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NCINNATU

PA

LIFE AND TIMES

OF

WASHINGTON:

CONTAINING A

PAKTICULAK ACCOUNT

or

NATIONAL PRINCIPLES AND EYENTS,

AND OF THE ILLUSTRIOUS

MEN OF THE REVOLUTION.

BY JOHN FREDERICK SCHROEDER, D.D.,
LUTHOB OF "MAXIMS OF WASHINGTON, COLLECTED AND ARRANGED."

Posfottir toitjf &ij$Ig-;te^;& 3Ud inplrinp,
FEOM OBIGINAL DESIGNS OF HISTOEICAL SCENES, AND FULL-LENGTH POETEAITS.
BY ALONZO CHAPPEL.
VOL. II
NEW YORK:
JOHNSON, FRY, AND COMPANY,
27 BE EKM AN-STBEE T.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, by
, JOHNSON, FEY & COMPANY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York.

CHAPTER XIV.
1778.
MONMOUTH.
Force of the American and British armies at the opening of the campaign of 1778. — British army in Philadelphia
straitened for forage and provisions. — Mawhood's foraging excursion into Jersey. — Skirmish of Lacey with the
British. — The British shipping in the Delaware. — Lafayette's admirable retreat from Barren Hill. — Howe resigns
his command and is succeeded by Clinton. — The Mischianza. — Howe's operations in his command considered. — ¦
Reasons for the evacuation of Philadelphia. — Washington's preparations to attack the retiring army. — Maxwell
and Dickinson sent to break down bridges and fell trees across the roads in Jersey. — Washington summons a
Council of War. — Lee opposed to attacking the British at all in their retreat. — Clinton crosses the Delaware and
begins his march across Jersey. — His slow march. — Washington leaves Valley Forge and pursues Clinton. — Takes
post at Hopewell. — Second Council of War. — Washington determines to fight. — Lafayette sent in advance. — Lee
sent to take the command of the advance party which he had declined. — Clinton at Freehold Court House. — Lee
ordered to attack him. — Clinton's movements. — Lee orders a retreat. — Washington meets him. — Sharp words. —
Battle of Monmouth.— The British army suffer the greater loss of men. — They retreat hastily in the night. — Com
ments on the battle. — Its moral eifect favorable to the American cause. — Lee's conduct. — His insolent letter to
Washington. — He is arrested and tried by court-martial. — Found guilty of all the charges and suspended from
command for one year. — The army well pleased with this decision. — They resent his insolence to Washington. —
Congress passes a vote of thanks to Washington for his conduct at Monmouth. — Clinton passes over to New
York. — Washington advances to Brunswick and passes thence to Paramus.

Foe prosecuting the campaign of 17*78
Washington had not been provided with
an adequate force. The committee of
Congress who visited the army at Valley
Forge had agreed that the army should
consist of about forty thousand men, be
sides artillery and horse. In May, the
army, including the detachments
at different places, was found to
amount only to fifteen thousand, with
little prospect of increase. At Valley
Forge, Washington had eleven thousand
eight hundred. The British army at
this time numbered thirty-three thou
sand. With such odds, the plan of op-
Vol. II. -2

1TT8.

erations for this season must necessarily
be defensive.
From the position which Washington
had taken at Valley Forge, and from
the activity and vigilance of his pa
trols, the British army in Philadelphia
was straitened for forage and fresh pro
visions. A considerable number of the
people of Pennsylvania were well affect
ed to the British cause, and desirous of
supplying the troops, while many more
were willing to carry victuals to Phila
delphia, where they found a ready mar
ket, and payment in gold or silver ;
whereas the army at Valley Forge could

