journeys, and once on a state occasion. His 
 favorite exercise when the weather permitted it was on horseback, 
 accompanied by one or more of the members of his household, and 
 he was noted always for being admirably mounted, and one of the 
 best horsemen of his day. The first Presidential residence was at 
 the junction of Pearl and Cherry streets, Franklin square. At the 
 end of about a year, the President removed to the house on the 
 west side of Broadway, near Rector street, afterwards known as 
 Bunker's Mansion House. Both of these buildings have disap- 
 peared, in the course of modern "improvements." 
 
 Washington called unofficially upon the heads of depart- 
 ments to furnish him with such reports in writing as would aid him 
 in gaining a distinct idea of the state of public affairs. For this 
 purpose also he had recourse to the pubhc archives, and proceeded 
 to make notes of the foreign official correspondence from the close 
 of the war until his inauguration. He was interrupted in his task 
 by a virulent attack of anthrax, which for several days threatened 
 mortification. The knowledge of his perilous condition spread 
 alarm through the community ; he, however, remained unagitated. 
 His medical adviser was Dr. Samuel Bard, of New York, an excel- 
 lent physician and most estimable man, who attended him with 
 unremitting assiduity. Being alone one day with the doctor, Wash- 
 ington regarded him steadily, and asked his candid opinion as to 
 
1 789.] DEA TH OF WASHING TON'S MO THER. 557 
 
 the probable result of his case. •' Do not flatter me with vain 
 hopes," said he, with placid firmness; "I am not afraid to die, 
 and therefore can bear the worst." The doctor expressed hope, 
 but owned that he had apprehensions. "Whether to-night or 
 twenty years hence, makes no difference," observed Washington. 
 "I know that I am in the hands of a good Providence." His 
 sufferings were intense, and his recovery was slow. For six weeks 
 he was obliged to he on his right side ; but after a time he had his 
 carriage so contrived that he could extend himself at full length in 
 it, and take exercise in the open air. While rendered morbidly 
 sensitive by bodily pain, he suffered deep annoyance from having 
 one of his earliest nominations, that of Benjamin Fishburn, for the 
 place of naval officer of the port of Savannah, rejected by the 
 Senate. He was scrupulously conscientious in the exercise of the 
 nominating power; scrutinizing the fitness of candidates; their 
 comparative claims on account of public services and sacrifices, 
 and with regard to the equable distribution of offices among the 
 States ; in all which he governed himself solely by considerations 
 for the public good. He was especially scrupulous where his own 
 friends and connections were concerned. " So far as I know my 
 own mind," would he say, " I would not be in the remotest degree 
 influenced in making nominations by motives arising from the ties 
 of family or blood." The Senate assigned no reason for rejecting 
 his nomination of Mr. Fishburn. He sent in the name of another 
 candidate ; but at the same time administered a temperate ai]d dig- 
 nified rebuke. " Whatever may have been the reasons which 
 induced your dissent," writes he to the Senate, " I am persuaded 
 that they were such as you deemed sufficient. Permit me to sub- 
 mit to your consideration, whether, on occasions where the propriety 
 of nominations appears questionable to you, it would not be expe- 
 dient to communicate that circumstance to me, and thereby avail 
 yourselves of the information which led me to make them, and 
 which I would with pleasure lay before you." He then proceeds 
 to state, that Col. Fishburn had served under his own eye with 
 reputation as an officer and a gentleman; had distinguished him- 
 self at the storming of Stony Point ; had repeatedly been elected 
 to the Assembly of Georgia as a representative from Chatham 
 County, in which Savannah was situated ; had been elected by the 
 officers of the militia of that county, Lieut. -Colonel of the mihtia of 
 the district ; had been member of the Executive Council of the 
 State and president of the same ; had been appointed by the coun- 
 cil to an office which he actually held, in the port of Savannah, 
 nearly similar to that for which Washington had nominated him. 
 This was the only instance in which a nomination by Washington 
 was rejected by the Senate. 
 
 While yet in a state of convalescence, Washington received 
 intelligence of the death of his mother, at Fredericksburg in Vir- 
 ginia, on the 25th of August ; she was eighty-two years of age, and 
 had for some time been sinking under an incurable malady. Mrs. 
 Mary Washington is represented as a woman of strong plain sense, 
 strict integrity, and an inflexible spirit of command. We have 
 
558 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 mentioned the exemplary manner in which she, a lone widow, had 
 trained her httle flock in their childhood. The deference for her, 
 then instilled into their minds, continued throughout life, and was 
 manifested by Washington when at the height of his power and 
 reputation. Eminently practical, she had thwarted his military 
 aspirings when he was about to seek honor in the British navy. 
 During his early and disastrous campaigns on the frontier, she 
 would often shake her head and exclaim, "Ah, George had better 
 have staid at home and cultivated his farm." Even his ultimate 
 success and renown had never dazzled, however much they may 
 have gratified her. When others congratulated her, and were enthu- 
 siastic in his praise, she listened in silence, and would temperately 
 reply that he had been a good son, and she believed he had done 
 his duty as a man. 
 
 Hitherto the new government had not been properly organized, 
 but its several duties had been performed by the officers who had 
 them in charge at the time of Washington's inauguration. It was 
 not until the loth of Sept. that laws were passed instituting a de- 
 partment of Foreign Affairs (afterwards termed Department of 
 State), a Treasury department, and a department of War, and fix- 
 ing their respective salaries. Sept. iith, Washington nominated 
 Gen. Knox to the department of War, the duties of which that offi- 
 cer had hitherto discharged. The post of Secretary of the Treas- 
 ury was one of far greater importance at the present moment. It 
 was a time of financial exigency. As yet no statistical account of 
 the country had been attempted ; its fiscal resources were wholly 
 unknown ; its credit was almost annihilated, for it was obliged to 
 borrow money even to pay the interest of its debts. Washington 
 nominated Alexander Hamilton as Secretary of the Treasury. His 
 qualifications for the office were so well understood by the Senate 
 that his nomination was confirmed on the same day on which it 
 was made. On the 27th of Sept., he nominated Edmund Randolph 
 as Attorney-General of the United States. Randolph had joined 
 the army at Cambridge in 1775, and acted for a time as aide-de- 
 camp to Washington in place of Mifidin. He had since gained 
 experience in legislative business as member of Congress, from 
 1779 to 1782, Governor of Virginia in 1786, and delegate to the 
 convention in 1787. Dissatisfied with some of the provisions of 
 the constitution as adopted, he had refused to sign it; but had 
 afterwards supported it in the State convention of Virginia. As 
 we recollect him many years afterwards, his appearance and 
 address were dignified and prepossessing ; he had an expressive 
 countenance, a beaming eye. and somewhat of the ore rottmdo in 
 speaking. Randolph promptly accepted the nomination, but did 
 rot take his seat in the cabinet until some months after Knox and 
 Hamilton. John Jay, of New York, received the appointment of 
 Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, and in a letter enclosing 
 his commission, Washington expressed the singular pleasure he 
 felt in addressing him "as the head of that department which 
 must be considered as the keystone of our political fabric." Jay's 
 associate judges were, John Rutledge of South Carolina, James 
 
1789.] THE DEPARTMENTS ORGANIZED. 559 
 
 Wilson of Pennsylvania, William Gushing of Massachusetts, John 
 Blair of Virginia, and James Iredell of North Carolina, 
 
 On the 29th of September, Congress adjourned to the first 
 Monday in January, It was inferior in eloquence and shining tal- 
 ent to the first Congress of the revolution ; but it possessed men 
 well fitted for the momentous work before them ; sober, solid, 
 upright, and well informed. An admirable harmony had prevailed 
 between the legislature and the executive, and the utmost decorum 
 had reigned over the public dehberations. Fisher Ames, then a 
 young man, who had acquired a brilliant reputation in Massachu- 
 setts by the eloquence with which he had championed the new 
 constitution in the convention of that important State, and who 
 had recently been elected to Congress, speaks of it in the following 
 terms: "I have never seen an assembly where so Httle art was 
 used. If they wish to carry a point, it is directly declared and 
 justified. Its merits and defects are plainly stated, not without 
 sophistry and prejudice, but without management. There is no 
 intrigue, no caucusing, little of clanning together, little asperity in 
 debate, or personal bitterness out of the House." 
 
 The cabinet was still incomplete ; the department of State was 
 yet to be supplied with a head. Thomas Jefferson, who had so 
 long filled the post of Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of Ver- 
 sailles, had recently solicited and obtained permission to return, for 
 a few months, to the United States, for the purpose of placing his 
 children among their friends in their native country, and of 
 arranging his private affairs, which had suffered from his protracted 
 absence. His political principles as a democratic republican, had 
 been avowed at an early date in his draft of the Declaration of 
 Independence, and subsequently in the successful war which he 
 made upon the old cavalier traditions of his native State ; its laws 
 of entails and primogeniture, and its church establishment, a war 
 which broke down the hereditary fortunes and hereditary famihes, 
 and put an end to the hereditary aristocracy of the Ancient 
 Dominion. Being sent to Paris as minister plenipotentiary a year 
 or two after the peace, he arrived there, as he says, " when the 
 American revolution seemed to have awakened the thinking part 
 of the French nation from the sleep of despotism in which they 
 had been sunk." His house became the resort of Lafayette and 
 others of the French officers who had served in the American revolu- 
 tion. They .vere mostly, he said, young men little shackled by hab- 
 its and prejudices, and had come back with new ideas and new im- 
 pressions which began to be disseminated by the press and in conver- 
 sation. Politics became the theme of all societies, male and female, 
 and a very extensive and zealous party was formed which acquired 
 the appellation of the Patriot Party, who, sensible of the abuses of 
 the government under which they lived, sighed for occasions of re- 
 forming it. This party, writes Jefferson. " comprehended all the 
 honesty of the kingdom suflficiently at leisure to think, the men of 
 letters, the easy bourgeois, the young nobility, partly from reflec- 
 tion, partly from the mode." By this party Jefferson was consid- 
 ered high authority from his republican principles and experience, 
 
56o LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 and his advice was continually sought in the great effort for polit- 
 ical reform which was daily growing stronger and stronger. His 
 absence in Europe had prevented his taking part in the debates 
 on the new constitution, but he had exercised his influence through 
 his correspondence. What he greatly objected to was the perpet- 
 ual reeligibility of the President. "This, I fear," said he, "will 
 make that an office for hfe, first, and then hereditary. I was much 
 an enemy to monarchies before I came to Europe, and am ten 
 thousand times more so since I have seen what they are. There is 
 scarcely an evil known in these countries which may not be 
 traced to tlieir king as its source, nor a good which is not derived 
 from the small fibres of republicanism existing among them. I 
 can further say, with safety, there is not a crowned head in Europe 
 whose talents or merits would entitle him to be elected a vestry- 
 man by the people of any parish in America." In short, such a 
 horror had he imbibed of kingly rule, that, in a familiar letter to 
 Col. Humphreys; who had been his Secretary of Legation, he gives 
 il as the duty of our young Republic "to besiege the throne of 
 heaven with eternal prayers to extirpate from creation this class of 
 human lions, tigers, and mammoths, called kings, from whom, let 
 him perish who does not say, 'Good Lord, deliver us!'" His 
 political fervor occasionally tended to exaltation, but it was genu- 
 ine. His sensitiveness had been awakened by the debates in Con- 
 gress as to the title to be given to the President, whether or not he 
 should be addressed as His Highness ; and had been reheved by 
 the decision that he was to have no title but that of office, viz.: 
 President of the United States. "I hope," said Jefferson, "the 
 terms of Excellency, Honor, Worship, Esquire, will forever disap- 
 pear from among us. I wish that of Mr. would follow them." 
 With regard to the reeligibility of the President, his anxiety was 
 quieted for the present, by the elevation of Washington to the 
 Presidential chair. " Since the thing [reeligibility] is established," 
 writes he, " I would wish it not to be altered during the life-time 
 of our great leader, whose executive talents are superior to those, 
 I believe, of any man in the world, and who, alone, by the author- 
 ity of his name, and the confidence reposed in his perfect integrity, 
 is fully qualified to put the new government so under way as to 
 secure it against the efforts of opposition. But, having derived 
 from our error all the good there was in it, I hope we shall 
 correct it the moment we can no longer have the same name at 
 the helm." 
 
 Gouverneur ^lorris had arrived in Paris on the 3d of Feb., 1789, 
 furnished by Washington with letters of introduction to persons in 
 England, France, and Holland. His brilHant talents, ready con- 
 versational powers, easy confidence in society, and striking aristo- 
 cratical appearance, had given him great currency, especially in' 
 the court party and among the ancient nobility; in which direction 
 his tastes most inclined. In a letter to the French Minister, resid- 
 ing in New York, Morris writes on the 23d of Feb., 1789: " Your 
 nation is now in a most important crisis, and the great question — 
 shall we hereafter have a constitution, or shall will continue to be 
 
1789.] REVOL UTION IN FRANCE. 561 
 
 law — employs every mind and agitates every heart in France. 
 Even voluptuousness itself rises from its couch of roses and looks 
 anxiously abroad at the busy scene to which nothing can now be 
 indifferent. A spirit which has been dormant for generations starts 
 up and stares about, ignorant of the means of obtaining, but 
 ardently desirous to possess its object — consequently active, ener- 
 getic, easily led, but also easily, too easily misled. Such is the 
 instinctive love of freedom which now grows warm in the bosom 
 of your country." Morris, speaking of Jefferson at this juncture, 
 observes, " He and I differ in our system of politics. He, with all 
 the leaders of liberty here, is desirous of annihilating distinctions 
 of order. How far such views may be right, respecting mankind 
 in general, is, I think, extremely problematical. But, with respect 
 to this nation, I am sure it is wrong and cannot eventuate well." 
 
 The first news of the revolution in France, reached America in 
 October, and was hailed by the great mass of the people with 
 enthusiasm. Washington, in reply to his old comrade in arms, the 
 Count de Rochambeau, observes: "I am persuaded I express the 
 sentiments of my fellow-citizens, when I offer as an earnest prayer 
 that it may terminate in the permanent honor and happiness 
 of your government and people." But, in a reply of the same 
 date (13th Oct.) to Gouverneur Morris, he shows that his circum- 
 spect and cautious spirit was not to be hurried away by popular 
 excitement. " The revolution which has been effected in France," 
 writes he, "is of so wonderful a nature, that the mind can hardly 
 realize the fact. If it ends as our last accounts of the 1st of August 
 predict, that nation will be the most powerful and happy in Europe; 
 but I fear, though it has gone triumphantly through the first par- 
 oxysm, it is not the last it has to encounter before matters are 
 finally settled. In a word, the revolution is of too great a magni- 
 tude to be effected in so short a space, and with the loss of so little 
 blood. To forbear running from one extreme to the other, is no 
 easy matter: and should this be the case, rocks and shelves, not visible 
 at present, may wreck the vessel and give a higher-toned despotism 
 than the one which existed before." Hamilton, too, regarded the 
 recent events in France with a mixture of pleasure and apprehen- 
 sion. In a letter to^Lafayette he writes : "As a friend to mankind 
 and to liberty, I rejoice in the efforts which you are making to 
 estabhsh it, while I fear much for the final success of the attempts, 
 for the fate of those who are engaged in it, and for the danger, in 
 case of success, of innovations greater than will consist with the 
 real felicity of your nation. I dread disagreements among those 
 who are now united, about the nature of your constitution ; I dread 
 the vehement character of your people, whom, I fear, you may 
 find it more easy to bring on, than to keep within proper bounds 
 after you have put them in motion. I dread the interested refrac- 
 toriness of your nobles, who cannot all be gratified, and who may 
 be unwilling to submit to the requisite sacrifices. And I dread the 
 reveries of your philosophic politicians, who appear in the moment 
 to have great influence, and who, being mere speculatists, may 
 aim at more refinement than suits either with human nature or the 
 
562 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 composition of your nation." The opposite views and feelings of 
 Hamilton and Jefferson, with regard to the French revolution, are the 
 more interesting, as these eminent statesmen were soon to be brought 
 face to face in the cabinet, the policy of which would be greatly 
 influenced by French affairs; for it was at this time that Washing- 
 ton wrote to Jefferson, offering him the situation of Secretary of 
 State. 
 
 Washington was on the eve of a journey through the Eastern 
 States, with a view, as he said, to observe the situation of the 
 country, and with a hope of perfectly reestablishing his health, 
 ■which a series of indispositions had much impaired. He set out 
 from New. York on the 15th of October, travelling in his carriage 
 with four horses, and accompanied by his official secretary. Major 
 Jackson, and his private secretary, Mr. Lear. Though averse 
 from public parade, he could not but be deeply affected and grati- 
 fied at every step by the manifestations of a people's love. 
 Wherever he came, all labor was suspended ; business neglected. 
 The bells were rung, the guns were fired ; there were civic proces- 
 sions and military parades and triumphal arches, and all classes 
 poured forth to testify, in every possible manner, their gratitude and 
 affection for the man whom they hailed as the Father of his 
 Country; and well did his noble stature, his dignified demeanor, 
 his matured years, and his benevolent aspect, suit that venerable 
 appellation. 
 
 In pursuance of the Governor's (the Hon. John Hancock's) ar- 
 rangement, the militia, with General Brooks at their head, and Mr. 
 Samuel Adams, the Lieut.-Governor, at the head of the Executive 
 Council, met Washington at Cambridge, and escorted him with 
 great ceremony to Boston. Being arrived at the grand entrance, 
 which is over what is called "The Neck," the Lieut.-Governor 
 and the Executive Council were brought to a sudden halt by ob- 
 serving the municipal authorities drawn up in their carriages, in 
 formal array, to pay civic honors to the city's guest. Here ensued 
 a great question of etiquette. The Executive Council insisted on 
 the right of t<lie Governor, as chief of the State, to receive and 
 welcome its guest, at the entrance of its capital. " He should 
 have met him at the boundary of the State over which he presides," 
 replied Jhe others; "and there have welcomed him to the hospi- 
 talities of the commonwealth. When the President is about to 
 enter the iowji, it is the delegated right of the municipal aut/tori' 
 ///'J thereof to receive and bid him welcome." The contending 
 parties remained drawn up resolutely in their carriages, while 
 aides-de-camp and marshals were posting to and fro between them, 
 carrying on a kind of diplomatic parley. In the meantime the 
 President, and Major Jackson, his secretary, had mounted on 
 horseback, and were waiting on the Neck to be conducted into the 
 town. The day was unusually cold and murky. Washington be- 
 came chilled and impatient, and when informed of the cause of 
 the detention, "Is there no other avenue into the town.'*" de- 
 manded he of Major Jackson. He was, in fact, on the point of 
 wheeling about, when word was brought that the controversy was 
 
I789-] RECEPTION IN BOSTON. S63 
 
 over, and that he would be received by the municipal authorities. 
 The streets, the doors, the windows, the housetops, were crowded 
 with well-dressed people of both sexes. " He was on horseback," 
 says an observer, "dressed in his old continental uniform, with 
 his hat off. He did not bow to the spectators as he passed, but 
 sat on his horse with a calm, dignified air. He dismounted at the 
 old State House, now City Hall, and came out on a temporary 
 balcony at the west end ; a long procession passed before him, 
 whose salutations he occasionally returned. These and other cere- 
 monials being over, the Lieutenant-Governor and Council, accom- 
 panied by the Vice President, conducted Washington to his lodg- 
 ings, where they took leave of him." Various addresses were 
 made to him in the course of his visit, but none that reached his 
 heart more directly than that of his old companions in arms, the 
 Cincinnati Society of Massachusetts, who hailed him as "their 
 glorious leader in war, their illustrious example in peace." "Dear, 
 indeed," said he, in reply, "is the occasion which restores an 
 intercourse with my associates in prosperous and adverse fortune ; 
 and enhanced are the triumphs of peace participated with those 
 whose virtue and valor so largely contributed to procure them. To 
 that virtue and valor your country has confessed her obligations. 
 Be mine the grateful task to add to the testimony of a connection 
 which it was my pride to own in the field, and is now my happi- 
 ness to acknowledge in the enjoyments of peace and freedom." 
 After remaining in Boston for a week, feted in the most hospitable 
 manner, he departed on Thursday, October 29th, at eight o'clock. 
 The escort was not punctual, but overtook him on the road. His 
 journey eastward terminated at Portsmouth, whence he turned his 
 face homeward by a middle route through the interior of the 
 country to Hartford, and thence to New York, where he arrived be- 
 tween two and three o'clock on the 13th of November. 
 
 Not long after Washington's return. Col. John Trumbull, his aide- 
 de-camp in former days, now an historical painter of eminence, 
 arrived from Europe, where he had been successfully prosecuting 
 his art and preparing for his grand pictures, illustrative of our 
 revolutionary history. At Mr. Jefferson's house in Paris, he had 
 been enabled to sketch from the life the portraits of several of the 
 French officers who had been present at the capture of CornwaSis, 
 and were now among the popular agitators of France. He had 
 renewed his military acquaintance with Lafayette ; witnessed the 
 outbreak of the revolution ; the storming of the Bastille ; and 
 attended the Marquis on one occasion, when the latter succeeded 
 in calming the riotous excesses of a mob, principally workmen, in 
 the Faubourg St. Antoine. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson had embarked for America, and had already 
 landed at Norfolk in Virginia. Washington immediately for- 
 warded to him his commission as Secretary of State, requesting to 
 know his determination on the subject. Jefferson, in reply, ex- 
 pressed himself flattered by the nomination, but dubious of his 
 being equal to its extensive and various duties, while, on the other 
 hand, he felt familiar with the duties of his present office. " But 
 
564 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 it is not for an individual to choose his path," said he. "You 
 are to marshal us as may best be for the pubhc good. Signify to 
 me, by another hne, your ultimate wish, and I shall conform to if 
 cordially. If it should be to remain in New York, my chief comr 
 fort will be to work under your eye ; my only shelter the authority 
 of your name and the wisdom of measures to be dictated by you 
 and implicitly executed by me." Washington replied that he con- 
 sidered the successful administration of the general government an 
 object of almost infinite consequence to the present and future 
 happiness of the citizens of the United States ; that he regarded the 
 office of Secretary for the department of State very important, and 
 that he knew of no person who, in his judgment, could better exe- 
 cute the duties of it than himself. Jefferson accordingly accepted 
 the nomination. 
 
 Congress reassembled on the 4th of January (1790), but a 
 quorum of the two Houses was not present until the 8th, when the 
 session was opened by Washington in form, with an address deliv- 
 ered before them in the Senate chamber. Among the most im- 
 portant objects suggested in the address for the deliberation of 
 Congress, were provisions for national defence ; provisions for 
 facilitating intercourse with foreign nations, and defraying expenses 
 of diplomatic agents ; laws for the naturalization of foreigners ; 
 uniformity in the currency, weights, and measures of the United 
 States; facilities for the advancement of commerce, agriculture, 
 and manufactures ; attention to the post-office and post-roads ; 
 measures for the promotion of science and literature, and for the 
 support of public credit. The government was now organized, 
 apparently, to the satisfaction of all parties; but its efficiency 
 would essentially depend on the success of a measure which 
 Washington had pledged himself to institute, and which was yet 
 to be tried; namely, a system of finance adapted to revive the 
 national credit, and place the public debt in a condition to be paid 
 off. At the close of the war the debt amounted to forty-two mil- 
 lions of dollars ; but so little had the country been able to fulfil its 
 engagements, owing to the want of a sovereign legislature having 
 the sole and exclusive power of laying duties upon imports, and 
 thus providing adequate resources, that the debt had swollen, 
 through arrears of interest, to upwards of fifty-four millions. Of 
 this amount nearly eight millions were due to France, betw^een 
 three and four millions to private lenders in Holland, and about 
 two hundred and fifty thousand in Spain ; making, altogether, 
 nearly twelve millions due abroad. The debt contracted at home 
 amounted to upwards of forty-two millions, and was due, originally, 
 to officers and soldiers of the revolutionary war, who had risked 
 their lives for the cause ; farmers who had furnished supplies for 
 the public service, or whose property had been assumed for it ; 
 capitahsts who, in critical periods of the war, had adventured 
 their fortunes in support of their country's independence. The 
 domestic debt, therefore, could not have had a more sacred and 
 patriotic origin ; but in the long delay of national justice, the paper 
 which represented these outstanding claims, had sunk to less than 
 
lygo.] THE NATIONAL DEBT FUNDED. 565 
 
 a sixth of its nominal value, and the larger portion of it had been 
 parted with at that depreciated rate, either in the course of trade, 
 or to speculative purchasers, who were willing to take the risk of 
 eventual payment. In public newspapers, however, and in pri- 
 vate circles, the propriety of a discrimination between the assignees 
 and the original holders of the public securities, was freely dis- 
 cussed. Beside the foreign and domestic debt of the federal gov- 
 ernment, the States, individually, were involved in liabilities con- 
 tracted for the common cause, to an aggregate amount of about 
 twenty-five millions of dollars ; of which more than one-half was 
 due from three of them ; Massachusetts and South Carolina each 
 owing more than five milhons, and Virginia more than three and a 
 half. The reputation and the well-being of the government were, 
 therefore, at stake upon the issue of some plan to retrieve the na- 
 tional credit, and establish it upon a firm and secure foundation. 
 The Secretary of the Treasury (Mr. Hamilton), had prepared such a 
 plan. He asserted the propriety of paying the foreign debt accord- 
 ing to its terms. He asserted, also, the equal validity of the origi- 
 nal claims of the American creditors of the government, whether 
 those creditors were the original holders of its certificates or sub- 
 sequent purchasers of them at a depreciated value. The idea of 
 any distinction between them, which some were inclined to ad- 
 vance, he repudiated as alike unjust, impolitic, and impracticable. 
 He urged, moreover, the assumption, by the general government, 
 of the separate debts of the States, contracted for the common 
 cause, and that a like provision should be made for thdr payment 
 as for the payment of those of the Union. They were all con- 
 tracted in the struggle for national independence, not for the inde- 
 pendence of any particular part. No more money would be re- 
 quired for their discharge as federal, than as State debts. Money 
 could be raised more readily by the federal goverment than by the 
 States, and all clashing and jealousy between State and federal 
 debtors would thus be prevented. He recommended, therefore, 
 that the entire mass of debt be funded ; the Union made responsi- 
 ble for it, and taxes imposed for its hquidation. He suggested, 
 moreover, the expediency, for the greater security of the debt and 
 punctuahty in the payment of interest, that the domestic creditors 
 submit to an abatement of accruing interest. The plan was re- 
 ported to the House by Mr. Hamilton, the 14th of January, but 
 did not undergo consideration until the 8th of February, when it 
 was opposed with great earnestness, especially the point of assum- 
 ing the State debts, as tending to consohdation, as giving an undue 
 influence to the general government, and as being of doubtful 
 constitutionality. The measure, however, passed, in Committee 
 of the Whole, on the 9th of March, by a vote of 31 to 26. The 
 funding of the State debts was supposed to benefit, materially, the 
 Northern States, in which was the entire capital of the country ; 
 yet South Carolina voted for the assumption. Opinions were hon- 
 estly divided on the subject. The great majority were aiming to 
 do their duty — to do what was right; but their disagreement was 
 the result of real difficulties incident to the intricate and compli- 
 
566 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 cated problem with which they had to deal. Washington had lit- 
 tle sympathy with these sectional jealousies; and the noble lan- 
 guage in which he rebukes them, cannot be too largely cited. " I 
 am sorry," observes he, "such jealousies should be gaining 
 ground and poisoning the minds of the southern people ; but, 
 admit the fact which is alleged as the cause of them, and give it 
 full scope, does it amount to more than was known to every man 
 of information before, at, and since the adoption of the Constitu- 
 tion? Was it not always beheved that there are some points 
 which peculiarly interest the Eastern States? Are there not other 
 points which equally concern the Southern States? If these States 
 are less tenacious of their interest, or if, while the Eastern move 
 in a solid phalanx to effect their views, the Southern are always 
 divided, which of the two is most to be blamed? That there is a 
 diversity of interests in the Union, none has denied. That this is 
 the case, also, in every State, is equally certain ; and that it even 
 extends to the counties of individual States, can be as readily 
 proved. To constitute a dispute, there must be two parties. To 
 understand it well, both parties, and all the circumstances must be 
 fully heard ; and, to accommodate differences, temper and mutual 
 forbearance are requisite. Common danger brought the States 
 into confederacy, and on the union our safety and importance de- 
 pend. A spirit of accommodation was the basis of the present 
 Constitution. Can it be expected, then, that the southern or east- 
 ern parts of the empire will succeed in all their measures? Cer- 
 tainly not. But I will readily grant that more points will be car- 
 ried by the latter than the former, and for the reason that in all 
 great national questions, they move in unison, whilst the others are 
 divided. I will ask another question, of the highest magnitude in 
 my mind, to wit, if the Eastern and Northern States are dangerous 
 in union, will they be less in separation? If self-interest is their gov- 
 erning principle, will it forsake them, or be restrained by such an 
 event? I hardly think it would. Then, independently of other 
 considerations, what would Virginia, and such other States as 
 might be inclined to join her, gain by a separation? Would they 
 not, most unquestionably, be the weaker party?" 
 
 At this juncture (March 21st), Mr. Jefferson arrived in New 
 York to undertake the duties of the Department of State. He 
 had just been in Virginia, where the forms and ceremonials adopted 
 at the seat of our government, were subjects of cavil and sneer ; 
 where it was reported that Washington affected a monarchical style 
 in his official intercourse; that he held court-like levees, and Mrs. 
 Washington "queenly drawing-rooms," at which none but the aris- 
 tocracy were admitted, that the manners of both were haughty, 
 and their personal habits reserved and exclusive. Jefferson looked 
 round him with an apprehensive eye, and appears to have seen 
 something to startle him at every turn. We give, from his private 
 correspondence, his own account of his impressions. "Being 
 fresh from the French revolution, while in its first and pure stage, 
 and, consequently, somewhat whetted up in my own repubhcan 
 principles, I found a state of things in the general society of the 
 
I790.J REPUBLICANISM VERSUS MONARCHY. 567 
 
 place, which I could not have supposed possible. I was aston- 
 ished to find the general prevalence of monarchical sentiments, 
 insomuch, that in maintaining those of republicanism, I had 
 always the whole company on my hands, never scarcely finding 
 among tliem a single co-advocate in that argument, unless some 
 old member of Congress happened to be present. The furthest 
 that any one would go in support of the republican features of our 
 new government, would be to say, 'the present constitution is well 
 as a beginning, and may be allowed a fair trial, but it is, in fact, 
 only a stepping stone to something better.'" This picture, given 
 under excitement and with preconceived notions, is probably over- 
 charged ; but, allowing it to be true, we can hardly wonder at it, 
 viewed in connection with the place and times. New York, during 
 the session of Congress, was the gathering place of politicians of 
 every party. The revolution of France had made the forms of gov- 
 ernment once more the usual topics of conversation, and revived the 
 conflicts of opinions on the subject. As yet, the history of the world 
 had furnished no favorable examples of popular government ; specu- 
 lative writers in England had contended that no government more 
 popular than their own, was consistent with either internal tran- 
 quillity, the supremacy of the laws, or a great extent of empire. Our 
 republic was ten times larger than any that had yet existed. Jay, one 
 of the calmest thinkers of the Union, expressed himself dubiously on 
 the subject. " Whether any people could long govern themselves in 
 an equal, uniform, and orderly manner, was a question of vital im- 
 portance to the cause of liberty, but a question which, like others, 
 whose solution depends on facts, could only be determined by Ex- 
 perience — now, as yet, there had been very few opportunities of 
 making the experiment." Alexander Hamilton, though pledged 
 and sincerely disposed to support the republican form, with regard 
 to our country, preferred, theoretically , a monarchical form; and, 
 being frank of speech, and, as Gouverneur Morris writes, "prone 
 to mount his hobby," may have spoken openly in favor of that 
 form as suitable to France ; and as his admirers took their creed 
 from him, opinions of the kind may have been uttered pretty freely 
 at dinner-tables. These, however, which so much surprised and 
 shocked Mr. Jefferson, were probably merely speculative opinions, 
 broached in unguarded hours, with no sinister design, by men who 
 had no thought of paving the way for a monarchy. 
 
 The question of the assumption of the State debts was resumed 
 in Congress on the 29th of March. On the 12th of April, when 
 the question to commit was taken, there was a majority of two 
 against the assumption. The decision of Congress, however, was 
 ultimately in favor of it. A specific sum was assumed (^21,500,000), 
 and this was distributed among the States in specific portions. 
 Thus modified, it passed the Senate, July 22d, by the close vote 
 of fourteen to twelve ; and the House, July 24th, by thirty-four to 
 twenty-eight, "after having," says Washington, •• been agitated 
 with a warmth and intemperance, with prolixity and threats which, 
 it is to be feared, have lessened the dignity of Congress and de- 
 creased the respect once entertained for it." The question about 
 
568 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the permanent seat of government, was now compromised. It 
 was agreed that Congress should continue for ten years to hold 
 its sessions at Philadelphia ; during which time the public build, 
 ings should be erected at some place on the Potomac, to which the 
 government should remove at the expiration of the above term. A 
 territory, ten miles square, selected for the purpose on the confines 
 of Maryland and Virginia, was ceded by those States to the United 
 States, and subsequently designated as the District of Columbia. 
 One of the last acts of the Executive during the session was the 
 conclusion of a treaty of peace and friendship with the Creek 
 nation of Indians, represented at New York by Mr. M'Gillivray, 
 and thirty of the chiefs and head men. By this treaty (signed 
 August 7th), an extensive territory, claimed by Georgia, was re- 
 linquished greatly to the discontent of that State ; being considered 
 by it an unjustifiable abandonment of its rights and interests. 
 Congress adjourned on the 12th of August. Jefferson, com- 
 menting on the discord that had prevailed for a time among the 
 members, observes, that in the latter part of the session, they had 
 reacquired the harmony which had always distinguished their pro- 
 ceedings before the introduction of the two disagreeable subjects 
 of the Assumption and the Residence: "these," said he, "really 
 threatened, at one time, a separation of the legislature sine die.'' 
 
 Washington, free himself from all jealousy of the talents and 
 popularity of others, and solely actuated by zeal for the public 
 good, had sought the ablest men to assist him in his arduous task, 
 and supposed them influenced by the same unselfish spirit. In a 
 letter 10 Lafayette, he writes, " Many of your old acquaintances and 
 friends are concerned with me in the administration of this govern • 
 ment. By having Mr. Jefferson at the head of the department of 
 State, Mr. Jay of the judiciary, Hamilton of the treasury, and 
 Knox of war, I feel myself supported by able coadjutors who har- 
 monize extremely well together." Yet, at this very moment, a 
 lurking spirit of rivalry between Jefferson and Hamilton was 
 already existing and daily gaining strength. Jefferson, who con- 
 sidered Hamilton a monarchist in his principles, regarded all his 
 financial schemes with suspicion, as intended to strengthen the in- 
 fluence of the treasury, and make its chief the master of every 
 vote in the legislature, "which might give to the government the 
 direction suited to his political views." 
 
 The attention of Washington was often called off from affairs at 
 home to affairs in France; and to the conspicuous and perilous 
 part which his friend and disciple Lafayette, was playing in the 
 great revolutionary drama. "Your friend, the Marquis de Lafay- 
 ette," writes the Marquis de la Luzerne, " finds himself at the head 
 of the revolution ; and, indeed, it is a very fortunate circumstance 
 for the State that he is, but very little so for himself. Never has 
 any man been placed in a more critical situation." Lafayette 
 looked back to the time when, in his early campaigns in America, 
 he had shared Washington's councils, bivouacked with him on the 
 field of battle, and been benefitted by his guardian wisdom in every 
 emergency. " How often, my well-beloved general," writes he 
 
I790.] THE KEY OF THE BASTILLE. 569 
 
 (January , 1790), "have I regretted your sage councils and 
 friendly support. We have advanced in the career of the revolu- 
 tion without the vessel of State being wrecked against the rocks of 
 aristocracy or faction. At present, that which existed has been 
 destroyed ; a new political edifice is forming ; without being per- 
 fect, it is sufficient to assure liberty. The result will, I hope, be 
 happy for my country and for humanity. One perceives the 
 germs of liberty in other parts of Europe. I will encourage their 
 development by all the means in my power." Far removed as 
 Washington was from the theatre of political action, and but little 
 acquainted with many of the minute circumstances which might in- 
 fluence important decisions, he was cautious in hazarding opinions 
 in his replies to his French correspondents. Indeed, the whole 
 revolutionary movement appeared to him so extraordinary in its 
 commencement, so wonderful in its progress, and so stupendous in 
 its possible consequences, that he declared himself almost lost in 
 the contemplation of it. " Of one thing you may rest perfectly 
 assured," writes he to the Marquis de la Luzerne, " that no one 
 can wish more sincerely for the prosperity of the French nation 
 than I do. Nor is it without the most sensible pleasure that I learn 
 that our friend, the Marquis de Lafayette, has, in acting the ardu- 
 ous part which has fallen to his share, conducted himself with so 
 much wisdom and apparently with such general satisfaction." 
 In March, 1790, Lafayette writes: "Permit me, my dear gen- 
 eral, to offer you a picture representing the Bastille, such as it was 
 some days after I had given orders for its demolition. I make you 
 homage, also, of the principal key of this fortress of despotism. It 
 is a tribute which I owe you, as son to my adopted father, as aide- 
 de-camp to my general, as missionary of liberty to its patriarch." 
 Thomas Paine was to have been the bearer of the key, but he for- 
 warded it to Washington from London. "I feel myself happy," 
 writes he, "in being the person through whom the Marquis has 
 conveyed this early trophy of the spoils of despotism, and the first 
 ripe fruits of American principles, transplanted into Europe, to his 
 great master and patron. That the principles of America opened 
 the Bastille is not to be doubted, and, therefore, the key comes to 
 the right place." Washington received the key with reverence, as 
 a "token of the victory gained by liberty over despotism ;" and 
 it is still preserved at Mount Vernon, as a precious historical relic. 
 While his regard for the French nation made him rejoice in the 
 progress of the political reform which he considered essential to its 
 welfare, he felt a generous solicitude for the personal safety of the 
 youthful monarch, who had befriended America in its time of 
 need. " Happy am I, my good friend," writes he to the Marquis, 
 (August 11), "that, amidst all the tremendous tempests which 
 have assailed your political ship, you have had address and forti- 
 tude enough to steer her hitherto safely through the quicksands 
 and rocks which threatened instant destruction on every side ; and 
 that your young king, in all things, seems so well disposed to con- 
 form to the wishes of the nation. In such an important, such a 
 hazardous voyage, when everything dear and sacred is embarked. 
 
570 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 you know full well, my best wishes have never left you for a 
 moment. Yet I will avow, that the accounts we received through 
 the English papers, which were sometimes our only channels of 
 information, caused our fears of failure almost to exceed our ex- 
 pectations of success." Those fears were not chimerical; for, at 
 the very time he penned this letter, the Jacobin club of Paris had 
 already sent forth ramifications throughout France; corresponding 
 clubs were springing up by hundreds in the provinces, and every- 
 thing was hurrying forward to a violent catastrophe. 
 
 Washington, accompanied by Mr. Jefferson, departed by water 
 (August 14) on a visit to Rhode Island, which State had recently 
 acceded to the Union. He was cordially welcomed by the inhabi- 
 tants, and after an absence of ten days, he departed for his be- 
 loved Mount Vernon, there to cast off public cares as much as 
 possible, and enjoy the pleasures of the country during the residue 
 of the recess of Congress. 
 
 Frequent depredations had of late been made on our frontier 
 settlements by what Washington termed "certain banditti of 
 Indians" from the north-west side of the Ohio. Some of our peo- 
 ple had been massacred and others carried into deplorable cap- 
 tivity. Strict justice and equity had always formed the basis of 
 W^ashington's dealings with the Indian tribes, and he had endeav- 
 ored to convince them that such was the general policy of our gov- 
 ernment ; but his efforts were often thwarted by the conduct of our 
 own people ; the encroachments of land speculators and the law- 
 less conduct of our frontiersmen ; and jealousies thus excited were 
 fomented by the intrigues of foreign agents. The Indians of the 
 Wabash and Miami rivers, who were the present aggressors, were 
 numerous, warlike, and not deficient in disciphne. They were 
 well armed also, obtaining weapons and ammunition from the posts 
 which the British still retained within the territories of the United 
 States, contrary to the treaty of peace. An act had been provided 
 for emergencies, by which the President was empowered to 
 call out the militia for the protection of the frontier ; this act 
 Washington put in force in the interval of Congress ; and under 
 it an expedition was set on foot, which began its march on 
 the 30th of Sept. from Fort Washington (which stood on the 
 site of the present city of Cincinnati). Brig. Gen. Harmer, a vet- 
 eran of the Revolution, led the expedition, having under him 320 
 regulars, with militia detachments from Pennsylvania and Virginia 
 (or Kentucky), making in all 1453 men. After a march of seven- 
 teen days, they approached the principal village of the Miamis. 
 The Indians did not await an attack, but set fire to the village and 
 fled to the woods. The destruction of the place, with that of large 
 quantities of provisions, was completed. An Indian trail being 
 discovered, Col. Hardin, a continental officer who commanded the 
 Kentucky militia, was detached to follow it, at the head of one 
 hundred and fifty of his men, and about thirty regulars, under 
 Capt. Armstrong and Ensign Hartshorn. They followed the trail 
 for about six miles, and were crossing a plain covered by thickets, 
 when suddenly there were volleys of rifles on each side, from un- 
 
i;9o.l ^-47? WITH THE INDIANS. 571 
 
 seen marksmen, accompanied by the horrid war-whoop. The trail 
 had, in fact, decoyed them into an ambush of seven hundred sav- 
 ages, under the famous warrior Little Turtle. The militia fled, 
 without firing a musket. The savages now turned upon the little 
 handful of regulars, who stood their ground, and made a brave 
 resistance with the bayonet until all were slain, excepting Capt. 
 Armstrong, Ensign Hartshorn, and five privates. The ensign 
 was saved by falling behind a log, which screened him from his 
 pursuers. Annstrong plunged into a swamp, where he sank up to 
 his neck, and remained for several hours of the night within two 
 hundred yards of the field of action, a spectator of the war-dance 
 of the savages over the slain. The two officers who escaped thus 
 narrowly, found their way back to the camp about six miles dis- 
 tant. The army effected the main purpose of the expedition in 
 laying waste the Indian villages and destroying their winter's stock 
 of provisions, after which it commenced its march back to Fort 
 Washington. On the 21st of Oct., when it was halted about ten 
 miles to the west of Chillicothe, Col. Hardin was detached with a 
 body of militia and sixty regulars, under Major Willys, and had 
 another encounter with Little Turtle and his braves. It was a 
 bloody battle, fought well on both sides. The militia behaved 
 bravely, and lost many men and officers, as did the regulars ; 
 Major Willys fell at the commencement of the action. Col. Har-t 
 din was at length compelled to retreat, leaving the dead and 
 wounded in the hands of the enemy. The expedition made its 
 way back to Fort Washington, on the banks of the Ohio. 
 
 Congress reassembled, according to adjournment, on the first 
 Monday in Dec, at Philadelphia. A house belonging to Mr. 
 Robert Morris, the financier, had been hired by Washington for 
 his residence, and at his request, had undergone additions and alter- 
 ations "in a plain and neat, and not by any means in an extrava- 
 gant style." His secretary, Mr. Lear, had made every prepara- 
 tion for his arrival and accommodation, and among other things, 
 had spoken of the rich and elegant style in which the state car- 
 riage was fitted up. " I had rather have heard," replied Wash- 
 ington, "that my repaired coach was plain and elegant than rich 
 and elegant." Congress, at its opening, was chiefly occupied in 
 financial arrangements. According to the statement of the Secre- 
 tars of the Treasury, an additional annual revenue of ^826,000 
 would be required, principally to meet the additional charges 
 arising from the assumption of the State debts. He proposed to raise 
 it by an increase of the impost on foreign distilled spirits, and a 
 tax by way of excise on spirits distilled at home. An impost and 
 Excise bill was accordingly introduced into Congress, and finally 
 carried through the House. Mr. Hamilton, in his former Treasury 
 report, had recommended the establishment of a National Bank ; 
 he now, in a special report, urged the policy of the measure. A 
 bill, introduced in conformity with his views, was passed in the 
 Senate, but vehemently opposed in the House; partly on 
 considerations of policy ; but chiefly on the ground of con- 
 stitutionality. On one side it was denied that the constitution 
 
572 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 had given to Congress the power of incorporation ; on the 
 other side it was insisted that such power was incident to the 
 power vested in Congress for raising money. The bill, after pass- 
 ing the House of Representatives by a majority of nineteen votes, 
 came before the executive for his approval. Washington was fully 
 ahve to the magnitude of the question and the interest felt in it by 
 the opposing parties. The cabinet was divided on it. Jefferson 
 and Randolph denied its constitutionality, Hamilton and Knox 
 maintained it. Washington gave his sanction to the act, and the 
 bill was carried into effect. 
 
 The objection of Jefferson to a bank was not merely on constitu- 
 tional grounds. In his subsequent writings he avows himself 
 opposed to banks, as introducing a paper instead of a cash system 
 — raising up a moneyed aristocracy, and abandoning the public to 
 the discretion of avarice and swindlers. Paper money might have 
 some advantages, but its abuses were inevitable, and by breaking 
 up the measure of value, it made a lottery of all private property. 
 These objections he maintained to his dying day. Washington, he 
 affirmed, was not aware ofthedriftor effect of Hamilton's schemes. 
 " Unversed in financial projects and calcalations and budgets, his 
 approbation of them was bottomed on his confidence in the man." 
 Washington, however, was not prone to be swayed in his judg- 
 nients by blind partiality. When he distrusted his own knowledge 
 in regard to any important measure, he asked the written opinions 
 of those of his council who he thought were better informed, and 
 examined and weighed them, and put them to the test of his almost 
 unfailing sagacity. His confidence in Hamilton's talents, informa- 
 tion, and integrity had led him to seek his counsels ; but his appro- 
 bation of those counsels \vas bottomed on a careful investigation 
 of them. It was the same in regard to the counsels of Jefferson ; 
 they were received with great deference, but always deliberately 
 and scrupulously weighed. The opposite policy of these rival 
 statesmen brought them into incessant colhsion. " Hamilton and 
 myself," writes Jefferson, "were daily pitted in the cabinet hke 
 two cocks." The warm-hearted Knox always sided with his old 
 companion in arms, whose talents he revered. He is often noticed 
 with a disparaging sneer by Jefferson, in consequence. Randolph 
 commonly adhered to the latter. Washington's calm and massive 
 intellect overruled any occasional discord. His poHcy with regard 
 to his constitutional advisers has been happily estimated by R. M. 
 T. Hunter, of Virginia. " He sought no unit cabinet, according 
 to the set phrase of succeeding times. He asked no suppression 
 of sentiment, no concealment of opinion ; he exhibited no mean 
 jealousy of high talent in others. He gathered around him the 
 greatest public men of that day, and some of them to be ranked 
 with the greatest of any day. He did not leave Jefferson and 
 Hamilton without the cabinet, to shake, perhaps, the whole fabric 
 of government in their fierce wars and rivalries, but he took them 
 within, where he himself might arbitrate their disputes as they 
 arose, and turn to the best account for the country their sugges- 
 tions as they were made." In the meantime two pohtical parties 
 
I790.] WASHINGTON'S INDIAN POLICY. 573 
 
 were forming throughout the Union, under the adverse standards 
 of these statesmen. Both had the good of the country at heart, 
 but differed as to the policy by which it was to be secured. The 
 FederaHsts, who looked up to Hamilton as their model, were i|i 
 favor of strengthening the general government so as to give it 
 weight and dignity abroad and efficiency at home ; to guard it 
 against the encroachments of the individual States and a general 
 tendency to anarchy. The other party, known as republicans or 
 democrats, and taking Mr. Jefferson's view of affairs, saw in all 
 the measures advocated by the Federalists, an intention to con- 
 vert the Federal into a great central or consolidated government, 
 preparatory to a change from a republic to a monarchy. 
 
 The particulars of General Harmer's expedition against the 
 Indians, when reported to Congress, gave great dissatisfaction. 
 Further troubles in that quarter were apprehended, for the Miamis 
 were said to be less disheartened by the ravage of their villages 
 than exultant at the successful ambuscades of Little Turtle. Three 
 Seneca chiefs, Cornplanter, Half Town, and Great Tree, being at 
 the seat of government on business of their own nation, offered to 
 visit these belligerent tribes, andpersuade them to bury the hatchet. 
 Washington, in a set speech, encouraged them in the undertaking, 
 "By this humane measure," said he, "you will render these mis- 
 taken people a great service, and probably prevent their being 
 swept off of the face of the earth. The United States require only 
 that these people should demean themselves peaceably. But they 
 may be assured that the United States are able, and will most cer- 
 tainly punish them severely for all their robberies and murders." 
 He had always been earnest in his desire to civilize the savages, 
 but had little faith in the expedient of sending their young men to 
 our colleges ; the true, means, he thought, was to introduce the arts 
 and habits of husbandry among them. 
 
 In the course of the present session, Congress received and 
 granted the applications of Kentucky and Vermont for admission 
 into the Union, the former after August, 1792; the latter imme- 
 diately. On the 3d of March the term of this first Congress expired, 
 Washington, after reciting the various important measures that had 
 been effected, testified to the great harmony and cordiality which 
 had prevailed. As the Indians on the north-west side of the Ohio 
 still continued their hostilities, one of the last measures of Congress 
 had been an act to augment the military establishments, and to 
 place in the hands of the executive more ample means for the pro- 
 tection of the frontiers. A new expedition against the belligerent 
 tribes had, in consequence, been projected. Gen. St. Clair, actu- 
 ally governor of the territory west of the Ohio, was appoiiited com- 
 mander-in-chief of the forces to be employed. Washington had 
 been deeply chagrined by the mortifying disasters of Gen. Har- 
 mer's expedition to the Wabash. In taking leave of his old mili- 
 tary comrade, St. Clair, he wished him success and honor, but 
 gave him a solemn warning. "You have your instructions from 
 the Secretary of War. I had a strict eye to them, and will add but 
 one word — Beware of a surprise ! You know how the Indians fight. 
 
574 LTrE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 I repeat it — Beware of a surprise ! '* With these warning words 
 sounding in his ear, St. Clair departed. 
 
 In the month of March Washington set out on a tour through 
 the Southern States ; travelling with one set of horses and making 
 occasional halts. The route was by Fredericksburg, Richmond, 
 Wilmington (N. C.) and Charleston to Savannah ; thence to 
 Augusta, Columbia, and the interior towns of North Carolina and 
 Virginia, comprising a journey of 1887 miles ; all which he accom- 
 plished without any interruption from sickness, bad weather, or 
 any untoward accident. "Indeed," writes he, "so highly were 
 we favored that we arrived at each place where I proposed to make 
 any halt, on the very day I fixed upon before we set out. The same 
 horses performed the whole tour ; and, although much reduced in 
 flesh, kept up their full spirits to the last day." He returned to 
 Philadelphia on the 6th of July, much pleased with his tour. It had 
 enabled him, he said, to see, with his own eyes, the situation of the 
 country, and to learn more accurately the disposition of the people, 
 than he could have done from any verbal information. " Every 
 day's experience of the government of the United States," writes 
 he to David Humphreys, "seems to confirm its estabhshment, 
 and to render it more popular. A ready acquiescence in the laws 
 made under it shows, in a strong light, the confidence which the 
 people have in their representatives, and in the upright views of 
 those who administer the government. Our public credit stands 
 on that ground, which, three years ago, it would have been mad- 
 ness to have foretold. The astonishing rapidity with which the newly 
 instituted bank was filled, gives an unexampled proof of the 
 resources of our countrymen and their confidence in public 
 measures. On the first day of opening the subscription the whole 
 number of shares (twenty thousand) were taken up in one hour, 
 and application made for upwards of four thousand shares more 
 than were granted by the institution, besides many others that 
 were coming in from various quarters." — Letters from Gouverneur 
 Morris gave a gloomy picture of French affairs. " This unhappy 
 country," writes he to Washington, " bewildered in pursuit of met- 
 aphysical whimsies, presents to our moral view a mighty ruin. 
 Like the remi>ants of ancient magnificence, we admire the archi- 
 tecture of the temple, while we detest the false god to whom it was 
 dedicated. Daws and ravens, and the birds of night, now build 
 their nests in its niches. The sovereign, humbled to the level of a 
 beggar's pity, without resources, without authority, without a friend. 
 The Assembly at once a master and a slave, new in power, wild 
 in theory, raw in practice. It engrosses all functions, though inca- 
 pable of exercising any, and has taken from this fierce, ferocious 
 people, every restraint of religion and of respect. Lafayette has 
 hitherto acted a splendid part. The king obeys but detests him. 
 fie obeys because he fears. Whoever possesses the royal per- 
 son may do whatever he pleases with the royal charac- 
 ter and authority. Hence, it happens that the ministers are of 
 Lafayette's appointment." Lafayette's letters depict the troubles 
 of a patriot leader in the stormy time of a revolution : a leader 
 
I79I.] THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 575 
 
 warm, generous, honest, impulsive, but not far-seeing. " I con* 
 tinue to be forever tossed about on an ocean of factions and com- 
 motions of every kind. Unfortunately, the people have much bet* 
 ter learnt how to overturn despotism, than to comprehend the duty 
 of submission to law. It is to you, my dear general, the patriarch 
 and generalissimo of the promoters of universal liberty, that I ought 
 always to render a faithful account of the conduct of your aide-de- 
 camp in the service of this grand cause." Sympathy with the 
 popular cause prevailed with a part of Washington's cabinet. 
 Jefferson was ardent in his wishes that the revolution might be 
 established. He felt, he said, that the permanence of our own 
 revolution leaned, in some degree, on that of France ; that a failure 
 there would be a powerful argument to prove there must be a fail- 
 ure here, and that the success of the French revolution was neces- 
 sary to stay up our own and '' prevent its falling back to that kind 
 of half-way house, the English constitution." Outside of the cab- 
 inet, the Vice President, John Adams, regarded the French revo- 
 lution with strong distrust. His official position, however, was too 
 negative in its nature to afford him an opportunity of exerting influ- 
 ence on public affairs. He considered the post of Vice President 
 beneath his talents. " My country," writes he, "has, in its wisdom, 
 contrived for me the most insignificant office that ever the inven- 
 tion of a man contrived or his imagination conceived." Impatient 
 of a situation in which, as he said, he could do neither good nor 
 evil, he resorted, for mental relief, to the press, and for upwards 
 of a year had exercised his fertile and ever ready pen, in furnish- 
 ing Fenno's Gazette of the United States with a series of papers 
 entitled " Discourses on Davila," being an analysis of Davila's 
 History of the Civil Wars of France in the i6th century. The aim 
 of Mr. Adams, in this series, was to point out to his countrymen 
 the dangers to be apprehended from powerful factions in ill-bal- 
 anced forms of government ; but he was charged with advocating 
 monarchy, and laboring to prepare the way for an hereditary 
 presidency. To counteract these " political heresies," a reprint 
 of Paine' s Rights of Man, written in reply to Burke's pamphlet on 
 the French revolution, appeared under the auspices of Mr. Jeffer- 
 son. While the public mind was thus agitated with conflicting 
 opinions, news arrived in August, of the flight of Louis XVI. from 
 Paris, and his recapture at Varennes. All Jefferson's hatred of 
 royalty was aroused by this breach of royal faith. " Such are the 
 fruits of that form of government," said he, scornfully, "which 
 heaps importance on idiots, and which the tories of the present 
 day are trying to preach into our favor. It would be unfortunate 
 were it in the power of any one man to defeat the issue of so beau- 
 tiful a revolution. I hope and trust that it is not, and that, for the 
 good of suffering humanity all over the earth, that revolution will 
 be established and spread all over the world." He was the first 
 to communicate the intelligence to Washington, who was holding one 
 of his levees, and observes, " I never saw him so much dejected by 
 any event in my life." 
 