10

LIFE AND TIMES OP WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

pay only in paper money of uncertain
value. But it was not easy to reach
Philadelphia, nor safe to attempt it ; for
the American parties often intercepted
and took the provisions without pay
ment, and not unfrequently chastised
those engaged. The first operations
on the part of the British, therefore, in
the campaign of 17*78, were undertaken
in order to procure supplies for the
army. About the middle of March, a
strong detachment, under Lieutenant-
colonel Mawhood, made a foraging ex
cursion, for six or seven days, into Jer
sey, surprised and defeated the Amer
ican parties at Hancock's and Quinton's
bridges, on Always Creek, which falls
into the Delaware to the south of Reedy
Island, killed or took fifty or sixty of
the militia prisoners, and, after a suc
cessful expedition, returned to Phila
delphia with little loss.
A corps of Pennsylvania militia, daily
varying in number, sometimes not ex
ceeding fifty, sometimes amounting to
six hundred, under General Lacey,* had
taken post at a place called Crooked
Billet, about seventeen miles from Phil
adelphia, on the road to New York,
for the purpose of intercepting the
country people who attempted to carry
provisions to the British army. Early
on the morning of the 4th of May,
Colonel Abercrombie and Major Sim-
coe, with a strong detachment, attempt
ed to surprise this party; but Lacey
escaped with little loss, except his bag
's See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

gage, which fell into the hands of the
enemy. On the seventh of May, the British
undertook an expedition against the
galleys and other shipping which had
escaped up the Delaware, after the re
duction of Mud Island, and destroyed
upwards of forty vessels, and some stores
and provisions. The undisputed supe
riority of the British naval force, and
the consequent command of the Dela
ware, gave them great facilities in di
recting a suitable armament against any
particular point ; and the movements of
the militia, on whom Congress chiefly
depended for repelling sudden preda
tory incursions, and for guarding the
roads to Philadelphia, were often tardy
and inefficient. The roads were ill guard
ed; and the British frequently accom
plished their foraging and returned to
camp before an adequate force could
be assembled to oppose them.
To remedy these evils — to annoy the
rear of the British troops, in case they
evacuated Philadelphia, which it was
now suspected they intended to do, and
also to form an advanced guard of the
main army — Lafayette, with upwards of
two thousand chosen men, and six pieces
of artillery, was ordered to the east of
the Schuylkill, and took post on Barren
Hill, seven or eight miles in advance of
the army at Valley Forge. Sir William
Howe immediately got notice of his posi
tion, and formed a plan to surprise and
cut him off. For that purpose, a detach
ment of five thousand of the best troops
of the British army, under General

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

11

Grant, marched from Philadelphia on
the night of the 20th of May, and took
the road which runs along the Dela
ware, and consequently does not lead
directly to Barren Hill. But, after ad
vancing a few miles, the detachment
turned to the left, and, proceeding by
White Marsh, passed at no great dis
tance from Lafayette's left flank, and
about sunrise reached a point in his
rear, where two roads diverged, one
leading to the camp of the marquis, the
other to Matson's Ford, each about a
mile distant. There General Grant's
detachment was first observed by the
Americans ; and the British perceived,
by the rapid movements of some hostile
horsemen, that they were seen. Both
Lafayette's camp, and the road leading
from it to Matson's Ford, were con
cealed from the British troops by inter
vening woods and high grounds. Gen
eral Grant spent some time in making
dispositions for the intended attack.
That interval was actively improved by
Lafayette, who, although not apprised
of the fall extent of his danger, acted
witk promptitude and decision. He
marched rapidly to Matson's Ford, from
which he was somewhat more distant
than the British detachment, and reached
it while General Grant was advancing
against Barren Hill, in the belief that
Lafayette was still there. The Amer
icans hurried through the ford, leaving
their artillery behind ; but, on discover
ing that they were not closely pursued,
some of them returned and dragged the
field-pieces across the river: a small

party was also sent into the woods to
retard the progress of the British ad
vanced guard, if it should approach
while the artillery was in the ford.
On finding the camp at Barren Hill
deserted, General Grant immediately
pursued in the track of the retreating
enemy, towards Matson's Ford. His ad
vanced guard overtook some of the
small American party, which had been
sent back to cover the passage of the
artillery, before they could recross the
river, and took or killed a few of them ;
but on reaching the ford General Grant
found Lafayette so advantageously post
ed on the rising ground on the opposite
bank, and his artillery so judiciously
placed, that it was deemed unadvisable
to attack him. Thus the attempt against
Lafayette failed, although the plan was
well concerted, and on the very point
of success. In the British army san
guine expectations of the favorable issue
of the enterprise were entertained ; and
in order to insure a happy result, a large
detachment under General Grey, in the
course of the night, took post at a ford
of the Schuylkill, two or three miles in
front of Lafayette's right flank, to in
tercept him, if he should attempt to es
cape in that direction, while the main
body of the army advanced to Chesnut
Hill to support the attack ; but on the
failure of the enterprise the whole re
turned to Philadelphia.
General Grant's detachment was seen
by Washington from the camp at Valley
Forge about the time it was discovered
by the troops at Barren hill: alarm-