 The second Congress assembled at Philadelphia on the 24th of 
 
5-/6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 October, and on the 25th Washington delivered his opening 
 speech. After remarking upon the prosperous situation of the 
 country, and the success which had attended its financial meas- 
 ures, he adverted to the offensive operations against the Indians,- 
 which government had been compelled to adopt for the protection 
 of the Western frontier. Two expeditions had been organized in 
 Kentucky against the villages on the Wabash. The first, in May, 
 ■was led by Gen. Charles Scott, having Gen. Wilkinson as second 
 in command. The second, a volunteer enterprise, in August, was 
 led by Wilkinson alone. Very little good was effected, or glory 
 gained by either of these expeditions. The troops for Gen. St. 
 Clair's expedition assembled early in September, in the vicinity of 
 Fort Washington (now Cincinnati). There were about two thou- 
 sand regulars, and one thousand militia. An arduous task was 
 before them. Roads were to be opened through a wilderness; 
 bridges constructed for the conveyance of artillery and stores, and 
 forts to be built so as to keep up a line of communication between 
 the Wabash and the Ohio, the base of operations. The troops 
 commenced their march directly North, on the 6th or 7th of Sep- 
 tember, cutting their way through the woods, and slowly construct- 
 ing the line of forts. After placing garrisons in the forts, the gen- 
 eral continued his march. It was a forced one with him, for he 
 was so afflicted with the gout that he could not walk, and had to 
 be helped on and off of his horse; but his only chance to keep his 
 little army together was to move on. A number of the Virginia 
 troops had already, on the 27th of October, insisted on their dis- 
 charges, and the time of the other battalions was nearly up. The 
 army had proceeded six days after leaving Fort Jefferson, and 
 were drawing near a part of the country where they were likely to 
 meet with Indians, when, on the 30th of October, sixty of the 
 militia deserted in a body. The 1st United States regiment, 300 
 men, under Major Hamtranck, was detached to march back be- 
 yond Fort Jefferson, apprehend these deserters, if possible, and, at 
 all events, prevent the provisions that might be on the way, from 
 being rifled. Thus reduced to 1,400 effective rank and file, the 
 army continued its march to a point about twenty-nine miles from 
 Fort Jefferson, and ninety-seven from Fort Washington, and fif- 
 teen miles south of the Miami villages, where it encamped November 
 3d, on a rising ground with a stream forty feet wide in front, running 
 westerly. This stream was mistaken by Gen. St. Clair for the St. 
 Mary, which empties itself into the Miami of the lakes; but it was, 
 in fact, a tributary of the Wabash. A number of new and old 
 Indian camps showed that this had been a place of general resort; 
 and in the bends of the stream were tracks of a party of fifteen, 
 horse and foot; a scouting party most probably, which must have 
 quitted the ground just before the arrival of the army. The 
 ground descended gradually in front of the encampment to the 
 stream, which, at this time, was fordable, and meandered in its 
 course; in some places, one hundred yards distant from the camp, 
 in others not more than twenty-five. The immediate spot of the 
 encampment was very defensible against regular troops; but it was 
 
I79I-J THE INDIAN'S SURPRISE ST. CLAIR. 577 
 
 surrounded by close woods, dense thickets, and trunks of fallen 
 trees, with here and there a ravine, and a small swamp — all the 
 best kind of cover for stealthy Indian warfare. The militia were 
 encamped beyond the stream about a quarter of a mile in the 
 advance, on. a high flat, a much more favorable position than that 
 occupied by the main body. About half an hour before sunrise on 
 November 4, and just after the troops had been dismissed on parade, 
 a horrible sound burst forth from the woods around the miUtia 
 camp, resembling, says an officer, the jangling of an infinitude of 
 horse-bells. It was the direful Indian yell, followed by the sharp 
 reports of the deadly rifle. The militia returned a feeble fire and 
 then took to flight, dashing helter-skelter into the other camp. The 
 first line of continental troops, which was hastily forming, was 
 throvvn into disorder. The Indians were close upon the heels of 
 the flying militia, and would have entered the camp with them, 
 but the sight of troops drawn up with fixed bayonets to receive 
 them, checked their ardor, and they threw themselves behind logs 
 and bushes at the distance of seventy yards ; and immediately 
 commenced an attack upon the first line, which soon was extended 
 to the second. The great weight of the attack was upon the cen- 
 ter of each line where the artillery was placed. The artillery, if 
 not well served, was bravely fought; a quantity of canister and 
 some round shot were thrown in the direction whence the Indians 
 fired; but, concealed as they were, and only seen occasionally as 
 they sprang from one covert to another, it was impossible to direct 
 the pieces to advantage. The artillerists themselves were exposed 
 to a murderous fire, and every officer, and more than two-thirds of 
 the men, were killed and wounded. Twice the Indians pushed 
 into camp, delivering their fire and then rushing on with the toma- 
 hawk, but each time they were driven back. Gen. Butler had 
 been shot from his horse, and was sitting down to have his wound 
 dressed, when a daring savage, darting into camp, tomahawked 
 and scalped him. He failed to carry off his trophy, being instantly 
 slain. The veteran St. Clair, who, unable to mount his horse, was 
 borne about on a litter, preserved his coolness in the midst of the 
 peril and disaster, giving his orders with judgment and self-posses- 
 sion. He ordered Col. Darke, with his regiment of regulars, to 
 rouse the Indians from their covert with the bayonet, and turn 
 their left flank. This was executed with great spirit : the enemy 
 were driven three or four hundred yards; but, for want of cavalry 
 or riflemen, the pursuit slackened, and the troops were forced to 
 give back in turn. The savages had now got into the camp by 
 the left flank; again several charges were made, but in vain. 
 Great carnage was suffered from the enemy concealed in the 
 woods; every shot seemed to take effect; all the officers of the 
 second regiment were picked off, excepting three. The contest 
 had now endured for more than two hours and a half. Tlie spirits 
 of the troops flagged under the loss of the officers; half of the 
 army was killed, and the situation of the remainder was desperate. 
 There appeared to be no alternative but a retreat. St. Clair 
 ordered Col. Darke, with the second regiment, to make another 
 
 19 
 
578 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 charge, as if to turn the right wing of the enemy, but, in fact, to 
 regain the road from which the army was cut off. This object was 
 effected. Some of the wounded officers were brought off on 
 horses, but several of the disabled men had to be left on the 
 ground. The poor fellows charged their pieces before they were 
 left: and the firing of musketry heard by the troops after they 
 quitted the camp, told that their unfortunate comrades were sell- 
 ing their lives dear. It was a disorderly flight. The troops tlirew 
 away arms, ammunition, accoutrements; even the officers, in some 
 instances, divested themselves of their fusees. The general was 
 mounted on a pack horse which could not be pricked out of a 
 walk. By seven in the evening, the fugitives reached Fort Jeffer- 
 son, a distance of twenty-nine miles. Here they met Major Ham- 
 tranck with the first regiment; but, as this force was far from suf- 
 ficient to make up for the losses of the morning, the retreat was 
 continued to Fort Washington, where the army arrived on the 8th 
 at noon, shattered and broken-spirited. The whole loss of regular 
 troops and levies amounted to five hundred and fifty killed, and 
 two hundred wounded. Out of ninety-five commissioned officers 
 who were on the field, thirty-one were slain and twenty-four 
 wounded. Poor St. Clair's defeat has been paralleled with that of 
 Braddock. No doubt, when he realized the terrible havoc that 
 had been made, he thought sadly of Washington's parting words, 
 "Beware of a surprise !" 
 
 Toward' s the close of a winter's day in December, an officer in 
 uniform dismounted in front of the President's house, and, giving 
 the bridle to his servant, knocked at the door. He was informed 
 by the porter that the President was at dinner and had company. 
 The officer was not to be denied ; he brought despatches for the 
 President. Washington rose from the table and went into the hall, 
 whence he returned in a short time and resumed his seat, apologiz- 
 ing for his absence, but without alluding to the cause of it. One 
 of the company, however, overheard him, as he took his seat, 
 mutter to himself, with an ejaculation of extreme impatience, "I 
 knew it would be so !" Mrs. Washington held her drawing-room 
 that evening. Washington appeared there with his usual serenity; 
 speaking courteously to every lady, as was his custom. By ten 
 o'clock all the company had gone ; Mrs. Washington retired soon 
 after, and W^ashington and his secretary alone remained. The 
 general walked slowly backward and forward for some minutes in 
 silence. As yet there had been no change in his manner. Tak- 
 ing a seat on a sofa by the fire he told Mr. Lear to sit down; the 
 latter had scarce time to notice that he was extremely agitated, 
 when he broke out suddenly: " It's all over ! — St. Clair's defeated! 
 . — routed: the officers nearly all killed, the men by wholesale ; 
 the rout complete; too shocking to think of, and a surprise into the 
 bargain !" AH this was uttered with great vehemence. Then 
 pausing and rising from the sofa, he walked up and down the room 
 in silence, violently agitated, but saying nothing. When near the 
 door he stopped short ; stood still for a few moments, when there 
 was another terrible explosion of wrath. "Yes," exclaimed he. 
 
79I-J *'HE SHALL HAVE JUSTICE!'' 
 
 579 
 
 ^ HERE, on this very spot, I took leave of him; I wished him suc- 
 cess and honor. ' You have your instructions from the Secretary 
 of War,' said I, 'I had a strict eye to them, and will add but one 
 word, BEWARE OF A SURPRISE ! You know how the Indians fight 
 us. I repeat it, beware of a surprise.' He went off with that, 
 my last warning, thrown into his ears. And yet ! ! To suffer that 
 army to be cut to pieces, hacked, butchered, tomahawked, by a 
 surprise— the very thing I guarded him against— O God ! O God!" 
 exclaimed he, throwing up his hands, and while his very frame 
 shook with emotion, " he's worse than a murderer! How can he 
 
 answer it to his country ! The blood of the slain is upon him 
 
 the curse of widows and orphans — the curse of heaven!*' Mr. 
 Lear remained speechless; awed into breathless silence by the 
 appalling tone in which this torrent of invective was poured forth. 
 Tiie paroxysm passed by. Washington again sat down on the sofa 
 — he was silent — apparently uncomfortable, as if conscious of the 
 ungovernable burst of passion which had overcome him. " This 
 must not go beyond this room," said he at length, in a subdued 
 and altered tone — there was another and a longer pause; then, in 
 a tone quite low : "Gen. St. Clair shall have justice," said he. 
 " I looked hastily through the despatches; saw the whole disaster, 
 but not all the particulars. I will receive him without displeasure; 
 I will hear him without prejudice; he shall have full justice." 
 
 In the course of the present session of Congress a bill was intro- 
 duced for apportioning representatives among the people of the 
 several States, according to the first enumeration. The constitu- 
 tion had provided that the number of representatives should not 
 exceed one for every thirty thousand persons, and the House of 
 Representatives passed a bill allotting to each State one member 
 for this amount of population. This ratio would leave a fraction, 
 greater or less, in each State. Its operation was unequal, as in 
 some States a large surplus would be unrepresented, and hence, in 
 one branch of the legislature, the relative power of the State be 
 affected. That, too, was the popular branch, which those who 
 feared a strong executive, desired to provide with the counterpoise 
 of as full a representation as possible. To obviate this difficulty 
 the Senate adopted a new principle of apportionment. They 
 assumed the total population of the United States, and not the 
 population of each State, as the basis on which the whole number 
 of representatives should be ascertained. After an earnest debate, 
 the House concurred, and the bill came before the President for 
 his decision. After maturely deliberating, he made up his mind 
 that the act was unconstitutional. It was the obvious intent of the 
 constitution to apply the ratio of representation according to the 
 separate numbers of each State, and not to the aggregate of the 
 population of the United States. Now this bill allotted to eight of 
 the States more than one representadve for thirty thousand inhab- 
 itants. He accordingly returned the bill with his objections, being 
 the first exercise of the veto power. A new bill was substituted, 
 and passed into a law; giving a representative for every thirty- 
 three thousand to each State. 
 
58o LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Washington had observed with pain the political divisions which 
 were growing up in the country; and was deeply concerned at 
 finding that they were pervading the halls of legislation. The 
 press, too, was contributing its powerful aid to keep up and increase 
 the irritation. Two rival papers existed at the seat of govern- 
 ment ; one was Fenno's Gazette of the United States; the other 
 was the National Gazette, edited by Philip Freneau. Freneau 
 had been editor of the New York Daily Advertiser, but had come 
 to Philadelphia in the autumn of 1791 to occupy the post of trans- 
 lating clerk in Mr. Jefferson*s office, and had almost immedi- 
 ately (Octber 31) published the first number of his Gazette. Not- 
 withstanding his situation in the office of the Secretary of State, 
 Freneau became and continued to be throughout the session, a 
 virulent assailant of most of the measures of government; except- 
 ing such as originated with Mr. Jefferson, or were approved by 
 him. 
 
 Washington longed to be once more master of himself, free to 
 indulge those rural and agricultural tastes which were to give ver- 
 dure and freshness to his future existence. He had some time 
 before this expressed a determination to retire from public life at 
 the end of his presidential term. But one more year of that term 
 remained to be endured ; he was congratulating himself with the 
 thought, when Mr. Jefferson intimated that it was his intention 
 to retire from office at the same time with himself. In his Anas, 
 he assures us that the President remonstrated with him against it, 
 ** in an affectionate tone." For his own part, he observed, many 
 motives compelled him to retire. It was only after much pressing 
 that he had consented to take a part in the new government and 
 get it under way. Were he to continue in it longer, it might give 
 room to say that, having tasted the sweets of office, he could not 
 do without them. He observed, moreover, to Jefferson, that he 
 really felt himself growing old; that his bodily health was less 
 firm, and his memory, always bad, was becoming worse. The 
 other faculties of his mind, perhaps, might be evincing to others a 
 decay of which he himself might be insensible. This apprehen- 
 sion, he said, particularly oppressed him. His activity, too, had 
 declined; business was consequently more irksome, and the long- 
 ing for tranquillity and retirement had become an irresistible pas- 
 sion; yet he should consider it unfortunate if he should bring on 
 the retirement of the great officers of government, which might 
 produce a shock on the public mind of a dangerous consequence. 
 Jefferson, in reply, stated the reluctance with which he himself had 
 entered upon public employment, and the resolution he had formed 
 on accepting his station in the cabinet, to make the resignation of 
 the President the epoch of his own retirement from labors of which 
 he was heartily tired. He did not believe, however, that any of 
 his brethren in the administration had any idea of retiring; on the 
 contrary, he had perceived, at a late meeting of the trus- 
 tees of the sinking fund, that the Secretary of the Treasury 
 had developed the plan he intended to pursue, and that it em- 
 braced years in its views. Washington rejoined, that he consid- 
 
1791] AVERSE TO A SECOND TERM. . 581 
 
 ered the Treasury department a limited one, going only to the sin- 
 gle object of revenue, while that of the Secretary of State, 
 embracing nearly all the objects of administration, was much 
 more important, and the retirement of the officer, therefore, would 
 be more noticed; that though the government had set out with a 
 pretty general good will, yet that symptoms of dissatisfaction had 
 lately shown themselves, far beyond what he could have expected; 
 and to what height these might arise, in case of too great a change 
 in the administration, could not be foreseen. Jefferson availed 
 himself of this opportunity to have a thrust at his political rival. 
 " I told him that in my opinion there was only a single source of 
 these discontents. That a system had been contrived by the 
 Treasury for deluging the States with paper money instead of gold 
 and silver, for withdrawing our citizens from the pursuits of com- 
 merce, manufactures, buildings, and other branches of useful 
 industry, to occupy themselves and their capitals in a species of 
 gambling, destructive to morality, and which had introduced its 
 poison into the government itself." Yet with all this political riv- 
 alry, Jefferson has left on record his appreciation of the sterling 
 merit of Hamilton. In his Anas, he speaks of him as of " acute 
 understanding, disinterested, honest, and honorable in all private 
 transactions; amiable in society, and duly valuing virtue in private 
 life. Yet so bewitched and pervaded by the British example, as to 
 be under thorough conviction that corruption was essential to the 
 government of a nation. ' * He gives a conversation which occurred 
 between Hamilton and Adams, at his (Jefferson's) table, after the 
 cloth was removed. "Conversation," writes he, "began on other 
 matters, and by some circumstance was led to the British constitu- 
 tion, on which Mr. Adams observed, 'purge that constitution of its 
 corruption, and give to its popular branch equality of representa- 
 tion, and it would be the most perfect constitution ever devised by 
 the wit of man.' Hamilton paused and said, 'purge it of its cor- 
 ruption, and give to its popular branch equality of representation, 
 and it would become an impracticable government; as it stands 
 at present, with all its supposed defects, it is the most perfect 
 government which ever existed.' " Washington had, also, con- 
 fidential conversations with Mr. Madison on the subject of his 
 intended retirement from office at the end of the presidential term. 
 Madison remonstrated in the most earnest manner against such a 
 resolution, setting forth, in urgent language, the importance to the 
 country of his continuing in the presidency. Washington listened 
 to his reasoning with profound attention, but still clung to his reso- 
 lution. 
 
 Gen. St. Clair resigned his commission, and was succeeded in 
 his Western command by Gen. Wayne, the mad Anthony of 
 the revolution, still in the vigor of his days, being forty-seven 
 years of age. " He has many good points as an officer," writes 
 Washington, " and it is to be hoped that time, reflection, good 
 advice, and, above all, a due sense of the importance of the trust 
 which is committed to him, will correct his foibles, or cast a shade 
 over them." Washington's first thought was that a decisive expe- 
 
582 . LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 dition conducted by this energetic man of the sword, might 
 retrieve the recent frontier disgrace, and put an end to the perse- 
 vering hostility of the Indians. In deference, however, to the 
 clamors which had been raised against the war and its expenses, 
 and to meet what appeared to be the prevalent wish of the nation, 
 he reluctantly relinquished his more energetic policy, and gave in 
 to that which advised further negotiations for peace ; though he 
 was far from anticipating a beneficial result. In regard to St. 
 Clair, a committee of the House of Representatives ultimately 
 inquired into the cause of the failure of his expedition, and ren- 
 dered a report, in which he was explicitly exculpated. PubHc sen- 
 timent, however, remained for a long time adverse to him; but 
 Washington, satisfied with the explanation which had been given, 
 continued to honor him with his confidence and friendship. 
 
 Congress adjourned on the 8th of May, and soon afterward 
 Washington set off on a short visit to Mount Vernon. The season 
 \\'as in all its beauty, and never had this rallying place of his affec- 
 tions appeared to him more attractive. How could he give up the 
 prospect of a speedy return to its genial pursuits and pleasures 
 from the harassing cares and janglings of public hfe. On the 
 20th of May, he wrote to Mr. Madison on the subject of their late 
 conversation. "I have not been unmindful," says he, "of the 
 sentiments expressed by you. On the contrary, I have again and 
 again revolved them with thoughtful anxiety, but without being 
 able to dispose my mind to a longer continuation in the office 1 
 have now the honor to hold. I therefore, still look forward with 
 the fondest and most ardent wishes to spend the remainder of my 
 days, which I cannot expect to be long, in ease and tranquillity." 
 He requested Mr. Madison's advice as to the proper time and mode 
 for announcing his intention of retiring, and for assistance in pre- 
 paring the announcement. "In revolving this subject myself," 
 writes he, " my judgment has always been embarrassed. On the 
 one hand, a previous declaration to retire, not only carries with it 
 the appearance of vanity and self-importance, but it may be con- 
 strued into a maneuver to be invited to remain; and, on the other 
 hand, to say nothing, implies consent, or, at any rate, would leave 
 the matter in doubt; and to decline afterwards, might be deemed 
 as bad and uncandid. I would fain carry my request to you 
 further; that you would turn your thoughts to a valedictory address 
 from me to the public." He suggested a number of the topics and 
 ideas which the address was to contain; all to be expressed in 
 " plain and modest terms." Madison advised that the notification 
 and address should appear together, and be promulgated through 
 the press in time to pervade every part of the Union by the begin- 
 ning of November. With the letter he sent a draft of the address. 
 " You will readily observe," writes he, "that, in executing it, I have 
 aimed at that plainness and modesty of language, which you had 
 in view, and which, indeed, are so peculiarly becoming the char- 
 acter and occasion; and that I had little more to do as to the mat- 
 ter, than to follow the just and comprehensive outline which you 
 had sketched. I flatter myself, however, that, in everything which 
 
I79I-] JEFFERSON EXTOLS WASHINGTON. 583 
 
 has depended on me, much improvement will be made, before so 
 interesting a paper shall have taken its last form." He expressed 
 a hope that Washington would reconsider his idea of retiring from 
 office, and that the country might not, at so important a conjunct- 
 ure, be deprived of the inestimable advantage of having him at 
 the head of its councils. On the 23d of May, Jefferson also 
 addressed along letter to Washington on the same subject. " When 
 you first mentioned to me your purpose of retiring from the gov- 
 ernment, though I felt all the magnitude of the event, I was in a 
 considerable degree silent. I knew that, to such a mind as yours, 
 persuasion was idle and impertinent; that, before forming your 
 decision, you had weighed all the reasons for and against the 
 measure, had made up your mind in full view of them, and that 
 there could be little hope of changing the result. Pursuing my 
 reflections, too, I knew we were some day to try to walk alone, 
 and, if the essay should be made while you should be alive and 
 looking on, we should derive confidence from that circumstance, 
 and resource if it failed. The public mind, too, was then calm 
 and confident, and therefore in a favorable state for making the 
 experiment. But the public mind is no longer so confident and 
 serene; and that from causes in which you are no ways personally 
 mixed. The confidence of the whole Union is centered 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 or secession. North and South will hang 
 together, if they have you to hang on. I am perfectly aware of 
 the oppression under which your present office lays your mind, 
 and of the ardor with which you pant for retirement to domestic life. 
 But there is sometimes an eminence of character on which society 
 have such peculiar claims, as to control the predilections of the 
 individual for a particular walk of happiness, and restrain him to 
 that alone, arising from the present and future benedictions of 
 mankind. This seems to be your condition, and the law imposed 
 on you by Providence, in forming your character, and fashioning 
 the events on which it was to operate; and it is to motives like 
 these that I appeal from your former determination and urge a 
 revisal of it, on the ground of change in the aspect of things. 
 Should an honest majority result from the new and enlarged repre- 
 sentation, should those acquiesce, whose principles or interests 
 they may control, your wishes for retirement would be gratified 
 with less danger, as soon as that shall be manifest, without await- 
 ing the completion of the second period of four years." 
 
 This letter was not received by Washington until after his return 
 to Philadelphia, and the purport of it was so painful to him, that 
 he deferred from day to day having any conversation with Jeffer- 
 son on the subject. In regard to the suspicions and apprehensions 
 which apparently were haunting Jefferson's mind, Hamilton 
 expressed himself roundly in one of his cabinet papers: "The 
 idea of introducing a monarchy or aristocracy into this country, by 
 employing the influence and force of a government continually 
 changing hands, towards it, is one of those visionary things that 
 
584 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 none but madmen could meditate, and that no wise man -will 
 believe. If it could be done at all, which is utterly incredible, it 
 would require a long series of time, certainly beyond the hfe of 
 any individual, to effect it — who, then, would enter into such a 
 plot? for what purpose of interest or ambition?" 
 
 On the loth of July, Washington had a conversation with Jeffer- 
 son, and endeavored with his usual supervising and moderating 
 assiduity to allay the jealousies and suspicions which were disturb- 
 ing the mind of that ardent politician. There might be desires, he 
 said, among a few in the higher walks of life, particularly in the 
 great cities, to change the form of government into a monarchy, 
 but he did not believe there were any designs ; and he believed the 
 main body of the people in the Eastern States were as steadily for 
 republicanism as in the Southern. He spoke with earnestness 
 about articles in the pubhc papers, especially in the Gazette edited 
 by Freneau, the object of which seemed to be to excite opposition 
 to the government, and which had actually excited it in Pennsyl- 
 vania, in regard to the excise law. "These articles," said he, feel- 
 ingly, " tend to produce a separation of the Union, the most dread- 
 ful of calamities ; and whatever tends to produce anarchy, tends, 
 of course, to produce a resort to monarchial government. In 
 condemning the administration of the government, they condemned 
 me, for, if they thought these were measures pursued contrary to 
 my sentiments, they must conceive me too careless to attend to 
 them or too stupid to understand them." 
 
 Hamilton was equally strenuous in urging upon Washington the 
 policy of reelection, as it regarded the public good, and wrote to 
 him fully on the subject. It was the opinion of every one, he 
 alleged, with whom he had conversed, that the affairs of the 
 national government were not yet firmly established ; that the 
 period of the next House of Representatives was likely to prove 
 the crisis of its national character ; that if W^ashington con- 
 tinued in office, nothing materially mischievous was to be appre- 
 hended; but, if he should quit, much was to be dreaded; that, in- 
 deed, it would have been better as it regarded his own character, 
 that he had never consented to come forward, than now to leave 
 the business unfinished and in danger of being undone; that in the 
 event of storms arising, there would be an imputation either of 
 want of foresight or want of firmness; and, in fine, that on public 
 and personal accounts, on patriotic and prudential considerations, 
 the clear path to be pursued by him would be again to obey the 
 voice of his country ; which, it was not doubted, would be as 
 earnest and unanimous as ever. Mr. Edmund Randolph also, 
 after a long letter on the " jeopardy of the Union," which seemed 
 to him "at the eve of a crisis," adds : " The fuel which has been 
 already gathered for combustion wants no addition. But how 
 awfully might it be increased, were the violence, which is now 
 suspended by a universal submission to your pretensions, let loose 
 by your resignation. The constitution would never have been 
 adopted but from a knowledge that you had sanctioned it, and an 
 expectation that you would execute it. It is the fixed opinion of 
 
1792.] POLITICAL FEUDS DEPRECATED, 585 
 
 the world, that you should surrender nothing incomplete." All 
 parties, however discordant in other points, concurred in a desire 
 that Washington should continue in office — so truly was he regarded 
 as the choice of the nation. — Washington in a letter to Jefferson 
 (August 23d), on the subject of Indian hostilities, observes : " How 
 unfortunate, and how much to be regretted that, while we are en- 
 compassed on all sides with armed enemies and insidious friends, 
 internal dissension should be harrowing and tearing our vitals. 
 The latter, to me, is the most serious, the most alarming and the 
 most afflicting of the two; and without more charity for the opin- 
 ions and acts of one another in governmental matters, I believe it 
 will be difficult, if not impracticable, to manage the reins of gov- 
 ernment, or to keep the parts of it together; for if, instead of lay- 
 ing our shoulders to the machine after measures are decided on, 
 one pulls this way and another that, it must inevitably be torn 
 asunder; and, in my opinion, the fairest prospect of happiness and 
 prosperity that ever was presented to man, will be lost perhaps for- 
 ever. Admonitions to the same purport were addressed by him to 
 Hamilton : "I would fain hope that liberal allowances will be made 
 for the political opinions of each other; and, instead of those 
 wounding suspicions and irritating charges, with which some of 
 our gazettes are so strongly impregnated, and which cannot fail, 
 if persevered in, of pushing matters to extremity, and thereby 
 tearing the machine asunder, that there may be mutual forbear- 
 ance on all sides. Without these I do not see how the reins of 
 government are to be managed, or how the Union of the State can 
 be much longer preserved." Hamilton was prompt and affection- 
 ate in his reply : "I pledge my hand to you, sir, that, if you shall 
 hereafter form a plan to reiinite the members of your administra- 
 tion upon some steady principle of cooperation, I will faithfully 
 concur in executing it during my continuance in office. And I 
 will not, directly or indirectly, say or do a thing that shall en- 
 danger a feud." Jefferson, too, assured Washington that to no 
 one had the dissensions of the cabinet given deeper concern than 
 to himself — to no one equal mortification at being himself a part of 
 them. 
 
 Washington's solicitude for harmony in his cabinet had been ren- 
 dered more anxious by public disturbances in some parts of the 
 country. The excise law on ardent spirits distilled within the 
 United States, had, from the time of its enactment by Congress in 
 1 791, met with opposition from the inhabitants of the Western 
 counties of Pennsylvania. It had been modified and rendered less 
 offensive within the present year; but the hostility to it had con- 
 tinued. Combinations were formed to defeat the execution of it^ 
 and the revenue officers were riotously opposed in the execution 
 of their duties. Washington, on the 15th of September, issued a 
 proclamation, warning all persons to desist from such unlawful 
 combinations and proceedings, and requiring all courts, magis- 
 trates, and officers to bring the infractors of the law to justice; 
 copies of which proclamation were sent to the governors of Penn- 
 sylvania and North and South Carolina. 
 
586 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 It was after a long and painful conflict of feelings that Washing- 
 ton consented. to be a candidate for a reelection. There was no 
 opposition on the part of the public, and the vote for him in the 
 Electoral College was unanimous. In a letter to a friend, he de- 
 clared himself gratefully impressed by so distinguished and honora- 
 ble a testimony of public approbation and confidence. George 
 Clinton, of New York, was held up for the Vice-presidency, in op- 
 position to John Adams; but the latter was reelected by a majority 
 of twenty-seven electoral votes. But though gratified to find that 
 the hearts of his countrymen were still with him, it was with no 
 emotion of pleasure that Washington looked forward to another 
 term of public duty, and a prolonged absence from the quiet retire- 
 ment of Mount Vernon. Congress opened on the fifth of Novem- 
 ber. The continuance of the Indian war formed a painful topic in 
 the President's address. Efforts at pacification had as yet been 
 unsuccessful: two brave officers, Col. Hardin and Major Trueman, 
 who had been sent to negotiate with the savages, had been mur- 
 dered. Vigorous preparations were therefore making for an active 
 prosecution of hostilities, in which Wayne was to take the field. 
 Washington, with benevolent earnestness, dwelt upon the humane 
 system of civilizing the tribes, by inculcating agricultural tastes 
 and habits. The factions and turbulent opposition which had been 
 made in some parts of the country to the collection of duties on 
 spirituous liquors distilled in the United States, was likewise ad- 
 verted to by the President, and a determination expressed to assert 
 and maintain the just authority of the laws. He expressed a 
 strong hope that the state of the national finances was now suffi- 
 ciently matured to admit of an arrangement for the redemption 
 and discharge of the public debt. "No measure," said he, "can 
 be more desirable, whether viewed with an eye to its intrinsic im- 
 portance, or to the general sentiment and wish of the nation." The 
 address was well received by both houses, and a disposition ex- 
 pressed to concur with the President's views and wishes. The 
 Secretary of the Treasury, in reporting, at the request of the 
 House, a plan for the annual reduction of so much of the national 
 debt as the United States had a right to redeem, spoke of the ex- 
 penses of the Indian war, and the necessity of additional internal 
 taxes. This gave an opportunity for sternly criticising the mode 
 in which the Indian war had been conducted; for discussing the 
 comparative merits and cost of regular and militia forces, and for 
 inveighing against standing armies, as dangerous to liberty. The 
 veneration inspired by the character of Washington, and the per- 
 suasion that he would never permit himself to be considered the 
 head of a party, had hitherto shielded him from attack ; a little 
 circumstance, however, showed that the rancor of party was begin- 
 ning to glance at him. On his birthday (February 22) many of 
 the members of Congress were desirous of waiting on him in testi- 
 mony of respect as chief magistrate of the Union, and a motion 
 was made to adjourn for half an hour for the purpose. It met with 
 serious opposition as a species of homage — it was setting up an 
 idol dangerous to liberty — it had a bias towards monarchy ! 
 
I793-] REIGN OF TERROR IN FRANCE. 587 
 
 Washington, though he never courted popularity, was attentive 
 to the signs of pubUc opinion, and disposed to be guided by them 
 when right. The time for entering upon his second term of Presi- 
 dency was at hand. There had been much cavilling at the parade 
 attending his first installation. Jefferson especially had pro- 
 nounced it "not at all in character with simplicity of repubhcan 
 government." At Washington's request, the heads of depart- 
 ments held a consultation, and gave their individual opinions in 
 writing, with regard to the time, manner, and place of the Presi- 
 dent's taking the oath of office. As they gave no positive advice 
 as to any change, no change was made. On the 4th of March, 
 the oath was publicly administered to Washington by Mr. Justice 
 Gushing, in the Senate Chamber, in presence of the heads of de- 
 partments, foreign ministers, members of the House of Representa- 
 tives, and many spectators. 
 
 Early in 1793, Gouverneur Morris had received the appointment 
 of minister plenipotentiary to the French Gourt. His diplomatic 
 correspondence from Paris gave shocking accounts of the excesses 
 attending the revolution. France was governed by Jacobin 
 clubs. Lafayette, by endeavoring to check their excesses, had 
 completely lost his authority. "Were he to appear just now in 
 Paris, unattended by his army," writes Morris, "he would be 
 torn to pieces." Washington received these accounts with deep 
 concern. What was to be the fate of that distracted country — 
 what was to be the fate of his friend ! His forebodings were 
 soon verified. On the 20th of June bands from the Faubourg 
 St. Antoine, armed with pikes, and headed by Santerre, marched 
 to the Tuileries, insulted the king in the presence of his family, 
 obHging him to put on the bonnet rouge, the baleful cap of lib- 
 erty of the revolution. Lafayette, still loyal to his sovereign, 
 hastened to Paris, appeared at the bar of the Assembly, and de- 
 manded, in the name of the army, the punishment of those who 
 had thus violated the constitution, by insulting in his palace, the 
 chief of the executive power. His intervention proved of no 
 avail, and he returned with a sad and foreboding heart to his 
 army. On the 9th of August, Paris was startled by the sound 
 of the fatal tocsin at midnight. On the loth the chateau of the 
 Tuileries was attacked, and the Swiss guard who defended it, 
 were massacred. The king and queen took refuge in the Na- 
 tional Assembly, which body decreed the suspension of the 
 king's authority. It was at once the overthrow of the monarchy, 
 the annihilation of the constitutional party, and the commence- 
 ment of the reign of terror. Lafayette, who was the head of the 
 constitutionalists, was involved in their downfall. The Jacobins 
 denounced him in the National Assembly; his arrest was decreed, 
 and emissaries were sent to carry the decree into effect. Leav- 
 ing everything in order in his army, which remained encamped 
 at Sedan, he set off with a few trusty friends for the Nether- 
 lands, to seek an asylum in Holland or the United States, but, 
 with his companions, was detained a prisoner at Rochefort, the 
 first Austrian post. The reign of terror continued. "We have 
 
588 LIFE OF WASHING TON, 
 
 had one week of unchecked murders, in which some thousands 
 have perished in this city," writes Morris to Jefferson on the 
 loth of September. " It began with between two and three 
 hundred of the clergy, who had been shot because they would not 
 take the oaths precribed by the law, and which they said, were con- 
 trary to their conscience." Thence these executors of speedy 
 justice went on xS\Q.abbaye where persons w'ere confined who were 
 at court on the loth of August. These were despatched also, and 
 afterwards they visited the other prisons. "All those who were 
 confined either on the accusation or suspicion of crimes, were 
 destroyed." The accounts of these massacres grieved Mr. Jeffer- 
 son. They were shocking in themselves, and he feared they might 
 bring great discredit upon the Jacobins of France, whom be con- 
 sidered republican patriots, bent on the establishment of a free con- 
 stitution. In a letter to Mr. Short, he wrote: " The liberty of the 
 whole earth was depending on the issue of the contest, and was 
 ever such a prize won with so little innocent blood ? My own 
 affections have been deeply wounded by some of the martyrs to 
 this cause, but rather than it should have failed, I would have seen 
 half the earth desolated; were there but an Adam and Eve left in 
 every country, and left free, it would be better than as it now is." 
 Washington wrote to the Marchioness Lafayette : " If I had words 
 that could convey to you an adequate idea of my feelings on the 
 present situation of the Marquis Lafayette, this letter would appear 
 lo you in a different garb. The sole object in writing to you now, 
 is to inform you that I have deposited in the hands of Mr. Nicho- 
 las Van Staphorst of Amsterdam, two thousand three hundred and 
 ten guilders, Holland currency, equal to two hundred guineas, sub- 
 ject to your orders." Madame de Lafayette was at that time a 
 prisoner in France, in painful ignorance of her husband's fate. 
 She had been commanded by the Jacobin committee to repair to 
 Paris about the time of the massacres, but was subsequently per- 
 mitted to reside at Chavaniac, under the surveillance of the mu- 
 nicipality. Afterwards, finding her husband was a prisoner in 
 Austria, she obtained permission to leave France, and ultimately, 
 with her two daughters, joined him in his prison at Olmutz. " His 
 son, George Washington Lafayette, determined to seek an asylum 
 in America. In the meantime, the armies of revoludonary France 
 were crowned with great success. "Towns fall before them with- 
 out a blow," writes Gouverneur Morris, "and the declaration of 
 rights produces an effect equal at least to the trumpets of Joshua." 
 l^ut Morris was far from drawing a favorable augury from this 
 success. " We must observe the civil, moral, religious, and polit- 
 ical institutions," said he. " These have a steady and lasting 
 effect, and these only. Since I have been in this country, I have 
 seen the worship of many idols, and but little of the true God. I 
 have seen many of those idols broken, and some of them beaten 
 to dust. I have seen the late constitution, in one short year, ad- 
 mired as a stupendous monument of human wisdom, and ridi- 
 culed as an egregious production of folly and vice. I wish much, 
 very much, the happiness of this inconstant people. I love them. 
 
1793.] U'ASHIAG TON'S SECOND TERM. 589 
 
 I feel grateful for their efforts in our cause, and I consider the 
 estabhshment of a good constitution here as the principal means, 
 under Divine Providence, of extending the blessings of freedom 
 to the many millions of my fellow-men, who groan in bondage on 
 the continent of Europe. But 1 do not greatly indulge the flatter- 
 ing illusions of hope, because I do not perceive that reformation of 
 morals, without which, hberty is but an empty sound." 
 
 It was under gloomy auspices, a divided cabinet, an increasing 
 exasperation of parties, a suspicion of monarchical tendencies, 
 and a threatened abatement of popularity, that Washington en- 
 tered upon his second term of presidency. It was a portentous 
 period in the history of the world, for in a little while came news 
 of that tragical event, the beheading of Louis XVI. It was an 
 event deplored by the truest advocates of liberty in America, who, 
 like Washington, remembered that unfortunate monarch as the 
 friend of their country in her revolutionary struggle ; but others, 
 zealots in the cause of pohtical reform, considered it with com* 
 placency, as sealing the downfall of the French monarchy and the 
 establishment of a republic. Early in April intelligence was re- 
 ceived that France had declared war against England. Popular 
 excitement was now wound up to the highest pitch. Many, in the 
 wild enthusiasm of the moment, would at once have precipitated 
 the country into a war. This belligerent impulse was checked by 
 the calm, controlling wisdom of Washington. He was at Mount 
 Vernon when he received news of the war. Hastening back to 
 Philadelphia, he held a cabinet council on the 19th of April. It 
 was unanimously determined that a proclamation should be issued 
 by the President, "forbidding the citizens of the United States to 
 take part in any hostilities on the seas, and warning them against 
 carrying to the belligerents any articles deemed contraband accord- 
 ing to the modern usuages of nations, and forbidding all acts and 
 proceedings inconsistent with the duties of a friendly nation 
 towards those at war." No one at the present day questions the 
 wisdom of Washington's proclamation of neutrality. The meas- 
 ure, however, was at variance with the enthusiastic feelings and 
 excited passions of a large proportion of the citizens. They 
 treated it for a time with some forbearance, out of long-cherished 
 reverence for Washington's name; but his popularity, hitherto 
 unlimited, was no proof against the inflamed state of public feeling. 
 The- proclamation was stigmatized as a royal edict; a daring as- 
 sumption of power ; an open manifestation of partiality for Eng- 
 land and hostility to France. The French republic had recently 
 appointed Edmond Charles Genet, or " Citizen Genet," as he was 
 styled, minister to the United States. He had sei-ved in the bureau 
 of Foreign Affairs under the ministry of Vergennes, and had been 
 employed in various diplomatic situations until the overthrow of 
 the monarchy, when he joined the popular party, became a politi- 
 cal zealot, and member of the Jacobin club, and was rewarded 
 with the mission to America. A letter from Gouvemeur Morris 
 apprised Mr. Jefferson that the Executive Council had furnished 
 Genet with three hundred blank commissions for privateers, to be 
 
590 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 given clandestinely to such persons as he might find in America 
 inclined to take them. Genet landed at Charleston, South Carolina, 
 from the French frigate the Ambuscade, on the 8th of April, a 
 short time before the proclamation, of neutrality, and was re- 
 ceived with great rejoicing and extravagant demonstrations of 
 respect. His landing at a port several hundred miles from the 
 seat of government, was a singular move for a diplomat. It is 
 usual for a foreign minister to present his credentials to the gov- 
 ernment to v/hich he comes, and be received by it in form before 
 he presumes to enter upon the exercise of his functions. Citizen 
 Genet, however, did not stop for these formalities. Confident in 
 his nature, heated in his zeal, and flushed Avith the popular warmth 
 of his reception, he could not pause to consider the proprieties of 
 his mission and the delicate responsibilities involved in diplomacy. 
 The contiguity of Charleston to the West Indies made it a favor- 
 able port for fitting out privateers against the trade of these islands ; 
 and during Genet's short sojourn there he issued commissions for 
 arming and equipping vessels of war for that purpose, and man- 
 ning them with Americans. In the latter part of April, he set out 
 for the north by land. As he proceeded on his journey, the news- 
 papers teemed with accounts of the processions and addresses 
 with which he was greeted, and the festivities which celebrated his 
 arrival at each place. On the i6th of May, he arrived at Phila- 
 delphia. His belligerent operations at Charleston had already 
 been made a subject of complaint to the government by Mr. Ham- 
 mond, the British minister ; but they produced no abatement in 
 the public enthusiasm. On the 17th, various societies and a large 
 body of citizens waited upon him with addresses, recalling with grati- 
 tude the aid given by France in the achievement of American In- 
 dependence, and extolling and rejoicing in the success of the arms 
 of the French republic. On the same day, he was invited to a 
 grand republican dinner, "at which," we are told, "the com- 
 pany united in singing the Marseilles Hymn. A deputation of 
 French sailors were received by the guests with the 'fraternal em- 
 brace.' The table was decorated with the 'tree of liberty'; the 
 red cap of liberty was placed on the head of the minister, and 
 from his travelled in succession from head to head round the 
 table. ' ' This enthusiasm of the multitude was regarded with indul- 
 gence, if not favor, by Jefferson, as being the effervescence of the 
 true spirit of liberty ; but was deprecated by Hamilton as an infat- 
 uation that might "do us much harm, and could do France no 
 good," Washington, from his elevated and responsible situation, 
 endeavored to look beyond the popular excitement, and regard 
 the affairs of France with a dispassionate and impartial eye, but 
 he confessed that he saw in the turn they had lately taken the 
 probability of a terrible confusion, to which he could predict no 
 certain issue: a boundless ocean whence no land was to be seen. 
 He feared less, he said, for the cause of liberty in France from 
 the pressure of foreign enemies, than from the strifes and quarrels 
 of those in whose hands the government was intrusted, who were 
 
1793-] "iHE DUTY OF NEUTRALS. 591 
 
 ready to tear each other to pieces, and would most probably prove 
 the worst foes the country had. 
 
 On the 1 8th of May, Genet presented his letter of credence to the 
 President; who took the occasion to express his sincere regard for 
 the French nation. Genet's acts at Charleston, had not been the 
 sole ground of the complaint preferred by the British minister. 
 The capture of a British vessel, the Grange, by the French frigate 
 Ambuscade, formed a graver one. Occurring within our waters, 
 it was a clear usurpation of national sovereignty, and a violation 
 of neutral rights. The British minister demanded a restitution 
 of the prize, and the cabinet was unanimously of opinion that resti- 
 tution should be made; but restitution was likewise claimed of 
 other vessels captured on the high seas, and brought into port by 
 the privateers authorized by Genet. Hamilton and Knox were of 
 opinion that the government should interpose to restore the prizes; 
 it being the duty of a neutral nation to remedy any injury sustained 
 by armaments fitted out in its ports. Jefferson and Randolph con- 
 tended that the case should be left to the decision of the courts of 
 justice. If the courts adjudged the commissions issued by Genet 
 to be invalid, they would, of course, decide the captures made 
 under them to be void, and the property to remain in the original 
 owners; if, on the other hand, the legal right to the property had 
 been transferred to the captors, they would so decide. Seeing 
 this difference of opinion in the cabinet, Washington reserved the 
 point for further deliberation; but directed the Secretary of State 
 to communicate to the ministers of France and Britain, the prin- 
 ciples in which they concurred; these being considered as settled. 
 Genet took umbrage at these decisions of the government, com- 
 plaining of them as violations of natural right, and subversive of 
 the existing treaties between the two nations. He was informed 
 that in the opinion of the executive, the vessels which had been 
 illegally equipped, should depart from the ports of the United 
 States. Washington was very much harried and perplexed by the 
 "disputes, memorials, and what not," with which he was pestered. 
 by one or other of the powers at war. It was a sore trial of his 
 equanimity, his impartiality, and his discrimination, and wore 
 upon his spirits and his health. "The President is not well," 
 writes Jefferson to Madison (June 9th); "little lingering fevers 
 have been hanging about him for a week or ten days, and affected 
 his looks most remarkably. He is also extremely affected by the 
 attacks made and kept up on him, in the public papers. I think 
 he feels these things more than any other person I ever yet met 
 with. I am sincerely sorry to see them." Washington might 
 well feel sensitive to these attacks, which Jefferson acknowledges 
 were the more mischievous, from being planted on popular ground, 
 on the universal love of the people to France and its cause. But 
 he was not to be deterred by personal considerations, from the 
 strict line of his duty. In withstanding the pubhc infatuation in 
 regard to France, he put an unparalleled popularity at hazard, 
 without hesitation; and, in so doing, set a magnanimous example 
 for his successors in office to endeavor to follow. 
 
592 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 The latter part of July, Washington was suddenly called to Mount 
 Vernon by the death of Mr. Whiting, the manager of his estates. 
 During his brief absence from the seat of government, occurred 
 the case of the Little Sarah. This was a British merchant ves- 
 sel which had been captured by a French privateer, and brought 
 into Philadelphia, where she had been armed and equipped for 
 privateering; manned with 120 men, many of them Americans, 
 and the name changed into that of Le Petit Deviocrat. This, of 
 course, was in violation of Washington's decision, which had been 
 communicated to Genet. Gen. Mifflin, now Governor of Pennsyl- 
 vania, being informed, on the 6th of July, that the vessel was to 
 sail the next day, sent his secretary, Mr. Dallas, at midnight to 
 Genet, to persuade him to detain her until the President should 
 arrive, intimating that otherwise force would be used to prevent 
 her departure. Genet flew into one of the transports of passion to 
 which he was prone; contrasted the treatment experienced by him 
 from the officers of government, with the attachment to his nation 
 professed by the people at large; and threatened to repel force by 
 force, should an attempt be made to seize the privateers. Mr. 
 Jefferson, on the 7th of July, in an interview with Genet, repeated 
 the request that the privateer be detained until the arrival of the 
 President. Genet instantly took up the subject in a very high 
 tone, and went into an immense field of declamation and com- 
 plaint. Jefferson made a few efforts to be heard, but, finding them 
 ineffectual, suffered the torrent of vituperation to pour on. Genet 
 censured the executive for the measures it had taken without con- 
 sulting Congress, and declared, that, on the President's return, he 
 would certainly press him to convene that body. " I stopped him," 
 writes Jefferson, *' at the subject of calling Congress; explained our 
 constitution to him as having divided the functions of government 
 among three different authorities, the executive, legislative, and 
 judiciary, each of which were supreme on all questions belonging 
 to their department, and independent of the ethers; that all the 
 questions which had arisen between him and us, belonged to the 
 executive department, and, if Congress were sitting, could not be 
 carried to them, nor would they take notice of them." Genet 
 asked with surprise, if Congress were not the sovereign. " No," 
 replied Jefferson. "They are sovereign only in making laws; the 
 executive is the sovereign in executing them, and the judiciary in 
 construing them, where they relate to that department." "But 
 at least," cried Genet, "Congress are bound to see that the treaties 
 are observed." "No," rejoined Jefferson, "There are very few 
 cases, indeed, arising out of treaties, which they can take notice 
 of. The President is to see that treaties are observed." "If he 
 decides against the treaty," demanded Genet, "to whom is a 
 nation to appeal?" "The constitution," replied Jefferson, "has 
 made the President the last appeal." Genet, perfectly taken 
 aback ?X finding his own ignorance in the matter, shrugged his 
 shoulders, made a bow, and said, "he would not compliment Mr. 
 Jefferson on such a constitution ! " He had now subsided into 
 coolness and good humor, and the subject of the Little Sarah 
 
1793. J RESOLUTE FOR NEUTRALITY, 593 
 
 being resumed, Jefferson pressed her detention until the President's 
 return; intimating that her previous departure would be considered 
 a very serious offence. Genet made no promise, but expressed 
 himself very happy to be able to inform Mr. Jefferson that the ves- 
 sel was not in a state of readiness; she had to change her position 
 that day, he said, and fall down the river, somewhere about the 
 lower end of the town, for the convenience of taking some things 
 on board, and would not depart yet. Washington arrived at 
 Philadelphia on the ilth of July. No immediate measures of a 
 coercive nature were taken with regard to the Little Sarah; but, 
 in a cabinet council held the next day, it was determined to detain 
 in port all privateers which had been equipped within the United 
 States by any of the belligerent powers. No time was lost in com- 
 municating this determination to Genet; but, in defiance of it, the 
 vessel sailed on her cruise. 
 
 About this time a society was formed under the auspices of the 
 French minister, and in imitation of the Jacobin clubs of Paris. It 
 was called the Democratic Society, and soon gave rise to others 
 throughout the Union; all taking the French ^side in the present 
 questions. The term democrat, thenceforward, began to designate 
 an ultra-republican.— Fresh mortifications awaited Washington, 
 from the distempered state of pubUc sentiment. The trial came 
 on of Gideon Henfield, an American citizen, prosecuted under the 
 advice of the Attorney General, for having enhsted, at Charleston, 
 on board of a French privateer which had brought prizes into the 
 port of Philadelphia. The populace took part with Henfield. He 
 had enlisted before the proclamation of neutrafity had been pub- 
 lished, and even if he had enlisted at a later date, was he to be 
 punished for engaging with their ancient ally, France, in the cause 
 of liberty against the royal despots of Europe ? His acquittal ex- 
 posed Washington to the obloquy of having attempted a measure 
 which the laws would not justify. It showed him, moreover, the 
 futiUty of attempts at punishment for infractions of the rules pro- 
 claimed for the preservation of neutrality. Nothing, however, 
 could induce him to swerve from that policy. Hitherto he had ex- 
 ercised great forbearance toward the French minister, notwith- 
 standing the little respect shown by the latter to the rights of the 
 United States; but the official communications of Genet were be- 
 coming too offensive and insulting to be longer tolerated. Meet- 
 ings of the heads of departments and the Attorney General were 
 held at the President's on the ist and 2d of August, in which the 
 whole of the official correspondence and conduct of Genet was 
 passed in review; and it was agreed that his recall should be 
 desired. 
 
 Washington was threatened with the cabinet's dissolution. Mr, 
 Hamilton had informed him by letter, that private as well as public 
 reasons had determined him to retire from office towards the close 
 of the next session. Now came a letter from Mr. Jefferson, dated 
 July 31st,. in which he recalled the circumstances which had 
 induced him to postpone for a while his original intention of retir- 
 ing from office at the close of the first four years of the republic. 
 
594 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 These circumstances, he observed, had now ceased to such a 
 degree as to leave him free to think again of a day on which to 
 withdraw ; "at the close, therefore, of the ensuing month of Sep- 
 tember, I shall beg leave to retire to scenes of greater tranquiUity, 
 from those for which I am every day more and more convinced 
 that neither my talents, tone of mind, nor time of life fit me." 
 Washington called upon Jefferson at his country residence near 
 Philadelphia ; pictured his deep distress at finding himself in the pres- 
 ent perplexing juncture of aftairs, about to be deserted by those of 
 his cabinet on whose counsel he had counted, and whose places 
 he knew not where to find persons competent to supply ; and, 
 in his chagrin, again expressed his repentance that he himself had 
 not resigned as he had once meditated. A new Congress was to 
 assemble, more numerous than the last, perhaps of a different 
 spirit ; the first expressions of its sentiments would be important, 
 and it would relieve him considerably if Jefferson would remain in 
 office, if it were only until the end of the season. Jefferson, in 
 reply, pleaded an excessive repugnance to public life ; and that 
 the opposition of views between Mr. Hamilton and himself was 
 peculiarly unpleasant, and destructive of the necessary harmony. 
 With regard to the republican party he was sure it had not a view 
 which went to the frame of the government ; he believed the next 
 Congress would attempt nothing material but to render their own 
 body independent. Washington replied, that he believed the 
 views of the republican party to be perfectly pure : " but when men 
 put a machine into motion," said he, " it is impossible for them to 
 say where it will stop. The constitution we have is an excellent one, 
 if we can keep it where it is." He adverted to Jefferson's constant 
 suspicion that there was a party disposed to change the constitution 
 into a monarchical form, declaring that there was not a man in the 
 United States who would set his face more decidedly against such 
 a change than himself; and added : " The republican spirit of the 
 Union is so manifest and so solid that it is astonishing how any one 
 can expect to move it." He had the highest opinion of Jef- 
 ferson's abilities, his knowledge of foreign affairs, his thorough 
 patriotism ; and it was his earnest desire to retain him in his cabinet 
 through the whole of the ensuing session of Congress. A com- 
 promise was eventually made, according to which Jefferson was to 
 be allowed a temporary absence in the autumn, and on his return 
 was to continue in office until January. 
 
 In the mean time Genet had proceeded to New York, which very 
 excitable city was just then in a great agitation. The frigate Am- 
 buscade, while anchored in the harbor, had been challenged to 
 single combat by the British frigate Boston, Capt. Courtney, which 
 was cruising off the Hook. The challenge was accepted ; a severe 
 action ensued ; Courtney was killed ; and the Boston, much dam- 
 aged, was obliged to stand for Halifax. The Ambuscade returned 
 triumphant to New York, and entered the port amid the enthusi- 
 astic cheers of the populace. On the same day, a French fleet of 
 fifteen Si il arrived from the Chesapeake and anchored in the Hud- 
 son river. The officers and crews were objects of unbounded favor 
 
I793-] GENETS RECALL REQUESTED. 595 
 
 with all who inclined to the French cause. Bompard, the com- 
 mander of the Ambuscade, was the hero of the day. Tri-colored 
 cockades, and tri-colored ribbons were to be seen on every side, 
 and rude attemps to chant the Marseilles Hymn and the Carmag- 
 nole resounded through the streets. In the midst of this excite- 
 ment, the ringing of the bells and the firing of cannon announced 
 that Citizen Genet was arrived at Powles Hook Ferry, directly 
 opposite the city. There was an immediate assemblage of the 
 republican party in the fields now called the Park. A committee 
 was appointed to escort Genet into the city. He entered it amid the 
 almost frantic cheerings of the populace. " The cause of France 
 is the cause of America," cried the enthusiasts, " it is time to dis- 
 tinguish its friends from its foes." The tri-colored cockade figured 
 in the iTats of the shouting multitude ; tri-colored ribbons fluttered 
 from the dresses of females in the windows ; the French flag was 
 hoisted on the top of the Tontine Coffee House (the City Ex- 
 change), surmounted by the cap of liberty. Can we wonder that 
 what little discretion Genet possessed, was completely overborne 
 by this tide of seeming popularity ? In the midst of his self-gratu- 
 lation and complacency, however, he received a letter from Jeffer- 
 son (Sept. 15th), acquainting him with the measures taken to pro- 
 cure his recall, and inclosing a copy of the letter written for that 
 purpose to the American minister at Paris. Meantime out of 
 anxious regard lest the interests of France might suffer, the 
 Executive would admit the continuance of his functions so long as 
 they should be restrained within the law, and should be of the 
 tenor usually observed towards independent nations, by the repre- 
 sentative of a friendly power residing with them. Genet resented 
 the part Mr. Jefferson had taken, notwithstanding their cordial inti- 
 macy, in the present matter, although this part had merely been 
 the discharge of an official duty. " Whatever, Sir," writes Genet, 
 "may be the result of the exploit of which you have rendered 
 yourself the generous instrument, after having made me beheve 
 that you were my friend, after having initiated me in the mysteries 
 which have influenced my hatred against all those who aspire to 
 absolute power, there is an act of justice which the American 
 people, which the French people, which all free people are inter- 
 ested in demanding ; it is, that a particular inquiry should be made, 
 ia the approaching Congress, into the motives which have induced 
 the chief of the executive power of the United States to take upon 
 himself to demand the recall of a pubhc minister, whom the sover- 
 eign people of the United States had received fraternally and 
 recognized, before the diplomatic forms had been fulfilled in respect 
 to him at Philadelphia." Unfortunately for Genet's ephemeral 
 popularity, a rumor got abroad that he had expressed a determina- 
 tion to appeal from the President to the people. This at first was 
 contradicted, but was ultmately, estabhshed by a certificate of Chief 
 Justice Jay and Mr. Rufus King, of the United States Senate, which 
 was pubhshed in the papers. The spirit of audacity thus mani- 
 fested by a foreign minister shocked the national pride. Meetings 
 were held in every part of the Union to express the public feeling 
 
596 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 in the matter. In these meetings the proclamation of neutrality 
 and the system of measures flowing from it, were sustained, partly 
 from a conviction of their wisdom and justice, but more from an 
 undiminished affection for the person and character of Washing- 
 ton ; for many who did not espouse his views, were ready to sup- 
 port him in the exercise of his constitutional functions. 
 
 The neutrality of the United States, so jealously guarded by 
 Washington, was also put to imminent hazard by ill-advised 
 measures of the British cabinet. There was such a scarcity in 
 P' ranee, in consequence of the failure of the crops, that a famine 
 vas apprehended. England, availing herself of her naval ascen- 
 dency, determined to increase the distress of her rival by cutting 
 off all her supplies from abroad. In June, 1793, therefore, her 
 cruisers were instructed to detain all vessels bound to France with 
 cargoes of corn, flour, or meal, take them into port, unload them, 
 purchase the cargoes, make a proper allowance for the freight, and 
 then release the vessels ; or to allow the masters of them, on a 
 stipulated security, to dispose of their cargoes in a port in amity 
 vith England. This measure gave umbrage to all parties in the 
 United States, and brought out an earnest remonstrance from the 
 government, as being a violation of the law of neutrals. Another 
 grievance which helped to swell the tide of resentment against 
 Cireat Britain, was the frequent impressment of American seamen, 
 a wrong to which they were particularly exposed from national 
 similarity. To these may be added her persistence in holding the 
 posts to the south of the lakes, which, according to treaty stipula- 
 tions, ought to have been given up. Washington did not feel him- 
 self in a position to press our rights under the treaty, with the 
 vigorous hand that some would urge ; questions having risen in 
 some of the State courts, to obstruct the fulfillment of our part of 
 it, which regarded the payment of British debts contracted before 
 the war. 
 
 Congress assembled on the 2d of Dec, (1793). Washington, in 
 his opening speech, after expressing his deep and respectful sense 
 of the renewed testimony of public approbation manifested in his 
 reelection, proceeded to state the measures he had taken, in con- 
 sequence of the war in Europe, to protect the rights and interests 
 of the United States, and maintain peaceful relations with the 
 belligerent parties. Still he pressed upon Congress the necessity 
 of placing the country in a condition of complete defence. " There 
 is a rank due to the United States among nations, which will be 
 withheld, if not absolutely lost, by the reputation of weakness. If 
 we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it ; if we desire 
 to secure peace — one of the most powerful instruments of our pros- 
 perity — it must be known that we are, at all times, ready for war." 
 In the spirit of these remarks, he urged measures to increase the 
 amount of arms and ammunition in the arsenals, and to improve 
 the militia establishment. One part of his speech conveyed an 
 impressive admonition to the House of Representatives : **N<5 
 pecuniary consideration is more urgent than the regular redemp- 
 
I793-] JEFFERSON ON FOREIGN TRADE, 597 
 
 tion and discharge of the pubHc debt; in none can delay be more 
 injurious, or an economy of time more valuable." 
 
 In a message to both Houses, on the 5th of Dec, concerning 
 foreign relations, Washington spoke feelingly with regard to those 
 with the representative and executive bodies of France: " It is 
 with extreme concern I have to inform you that the proceedings of 
 the person whom they have unfortunately appointed their minister 
 plenipotentiary here, have breathed nothing of the friendly spirit 
 of the nation which sent him; their tendency, on the contrary, has 
 been to involve us in war abroad, and discord and anarchy at home. 
 So far as his acts, or those ^of his agents, have threatened our imme- 
 diate commitment in the war, or flagrant insult to the authority of 
 the laws, their effect has been counteracted by the ordinary cogni- 
 zance of the laws, and by an exertion of the powers confided to 
 me. Where their danger was not imminent, they have been borne 
 with, from sentiments of regard for his nation ; from a sense of 
 their friendship towards us ; and, I will add, from a rehance on the 
 firmness of my fellow-citizens in their principles of peace and order." 
 John Adams, speaking on this passage of the message, says : 
 " The President has given Genet a bolt of thunder. Although he 
 stands at present, as high in the admiration and confidence of the 
 people as ever he did, I expect he will find many bitter and des- 
 perate enemies arise in consequence of his just judgment against 
 Genet." In fact, the choice of speaker showed that there was a ma- 
 jority of ten against the administration, in the House of Represen- 
 tatives ; yet it was manifest, from the affectionate answer on the 
 6th, of the two Houses, to Washington's speech, and the satisfac- 
 tion expressed at his reelection, that he was not included in the 
 opposition which, from this act, appeared to await his political sys- 
 tem. The House did justice to the purity and patriotism of the 
 motives which had prompted him again to obey the voice of his 
 country, when called by it to the Presidential chair. " It is to 
 virtues which have commanded long and universal reverence, and 
 services from which have flowed great and lasting benefits, that 
 the tribute of praise may be paid, without the reproach of flattery; 
 and it is from the same sources that the fairest anticipations may be 
 derived in favor of the public happiness." As to his proclamation 
 of neutrality, while the House approved of it in guarded terms, the 
 Senate pronounced it a "measure well-timed and wise ; manifesting 
 a watchful solicitude for the welfare of the nation, and calculated 
 to promote it." 
 