12

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

guns were fired by his order to warn
Lafayette of his danger ; and the whole
army was drawn out, to be in readiness
to act as circumstances might require.
The escape of the detachment was the
cause of much joy and congratulation in
the American, and of disappointment
and chagrin in the British, army.
That a strong detachment of hostile
troops should pass at a small distance
from Lafayette's flank, and gain his rear
unobserved, seems to argue a want of
due vigilance on the part of that officer ;
but a detachment of the Pennsylvania
militia had been posted at a little dis
tance on his left, and he relied on them
for watching the roads in that quarter.
The militia, however, had quitted their
station, without informing him of their
movement ; and consequently his left
flank, and the roads about White Marsh,

remained unguarded.

This was the last enterprise attempted
by Sir William Howe. Soon after, he
resigned the command of the army. So
far back as the month of October in the
preceding year he had requested to be
relieved from the painful service in
which he was engaged. On the 14th
of April, 1778, he received the king's
permission to resign; but at the same
time he was directed, while he continued
in command, to embrace every opportu
nity of putting an end to the war, by a
due employment of the force under his
orders. In the beginning of June, after
having received, in a triumphal proces
sion and festival, a testimony of the ap
probation and esteem of the army, he

sailed for England, leaving the troops
under the care of Sir Henry Clinton as
his successor*
» The following account of this festival is given in the
Pictorial History of England :
On the 1 8th of May Howe' s officers gave him a grand f6te,
as a proper leave-taking. As every thing connected with
the celebration was to be absurd and in bad taste, they
called the thing a Mischianza, an Italian word signifying a
mixture or medley. The entertainment is said not only
to have far exceeded any thing that had ever been seen
in America, but to have rivalled even the magnificent
exhibitions of that vain-glorious monarch Louis XIV.
All the colors of the army were arranged in a grand ave
nue 300 feet long, and lined with the king's troops, with
two principal arches for the two brothers (the admiral
and general) to march along in pompous procession, fol
lowed by a numerous train of attendants, with seven
silken knights of the Blended Rose, and seven more of
the Burning Mountain, and fourteen damsels dressed in
the Turkish fashion, each knight bearing an appropriate
motto in allusion to the damsel of his choice. From this
avenue they marched into an open space 150 yards square,
lined also with the king' s troops, for the exhibition of a
tilt or tournament, or mock fight of old chivalry, in honor
of the two heroes. Lord Cathcart acted the part of chief
knight ; his device being Cupid riding on a lion ; his
motto, "Surmounted by Love;'' and the lady he pro
fessed to honor, Miss Auchmuty. On the top of each
triumphal arch was a figure of Fame, bespangled with
stars, and (at the proper time, when it was dark) blowing
from her trumpet, in letters of light, Tes lauriers sont im
mortels.® How the elder and wiser of the two brothers,
who had most of the elements of real greatness in his
character, and who subsequently, in a different hemi
sphere, gained one of the foremost of naval victories,
should ever have consented to receive this gross adula
tion, and to parade his person in such a scene of extrava
gance and folly, we cannot possibly comprehend. In any
country, or under any other combination of circumstances
whatever, the exhibition must have provoked contempt
and derision. In America it would have been misplaced
and revolting, considering the nature of the contest,
which, if not exactly a civil war, was very like one, even
if the Howes had been constantly victorious, and had
finished the war by the most brilliant exploits. But the
general, so far from being victorious and finishing the
war, bad made any prospect of a termination appear more
distant than ever : — since the affair at Brandywine Creek
he had achieved nothing — he had been revelling in win-

* "Thy laurels aro immortal."