 Early in the session, Mr. Jefferson, in compliance with a requisi- 
 tion which the House of Representatives had made, Feb. 23d, 
 1791, furnished an able and comprehensive report of the state of 
 trade of the United States with different countries ; specifying, also, 
 the various restrictions and prohibitions by which our commerce 
 was embarrassed, and, in some instances, almost ruined. "Two 
 methods," he said, "presented themselves, by which these impedi- 
 ments might be removed, modified, or counteracted. Friendly 
 arrangements are preferable with all who would come into them, 
 and we should carry into such arrangements all the liberality and 
 
598 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 spirit of accommodation which the nature of the case would admit. 
 But should any nation continue its system of prohibitive duties and 
 regulations, it behooves us to protect our citizens, their commerce, 
 and navigation, by counter prohibitions, duties, and regulations." 
 To effect this, he suggested a series of legislative measures of a 
 retaliatory kind. With this able and elaborate report, he closed 
 his labors as Secretary of State. His last act was a kind of part- 
 ing gun to Mr. Genet. This restless functionary had, on the 20th 
 of Dec, sent to him translations of the instructions given him by 
 the executive council of France ; desiring that the President would 
 lay them officially before both Houses of Congress, and proposing 
 to transmit successively, other papers to be laid before them in 
 like manner. Jefferson, on the 31st of Dec. informed Genet that 
 he had laid his letter and its accompaniments before the President. 
 " I have it in charge to observe," adds he, "that your functions as 
 the missionary of a foreign nation here, are confined to the trans- 
 actions of the affairs of your nation, with the Executive of the 
 United States ; that the communications which are to pass between 
 the executive and legislative branches, cannot be a subject for 
 your interference, and that the President must be left to judge for 
 himself what matters his duty or the public good may require him 
 to propose to the deliberations of Congress. I have, therefore, the 
 honor of returning you the copies sent for distribution." Washing- 
 ton had been especially sensible of the talents and integrity dis- 
 played by Jefferson during the closing year of his secretaryship, 
 and particularly throughout this French perplexity, and had 
 recently made a last attempt, but an unsuccessful one, to pursuade 
 him to remain in the cabinet. On Dec. 31st, Jefferson wrote to 
 Washington, reminding him of his having postponed his retirement 
 from office until the end of the annual year. "That term being 
 now arrived, I now take the liberty of resigning the office into your 
 hands. Be pleased to accept with it my sincere thanks for all the 
 indulgences which you have been so good as to exercise towards 
 me in the discharge of its duties. I carry into my retirement a 
 lively sense of your goodness, and shall continue gratefully to 
 remember it." Washington replied : " I cannot suffer you to leave 
 your station without assuring you, that the opinion which I had 
 formed of your integrity and talents, and which dictated your 
 original nomination, has been confiniied by the fullest experience, 
 and that both have been eminently displayed in the discharge of 
 your duty." The place thus made vacant in the cabinet was filled 
 by Mr. Edmond Randolph, whose office of Attorney General was 
 conferred on Mr. William Bradford, of Pennsylvania. 
 
 No one seemed to throw off the toils of office with more delight 
 than Jefferson : or to betake himself with more devotion to the 
 simple occupations of rural life. It was his boast, in a letter to a 
 friend written some time after his return to Monticello, that he had 
 seen no newspaper since he had left Philadelphia, and he believed 
 he should never take another newspaper of any sort. "I think it 
 is Montaigne," writes he, "who has said, that ignorance is the 
 softest pillow on which a man can rest his head. I am sure it is 
 
1794.] A WISE, A GOOD, AND A GREAT MAN. 599 
 
 true as to everything political, and shall endeavor to estrange 
 myself to everything of that character." We subjoin his compre- 
 hensive character of Washington, the result of long observation 
 and cabinet experience, and written in after years, when there was 
 no temptation to insincere eulogy: "His integrity was the 
 
 MOST pure; his justice the most inflexible I HAVE EVER 
 KNOWN ; NO MOTIVES OF INTEREST OR CONSANGUINITY, OF 
 FRIENDSHIP OR HATRED, BEING ABLE TO BIAS HIS DECISION. He 
 WAS, INDEED, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD, A WISE, A GOOD, 
 AND A GREAT MAN." 
 
 Events in Europe were full of gloomy portent. " The news of 
 this evening," writes John Adams to his wife, on the 9th of Jan., 
 "is, that the queen of France is no more. When will savages be 
 satisfied with blood? No prospect of peace in Europe, therefore 
 none of internal harmony in America. We cannot well be in a 
 more disagreeable situation than we are with all Europe, with all 
 Indians, and with all Barbary rovers. Nearly one-half of the 
 Continent is in constant opposition to the other." He speaks of 
 having had two hours' conversation with Washington alone in his 
 cabinet, but intimates that he could not reveal the purport of it, 
 even by a hint ; it had satisfied him, however, of Washington's 
 earnest desire to do right ; his close application to discover it, and 
 his deliberate and comprehensive view of our affairs with all the 
 world. " The anti-federalists and the Frenchified zealots," adds 
 Adams, "have nothing now to do that I can conceive of, but to 
 ruin his character, destroy his peace, and injure his health. He 
 supports all their attacks with firmness, and his health appears to 
 be very good." 
 
 The report of Mr. Jefferson on commercial intercourse, was soon 
 taken up in the House in a committee of the whole. A series of 
 resolutions based on it were introduced by Mr. Madison, and 
 became the subject of a warm and acrimonious debate. The 
 report upheld the policy of turning the course of trade from Eng- 
 land to France, by discriminations in favor of the latter ; and the 
 resolutions were to the same purport. Though the subject was, or 
 might seem to be, of a purely commercial nature, it was inevitably 
 mixed up with political considerations, according as a favorable 
 inclination to England or France was apprehended. The debate 
 waxed warm as it proceeded, with a strong infusion of bitterness. 
 Fisher Ames stigmatized the resolutions as having French stamped 
 upon the very face of them. Whereupon Col. Parker, of Virginia, 
 wished that there were a stamp on the forehead of every one to 
 designate whether he were for France or England. For himself, 
 he would not be silent and hear that nation abused, to whom 
 America was indebted for her rank as a nation. There was a 
 burst of applause in the gallery; but the indecorum was rebuked 
 by the galleries being cleared. The debate, which had com- 
 menced on the 13th of Jan., (1794.) was protracted to the 3d of 
 Feb., when the question being taken on the first resolution, it was 
 carried by a majority of only five, so nearly were parties divided. 
 
6oo LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 The further consideration of the remaining resolutions was sus- 
 pended in March, without a decision. 
 
 Algerine corsairs had captured eleven American merchant vessels, 
 and upwards of one hundred prisoners. A bill was introduced into 
 Congress proposing a force of six frigates, to protect the commerce 
 of the United States against the cruisers of this piratical power. 
 The bill met with strenuous opposition. The force would require 
 time to prepare it; and would then be insufficient. It might be 
 laying the foundation of a large permanent navy and a great public 
 debt. It would be cheaper to purchase the friendship of Algiers 
 with money, as was done by other nations of superior maritime 
 force, or to purchase the protection of those nations. It seems 
 hardly credible at the present day, that such policy could have 
 been urged before an American Congress, without provoking a 
 burst of scorn and indignation ; yet it was heard without any emo- 
 tion of the kind; and, though the bill was eventually passed by 
 both Houses, it was but by a small majority. It received the 
 hearty assent of the President. 
 
 The French minister of foreign affairs had reprobated the con- 
 duct of Genet as unauthorized by his instructions and deserving of 
 punishment. Mr. Fauchet, secretary of the executive council, was 
 appointed to succeed him, and arrived in the United States in 
 February. 
 
 We have noticed the orders issued by Great Britain to her cruis- 
 ers in June, 1793, and the resentment thereby excited in the United 
 States. On the 6th of Nov., 1793, Great Britain had given her 
 cruisers instructions to detain all vessels laden with the produce of 
 any colony belonging to France, or carrying supplies to any such 
 colony, and to bring them, with their cargoes, to British ports, for 
 adjudication in the British courts of admiralty. Captures of Ameri- 
 can vessels were taking place in consequence of these orders, and 
 heightening public irritation. They produced measures in Con- 
 gress preparatory to an apprehended state of war. An embargo 
 was laid, prohibiting all trade from the United States to any foreign 
 place for the space of thirty days. On the 27th of March, resolu- 
 tions were moved that all debts due to British subjects be seques- 
 tered and paid into the treasury, as a fund to indemnify citizens of 
 the United States for depredations sustained from British cruisers, 
 and that all intercourse with Great Britain be interdicted until she 
 had made compensation for these injuries, and until she should 
 make surrender of the Western posts. The popular excitement 
 was intense. Meetings were held on the subject of British spolia- 
 tions. • Peace or war' was the absorbing question. The partisans 
 of France were now in the ascendant. It was scouted as pusilla- 
 nimous any longer to hold terms with England. It was suggested 
 that those who were in favor of resisting British aggressions should 
 mount the tri-colored cockade ; and forthwith it was mounted by 
 many; while a democratic society was formed to correspond with 
 the one at Philadelphia, and aid in giving effect to these popular 
 sentiments. 
 
 Washington received advices from Mr. Pinckney, the American 
 
' 1794] yO^JV JA Y ENVO V TO GREA T BRITAIN. 6oi 
 
 minister in London, informing him that the British ministry had 
 issued instructions to the commanders of armed vessels, revoking 
 those of the 6th of Nov., and that Lord Grenville had explained the 
 real motives ior that order, showing that, however oppressive in 
 its execution, it had not been intended for the special vexation of 
 American commerce. He laid Pinckney's letter before Congress 
 on the 4th of April. It had its effect on both parties ; federalists 
 opposed all measures calculated to irritate ; the other party did not 
 press their belligerent propositions to any immediate decision, but 
 showed no solicitude to avoid a rupture. Busy partisans saw that 
 the feeling of the populace was belligerent, and every means were 
 taken by the press and the democratic societies to exasperate this 
 feeling ; according to them the crisis called, not for moderation, 
 but for decision, for energy. To adhere to a neutral position, would 
 argue tameness — cowardice! Washington, however, was too 
 morally brave to be clamored out of his wise moderation by such 
 taunts. He resolved to prevent a war if possible, by an appeal to 
 British justice. John Jay, Chief Justice of the United States, was 
 chosen as a special envoy to represent to the British government 
 the injuries we had sustained from it, and to urge indemnification. 
 "A mission like this," observes Washington in his message nominat- 
 ing Mr. Jay, '* while it corresponds with the solemnity of the occa- 
 sion, will announce to the world a solicitude for a friendly adjustment 
 of our complaints and a reluctance to hostility. Going immedi- 
 ately from the United States, such an envoy will carry with him a 
 full knowledge of the existing temper and sensibility of our country, 
 and will thus be taught to vindicate our rights with firmness, and 
 to cultivate peace with sincerity." The nomination was approved 
 by a majority of ten Senators. By this sudden and decisive meas- 
 ure Washington sought to stay the precipitate impulses of public 
 passion ; to give time to put the country into a complete state of 
 defence, and to provide such other measures as might be necessary 
 if negotiation, in a reasonable time, should prove unsuccessful. 
 
 The French Government having so promptly complied with the 
 wishes of the American government in recalling citizen Genet, 
 requested, as an act of reciprocity, the recall of Gouverneur Mor- 
 ris, whose pohtical sympathies were considered highly aristocrati- 
 cal. Washington, in a letter to Morris notifying him of his being 
 superseded, assured him of his own undiminished confidence and 
 friendship. James Monroe, who was appointed in his place, 
 arrived at Paris in a moment of great reaction. Robespieire had 
 terminated his bloody career on the scaffold, and the reign of ter- 
 ror was at end. The sentiments expressed by Monroe on deliver- 
 ing his credentials, were so completely in unison with the feelings 
 of the moment, that the President of the Convention embraced him 
 with emotion, and it was decreed that the American and French 
 flags should be entwined and hung up in the hall of the Conven- 
 tion, in sign of the union and friendship of the two republics. 
 Chiming in with popular impulse, Monroe presented the American 
 flag to the Convention, on the part of his country. It was received 
 with enthusiasm, and a decree was passed, that the national flag 
 
6o2 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of France should be transmitted in return, to the government of 
 the United States. 
 
 Washington was becoming painfully aware that censorious eyes 
 at home aere keeping a watch upon his administration, and cen- 
 sorious tongues and pens were ready to cavil at every measure. 
 " Tlie affairs of this country cannot go wrong," writes he ironically 
 to Gouverneur Morris ; " there are so many watchful guardians 
 of them^ and such infallible guides, that no one is at a loss for a 
 director at every turn." This is almost the only instance of irony 
 to be found in his usually plain, direct correspondence, and to us 
 is mournfully suggestive of that soreness and weariness of heart 
 with which he saw his conscientious policy misunderstood or mis- 
 represented, and himself becoming an object of party hostihty. 
 
 An insurrection had broken out in the western part of Pennsyl- 
 vania on account of the excise law. Bills of indictment had been 
 found against some of the rioters. The marshal, when on the way 
 to serve the processes issued by the court, was fired upon by 
 armed men, and narrowly escaped with his life. He was subse- 
 quently seized and compelled to renounce the exercise of his official 
 duties. The house of Gen. Nevil, inspector of the revenue, was 
 assailed, but the assailants were repulsed. They assembled in 
 greater numbers ; the magistrates and militia officers shrank from 
 interfering, lest it should provoke a general insurrection ; a few 
 regular soldiers were obtained from the garrison at Fort Pitt. The 
 insurgents demanded that the inspector and his papers should be 
 given up ; and the soldiers march out of the house and ground 
 their arms. The demand being refused, the house was attacked, 
 the outhouses set on fire, and the garrison was compelled to sur- 
 render. The marshal and inspector finally escaped out of the 
 country ; descended the Ohio, and, by a circuitous route, found 
 their way to the seat of government. Washington deprecated the 
 result of these outrageous proceedings. " If the laws are to be so 
 trampled upon with impunity," said he, " and a minority, a small 
 one too, is to dictate to the majority, there is an end put, at one 
 stroke, to republican government." On the 7th of Aug. he issued 
 a proclamation, warning the insurgents to disperse, and declaring 
 that if tranquillity were not restored before the 1st of Sept., force 
 would be employed to compel submission to the laws. He made 
 a requisition on the governors of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Mary- 
 land and Virginia, for militia to compose an army of twelve thou- 
 sand men ; afterwards augmented to fifteen thousand. The 
 insurgents manifesting a disposition to persevere in their rebellious 
 conduct, the President issued a second proclamation on the 25th 
 of Sept. describing in forcible terms the perverse and obstinate 
 spirit with which the lenient propositions of government had been 
 met, and declaring his fixed purpose to reduce the refractory to 
 obedience. Shortly after this he left Philadelphia for Carlisle, to 
 join the army. On the 9th of Oct. he wrote from Carlisle to the 
 Secretary of State: "The insurgents are alarmed, but not yet 
 brought to their proper senses. Every means is devised by them 
 and their friends and associates, to induce a belief that there is no 
 
1794.] WHISKEY INSURRECTION QUELLED, 603 
 
 necessity for troops crossing the mountains ; although we have 
 information, at the same time, that part of the people there are 
 obliged to embody themselves to repel the insults of another part." 
 On the loth, the Pennsylvania troops set out from Carlisle for their 
 rendezvous at Bedford, and Washington proceeded to WilHams- 
 port, thence to go on to Fort Cumberland, the rendezvous of the 
 Virginia and Maryland troops. He arrived at the latter place on 
 the 1 6th of Oct. and found a respectable force assembled from 
 those States, and learnt that fifteen hundred more from Virginia 
 were at hand. At Bedford he arranged matters and settled a plan 
 of military operations. The Governors of Virginia, Maryland, and 
 Pennsylvania, were at the head of the troops of their respective 
 States. In a letter to Gov. Lee, of Virginia, (Light-Horse Harry) 
 on leaving him in command, he conveyed to the army the very 
 high sense he entertained "of the enlightened and patriotic zeal 
 for the constitution and the laws which had led them cheerfully to 
 quit their families, homes, and the comforts of private life, to 
 undertake, and thus far to perform, along and fatiguing march, 
 and to encounter and endure the hardships and privations of a 
 military life. No citizens of the United States can ever be 
 engaged in a service more important to their country. It is noth- 
 ing less than to consolidate and to preserve the blessings of that 
 revolution which, at much expense of blood and treasure, consti- 
 tuted us a free and independent nation." 
 
 Washington pushed on for Philadelphia, through deep roads and 
 a three days* rain, and arrived there about the last of October. 
 Gov. Lee marched with fifteen thousand men into the western 
 counties of Pennsylvania. This great military array extinguished 
 at once the kindling elements of a civil war, •• by making resistance 
 desperate." At the approach of so overwhelming a force the 
 insurgents laid down their arms, gave assurance of submission, and 
 craved the clemency of government. It was extendea to them. 
 A few were tried for treason, but were not convicted ; but as some 
 spirit of discontent was still manifest, Major-Gen. Morgan was 
 stationed with a detachment, for the winter, m the disaffected 
 region. It must have been a proud satisfaction to Washington to 
 have put down, without an effusion of blood, an insurrection 
 which, at one time, threatened such serious consequences. In his 
 speech on the opening of Congress (Nov. igth), he did not hesitate 
 to denounce "certain self-created societies" as " fomenters of it." 
 After detailing its commencement and progress, he observes : 
 " While there is cause to lament that occurrences of this nature 
 should have disgraced the name or interrupted the tranquillity of 
 any part of our community, or should have diverted to a new 
 application any portion of the public resources, there are not want- 
 ing real and substantial consolations for the misfortune. It has 
 demonstrated, that our prosperity rests on solid foundations ; by 
 furnishing an addidonal proof that my fellow-citizens understand 
 the true principles of government and liberty ; that they feel their 
 inseparable union ; that, notwithstanding all the devices which 
 have been used to sway them from their interest and duty, they 
 
6o4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 are now as ready to maintain the authority of the laws against 
 licentious invasions, as they were to defend their rights against 
 usurpation. It has been a spectacle, displaying to the highest 
 advantage the value of repubhcan government, to behold the most 
 and least wealthy of our citizens standing in the same ranks as 
 private soldiers ; pre-eminently distinguished by being the army of 
 the constitution ; undeterred by a march of three hundred miles 
 over rugged mountains, by the approach of an inclement season, or 
 by any other discouragement. To every description, indeed, of 
 citizens, let praise be given ; but let them persevere in their affec- 
 tionate vigilance over that precious depository of American happi- 
 ness, the constitution of the United States. Let them cherish it, 
 too, for the sake of those who, from every clime, are daily seeking 
 a dwelHng in our land." 
 
 It was with great satisfaction that Washington had been able to 
 announce favorable intelligence of the campaign of Gen. Wayne 
 against the hostile Indians west of the Ohio. In the spring (of 
 1794), that brave commander had advanced cautiously into the 
 wild country west of his winter encampment on the Ohio, skirmish- 
 ing with bands of lurking savages, and establishing posts to keep 
 up communication, and secure the transmission of supplies. It 
 was not until the 8th of August that he arrived at the junction of 
 the rivers Au Glaize and Miami in a fertile and populous region, 
 where the Western Indians had their most important villages. 
 Here he threw up some works, which he named Fort Defiance. 
 Being strengthened by 1,100 mounted volunteers from Kentucky, 
 his force exceeded that of the savage warriors, which scarcely 
 amounted to 2,000 men. These, however, were strongly encamped 
 in the vicinity of Fort Miami, a British post, about thirty miles dis- 
 tant, and far within the Hmits of the United States, and seemed 
 prepared to give battle, expecting, possibly, to be aided by the 
 British garrison. Wayne's men were eager for a fight. In aletter 
 to his old comrade Knox, secretary of war, he writes, "Though 
 now prepared to strike, I have thought proper to make the enemy 
 a last overture of peace, nor am I without hopes that they will Us- 
 ten to it." The reply he received was such as to leave him in 
 doubt of the intentions of the enemy. He advanced, therefore, 
 with the precautions he had hitherto observed, hoping to be met in. 
 the course of his march by deputies on peaceful missions. On the 
 20th, his advanced guard was fired upon by an ambush concealed 
 in a thicket, and an attack of horse and foot was made upon the 
 enemy's position ; the Indians were roused from their lair with the 
 point of the bayonet ; driven, fighting, for more than two miles, 
 through thick woods, and pursued with great slaughter until within 
 gunshot of the British Fort. "We remained," writes the general, 
 • ' three days and nights on the banks of the Miami, in front of the field 
 of battle, during which time all the houses and corn were consumed, 
 or otherwise destroyed, for a considerable distance both above and 
 below Fort Miami ; and we were within pistol-shot of the garrison of 
 that place, who were compelled to remain quiet spectators of this gen- 
 eral devastation and conflagration." It was trusted that this decis- 
 
1 795 -J TREATY WITH GREAT BRITAIN. 605 
 
 ive battle, and the wide ravages of villages and fields of corn with 
 which it was succeeded, would bring the Indians to their senses, 
 and compel them to solicit the peace which they had so repeatedly 
 rejected. 
 
 In his official address to Congress, Washington had urged the 
 adoption of some definite plan for the redemption of the public 
 debt. A plan was reported by Mr. Hamilton, 20th January, 1795, 
 which he had digested and prepared on the basis of the actual 
 revenues, for the further support of public credit. The report em- 
 braced a comprehensive view of the system which he had pursued, 
 and made some recommendations, which after much debate were 
 adopted. So closed Mr. Hamilton's labors as Secretary of the Treas- 
 ury. He was succeeded in office by OHver Wolcott, of Connecti- 
 cut, a man of judgment and ability, who had served as comptroller, 
 and was familiar with the duties of the office. Knox likewise had 
 given in his resignation at the close ofthe month of December. He 
 was succeeded in the war department by Col. Timothy Pickering, at 
 that time Postmaster-General. The session of Congress closed on 
 the 3d of March, 1795. 
 
 Washington had watched the progress of the mission of Mr. Jay 
 to England, with an anxious eye. It was one of great delicacy, 
 from the many intricate and difficult points to be discussed, and 
 the various and mutual grounds of complaint to be adjusted. He 
 hardly permitted himself to hope for its complete success. To 
 'give and take,' he presumed would be the result. In the mean- 
 time there were so many hot heads and impetuous spirits at home 
 to be managed and restrained, that he was anxious the negotiation 
 might assume a decisive form and be brought to a speedy close. 
 At length, on the 7th of March, 1795, four days after the close of 
 the session of Congress, a treaty arrived which had been negotiated 
 by Mr. Jay, and signed by the ministers of the two nations on the 
 19th of Nov. In a letter to Washington, which accompanied the 
 treaty, Mr. Jay wrote : "To do more was impossible. I ought not 
 to conceal from you that the confidence reposed in your personal 
 character was visible and useful throughout the negotiation." 
 Washington immediately made the treaty a close study ; some of 
 the provisions were perfectly satisfactory ; of others, he did not 
 approve ; on the whole, he considered it a matter, to use his own 
 expression, of 'give and take,' and believing the advantages to out- 
 weigh the objections, and that, as Mr. Jay alleged, it was the best 
 treaty attainable, he made up his mind to ratify it, should it be ap- 
 proved by the Senate. He kept its provisions secret, that the 
 public mind might not be preoccupied on the subject. In the 
 course of a few days, however, enough leaked out to be seized 
 upon by the opposition press to excite public distrust, though 
 not enough to convey a distinct idea of the merits of the instru- 
 ment. In fact, the people were predisposed to condemn, because 
 vexed that any overtures had been made towards a negotiation, 
 such overtures having been stigmatized as cowardly and degrading. 
 If it had been necessary to send a minister to England, said they, 
 it should have been to make a downright demand of reparation 
 
6c6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 for wrongs inflicted on our commerce, and the immediate surrender 
 of the Western posts. Mr, Jay arrived on the 28th of May, and 
 found that during his absence in Europe he had been elected gov- 
 ernor of the State of New York; an honorable election, the result 
 of no effort nor intrigue, but of the public sense entertained by his 
 native State, of his pure and exalted merit. He, in consequence, 
 resigned the office of Chief Justice of the United States. The Sen- 
 ate was convened by Washington on the 8th of June, and the 
 treaty was laid before it, with its accompanying documents. The 
 session was with closed doors, discussions were long and arduous, 
 and the treaty underwent a scrutinizing examination. Tliie twelfth 
 article provided for a direct trade between the United States and 
 the British West India Islands, in American vessels not exceeding 
 seventy tons burden, conveying the produce of the States or of the 
 Islands ; but it prohibited the exportation of molasses, sugar, coffee, 
 cocoa, or cotton, in American vessels, either from the United States 
 or the Islands, to any part of the world. Under this article it was 
 a restricted intercourse, but Mr. Jay considered the admission even 
 of small vessels, to the trade of these Islands, an important advan- 
 tage to the commerce of the United States. He had not sufficiently 
 adverted to the fact that, among the prohibited articles, cotton was 
 also a product of the Southern States. Its cultivation had been but 
 recently introduced there; so that when he sailed for Europe hardly 
 sufficient had been raised for domestic consumption, and at the 
 time of signing the treaty very little, if any, had been exported. 
 Still it was now becoming an important staple of the South. On 
 the 24th of June, two-thirds of the Senate, the constitutional major- 
 ity, voted for the ratification of the treaty, stipulating, however, 
 that an article be added suspending so much of the twelfth article 
 as respected the West India trade, and that the President be 
 requested to open, without delay, further negotiation on this head. 
 Here was a novel case to be determined. Could the Senate be 
 considered to have ratified the treaty before the insertion of this 
 new article? Was the act complete and final, so as to render it 
 unnecessary to refer it back to that body ? Could the President 
 put his final seal upon an act before it was complete ? After much 
 reflection, Washington was satisfied of the propriety of ratifying 
 the treaty with the qualification imposed by the Senate, The pop- 
 ular discontent concerning it was daily increasing. The secrecy 
 Avliich had been maintained with regard to its provisions was wrested 
 into a cause of offence. Republics should have no secrets. The 
 Senate should not have deliberated on the treaty with closed doors. 
 Such was the irritable condition of the public mind when, on the 
 29th of June, a senator of the United States (Mr, Mason of Vir- 
 ginia) sent an abstract of the treaty to be published in a leading 
 opposition paper in Philadelphia. The whole country was imme- 
 diately in a blaze. Besides the opposition party, a portion of the 
 Cabinet was against the ratification. The attack upon it was vehe- 
 ment and sustained. Meetings to oppose it were held in Boston, 
 New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Charleston. The smaller 
 towns throughout the Union followed their example. In New 
 
1 795 • j SEEK TR UTH AND PURS UE IT STEAD IL V. 607 
 
 York, a copy of the treaty was burnt before the governor's house. 
 In Philadelphia, it was suspended on a pole, carried about the 
 streets, and finally burnt in front of the British minister's house, 
 amid the shoutings of the populace. News came that the order of 
 the British government of the 8th of June, 1793, for the seizure of 
 provisions in vessels going to French ports, was renewed. Wash- 
 ington instantly directed that a strong memorial should be drawn 
 up against this order ; as it seemed to favor a construction of the 
 treaty which he was determined to resist. "While this memorial 
 was in course of preparation, he was called off to Mount Vernon. 
 On his way thither, though little was said to him on the subject of 
 the treaty, he found, he says, from indirect discourses, that en- 
 deavors were making to place it in all the odious points of view of 
 which it was susceptible, and in some which it would not admit. 
 Never, during his administration, had he seen a crisis, in his judg- 
 ment, so pregnant with interesting events. The public clamor con- 
 tinued, but did not shake his purpose. " There is but one straight 
 course y' said he, "and that is to seek truth and pursue it stead- 
 ily. 
 
 The difficult and intricate questions pressing upon the attention 
 of government left Washington little mood to enjoy the retirement 
 of Mount Vernon, being constantly in doubt whether his presence 
 in Philadelphia were not necessary. He returned there on August 
 nth. The predominant object of his thoughts recently had been 
 to put a stop to the public agitation on the subject of the treaty. 
 On the next day, therefore, (12th), he brought before the cabinet 
 the question of immediate ratification. All the members were in 
 favor of it excepting Mr. Randolph. It was finally agreed to 
 accompany the ratification with a strong memorial against the pro- 
 vision order. The ratification was signed by Washington on the 
 1 8th of August. 
 
 During the late agitations, George Washington Lafayette, the son 
 of the General, had arrived at Boston under the name of Motier, 
 accompanied by his tutor, M. Frestel, and had written to Washington 
 apprising him of his arrival. It was an embarrassing moment to 
 Washington. The letter excited his deepest sensibihty, bringing with 
 it recollections of Lafayette's merits, services, and sufferings, and of 
 their past friendship, and he resolved to become " father, friend, pro- 
 tector, and supporter" to his son. Caution was necessary, not to 
 endanger the situation of the young man himself, and of his mother 
 and friends whom he had left behind. Philadelphia would not be 
 an advisable residence for him at present, until it was seen what 
 opinions would be excited by his arrival ; as Washington would for 
 some time be absent from the seat of government, while all the 
 foreign functionaries were residing there, particularly those of his 
 own nation. It was thought best that young Lafayette should pro- 
 ceed to New York, and remain in retirement, at the country house 
 of a friend in its vicinity, pursuing his studies with his tutor, until 
 Washington should direct otherwise. 
 
 In his speech at the opening of the session of Congress in De- 
 cember, Washington presented a cheerful summar}' of the events 
 
6o8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of the year. " I trust I do not deceive myself," said he, " while I 
 indulge the persuasion, that I have never met you at any period 
 when, more than at present, the situation of our public affairs has 
 afforded just cause for mutual congratulation, and for inviting you 
 to join with me in profound gratitude to the Author of all good, for 
 the numerous and extraordinary blessings we enjoy." He announced 
 that a treaty had been concluded provisionally, confirmed by a 
 definitive treaty on the 7th of August, by Gen. Wayne, with the 
 Indians northwest of the Ohio, by which the termination of the long, 
 expensive, and distressing war with those tribes was placed at the 
 option of the United States. "In the adjustment of the terms," 
 said he, " the satisfaction of the Indians was deemed an object 
 worthy no less of the policy than of the liberality of the United 
 States, as the necessary basis of durable tranquillity. This object, 
 it is believed, has been fully attained. The articles agreed upon 
 will immediately be laid before the Senate, for their consideration." 
 A letter from the Emperor of Morocco, recognizing a treaty which 
 had been made with his deceased father, insured the continuance 
 of peace with that power. The terms of a treaty with the Dey and 
 regency of Algiers had been adjusted in a manner to authorize the 
 expectation of a speedy peace in that quarter, and the liberation of 
 a number of American citizens from a long and grievous captivity. 
 A speedy and satisfactory conclusion was anticipated of a negotia- 
 tion with the court of Madrid, " which would lay the foundation 
 of lasting harmony with a power whose friendship we have uni- 
 formly and sincerely desired to cherish." In regard to internal 
 affairs, every part of the Union gave indications of rapid and vari- 
 ous improvement. "With burthens so light as scarcely to be per- 
 ceived ; with resources fully adequate to present exigencies ; with 
 governments founded on the genuine principles of rational liberty ; 
 and with mild and wholesome laws, was it too much to say that 
 our country exhibited a spectacle of national happiness never sur- 
 passed, if ever before equalled ? " In regard to the late insurrec- 
 tion : " The misled have abandoned their errors, and pay the 
 respect to our constitution and laws which is due from good citi- 
 zens to the pubhc authorities. These circumstances have induced 
 me to pardon generally the offenders here referred to, and to extend 
 forgiveness to those who had been adjudged to capital punish- 
 ment." There was, as usual, a cordial asswer from the Senate ; 
 but, in the present House of Representatives, as in the last one, 
 the opposition were in the majority. In the response reported by 
 a committee, one clause expressing undiminished confidence in 
 the chief magistrate was demurred to ; it was recommitted, and 
 the clause objected to modified. The following is the form adopted: 
 " In contemplating that spectacle of national happiness which our 
 country exhibits, and of which you, sir, have been pleased to make 
 an interesting summary, permit us to acknowledge and declare 
 the very great share which your zealous and faithful services have 
 contributed to it, and to express the affectionate attachment which 
 we feel for your character." 
 
 The first day of January, being "a day of general joy and con- 
 
1796.] PAPERS REFUSED TO THE HOUSE. 609 
 
 gratulation," had been appointed by Washington to receive the 
 colors of France, sent out by the Committee of Safety. On that 
 day they were presented by Mr. Adet, the successor of Mr. 
 Fauchet, as minister to the United States, with an address, repre- 
 senting, in glowing language, the position of France, " struggling 
 not only for her own liberty, but for that of the human race. Assimi- 
 lated to or rather identified with free people by the form of her 
 government, she saw in them only friends and brothers. Long 
 accustomed to regard the American people as her most faithful 
 allies, she sought to draw closer the ties already formed in the 
 fields of America, under the auspices of victory, over the ruins of 
 tyranny." Washington received the colors with lively sensibility 
 and a brief reply, expressive of the deep solicitude and high admi- 
 ration produced by the events of the French struggle, and his joy 
 that the interesting revolutionary movements of so many years had 
 issued in the formation of a constitution designed to give perma- 
 nency to the great object contended for. 
 
 In February the treaty with Great Britain, as modified by the 
 advice of the Senate, came back ratified by the king of Great 
 Britain, and on the last of the month a proclamation was issued by 
 the President, declaring it to be the supreme law of the land. The 
 opposition in the House of Representatives were offended that 
 \Vashington should issue this proclamation before the sense of that 
 body had been taken on the subject, and denied the ^ower of the 
 President and Senate to complete a treaty without its sanction. 
 They passed a resolution requesting the President to lay before the 
 House the instructions to Mr. Jay, and the correspondence and 
 other documents relative to the treaty. Washington, believing 
 that these papers could not be constitutionally demanded, with the 
 assistance of the heads of departments and the Attorney-General, 
 prepared and sent in to the House an answer to their request. In 
 this he dwelt upon the necessity of caution and secrecy in foreign 
 negotiations, as one cogent reason for vesting the power of making 
 treaties in the President, with the advice and consent of the Sen- 
 ate, the principle on which that body was formed, confining it to a 
 small number of members. To admit a right in the House of Rep- 
 resentatives to demand and have all the papers respecting a foreign 
 negotiation would, he observed, be to establish a dangerous prec- 
 edent. "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 
 itself in 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 between the different departments should be 
 observed, a just regard to the constitution and to the duty of my 
 office, under all the circumstances of this case, forbid a compli- 
 ance with your request." A resolution to make provision for car- 
 rying the treaty into effect, gave rise to an animated and protracted 
 debate. It soon became apparent that the popular feehng was with 
 the minority in the House of Representatives, who favored the making 
 20 
 
6io LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of the necessary appropriations. The public will prevailed, and, on 
 the last day of April, the resolution was passed, though by a close 
 vote of fifty-one to forty-eight. 
 
 For some months past, iMr. Thomas Pinckney had been solicit- 
 ous to be relieved from his post of Minister Plenipotentiary at Lon- 
 don. Rufus King, of New York, was nominated to the Senate on 
 the 19th of May, to succeed him ; and his nomination was con- 
 firmed. On the ist of June, this session of Congress terminated. 
 
 Shortly after the recess of Congress another change was made in 
 the foreign diplomacy. Mr. Monroe, when sent envoy to France, 
 had been especially instructed to explain the views and conduct of 
 the United States in forming the treaty with England ; and had 
 been amply furnished with documents for the purpose. From 
 his own letters, however, it appeared that he had omitted to use 
 them. Whether this rose from undue attachment to France, from 
 mistaken notions of American interests, or from real dislike to the 
 treaty, the result was the very evil he had been instructed to pre- 
 vent. The French government misconceived the views and con- 
 duct of the United States, suspected their policy in regard to Great 
 Britain, and when aware that the House of Representatives would 
 execute the treaty made by Jay, became bitter in their resentment. 
 Symptoms of this appeared in the capture of an American mer- 
 chantman by a P'rench privateer. Under these circumstances it 
 was deemed expedient by Washington and his cabinet, to recall 
 Mr. Monroe, and appoint another American citizen in his stead. 
 The person chosen was Charles Cotesworth Pinckney of South Car- 
 olina, elder brother of the late minister to London. Still the resent- 
 ful policy of the French continued, and, in October, they issued 
 an arret ordering the seizure of British property found on board 
 of American vessels, and of provisions bound for England — a direct 
 violation of their treaty with the United States. 
 
 The period for the presidential election was drawing near, and 
 great anxiety began to be felt that Washington would consent to 
 stand for a third term. No one, it was agreed, had greater claim 
 to the enjoyment of retirement, in consideration of public services 
 rendered; but it was thought the affairs of the country would be 
 in a very precarious condition should he retire before the wars of 
 Europe were brought to a close. Washington, however, had made 
 up his mind irrevocably on the subject, and resolved to announce, 
 in a farewell address, his intention of retiring. Such an instru- 
 ment had been prepared for him from his own notes, by Mr. Madi- 
 son, when he had thought of retiring at the end of his first term. 
 As he was no longer in confidential intimacy with Mr. Madison, he 
 turned to Mr. Hamilton as his adviser and coadjutor : " If you 
 should think it best to throw the whole into a different form," 
 writes Washington, "let me request, notwithstanding, that my 
 draft may be returned to me (along with yours) with such amend- 
 ments and corrections as to render it as perfect as the formation is 
 susceptible of; curtailed if too verbose, and relieved of all tautol- 
 ogy not necessary to enforce the ideas in the original or quoted 
 part. My wish is, that the whole may appear in a plain style; 
 
1796.] WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 6il 
 
 and be handed to the public in an honest, unaffected, simple garb." 
 We forbear to go into the vexed question concerning this address; 
 how much of it is founded on Washington's original "notes and 
 heads of topics; " how much was elaborated by Madison, and 
 how much is due to Hamilton's recasting and revision. The 
 whole came under the supervision of Washington; and the instru- 
 ment, as submitted to the press, was in his handwriting, with many 
 ultimate corrections and alterations. Washington had no pride of 
 authorship; his object always was to effect the purpose in hand, 
 and for that he occasionally invoked assistance, to ensure a plain 
 and clear exposition of his thoughts and intentions. The address 
 certainly breathes his spirit throughout, is in perfect accordance 
 with his words and actions, and "in an honest, unaffected, simple 
 garb," embodies the system of policy on which he had acted 
 throughout his administration. It was published in September, in 
 a Philadelphia paper called the Daily Advertiser, and produced a 
 great sensation. Several of the State legislatures ordered it to be 
 put on their journals. "The President's declining to be again 
 elected," writes the elder Wolcott, "constitutes a most important 
 epoch in our national affairs. The country meets the event with 
 reluctance, but they do not feel that they can make any claim for 
 the further services of a man who has conducted their armies 
 through a successful war; has so largely contributed to establish a 
 national government; has so long presided over our councils and 
 directed the public administration, and in the most advantageous 
 manner settled all national differences, and who can leave the ad- 
 ministration where nothing but our folly and internal discord can 
 render the country otherwise than happy." 
 
 Congress formed a quorum on the 5th day of December, the 
 first day of the session which succeeded the publication of the 
 Farewell Address. On the 7th, Washington met the two Houses 
 of Congress for the last time. In his speech he recommended an 
 institution for the improvement of agriculture, a military academy, 
 a national university, and a gradual increase of the navy. The 
 disputes with France were made the subject of the following re- 
 marks : " Our trade has suffered and is suffering extensive injuries 
 in the West Indies from the cruisers and agents of the French Re- 
 public. It has been my constant, sincere, and earnest wish, in 
 conformity with that of our nation, to maintain cordial harmony 
 and a perfectly friendly understanding with that Republic. This 
 wish remains unabated; and I shall persevere in the endeavor to 
 fulfil it to the utmost extent of what shall be consistent with a just 
 and indispensable regard to the rights and honor of our country; 
 nor will I easily cease to cherish the expectation, that a spirit of 
 justice, candor and friendship, on the part of the Republic, will 
 eventually ensure success." In concluding his address he ob- 
 serves, " The situation in which I now stand for the last time in 
 the midst of the representatives of the people of the United States, 
 naturally recalls the period when the adminstration of the present 
 form of government commenced, and I cannot omit the occasion 
 to congratulate you and my country on the success of the experi- 
 
6i2 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ment, nor to repeat my fervent supplications to the Supreme Ruler 
 of the universe and Sovereign Arbiter of nations, that his provi- 
 dential care maybe still extended to the United States; that the 
 virtue and happiness of the people may be preserved, and that the 
 government which they have instituted for the protection of their 
 liberties may be perpetual." 
 
 The Senate, in their reply to the address, after concurring in its 
 views of the national prosperity, as resulting from the excellence 
 of the constitutional system and the wisdom of the legislative pro- 
 visions, added, that they would be deficient in gratitude and justice 
 did they not attribute a great portion of these advantages to the 
 virtue, firmness and talents of his administration, conspicuously 
 displayed in the most trying times, and on the most critical occa- 
 sions. RecaUing his arduous services, civil and military, as well 
 during the struggles of the revolution as in the convulsive period 
 of a later date, their warmest affections and anxious regards would 
 accompany him in his approaching retirement. The reply of the 
 House concluded by a warm expression of gratitude and admira- 
 tion, inspired by the virtues and the services of the President, by 
 his wisdom, firmness, moderation, and magnanimity; and testify- 
 ing to the deep regret with which they contemplated his intended 
 retirement from office. " May you long enjoy that liberty which 
 is so dear to you, and to which your name will ever be so dear," 
 added they. " May your own virtue and a nation's prayers obtain 
 the happiest sunshine for the decline of your days, and the choicest 
 of future blessings. P^or our country's sake, and for the sake of 
 republican liberty, it is our earnest wish that your example may be 
 the guide of your successors; and thus, after being the ornament 
 and safeguard of the present age, become the patrimony of our 
 descendants." The reverence and affection expressed for him in 
 both Houses of Congress, and their regret at his intended retire- 
 ment, were in unison with testimonials from various State legisla- 
 tures and other public bodies, which were continually arriving 
 since the publication of his Farewell Address. 
 
 In the month of February the votes taken at the recent election 
 were opened and counted in Congress ; when Mr. Adams, having 
 the highest number, was declared President, and Mr. Jefferson, 
 having the next number. Vice President ; their term of four years 
 to commence on the 4th of March next ensuing. Washington 
 now began to count the days and hours that intervened between 
 him and his retirement. On the day preceding it, he writes to his 
 old fellow-soldier and political coadjutor, Henry Knox: "To the 
 wearied traveller, who sees a resting-place, and is bending his 
 body to lean thereon, I now compare myself; but to be suffered to 
 do this in peace, is too much to be endured by some. The con- 
 solation, however, which results from conscious rectitude, and the 
 approving voice of my country, unequivocally expressed by its 
 representatives, deprive their sting of its poison. The remainder 
 of my life, which in the course of nature cannot be long, will be 
 occupied in rural amusements ; and though I shall seclude myself 
 as much as possible from the noisy and bustling world, none 
 
1/97-] ADAMS SUCCEEDS WASHINGTON. 613 
 
 would, more than myself, be regaled by the company of those I 
 esteem, at Mount Vernon; more than twenty miles from which, 
 after I arrive there, it is not hkely that I shall ever be." On the 3d 
 of March, the last day of his official career, he gave a kind of 
 farewell dinner to the foreign ministers and their wives, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Adams, Mr. Jefferson, and other conspicuous personages of 
 both sexes. "During the dinner much hilarity prevailed," says 
 Bishop White, who was present. When the cloth was removed 
 Washington filled his glass: "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, 
 "this is the last time I shall drink your health as a public man; I 
 do it with sincerity, wishing you all possible happiness." The 
 gayety of the company was checked in an instant; all felt the im- 
 portance of this leave-taking; Mrs. Liston, the wife of the British 
 minister, was so much affected that tears streamed down her 
 cheeks. On the 4th of March, an immense crowd had gathered 
 about Congress Hall. At eleven o'clock, Mr. Jefferson took the 
 oath as Vice President in the presence of the Senate ; and pro- 
 ceeded with that body to the Chamber of the House of Represent- 
 atives, which was densely crowded, many ladies occupying chairs 
 ceded to them by members. After a time, Washington entered 
 amidst enthusiastic cheers and acclamations, and the waving of 
 handkerchiefs. Having taken the oath of office, Mr. Adams, 
 in his inaugural address, spoke of his predecessor as one "who, 
 by a long course of great actions, regulated by prudence, justice, 
 temperance, and fortitude, had merited the gratitude of his fellow- 
 citizens, commanded the highest praises of foreign nations, and 
 secured immortal glory with posterity." At the close of the cere- 
 mony, as Washington moved toward the door to retire, there was 
 a rush from the gallery to the corridor that threatened the loss of 
 life or limb, so eager were the throng to catch a last look of one 
 who had so long been the object of public veneration. When 
 Washington was in the street he waved his hat in return for the. 
 cheers of the multitude, his countenance radiant with benignity, 
 his gray hairs streaming in the wind. The crowd followed him to 
 his door; there, turning round, his countenance assumed a grave 
 and almost melancholy expression, his eyes were bathed in tears, 
 his emotions were too great for utterance, and only by gestures 
 could he indicate his thanks and convey his farewell blossmg. In 
 the evening a splendid banquet was given to him by the principal 
 inhabitants of Philadelphia in the Amphitheatre, which was dec- 
 orated with emblematical paintings. All the heads of depart- 
 ments, the foreign ministers, several officers of the late army, and 
 various persons of note, were present. Among the paintings, one 
 represented the home of his heart, the home to which he was about 
 to hasten— Mount Vernon. 
 
6i4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WASHINGTON AT MOUNT VERNON — HIS DEATH — CHARACTER. 
 
 His official career being terminated, Washington set off for 
 Mount Vernon accompanied by Mrs. Washington, her grand- 
 daughter Miss Nelly Custis, and George Washington Lafayette, 
 with his preceptors. Of the enthusiastic devotion manifested 
 towards him wherever he passed, he takes the following brief and 
 characteristic notice: "The attentions we met with on our journey 
 were very flattering, and to some, whose minds are differently 
 formed from mine, would have been highly rehshed ; but I avoided, 
 in every instance where I had any previous notice of the intention, 
 and could, by earnest entreaties, prevail, all parade and escorts." 
 
 He is at length at Mount Vernon, that haven of repose to which 
 he had so often turned a wishful eye, throughout his agitated and 
 anxious life, and where he trusted to pass quietly and serenely the 
 remainder of his days. He finds himself, however, "in the situa- 
 tion of a new beginner; almost everything about him required 
 considerable repairs, and a house is immediately to be built for the 
 reception and safe keeping of his military, civil, and private papers." 
 "In a word," writes he, "I am already surrounded by joiners, 
 masons, and painters, and such is my anxiety to be out of their 
 hands, that I have scarcely a room to put a friend into, or to sit in 
 myself, without the music of hammers and the odoriferous scent of 
 paint." Still he is at Mount Vernon, and as the spring opens the 
 rural beauties of the country exert their sweetening influence. In 
 a letter to his friend Oliver Wolcott, who, as Secretary of the 
 Treasury, was still acting on "the great theatre," he adverts but 
 briefly to pubhc affairs. "For myself," adds he, exultingly, 
 "having turned aside from the broad walks of political into the 
 narrow paths of private life, I shall leave it with those whose duty 
 it is to consider subjects of this sort, and, as every good citizen 
 ought to do, conform to whatsoever the ruhng powers shall decide. 
 To make and sell a little flour annually, to repair houses going fast 
 to ruin, to build one for the security of my papers of a pubhc 
 nature, and to amuse myself in agricultural and rural pursuits, 
 will constitute employment for the few years I have to remain on 
 this terrestrial globe. If, also, I could now and then meet the 
 friends I esteem, it would fill the measure and add zest to my en- 
 joyments ; but, if ever this happens, it must be under my own vine 
 and fig-tree." And again, to another friend he indulges in 
 pleasant anticipations: "Retired from noise myself and the re- 
 sponsibility attached to public employment, my hours will glide 
 smoothly on. My best wishes, however, for the prosperity of our 
 country will always have the first place in my thoughts ; while to 
 repair buildings and to cultivate my farms, which require close at- 
 tention, will occupy the few years, perhaps days, I may be a so- 
 journer here, as I am now in the sixty-fifth year of my peregrina- 
 
1797.] LIFE AT MOUNT VERNON. 615 
 
 tion through life." A letter to his friend James Mc Henry, Secre- 
 tary of War, furnishes a picture of his e very-day life. •• I am 
 indebted to you," writes he, "for several unacknowledged letters ; 
 but never mind that ; go on as if you had answers. You are at the 
 source of information, and can find many things to relate, while I 
 have nothing to say that could either inform or amuse a Secretary 
 of War in Philadelphia. I might tell him that I begin my diurnal 
 course with the sun ; that, if my hirelings are not in their places at 
 that time, I send them messages of sorrow for their indisposition ; 
 that, having put these wheels in motion, I examine the state of 
 things further; that the more they are probed the deeper I find the 
 wounds which my buildings have sustained, by an absence and 
 neglect of eight years ; that, by the time I have accomplished these 
 matters, breakfast (a little after seven o'clock,) is ready; that, 
 this being over, I mount my horse and ride round my farms, which 
 employs me until it is time to dress for dinner, at which I rarely 
 miss seeing strange faces. How different this from having a few social 
 friends at a cheerful board! The usual time of sitting at table, a 
 walk, and tea bring me within the dawn of candle light ; previous 
 to which, if not prevented by company, I resolve that, as soon as 
 the glimmering taper supplies the place of the great luminary, I 
 will retire to my writing table and acknowledge the letters I have 
 received ; but when the lights are brought I feel tired and disin- 
 clined to engage in this work, conceiving that the next night will 
 do as well." In his solitary rides about Mount Vernon and its 
 Avoodlands, fond and melancholy thoughts would occasionally 
 sadden the landscape, as his mind reverted to past times and early 
 associates. In a letter to Mrs. S. Fairfax, now in England, he 
 writes : " It is a matter of sore regret when I cast my eyes toward 
 Belvoir, which I often do, to reflect that the former inhabitants of 
 it, with whom we lived in such harmony and friendship, no longer 
 reside there, and the ruins only can be viewed as the mementoes of 
 former pleasures." The influx of strange faces soon became over- 
 whelming, and Washington felt the necessity of having some one 
 at hand to relieve him from a part of the self-imposed duties of 
 Virginia hospitality. With this view he bethought him of his 
 nephew, Lawrence Lewis, the same who had gained favor with 
 him by volunteering in the Western expedition, and accompanying 
 General Knox as aide-de-camp. Lawrence thenceforward became 
 an occasional inmate at Mount Vernon. The place at this time 
 possessed attractions for gay as well as grave, and was often en- 
 livened by young company. One great attraction was Miss Nelly 
 Custis, Mrs. Washington's grand-daughter, who, with her brother 
 George W. P. Custis, had been adopted by the General at their 
 father's death, when they were quite children, and brought up by 
 him with the most affectionate care. He was fond of children, 
 especially girls ; as to boys, with all his spirit of command, he 
 found them at times somewhat ungovernable. I can govern men, 
 would he say, but I cannot govern boys. Miss Nelly had grown 
 up under the special eye of her grandmother, to whom she was 
 devotedly attached, and who was particular in enforcing her 
 
6i6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 observance of all he-r lessons, as well as instructing her in the arts 
 of housekeeping. She was a great favorite with the General ; 
 whom she delighted with her gay whims and sprightly sallies, often 
 overcoming his habitual gravity, and surprising him into a hearty 
 laugh. She was now maturing into a lovely and attractive woman, 
 and the attention she received began to awaken some solicitude in the 
 General's mind. This is evinced in a half-sportive letter of advice 
 written to her during a temporary absence from Mount Vernon, 
 when she was about to make her first appearance at a ball at 
 Georgetown. It is curious as a specimen of Washington's counsel in 
 love matters. It would appear that Miss Nelly, to allay his solici- 
 tude, had already, in her correspondence, professed "a perfect 
 apathy toward the youth of the present day, and a determination 
 never to give herself a moment's uneasiness on account of any of 
 them." Washington doubted the firmness and constancy of her 
 resolves. " Men and women," writes he, "feel the same incHna- 
 tion towards each other 7iow that they always have done, and 
 which they will continue to do, until there is a new order of things; 
 and you, as others have done, may find that the passions of your 
 sex are easier raised than allayed. Do not, therefore, boast too 
 soon, nor too strongly of your insensibility. Love is said to be an 
 involuntary passion, and it is, therefore, contended that it cannot 
 be resisted. This is true in part only, for like all things else, when 
 nourished and supplied plentifully with aliment, it is rapid in its 
 progress; but let this be withdrawn, and it may be stifled in its birth, 
 or much stinted in its growth. Although we cannot avoid yfrj/ im- 
 pressions, we may assuredly place them under guard. When the 
 fire is beginning to kindle and your heart growing warm, propound 
 these questions to it: — Who is this invader? Have I a competent 
 knowledge of him.? Is he a man of good character? A man of 
 sense ? For, be assured, a sensible woman can never be happy 
 with a fool. What has been his walk in life ? Is his fortune suf- 
 ficient to maintain me in the manner I have been accustomed to 
 live, and as my sisters do live? And is he one to whom my friends 
 can have no reasonable objection? If all these interrogatories can 
 be satisfactorily answered, there will remain but one more to 
 be asked ; that, however, is an important one. Have I sufficient 
 ground to conclude that his affections are engaged by me ? With- 
 out this the heart of sensibility will struggle against a passion that 
 is not reciprocated." The sage counsels of Washington, and the 
 susceptible feehngs of Miss Nelly, were soon brought to the test by 
 the residence of Lawrence Lewis at Mount Vernon. A strong at- 
 tachment for her grew up on his part, or perhaps already existed, 
 and was strengthened by daily intercourse. It was favorably 
 viewed by his uncle. Whether it was fully reciprocated was un- 
 certain. A formidable rival to Lewis appeared in the person of 
 young Carroll of Carrollton, who had just returned from Europe, 
 adorned with the graces of foreign travel, and whose suit was 
 countenanced by Mrs. Washington. These were among the poetic 
 days of Mount Vernon, when its halls echoed to the tread of lovers. 
 They were halcyon days with Miss Nelly, as she herself declared, 
 
1797.] NELL V 'S MOONLIGHl^ RAMBLES. 617 
 
 in after years, to a lady from whom we have the story : " I was 
 young and romantic then," said she, "and fond of wandering 
 alone by moonlight in the woods of Mount Vernon. Grandmamma 
 thought it wrong and unsafe, and scolded and coaxed me into a 
 promise that I would not wander in the woods again unaccom- 
 panied. But I was missing one evening, and was brought home 
 from the interdicted woods to the drawing-room, where the General 
 was walking up and down with his hands behind him, as was his 
 wont. Grandmamma, seated in her great arm-chair, opened a 
 severe reproof." Poor Miss Nelly was reminded of her promise, 
 and taxed with her dehnquency. She knew that she had done 
 wrong — admitted her fault, and essayed no excuse ; but, when 
 there was a slight pause, moved to retire from the room. She was 
 just shutting the door when she overheard the General attempting, . 
 in a low voice, to intercede in her behalf. "My dear," observed 
 he, "I would say more — perhaps she was not alone." His inter- 
 cession stopped Miss Nelly in her retreat. She reopened the door 
 and advanced up to the General with a firm step. "Sir," said she, 
 "you brought me up to speak the truth, and when I told Grand- 
 mamma I was alone, I hope you believed L was alone.'' The Gen- 
 eral made one of his most magnanimous bows. "My child," 
 replied he, "I beg your pardon." We will anticipate dates, and 
 observe that Miss Nelly became the happy wife of Lawrence Lewis. 
 
 Early in the autumn, Washington had been relieved from his 
 constant solicitude about the fortunes of Lafayette. Letters received 
 by George W. Lafayette from friends in Hamburg, informed the 
 youth that his father and family had been liberated from Olmutz 
 and were on their way to Paris, with the intention of embarking 
 for America. George and his tutor, Mr. Frestel, sailed from New 
 York on the 26th of October. Washington writes from Mount 
 Vernon to Lafayette: "This letter, I hope and expect, will be pre- 
 sented to you by your son, who is highly deserving of such parents 
 as you and your amiable lady. He can relate, much better than I 
 can describe, my participation in your sufferings, my sohcitude for 
 your grief; the measures I adopted, though ineffectual, to facilitate 
 your Uberation from an unjust and cruel imprisonment, and the joy 
 I experienced at the news of its accomplishment. I shall hasten, 
 therefore, to congratulate you, and be assured that no one can do 
 it with more cordiality, with more sincerity, or with greater affec- 
 tion, on the restoration of that hberty which every act of your hfe 
 entitles you to the enjoyment of; and I hope I may add, to the un- 
 interrupted possession of your estates, and the confidence of your 
 country." The hberation of the prisoners of Olmutz did not take 
 place until the 19th of September, nor was it until in the following 
 month of February that the happy meeting took place between 
 George and his family, whom he found residing in the chateau of 
 a relative in Holstein. 
 
 Washington had been but a few months at Mount Vernon, when 
 he received intelligence that his successor in office had issued a 
 proclamation for a special session of Congress. He was not long 
 in doubt as to its object. The French government had declared, 
 
6i8 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 on the recall of Mr. Monroe, that it would not receive any new 
 
 minister plenipotentiary from the United States until that power 
 should have redressed the grievances of which the republic had 
 complained. When Mr. Monroe had his audience of leave, Mr. 
 Barras, the president of the Directory, said : "The French Republic 
 hopes that the successors of Columbus, of Raleigh, and of Penn, 
 ever proud of their liberty, will never forget that they owe it to 
 France." A few days afterwards, when Mr. Charles Cotesworth 
 Pinckney presented himself as successor to Mr. Monroe, the 
 Directory refused to receive him, and followed up the indignity by 
 ordering him to leave the territories of the republic. Its next step 
 was to declare applicable to American ships the rules in regard to 
 neutrals, contained in the treaty which Washington had signed 
 with England. 
 
 Congress convened on the 15th of May. Three envoys extraord- 
 inary were appointed to the French republic, viz : Charles Cotes- 
 worth Pinckney, John Marshall, and Elbridge Gerry ; the two 
 former federalists, the latter a democrat. The object of their mis- 
 sion, according to the President, was " to dissipate umbrages, 
 remove prejudices, rectify errors, and adjust all differences by a 
 treaty between the two powers." Washington doubted an adjust- 
 ment of the differences. " Candor," said he, "is not a more con- 
 spicuous trait in the character of governments than it is of individ- 
 uals. It is hardly to be expected, then, that the Directory of 
 France will acknowledge its errors and tread back its steps im- 
 mediately." The three ministers met in Paris on the 4th of Octo- 
 ber, (1797,) but were approached by Talleyrand in a manner 
 which demonstrated that the avenues to justice could only be 
 opened by gold. Talleyrand's agent said, " Gentlemen, you mis- 
 take the point, you say nothing of the money you are to give — you 
 viake no off er of money — on that point you are not cx'P licit.'' "We 
 are explicit enough," rephed the American envoys. "We will not 
 give you one farthing ; and before coming here, we should have 
 thought such an offer as you now propose, would have been 
 regarded as a mortal insult." The envoys remained several 
 months in Paris unaccredited, and finally returned at separate 
 times, without an official discussion of the object of their mission. 
 The Directory enacted a law subjecting to capture and condemna- 
 tion neutral vessels and their cargoes, if any portion of the latter 
 was of British fabric or produce, although the entire property 
 might belong to neutrals. As the United States were at the time 
 the great neutral carriers of the world, this iniquitous decree struck 
 at a vital point in their maritime power. When this act and the 
 degrading treatment of the American envoys became known, the 
 spirit of the nation was aroused, and war with France seemed 
 inevitable. The crisis was at once brought to Washington's own 
 door. "You ought to be aware," writes Hamilton to him, May 
 19th, "that in the event of an open rupture with France, the pub- 
 lic voice will again call you to command the armies of your coun- 
 try ; and though all who are attached to you will deplore an occas- 
 ion which should once more tear you from that repose to which you 
 
i798.] AGAIN COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 619 
 
 have so good a right, yet it is the opinion of all those with whom I 
 converse, that you will be compelled to make the sacrifice. All 
 your past labors may demand, to give them efficacy, this farther, 
 this very great sacrifice." 
 
 The government was resolved upon vigorous measures. Congress 
 on the 28th of May, authorized Mr. Adams to enhst ten thousand 
 men as a provisional army, to be called by him into actual service, 
 in case of hostilities. Adams was perplexed by the belligerent 
 duties thus suddenly devolved upon him. How should he proceed 
 in forming an army ? Should he call on all the old generals who 
 had figured in the revolution, or appoint a young set 1 Washing- 
 ton was nominated to the Senate (July 3d) commander-in-chief of 
 all the armies raised or to be raised. His nomination was unani- 
 mously confirmed on the following day, and the Secretary of War 
 was the bearer of the commission to Mount Vernon, accompanied 
 by a letter from the President. •' The reasons and motives," 
 writes Mr. Adams in his instructions to the Secretary, " which pre- 
 vailed with me to venture upon such a step as the nomination of 
 this great and illustrious character, whose voluntary resignation 
 alone occasioned my introduction to the office I now hold, were too 
 numerous to be detailed in this letter, and are too obvious and 
 important to escape the observation of any part of America or 
 Europe. If the General should dechne the appointment, all the 
 world will be silent and respectfully assent. If he should accept 
 it, all the world, except the enemies of this country, will rejoice." 
 It was with a heavy heart that Washington found his dream of re- 
 pose once more interrupted ; but his strong fidelity to duty would 
 not permit him to hesitate. He accepted the commission, however, 
 with the condition that he should not be called into the field until 
 the army was in a situation to require his presence. He added, in 
 his letter to the President, " I beg it to be understood that I do not 
 mean to withhold any assistance to arrange and organize the army, 
 which you may think I can afford. I take the liberty, also, to men- 
 tion that I must dechne having my acceptance considered as draw- 
 ing after it any immediate charge upon the public ; or that I can 
 receive any emoluments annexed to the appointment before enter- 
 ing into a situation to incur expense." As to the question which 
 had perplexed Mr. Adams whether, in forming the army, to call on 
 all the old generals or appoint a new set, Washington's idea was 
 that, as the armies about to be raised were commencing de novo, 
 the President had the right to make officers of citizens or soldiers 
 at his discretion, availing himself of the best aid the country 
 afforded. In the arrangements made by him with the Secretary of 
 War, Hamilton was to be Inspector-General, and Charles Cotes- 
 worth Pinckney (not yet returned from Europe), and Knox, Major- 
 Generals; in which order he wished their commissions to be dated. 
 The appointment of Hamilton as second in command was desired 
 by the public, on account of his distinguished ability, energy, and 
 fidelity. Pinckney was placed next in rank, not solely on account 
 of his military quahfications, which were great, but of his popular- 
 ity and influence in the Southern States, where his connections were 
 
620 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 numerous and powerful. Thus Hamilton and Pinckney took prec- 
 edence of Knox, an officer whom Washington declared he loved 
 and esteemed ; but he trusted the exigencies of the case would rec- 
 oncile the latter to the position assigned to him. Knox w-rote on 
 the 23d of October to the Secretary of War, declining to serve 
 under Hamilton and Pinckney, on the principle that " no officer can 
 consent to his own degradation by serving in an inferior station." 
 Gen. Pinckney, on the contrary, cheerfully accepted his appoint- 
 ment, although placed under Hamilton, who had been of inferior 
 rank to him in the last war. He regretted that General Knox had 
 declined his appointment, and that his feelings should be hurt by 
 being outranked. " If the authority," adds he, " which appointed 
 me to the rank of second major in the army, will review the 
 arrangement, and place General Knox before me, I will neither quit 
 the service nor be dissatisfied." 
 
 Early in November (1798) Washington repaired to Philadelphia, 
 at the earnest request of the Secretary of War, to meet that public 
 functionary and Major-Generals Hamilton and Pinckney, and make 
 arrangements respecting the forces about to be raised. They were 
 closely engaged for nearly five weeks, at great inconvenience and 
 in a most inclement season. The result of their deliberations was 
 communicated to the Secretary in two letters drafted by Hamilton, 
 and signed by the commander-in-chief. Washington then set out 
 once more for Mount Vernon. 
 
 The nuptials of Lawrence Lewis, Washington's nephew, and 
 IMiss Nellie Custis, were celebrated at Mount Vernon on Washing- 
 ton's birthday, the 22d of February (1799). Lawrence had re- 
 cently received the commission of major of cavalry in the new 
 army which was forming ; and Washington made arrangements for 
 settling the newly married couple near him on a part of Mount 
 Vernon lands, which he had designated in his will to be bequeathed 
 to Miss Nelly. 
 
 The military measures taken in America had produced an effect 
 on French policy. Efforts had been made by M. Talleyrand, 
 through unofficial persons, to induce an amicable overture on the 
 part of the United States. Mr. Adams caught at the chance for 
 an extrication from his belligerent difficulties, and laid this letter 
 before the Senate on the i8th of February, at the same time nom- 
 inating Mr. Murray to be minister plenipotentiary to the French 
 Republic. Oliver Ellsworth and Patrick Henry were associated 
 with him in the mission. The three envoys being confirmed, Mr. 
 MuiTay was instructed by letter to inform the French Minister of 
 Foreign Affairs of the fact, but to apprise him that his associate 
 envoys would not embark for Europe until the Directory had given 
 assurance, through their Minister for Foreign Affairs, that those 
 envoys Avould be received in proper form and treated with on terms 
 of equality. Mr. Henry declined to accept his appointment on 
 account of ill health, and Mr. William Richardson Davie was sub- 
 stituted for him. Washington continued to superintend from a 
 distance the concerns of the army, as his ample and minute cor- 
 respondence manifests; and he was at the same time earnestly 
 
1799.] WASHINGTON'S SUDDEN ILLNESS. 621 
 
 endeavoring to bring the affairs of his rural domain into order. A 
 sixteen years' absence from home, with short intervals, had, he 
 said, deranged them considerably, so that it required all the time 
 he could spare from the usual avocations of life to bring them into 
 tune again. It was a period of incessant activity and toil, there- 
 fore, both mental and bodily. He was for hours in his study occu- 
 pied with his pen, and for hours on horseback, riding the rounds of 
 ^his extensive estate, visiting the various farms, and superintending 
 and directing the works in operation. All this he did with unfail- 
 ing vigor, though now in his sixty-seventh year." Occasional 
 reports of the sanguinary conflict that was going on in Europe 
 would reach him in the quiet groves of Mount Vernon, and awaken 
 his sohcitude. " A more destructive sword," said he, "was never 
 drawn, at least in modern times, than this war has produced. It 
 is time to sheathe it and give peace to mankind." Amid this strife 
 and turmoil of the nations, he felt redoubled anxiety about the 
 success of the mission to France. The commissioners sailed in 
 a frigate from Rhode Island on the 3d of November. 
 
 Winter had now set in, with occasional wind and rain and frost, 
 yet Washington still kept up his active round of in-door and out- 
 door avocations, as his diary records. He was in full health and 
 vigor, dined out occasionally, and had frequent guests at Mount 
 Vernon, and, as usual, was part of every day in the saddle, going 
 the rounds of his estates, and, in his miHtary phraseology, "visiting 
 the outposts." He had recently walked with his favorite nephew 
 about the grounds, showing the improvements he intended to make, 
 and had especially pointed out the spot where he purposed build- 
 ing a new family vault; the old one being damaged by the roots 
 of trees which had overgrown it and caused it to leak. "This 
 change," said he, "I shall make the first of all, for I may require 
 it before the rest." "When I parted from him," adds the neph- 
 ew, "he stood on the steps of the front door. It was a bright 
 frosty morning ; he had taken his usual ride, and the clear healthy 
 flush on his cheek, and his sprightly manner, brought the remark 
 from both of us that we had never seen the General look so well. 
 I have sometimes thought him decidedly the handsomest man I 
 ever saw; and when in a lively mood, so full of pleasantry, so 
 agreeable to all with whom he associated, that I could hardly 
 realize he was the same Washington whose dignity awed all who 
 approached him." 
 
 For some time past Washington had been occupied in digesting 
 a complete system on which his estate was to be managed for 
 several succeeding years ; specifying the cultivation of the several 
 farms, with tables designating the rotations of the crops. It occu- 
 pied thirty foho pages, and was executed with that clearness and 
 method which characterized all his business papers. This was 
 finished on the loth of December, and was accompanied by a 
 letter of that date to his manager or steward. It is a valuable 
 document, showing the soundness and vigor of his intellect at this 
 advanced stage of his existence, and the love of order that reigned 
 throughout his affairs. " My greatest anxiety," said he on a pre- 
 
622 LIFE OF WASHING TON. 
 
 vious occasion, "is to have all these concerns in such a clear and 
 distinct form, that no reproach may attach itself to me when I have 
 taken my departure for the land of spirits." It was evident, how- 
 ever, that full of health and vigor, he looked forward to his long- 
 cherished hope, the enjoyment of a serene old age in this home of 
 his heart. According to his diary, the morning on which these 
 voluminous instructions to his steward were dated was clear and 
 calm, but the afternoon was lowering. The next day (nth) he 
 notes that there was wind and rain, and "at night a large circle 
 round the moonS^ The morning of the I2th was overcast. That 
 morning he wrote a letter to Hamilton, heartily approving of a plan 
 for a miUtary academy, which the latter had submitted to the Sec- 
 retary of War. "The establishment of an institution of this kind 
 upon a respectable and extensive basis," observes he, " has ever 
 been considered by me an object of primary importance to this 
 country; and while I was in the chair of government I omitted no 
 proper opportunity of recommending it in my public speeches and' 
 otherwise, to the attention of the legislature." About ten o'clock 
 he mounted his horse, and rode out as usual to make the rounds 
 of the estate. The ominous ring round the moon, which he had 
 observed on the preceding night, proved a fatal portent. "About 
 one o'clock," he notes, it began to snow, soon after to hail, and 
 then turned to a settled cold rain. Having on an over-coat, he 
 continued his ride without regarding the weather, and did not 
 return to the house until after three. His secretary approached 
 him with letters to be franked, and perceived that snow was hang- 
 ing from his hair, and expressed fears that he had got wet ; but 
 he replied, "No, his great-coat had kept him dry." As dinner 
 had been waiting for him, he sat down to table without changing 
 his dress. " In the evening," writes his secretary, "he appeared 
 as well as usual." On the following morning the snow was three 
 inches deep and still falling, which prevented him from taking his 
 usual ride. He complained of a sore throat, and had evidently 
 taken cold the day before. In the afternoon the weather cleared 
 up, and he went out on the grounds between the house and the 
 river, to mark some trees which were to be cut down. A hoarse- 
 ness which had hung about him through the day grew worse 
 towards night, but he made light of it. He was very cheerful in 
 the evening, as he sat in the parlor with Mrs. Washington and Mr. 
 Lear, amusing himself with the papers which had been brought 
 from the post-office. When he met with anything interesting or 
 entertaining, he would read it aloud as well as his hoarseness would 
 permit, or he listened and made occasional comments, while Mr. 
 Lear read the debates of the Virginia Assembly. On retiring to 
 bed, Mr. Lear suggested that he should take something to relieve 
 the cold. "No," replied he, "you know I never take anything 
 for a cold. Let it go as it came." In the night he was taken 
 extremely ill with ague and difficulty of breathing. Between two 
 and three o'clock in the morning he awoke Mrs. Washington, who 
 would have risen to call a servant ; but he would not permit her, 
 lest she should take cold. At daybreak, Mr. Lear found the gen- 
 
1 799-1 HIS LAST HOURS. 623 
 
 eral breathing with difficulty, and hardly able to utter a word 
 intelligibly. Washington desired that Dr. Craik, who lived in 
 Alexandria, should be sent for, and that in the meantime Rawlins, 
 one of the overseers, should be summoned, to bleed him before 
 the doctor could arrive. A gargle was prepared for his throat, but 
 whenever he attempted to swallow any of it, he was convulsed and 
 almost suffocated, Rawlins made his appearance soon after sun- 
 rise, but when the general's arm was ready for the operation, 
 became agitated. " Don't be afraid," said the general, as well as 
 he could speak, Rawlins made an incision. "The orifice is not 
 large enough," said Washington, The blood, however, ran pretty 
 freely, and Mrs, Washington, uncertain whether the treatment was 
 proper, and fearful that too much blood might be taken, begged 
 Mr. Lear to stop it. When he w^as about to untie the string the 
 general put up his hand to prevent him, and as soon as he could 
 speak, murmured, **more — more ; " but Mrs. Washington's doubts 
 prevailed, and the bleeding was stopped, after about half a pint of 
 blood had been taken. External applications were now made to 
 the throat, and his feet were bathed in warm water, but without 
 affording any relief. His old friend. Dr. Craik, arrived between 
 eight and nine, and two other physicians, Drs. Dick and Brown, 
 were called in. Various remedies were tried, and additional bleeding, 
 but all of no avail. "About half past four o'clock," writes Mr. 
 Lear, "he desired me to call Mrs. Washington to his bedside, when 
 he requested her to go down into his room and take from his desk 
 two wills, which she would find there, and bring them to him, 
 which she did. Upon looking at them, he gave her one, which he 
 observed Avas useless, as being superseded by the other, and 
 desired her to burn it, which she did, and took the other and put 
 it into her closet. After this was done, I returned to his bedside 
 and took his hand. He said to me : ' I find I am going, my breath 
 cannot last long. I believed from the first, that the disorder would 
 prove fatal. Do you arrange and record all my late military 
 letters and papers. Arrange my accounts and settle my books, as 
 you know more about them than any one else ; and let Mr. Raw- 
 lins finish recording my other letters which he has begun.' I told 
 him this should be done. He then asked if I recollected anything 
 which it was essential for him to do, as he had but a very short 
 time to continue with us. I told him that I could recollect noth- 
 ing ; but that I hoped he was not so near his end. He observed, 
 smiling, that he certainly was, and that, as it was the debt \yhich 
 we must all pay, he looked to the event with perfect resignation." 
 In the course of the afternoon he appeared to be in great pain and 
 distress from the difficulty of breathing, and frequently changed 
 his posture in the bed. Mr. Lear endeavored to raise him and 
 turn him with as much ease as possible. "I am afraid I fatigue 
 you too much," the general would say. Upon beiwg assured to 
 the contrary, "Well," observed he gratefully, "it is a debt we 
 must pay to each other and I hope when you want aid of this kmd 
 you will find it." His servant, Christopher, had been in the room 
 durino- the dav, and almost tl>e whole time on his feet. The gen- 
 
624 LIFE 01^' U.x^MIA^TON. 
 
 eral noticed it in the afternoon, and kindly told him to sit down. 
 About five o'clock Dr. Craik came again into the room, and 
 approached the bedside. " Doctor," said the general, " I die hard, 
 but I am not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I 
 should not survive it — my breath cannot last long." The doctor 
 pressed his hand in silence, retired from the bedside, and sat by 
 the fire absorbed in grief. Between five and six the other physi- 
 cians came in, and he Avas assisted to sit up in his bed. "I feel I 
 am going," said he ; "1 thank you for your attentions, but I pray 
 you to take no more trouble about me; let me go off quietly; I 
 cannot last long." He lay down again ; all retired excepting Dr. 
 Craik. The general continued uneasy and restless, but without 
 complaining, frequently asking what hour it was. Further reme- 
 dies were tried without avail in the evening. He took whatever 
 was offered him, did as he was desired by the physicians, and 
 never uttered sigh or complaint. " About ten o'clock," writes Mr. 
 Lear, "he made several attempts to speak to me before he could 
 effect it. At length he said, ' I am just going. Have me decently 
 buried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than 
 three days after I am dead.' I bowed assent, for I could not 
 speak. He then looked at me again and said, ' Do you under- 
 stand me?' I replied, ' Yes.' ' 'Tis well,' said he. About ten min- 
 utes before he expired (which was between ten and eleven o'clock) 
 his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he withdrew his 
 hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance 
 change. I spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came to 
 the bedside. The general's hand fell from his wrist. I took it in 
 mine and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over 
 his eyes, and he expired without a struggle or a sigh. While we 
 were fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington, who was seated at the 
 foot of the bed, asked with a firm and collected voice, ' Is he gone? ' 
 I could not speak, but held up my hand as a signal that he was no 
 more. ''Tis well,' said she in the same voice. 'All is now over; 
 I shall soon follow him ; I have no more trials to pass through.' " 
 We add from Mr. Lear's account a few particulars concerning 
 the funeral. The old family vault on the estate had been opened, 
 the rubbish cleared away, and a door made to close the entrance, 
 which before had been closed with brick. The funeral took place 
 on the 1 8th of December. About eleven o'clock the people of the 
 neighborhood began to assemble. The corporation of Alexandria, 
 with the militia and Free Masons of the place, and eleven pieces 
 of cannon, arrived at a later hour. A schooner was stationed off 
 Mount Vernon to fire minute guns. About three o'clock the pro- 
 cession began to move, passing out through the gate at the left 
 wing of the house, proceeding round in front of the lawn and down 
 to the vault, on the right wing of the house ; minute guns being 
 fired at the time. The troops, horse and foot, formed the escort; 
 then came four of the clergy. Then the general's horse, with his 
 saddle, holsters, and pistols, led by two grooms in black. The 
 body was borne by the Free Masons and officers ; several mem- 
 bers of the family and old friends,, among the number Dr. Craik, 
 
1799.] FIRST IN WAR, FIRST IN PEACE. 625 
 
 and some of the Fairfaxes, followed as chief mourners. The cor- 
 poration of Alexandria and numerous private persons closed the 
 procession. The Rev. Mr. Davis read the funeral service at the 
 vault, and pronounced a short address ; after which the Masons 
 performed their ceremonies, and the body was deposited in the 
 vault. Such were the obsequies of Washington, simple and mod- 
 est, according to his own wishes ; all confined to the grounds of 
 Mount Vernon, which, after forming the poetical dream of his 
 life, had now become his final resting-place. 
 
 On opening the will which he had handed to Mrs. Washington 
 shortly before his death, it was found to have been carefully drawn 
 up by himself in the preceding July; and by an act in conformity 
 with his whole career, one of its first provisions directed the eman- 
 cipation of his slaves on the decease of his wife. It had long been 
 his earnest wish that the slaves held by him in his own right should 
 receive their freedom during his life, but he had found that it would 
 be attended with insuperable difficulties on account of their inter- 
 mixture by marriage with the "dower negroes," whom it was not 
 in his power to manumit under the tenure by which they were 
 held. With provident benignity he also made provision in his will 
 for such as were to receive their freedom under this devise, but 
 who, from age, bodily infirmities, or infancy, might be unable to 
 support themselves, and he expressly forbade, under any pretense 
 whatsoever, the sale or transportation out of Virginia, of any slave 
 of whom he might die possessed. Though born and educated a 
 slave holder, this was all in consonance with feelings, sentiments 
 and principles which he had long entertained. In a letter to Mr. 
 John F. Mercer, in September, 1786, he writes, "I never mean, 
 unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to 
 possess another slave by purchase, it being among my first wishes 
 to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this country may be 
 abohshed by law." And eleven years afterwards, in August, 1797, 
 he writes to his nephew, Lawrence Lewis, in a letter which we 
 have had in our hands, "I wish from my soul that the legislature 
 of this State could see the policy of a gradual abolition of slavery. 
 It might prevent much future mischief." 
 
 A deep sorrow spread over the nation on hearing that Washing- 
 ton was no more. Congress, which was in session, immediately 
 adjourned for the day. The next morning it was resolved that 
 the Speaker's chair be shrouded with black: that the members and 
 officers of the House wear black during the session, and that a 
 joint committee of both Houses be appointed to consider on the 
 most suitable manner of doing honor to the memory of the man, 
 
 " FIRST IN WAR, FIRST IN PEACE, AND FIRST IN THE HEARTS OF 
 HIS FELLOW-CITIZENS." 
 
 PubHc testimonials of grief and reverence were displayed in 
 every part of the Union. Nor were these sentiments confined to 
 the United States. When the news of Washington's death reached 
 England, Lord Bridport, who had command of a British fleet of 
 nearly sixty sail of the line, lying at Torbay, lowered his flag half- 
 mast, every ship following the example ; and Bonaparte, First 
 
626 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Consul of France, on announcing his death to the army, ordered 
 that black crape should be suspended from all the standards and 
 flags throughout the public service for ten days. 
 
 We have traced the career of Washington from early boyhood to 
 his elevation to the presidential chair. It was an elevation he had 
 neither sought nor wished ; for when the independence of his country 
 was achieved, the modest and cherished desire of his heart had been 
 *' to live and die a private citizen on his own farm ; " and he had 
 shaped out for himself an ideal elysium in his beloved shades of 
 Mount Vernon. But power sought him in his retirement. The 
 weight and influence of his name and character were deemed all 
 essential to complete his work ; to set the new government in 
 motion, and conduct it through its first perils and trials. With 
 unfeigned reluctance he complied with the imperative claims of 
 his country, and accepted the power thus urged upon him : advanc- 
 ing to its exercise with diffidence, and aiming to surround himself 
 with men of the highest talent and information whom he might 
 consult in emergency; but firm and strong in the resolve in all 
 things to act as his conscience told him was "right as it respected 
 his God, his country, and himself." For he knew no divided 
 fidelity, no separate obligation; his most sacred duty to himself 
 was his highest duty to his country and his God. In treating of 
 his civil administration we have endeavored to show how truly he 
 adhered to this resolve, and with what inflexible integrity and 
 scrupulous regard to the public weal he discharged his functions. 
 In executing our task, we have not indulged in discussions of 
 Jemporary questions of controverted policy which agitated the 
 incipient establishment of our government, but have given his 
 words and actions as connected with those questions, and as illus- 
 trative of his character. We have avoided rhetorical amplification 
 and embellishments, and all gratuitous assumptions, and have 
 sought by simple and truthful details, to give his character an 
 opportunity of developing itself, and of manifesting those fixed 
 principles and that noble consistency which reigned afike through- 
 out his civil and his military career. 
 
 The character of Washington may want some of those poetical 
 elements which dazzle and delight the multitude, but it possessed 
 fewer inequalities, and a rarer union of virtues than perhaps ever 
 fell to the lot of one man. Prudence, firmness, sagacity, modera- 
 tion, an overruling judgment, an immovable justice, courage that 
 never faltered, patience that never wearied, truth that disdained 
 all artifice, magnanimity without alloy. It seems as if Providence 
 had endowed him in a preeminent degree with the qualities requisite 
 to fit him for the high destiny he was called upon to fulfil — to con- 
 duct a momentous revolution which was to form an era in the his- 
 tory of the world, and to inaugurate a new and untried govern- 
 ment, which, to use his own words, was to lay the foundation " for 
 the enjoyment of much purer civil liberty, and greater public hap- 
 piness, than have hitherto been the portion of mankind." 
 
 The fame of Washington stands apart from every other in his- 
 tory; shining with a truer lustre and a more benignant glory. 
 
1799.] TRIBUTES TO HIS CHARACTER. 627 
 
 With us his memory remains a national property, M'here all sym- 
 pathies throughout our widely-extended and diversified empire 
 meet in unison. Under all dissensions and amid all the storms of 
 party, his precepts and example speak to us from the grave with a 
 paternal appeal; and his name — by all revered — forms a universal 
 tie of brotherhood — a watchword of our Union. '• It will be the 
 duty of the historian and the sage of all nations," writes an emi- 
 nent British statesman, (Lord Brougham,) "to let no occasion pass 
 of commemorating this illustrious man, and until time shall be no 
 more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wis- 
 dom and virtue, be derived from the veneration paid to the 
 
 IMMORTAL NAME OF WASHINGTON." 
 
 TUB bnUi 
 
628 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 WASHINGTON'S FAEEWELL ADDEESS. 
 
 Friends, and Fellow-Citizens: 
 
 The period for a new election of a Citizen, to administer the 
 Executive Government of the United States, being not far distant, 
 and the time actually arrived, when your thoughts must be 
 employed in designating the person, who is to be clothed with that 
 important trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may con- 
 duce to a more distinct expression of the public voice, that I should 
 now apprise you of the resolution I have formed, to decline being 
 considered among the number of those, out of whom a choice is to 
 be made. 
 
 I beg you at the same time, to do me the justice to be assured, 
 that this resolution has not been taken, without a strict regard to 
 all the considerations appertaining to the relation, which binds a 
 dutiful citizen to his country — and that, in withdrawing the tender 
 of service which silence in my situation might imply, I am influ- 
 enced by no diminution of zeal for your future interest, no defic- 
 iency of grateful respect for your past kindness ; but am supported 
 by a full conviction that the step is compatible with both. 
 
 The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in, the office to 
 which your suffrages have twice called me, have been a uniform 
 sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a deference 
 for what appeared to be your desire. I constantly hoped, that it 
 would have been much earlier in my power, consistently with 
 motives which I was not at liberty to disregard, to return to that 
 retirement, from which I had been reluctantly drawn. — The 
 strength of my inclination to do this, previous to the last election, 
 had even led to the preparation of an address to declare it to you ; 
 but mature reflection on the then perplexed and critical posture of 
 affairs with foreign Nations, and the unanimous advice of persons 
 entitled to my confidence impelled me to abandon the idea. 
 
 I rejoice that the state of your concerns, external as well as 
 internal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclination incompatible 
 with the sentiment of duty, or propriety ; and am persuaded what- 
 ever partiality may be retained for my services, that in the present 
 circumstances of our country you will not disapprove my determi- 
 nation to retire. 
 
 The impressions with which I first undertook the arduous trust, 
 were explained on the proper occasion. In the discharge of this 
 trust, I will only say that I have, with good intentions, contributed 
 towards the organization and administration of the government, the 
 best exertions of which a very fallible judgment was capable. Not 
 unconscious, in the outset, of the inferiority of my qualifications, 
 experience in my own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, 
 has strengthened the motives to diffidence of myself ; and every 
 day the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more, 
 
FAREWELL ADDRESS. 629 
 
 that the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will be wel- 
 come. — Satisfied that if any circumstances have given peculiar 
 value to my services, they were temporary, I have the consolation 
 to beheve, that, while choice and prudence invite me to quit the 
 political scene, patriotism does not forbid it. 
 
 In looking forward to the moment, which is intended to termi- 
 nate the career of my public hfe, my feehngs do not permit me to 
 suspend the deep acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which 
 I owe to my beloved country, — for the many honors it has con- 
 ferred upon me ; still more for the steadfast confidence with which 
 it has supported me ; and for the opportunities I have thence 
 enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable attachment, by services faith- 
 ful and persevering, though in usefulness unequal to my zeal. — If 
 benefits have resulted to our country from these services, let it 
 always be remembered to your praise, and as an instructive exam- 
 ple in our annals, that under circumstances in which the Passions, 
 agitated in every direction, were liable to mislead, amidst appear- 
 ances sometimes dubious, vicissitudes of fortune often discourag- 
 ing — in situations in which not unfrequently want of success has 
 countenanced the spirit of criticism, the 'constancy of your support 
 was the essential prop of the efforts and a guarantee of the plans 
 by which they were effected. Profoundly penetrated with this 
 idea, I shall carry it with me to the grave, as a strong incitement 
 to unceasing vows that Heaven may continue to you the choicest 
 tokens of its beneficence — that your union and brotherly affection 
 may be perpetual — that the free constitution, which is the Avork of 
 your hands, may be sacredly maintained — that its administration 
 in every department may be stamped with wisdom and virtue — 
 that, in fine, the happiness of the people of these States, under the 
 auspices of liberty, may be made complete, by so careful a preser- 
 vation and so prudent a use of this blessing as will acquire to them 
 the glory of recommending it to the applause, the affection, and 
 adoption of every nation which is yet a stranger to it. 
 
 Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. — But a solicitude for your wel- 
 fare which cannot end but with my life, and the apprehension of 
 danger, natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occasion like 
 the present, to offer to your solemn contemplation, and to recom- 
 mend to your frequent review, some sentiments which are the 
 result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable observation, and 
 which appear to me all important to the permanency of your felic- 
 ity as a people. — These will be offered to you with the more free- 
 dom, as you can only see in them, the disinterested warnings of a 
 departing friend, who can possibly have no personal motive to bias 
 his counsels. Nor can I forget, as an encouragement to it, your 
 indulgent reception of my sentiments on a former and not dissimi- 
 lar occasion. 
 
 Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your 
 hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify or con- 
 firm the attachment. 
 
 The Unity of Government which constitutes you one people, is 
 also now dear to you. It is justly so ; — for it is a main Pillar in the 
 
630 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Edifice of your real independence ; the support of your tranquility 
 at home ; your peace abroad ; of your safety ; of your prosperity ; 
 of that very Liberty which you so highly prize. But, as it is easy 
 to forsee, that from different causes, and from different quarters, 
 much pains will be taken, many artifices employed, to weaken in 
 your minds the conviction of this truth : — as this is the point in 
 your political fortress against which the batteries of internal and 
 external enemies will be most constantly and actively (though often 
 covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment, that you 
 should properly estimate the immense value of your national Union 
 to your collective and individual happiness ; — that you should 
 cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it, accus- 
 toming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the Palladium of 
 your political safety and prosperity ; watching for its preservation 
 with jealous anxiety ; discountenancing whatever may suggest 
 even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned, and indig- 
 nantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate 
 any portion of our Country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred 
 ties which now link together the various parts. 
 
 For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. — 
 Citizens by birth or choice of a common country, that country has 
 a right to concentrate your affections. The name of American, 
 which belongs to you, in your national capacity, must always exalt 
 the just pride of Patriotism, more than any appellation derived 
 from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you 
 have the same Religion, Manners, Habits and political Principles. 
 — You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together. The 
 Independence and Liberty you possess are the work of joint coun- 
 cils and joint efforts — of common dangers, sufferings and suc- 
 cesses. 
 
 liut these considerations, however powerfully they address them- 
 selves to your sensibility, are greatly outweighed by those which 
 apply more immediately to your Interest. Here every portion of 
 our country finds the most commanding motives for carefully guard- 
 ing and preserving the LTnion of the whole. 
 
 The North in an unrestrained intercourse with the South, pro- 
 tected by the equal Laws of a common government, finds in the 
 productions of the latter great additional resources of maritime and 
 commercial enterprise — and precious materials of manufacturing 
 industry. "Y\\q South ; in the same intercourse benefitting by the 
 agency of the North, sees its agriculture grow and its commerce 
 expand. Turning partly into its own channels the seamen of the 
 North, it finds its particular navigation invigorated ; — and while it 
 contributes, in different ways, to nourish and increase the general 
 mass of the national navigation, it looks forward to the protection 
 of a maritime strength to which itself is unequally adapted. The 
 East, in a like intercourse with the West, already finds, and in the 
 progressive improvement of interior communications, by land and 
 water, will more and more find a valuable vent for the commo- 
 dities which it brings from abroad, or manufactures at home. — The 
 West derives from the East supplies requisite to its growth and 
 
FAREWELL ADDRESS. 631 
 
 comfort, and what is perhaps of still greater consequence, it must 
 of necessity owe the secure enjoyment of indispensable outlets for 
 its own productions to the weight, influence, and the future mari- 
 time strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an 
 indissoluble community of interests as one Nation. Any other ten- 
 ure by which the West can hold this essential advantage, whether 
 derived from its own separate strength or from an apostate and 
 unnatural connection with any foreign Power, must be intrinsically 
 precarious. 
 
 While then, every part of our country thus feels an immediate 
 and particular interest in Union, all the parts combined cannot fail 
 to find in the united mass of means and efforts greater strength, 
 greater resources, propordonably greater security from external 
 danger, a less frequent interruption of their peace by foreign Nations; 
 and what is of inestimable value, they must derive from Union an 
 exemption from those broils and wars between themselves, which 
 so frequently afflict neighboring countries, not tied together by the 
 same government ; which their own rivalships alone would be 
 sufficient to produce ; but which opposite foreign alliances, attach- 
 ments and intrigues would stimulate and embitter. — Hence hkewise 
 they will avoid the necessity of those overgrown Military establish- 
 ments, which under any form of Government are inauspicious to 
 liberty, and which are to be regarded as particularly hostile to 
 Republican Liberty : In this sense it is, that your Union ought to 
 be considered as a main prop of your liberty, and that the love of 
 the one ought to endear to you the preservation of the other. 
 
 These consider?i.tions speak a persuasive language to every reflect- 
 ing and virtuous mind, — and exhibit the continuance of the Union 
 as a primary object of Patriotic desire. — Is there a doubt, whether 
 a common government can embrace so large a sphere ? Let ex- 
 perience solve it. — To listen to mere speculation in such a case 
 were criminal. We are authorized to hope that a proper organiza- 
 tion of the whole, with the auxiliary agency of governments for the 
 respective subdivisions, will afford a happy issue to the experiment. 
 'Tis well worth a fair and full experiment. With such powerful 
 and obvious motives to Union, affecting all parts of our country, 
 while experience shall not have demonstrated its impracticability, 
 there will always be reason to distrust the patriotism of those, who 
 in any quarter may endeavor to weaken its bands. 
 
 In contemplating the causes which may disturb our Union, it oc- 
 curs as matters of serious concern, that any ground should have 
 been furnished for characterizing parties by Geof^raphical discrim- 
 inations — Northern and Southern — Atlantic a.nd IVestern ; whence 
 designing men may endeavor to excite a belief that there is a real 
 difference of local interests and views. One of the expedients of 
 Party to acquire influence, within particular districts, is to misrepre- 
 sent the opinions and aims of other districts. You cannot shield 
 yourselves too much against the jealousies and heartburnings vyhich 
 spring from these misrepresentations. They tend to render alien to 
 each other those who ought to be bound together by fraternal 
 affection. The inhabitants of our Western country have lately 
 
632 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 had a useful lesson on this head. They have seen, in the negotia- 
 tion by the Executive, and in the unanimous ratification by the 
 Senate, of the Treaty with Spain, and in the universal satisfaction 
 at that event, throughout the United States, a decisive proof how 
 unfounded were the suspicions propagated among them of a policy 
 in the General Government and in the Atlantic {States unfriendly to 
 their interests in regard to the Mississippi. They have been wit- 
 nesses to the formation of two Treaties, that with Great Britain, and 
 that with Spain, which secure to them every thing they could 
 desire, in respect to our foreign relations, towards confirming their 
 prosperity. Will it not be their wisdom to rely for the preservation 
 of these advantages on the Union by which they u ere procured ? 
 Will they not henceforth be deaf to those advisers, if such there 
 are, who would sever them from their Brethren, and connect them 
 with Aliens ? 
 
 To the efficacy and permanency of your Union, a Government 
 for the whole is indispensable. No alliances however strict, be- 
 tween the parts, can be an adequate substitute. They must inevit- 
 ably experience the infractions and interruptions which all alliances 
 in all times have experienced. Sensible of this momentous truth, 
 you have improved upon your first essay, by the adoption of a Con- 
 stitution of Government, better calculated than your former for an 
 intimate Union, and for the efficacious management of your com- 
 mon concerns. This government, the offspring of our own choice, 
 uninfluenced and unawed, adopted upon full investigation and 
 mature deliberation, completely free in its principles, in the dis- 
 tribution of its powers, uniting security with energy, and containing 
 within itself a provision for its own amendment, has a just claim to 
 your confidence and your support. Respect for its authority, 
 compliance with its Laws, acquiesence in its measures, are duties 
 enjoined by the fundamental maxims of true Liberty. The basis 
 of our political systems is the right of the people to make and to 
 alter their Constitutions of Government. But the Constitution 
 which at any time exists, 'till changed by an exphcit and authentic 
 act of the whole People, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The very 
 idea of the power and the right of the People to established Gov- 
 ernment, presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the 
 established Government. 
 
 All obstructions to the execution of the Laws, all combinations 
 and associations, under whatever plausible character, with the real 
 design to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular delibera- 
 tion and action of the constituted authorities, are destructive of 
 this fundamental principle, and of fatal tendency. They serve to 
 organize faction, to give it an artificial and extraordinary force — to 
 put, in the place of the delegated will of the Nation, the will of a 
 party; — often a small but artful and enterprising minority of the 
 community; — and, according to the alternate triumphs of different 
 parties, to make the pubhc administration the mirror of the ill-con- 
 certed and incongruous projects of faction, rather than the organ 
 of consistent and wholesome plans, digested by common councils 
 and modified by mutual interest. However combinations or asso- 
 
FAREWELL ADDRESS, 633 
 
 ciations of the above description may now and then answer popular 
 ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, to become 
 potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious and unprincipled men 
 will be enabled to subvert the power of the People, and to usurp 
 for themselves the reins of Government ; destroying afterwards the 
 very engines which have hfted them to unjust dominion. 
 
 Towards the preservation of your Government and the perman- 
 ency of your present happy state, it is requisite, not only that you 
 steadily discountenance irregular opposiuon to its acknoAvledged 
 authority, but also that you resist with care the spirit of innovation 
 upon its principles, however specious the pretexts. One method of 
 assault may be to effect, in the forms of the Constitution, altera- 
 tions which will impair the energy of the system, and thus to under- 
 mine what cannot be directly overthrown. In all the changes to 
 which you may be invited, remember that time and habit are at 
 least as necessary to fix the true character of Governments, as of 
 other human institutions — that experience is the surest standard, 
 by which to test the real tendency of the existing Constitution of a 
 Country — that facility in changes upon the credit of mere hypoth- 
 esis and opinion exposes to perpetual change, from the endless 
 variety of hypothesis and opinion : — and remember, especially, that 
 for the efficient management of your common interests in a country 
 so extensive as ours, a Government of as much vigor as is con- 
 sistent with the perfect security of Liberty is indispensable. — Lib- 
 erty itself will find in such a Government, with powers properly 
 distributed and adjusted, its surest guardian. It is indeed little 
 else than a name, where the Government is too feeble to withstand 
 the enterprises of faction, to confine each member of the Society 
 within the limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in 
 the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and 
 property. 
 
 1 have already intimated to you the danger of Parties in the 
 State, with particular reference to the founding of them on Geo- 
 graphical discriminations. Let me now take a more comprehensive 
 view, and warn you in the most solemn manner against the bane- 
 ful effects of the spirit of Party, generally. 
 
 This Spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having 
 its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists 
 under different shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, con- 
 trolled or repressed ; but in those of the popular form it is seen in 
 its greatest rankness, and is truly their worst enemy. 
 
 The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened 
 by the spirit of revenge natural to party dissension, which in differ- 
 rent ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, 
 is itself a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more 
 formal and permanent despotism. The disorders and miseries, 
 which result, gradually inchne the minds of men to seek security 
 and repose in the absolute power of an Individual : and sooner or 
 later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortu- 
 nate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of 
 his own elevation, on the ruins of Public Liberty. 
 
634 APPENDJX.—LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Without looking forward to an extremity of this kind, (which 
 nevertheless ought not to be entirely out of sight), the common and 
 continual mischiefs of the spirit of Party are sufficient to make it 
 the interest and the duty of a wise People tc discourage and restrain 
 it. It serves always to distract the Public Councils and enfeeble 
 the Public administration. It agitates the community with ill- 
 founded jealousies and false alarms, kindles the animosity of one 
 part against another, foments occasionally riot and insurrection. It 
 opens the door to foreign influence and corruption, which find a 
 faciliated access to the Government itself through the channels of 
 party passions. Thus, the policy and the will of one country, are 
 subjected to the policy and will of another. 
 
 There is an opinion that parties in free countries are useful checks 
 upon the Administration of the Government, and serve to keep 
 alive the Spirit of Liberty. This within certain limits is probably 
 true — and in Governments of a Monarchical cast. Patriotism may- 
 look with indulgence, if not with favor, upon the spirit of party. 
 But in those of the popular character, in Governments purely 
 elective, it is a spirit not to be encouraged. From their natural 
 tendency, it is certain there will always be enough of that spirit for 
 every salutary purpose, — and there being constant danger of excess, 
 the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to mitigate and 
 assuage it, A fire not to be quenched ; it demands a uniform 
 vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead of wann- 
 ing, it should consume. 
 
 It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free 
 country should inspire caution in those entrusted with its adminis- 
 tration, to confine themselves within their respective constitutional 
 spheres ; avoiding in the exercise of the powers of one department 
 to encroach upon another. The spirit of encroachment tends to 
 consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to 
 create, whatever the form of government, a real despotism. A 
 just estimate of that love of power, and proneness to abuse it, 
 •which predominates in the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy us 
 of the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal checks in 
 the exercise of political power, by dividing and distributing it into 
 different depositories, and constituting each the Guardian of the 
 Public Weal against invasions by the others, has been evinced by 
 experiments ancient and modern ; some of them in our country 
 and under our own eyes. To preserve them must be as necessary 
 as to institute them. If in the opinion of the People, the distribu- 
 tion or modification of the Constitutional powers be in any particu- 
 lar wTong, let it be corrected by an amendment in the way which 
 the Constitution designates. But let there be no change by usur- 
 pation ; for though this, in one instance, may be the instrument of 
 good, it is the customary weapon by which free governments are 
 destroyed. The precedent must always greatly overbalance in 
 permanent evil any partial or transient benefit which the use can 
 at any time yield. 
 
 Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosper- 
 ity, Religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain 
 
FAREWELL ADDRESS. 
 
 63s 
 
 would that man claim the tribute of Patriotism, who should labor 
 to subvert these great Pillars of human happiness, these firmest 
 props of the duties of Men and Citizens. The mere Politician, 
 equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them! 
 A volume could not trace all their connections with private and 
 pubhc felicity. Let it simply be asked where is the security for 
 property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation 
 desert the oaths, which are the instruments of investigation in 
 Courts of Justice ? And let us with caution indulge the supposition, 
 that morality can be maintained w^ithout religion. Whatever may 
 be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of 
 peculiar structure — reason and experience both forbid us to expect 
 that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle. 
 It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring 
 of popular government. The rule indeed extends with more or less 
 force to every species of Free Government. Who that is a sincere 
 friend to it, can look with indifference upon attempts to shake the 
 foundation of the fabric ? 
 
 Promote then as an object of primary importance, institutions for 
 the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure 
 of a government gives force to public opinion, it is essential that 
 public opinion should be enlightened. 
 
 As a very important source of strength and security, cherish 
 public credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as sparingly 
 as possible: — avoiding occasions of expense by cultivating peace, 
 but remembering also that timely disbursements to prepare for 
 danger frequently prevent much greater disbursements to repel it — ■ 
 avoiding likewise the accumulation of debt, not only by shunning 
 occasions of expense, but by vigorous exertions in time of Peace to 
 discharge the debts which unavoidable wars may have occasioned, 
 not ungenerously throwing upon posterity the burthen which we 
 ourselves ought to bear. The execution of these maxims belongs 
 to your Representatives, but it is necessary that public opinion 
 should cooperate. To facilitate to them the performance of their 
 duty, it is essential that you should practically bear in mind, that 
 towards the payment of debts there must be Revenue — that to have 
 Revenue there must be taxes — that no t«ces can be devised which 
 are not more or less inconvenient and unpleasant — that the intrinsic 
 embarrassment inseparable from the selection of the proper objects 
 (which is always a choice of difficulties) ought to be a decisive 
 motive for a candid construction of the conduct of the Govern- 
 ment in making it, and for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures 
 for obtaining Revenue which the public exigences may at any time 
 dictate. 
 
 Observe good faith and justice towards all Nations. Cultivate 
 peace and harmony with all. Religion and morality enjoin this 
 conduct ; and can it be that good policy does not equally enjoin 
 it? It will be worthy of a free, enlightened, and, at no distant 
 period, a great nation, to give to mankind a magnanimous and too 
 novel example of a People always guided by an exalted justice and 
 benevolence. Who can doubt that in the course of time and 
 
636 APPENDIX.— LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 things, the fruits of such a plan would richly repay any temporary 
 advantages which might be lost by a steady adherence to it? Can 
 it be, that Providence has not connected the permanent felicity of 
 a Nation with its virtue? The experiment, at least, is recom- 
 mended by every sentiment which ennobles human nature. Alas ! 
 is it rendered impossible by its vices ? 
 
 In the execution of such a plan nothing is more essential than 
 that permanent, inveterate antipathies against particular nations 
 and passionate attachments for others should be excluded ; and 
 that in place of them just and amicable feehngs towards all should 
 be cultivated. The Nation, which indulges towards another an 
 habitual hatred or an habitual fondness, is in some degree a slave. 
 It is a slave to its animosity or to its affecdon, either of which is 
 sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interests, Antipa- 
 thy in one nation against another disposes each more readily to 
 offer insult to injury, to lay hold of slight causes of umbrage, and 
 to be haughty and intractable, when accidental or trifling occasions 
 of dispute occur. Hence frequent collisions, obstinate, envenomed 
 and bloody contests. The Nation prompted by ill-will and resent- 
 ment sometimes impels to War the Government, contrary to the 
 best calculations of policy. The Government sometimes partici- 
 pates in the national propensity, and adopts through passion what 
 reason would reject ; — at otlter tmies, it makes the animosity of the 
 Nation subservient to projects of hostility instigated by pride, 
 ambition, and other sinister and pernicious motives. The peace 
 often, someUmes perhaps the Liberty, of Nations has been the 
 victim. So likewise a passionate attachment of one Nadon for 
 another produces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favorite 
 nation, facihtating the illusion of an imaginary common interest in 
 cases where no real common interest exists, and infusing into one 
 the enmities of the other, betrays the former into a participation in 
 the quarrels and wars of the latter, without adequate inducement 
 or justification : It leads also to concessions to the favorite Nation 
 of privileges denied to others, which is apt doubly to injure the 
 Nation making the concessions ; by unnecessarily parting with 
 what ought to be retained, and by exciting jealousy, ill-will, and a 
 disposition to retaliate i% the parties from whom equal privileges 
 are withheld ; and it gives to ambitious, corrupted, or deluded cid- 
 zens who devote themselves to the favorite Nation, facility to 
 betray, or sacrifice the interests of their own country without 
 odium, sometimes even with popularity : — gilding with the appear- 
 ances of a virtuous sense of obligation, a commendable deference 
 for public opinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the base or 
 foolish compliances of ambition, corruption or infatuation. As 
 avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such attach- 
 ments are particularly alarming to the truly enlightened and inde- 
 pendent patriot. How many opportunities do they afford to tam- 
 per with domestic facdons, to pracdce the arts of seducdon, to 
 mislead public opinion, to influence or awe the public councils 1 
 Such an attachment of a small or weak, towards a powerful nation, 
 dooms the former to be the satellite of the latter. 
 
FAREWELL ADDRESS. 637 
 
 Against the insidious wiles of foreign i»fliTence, I conjure you ta 
 believe me, fellow citizens, the jealousy of a free people ought to be 
 constantly awake, since history and experience prove that foreign 
 influence is one of the most baneful foes of Republican Govern- 
 ment. 13ut that jealousy to be useful must be impartial ; else it 
 becomes the instrument of the very influence to be avoided, instead 
 of a defence against it. Excessive partiality for one foreign nation 
 and excessive dislike of another, cause those whom they actuate to 
 see danger only on one side, and to serve to veil and even second 
 the arts of influence on the other. Real Patriots, who may resist 
 the intrigues of the favorite, are hable to become suspected and 
 odious ; while its tools and dupes usurp the applause and confidence 
 of the people, to surrender their interests. The great rule of con- 
 duct for us, in regard to foreign Nations is, in extending our com- 
 mercial relations, to have with them as little /'(?////r«/ connection as 
 possible. So far as we have already formed engagements let them' 
 be fufilled with perfect good faith. Here let us stop. 
 
 Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none, or 
 a very remote relation. — Hence she must be engaged in frequent 
 controversies, the causes of which are essentially foreign to our 
 concerns. Hence therefore it must be unwise in us to implicate our- 
 selves by artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her politics, 
 or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her friendships, or 
 enmities. Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us 
 to pursue a different course. If we remain one People, under an 
 efficient government, the period is not far off, when we may defy 
 material injury from external annoyance; when we may take such 
 an attitude as will cause the neutrality we may at any time resolve 
 upon to be scrupulously respected. When belligerent nations, 
 under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon us, will not 
 lightly hazard the giving us provocation ; when we may choose 
 peace or war,as our interest guided by justice shall counsef. 
 
 Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation ? Why quit 
 our own to stand upon foreign ground ? Why, by interweaving 
 our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace 
 and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, 
 1-umor or caprice ? 'Tis our true poHcy to steer clear of permanent 
 alliances with any portion of the foreign world ; — so fa'r, I mean, 
 as we are now at liberty to do it — for let me not be understood as 
 capable of patronizing infidelity to existing engagements. I hold 
 the maxim no less applicable to public than to private affairs that 
 honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it therefore, let those 
 engagements be observed in their genuine sense. But in my 
 opinion it is unnecessary and would be unwise to extend them. ^ 
 
 Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable establish- 
 ments, on a respectably defensive posture, we may safely trust to 
 temporary £illiances for extraordinary emergencies. 
 
 Harmony, liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended 
 by policy, humanity and interest. But even our commercial policy 
 should hold an equal and impartial hand :— neither seeking nor 
 granting exclusive favors or preferences ;— consulting the natural 
 
638 APPEND IX.—LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 course of things ; — diffusing and diversifying by gentle means the 
 streams of commerce, but forcing nothing; — establishing with 
 powers so disposed — in order to give to trade a stable course, to 
 define the rights of our Merchants and to enable the government 
 to support them — conventional rules of intercourse, the best that 
 present circumstances and mutual opinion will permit ; but tem- 
 porary, and liable to be from time to time abandoned or varied, as 
 experience and circumstances shall dictate ; constantly keeping in 
 view, that 'tis folly in one nation to look for disinterested favors 
 from another, — that it must pay with a portion of its independence 
 for whatever it may accept under that character — that by such 
 acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of having given 
 equivalents for nominal favors and yet of being reproached with 
 ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater error 
 than to expect, or calculate upon real favors from Nation to Nation. 
 'Tis an illusion which experience must cure, which a just pride 
 ought to discard. 
 
 in offering to you, my Countrymen, these counsels of an old and 
 affectionate friend, I dare not hope that they will make the strong 
 and lasting impression, I could wish; that they will control the usual 
 current of the passions, or prevent our Nation from running the 
 course which has hitherto marked the destiny of Nations. But if 
 I may even flatter myself, that they may be productive of some 
 partial benefit ; some occasional good ; that they may now and 
 then recur to moderate the fury of party spirit, to warn against the 
 mischiefs of foreign intrigue, to guard agajnst the impostures of 
 pretended patriotism, this hope will be a full recompense for the 
 solicitude for your welfare, by which they have been dictated. 
 
 How far in the discharge of my official duties, I have been 
 guided by the principles whidi have been delineated, the public 
 Records and other evidences of my conduct must witness to You, 
 and to the World. To myself, the assurance of my own conscience 
 is, that I have at least believed myself to be guided by them. 
 
 In relation to the still subsisting War in Europe, my Proclamation 
 of the 22d of April, 1793, is the index to my plan. Sanctioned by 
 your approving voice and by that of your Representatives in both 
 Houses of Congress, the spirit of that measure has continually 
 governed me : — uninfluenced by any attempts to deter or divert 
 me from it. After deliberate examination with the aid of the best 
 lights I could obtain, I was well satisfied that our country, under 
 all the circumstances of the case, had a right to take, and was 
 bound in duty and interest, to take a Neutral position. Having 
 taken it, I determined, as far as should depend upon me, to 
 maintain it, with moderation, perseverance and firmness. 
 
 The considerations which respect the right to hold this conduct, 
 it is not necessary on this occasion to detail. I will only observe, 
 that according to my understanding of the matter, that right, so far 
 from being denied by any of the Belligerent Powers, has been 
 virtually admitted by all. The duty of holding a neutral conduct 
 may be inferred, without anything more, from the obhgation which 
 justice and humanity impose on every Nation, in cases in which it 
 
FAREWELL ADDRESS. 639 
 
 is free to act, to maintain inviolate the relations of Peace and 
 Amity towards other Nations. The inducements of interest for 
 observing that conduct will best be referred to your own reflections 
 and experience. With me, a predominant motive has been to 
 endeavor to gain time to our country to settle and mature its yet 
 recent institutions, and to progress without interruption to that 
 degree of strength and consistency, which is necessary to give it, 
 numanly speaking, the command of its own fortunes. 
 
 Though in reviewing the incidents of my Administration, I am 
 unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of 
 my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed 
 many errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the 
 Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I 
 shall also carry with me the hope that my country will never cease 
 to view them with indulgence ; and that after forty-five years of 
 my life dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the faults of 
 incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must 
 soon be to the mansion of rest. 
 
 Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actuated 
 by tliat fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man, who 
 views in it the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several 
 generations ; I anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat, in 
 which I promise myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoy- 
 ment of partaking, in the midst of my fellow citizens, the benign 
 influence of good Laws under a free Government, — the ever favorite 
 object of my heart, and the happy reward, as I trust, of our mutual 
 cares, labors and dangers. George Washington. 
 
 United States, 
 igth September^ 
 
 1 1796. 
 
 II. 
 
 SPEECH OF JOHN MARSHALL IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, 
 AND RESOLUTIONS ADOPTED BY THE HOUSE, DEC. I9TH, 1 799. 
 
 Mr. Speaker : The melancholy event, which was yesterday an- 
 nounced with doubt, has been rendered but too certain. Our 
 Washington is no more ! The hero, the patriot, and the sage of 
 America ; the man on whom in times of danger every eye was 
 turned, and all hopes were placed, lives now only in his own great 
 actions, and in the hearts of an affectionate and afflicted people. 
 
 If, Sir, it had even not been usual openly to testify respect for 
 the memory of those whom heaven has selected as its instruments' 
 for dispensing good to man, yet such has been the uncommon 
 worth, and such the extraordinary incidents, which have marked 
 the hfe of him whose loss we all deplore, that the whole American 
 nation, impelled by the same feelings, would call with one voice 
 for a pubUc manifestation of that sorrow, which is so deep and so 
 universal. 
 
 More than any other individual, and as much as to one indi- 
 vidual was possible, has he contributed to found this our wide- 
 
640 APPENDIX.—LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 spreading empire, and to give to the western world independence 
 and freedom. 
 
 Having effected the great object for which he was placed at the 
 head of our armies, we have seen him convert the sword into the 
 ploughshare, and sink the soldier in the citizen. 
 
 When the debility of our federal system had become man if est. and the bonds 
 wliich connected this vast coathient were dissolving, we have seen him the 
 chief of those patriots who formed forns a constitution, which, by preserving 
 tiie union, will, I trust, substantiate and perpetuate those blessings which our 
 Revolution had promised to bestow. 
 
 In obedience to tiie general voice of his country, calling him to preside over 
 a great people, we have seen him once more quit the retirement he loved, and, 
 in a season more stormy and tempestuous than war Itself, with calm and wise 
 determination pursue the true interests of the nation, and contribute, more 
 than any other could contribute, to the establishment oi that system ot policy, 
 which will, I trust, yet preserve our peace, our honor, and our independence. 
 
 Having been t\vice unanimously chosen the chief magistrate of a free 
 people, we have seen him, at a time when his reelection with universal suf- 
 frage could not be doubted, afford to the world a rare instance of moderation 
 by withdrawing from his station to the peaceful walks of private lite. 
 
 However the public confidence may change, and public alTections fluctuate 
 with respect to otliers, with respect to him they have. In war and in peace, in 
 public and in private life, been as steady as "his own firm miud, and as con- 
 stant as his own exalted virtues. 
 
 Let us tlien, Mr. Speaker, pay the last tribute of respect and affection to obr 
 departed friend. Letthe grand council of the nation display those sentiments 
 wliich the nation feels. >or this purpose I hold in my hand some resolutions, 
 which I take the liberty of offering to the House. 
 
 Resolved, That this House will wait on the Fresident.in condolence of this 
 mournful event. 
 
 Resolvedy Tliat the Speaker's chair be shrouded with black, and that the 
 members and officers of the House wear black during the session. 
 
 Resolved, That a connnittee, in conjunction with one from the Senate, be 
 appointed to consider on the most suitable manner of paying honor to the 
 memory of the man, first in war, first in peace, and first in tse hearts 
 
 OF HIS FELLOW-CITIZENS. 
 
 LETTER FROK THE SENATE TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 23 December, 1799. 
 
 Sir : Tlie Senate of the United States respectfully take leave to express to 
 you their deep regret for tlie loss their country sustains in the death of Gen- 
 eral George Washington. 
 
 This event, so distressing to all our fellow-citizens, must be peculiarly 
 heavy to you, who have long been associated with him in deeds of patriotism. 
 Permit us, Sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On this occasion it is manly 
 to weep. To lose such a man, at such a crisis, is no commf)n calamity to the 
 world. Our country mourns a father. The Almighty Disposer of humau 
 events has taken fi»om us our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes 
 us to submit with reverence to him "who maketh darkness his pavilion." 
 
 With patriotic pride we review the life of our Washington, and compare him 
 with those of other countries who have been pre-eminent in fame. Ancient 
 and modern times are diminished before him. Greatness and guilt have too 
 often been allied ; but his fame is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers 
 of nations stood abashed at the majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intem- 
 perance of their ambition, and darkened the splendor of victory. The scene 
 IS closed and we are no longer anxious lest misfortune should sully his glory; 
 he has travelled on to the end of his journey, and carried with him an increas- 
 ing weight of honor; he has deposited it safely, where misfortune cannot 
 tarnish it, wliere malice cannot blast it. Favored of Heaven, he departed 
 Avithout exhibiting the weakness of humanity. Magnanimous in death, the 
 darkness of the grave could not obscure his brightness. 
 
 Suoh was the man whom we deplore. Thanksto Cod, his glory is consum- 
 mated. Washington yet lives on earth in his spotless example ; his spirit is in 
 Heaven. 
 
 Let his countrymen consecrate the memory of the heroic general, the 
 patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let them teach their children 
 never to forget, that the fruits of his labors and his example are their 
 inheritance. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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