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

13

Sir William Howe has been much
blamed for inactivity, and for not over
whelming the Americans ; but he was
at least as successful as any other gen-
ter quarters from October to the middle of May — he was
now preparing to quit the command in disgust, conscious
that he had done nothing worth commemorating, and
also conscious that the army must evacuate Philadelphia,
the sole fruit of his last campaign, and for the acquire
ment of which Clinton had been kept penned up in New
York, and Burgoyne sacrificed at Saratoga ! As twenty
and more generals and field-officers, including men of
mature age, and, in the ordinary occurrences of life, of
respectable understanding, joined their purses and their
inventions to get up this pageantry, fitter for Astley's or
Bartholomew Fair, we can only believe — and there are
other circumstances and lapses of conduct which tend to
justify the belief — that there grew in the soil of America
the root Shakespeare speaks of as having the property of
taking "the reason prisoner," and that Howe and his
officers had all eaten of it. Six days after the fete Sir
William Howe took his departure, Sir Henry Clinton
having arrived from New York to assume the chief com
mand. Though guilty of such egregious follies, Howe
was much beloved by his officers and men, being a jovial
and companionable man, and on all occasions extremely
careful of their lives and attentive to their comforts. His
over-indulgence, which more than half ruined the army,
was not likely to be very severely censured by the ma
jority of the officers at that day. The parting is described
as tender and affecting ; the bravest of the band are said
to have shed tears when the general stepped into his
barge. Admiral Lord Howe was almost as eager to re
turn home as his brother ; but Lord Sandwich had as
sured him that it would be considered a very great addi
tional misfortune if the advantage of his able assistance
were lost in the present critical state of affairs ; and then
the rumors of the French war, and then the arrival of
the French fleet on the coast of America, induced him to
stay. Yet it appears he remained reluctantly, and did
not alter his determination to give up his command.
The Mischianza called forth the ridicule of Thomas
Paine, who put a laughable description of it into one of
the numbers of his paper called The Crisis. ' ' He bounces
off, ' ' says Paine, ' ' with his bombs and burning hearts
set upon the pillars of his triumphant arch, which, at the
proper time of the show, burst out in a shower of squibs,
and crackers, and other fireworks, to the delight and
amazement of Miss Craig, Miss Chew, Miss Kedman, and
all the other misses, dressed out as the fair damsels of
the Blended Bose and of the Burn.ig Mountain, for this
Voi. II.— 3

eral employed in the course of the war.
He was cautious, and sparing of the
lives of his men. In his operations, he
discovered a respectable share of mili
tary science, and he met with no great
reverses. They who blame him for
want of energy may look to the history
of generals Burgoyne and Cornwallis
for the fate of more enterprising lead
ers in America.
About the time when Howe resigned
the command of the army, the British
government ordered the evacuation of
Philadelphia. While the British had
an undisputed .naval superiority, Phila
delphia was, in some respects, a good
military station. Although in all the
States a decided majority of the people
gave their support to Congress, yet in
every province south of New England

farce of knight-errantry." There is a very elaborate ac
count of the Mischianza in the Annual Register for 1778,
written by one of the officers present. The affair lasted
all day as well as all night. A grand regatta on the
Delaware began the entertainment, with all the bands on
shore playing ' ' God save the King. ' ' After the mock
tournament, the company adjourned "to tea, lemonade,
and other cooling liquors ;" during which time the knights
came in, ' ' and on their knees received their favors from
their respective ladies." This was followed by a ball—
the faro-table not being omitted — and the ball by the
fireworks and a wonderful supper ! Eighteen lustres, with
twenty-four lights each, were suspended from the roof of
the temporary banqueting-hall ; 300 wax tapers were dis
posed along the tables, where there were 430 covers and
1200 dishes. Twenty-four black slaves, in Oriental dresses,
with silver collars and armlets, were ranged in two lines,
and bent themselves to the earth as the general and
admiral approached the table. Towards the end of the
supper the herald of the Blended Rose, attended by his
trumpets, entered the saloon and proclaimed healths to
the king, the queen, the royal family, the army and
navy, with their respective commanders, the knights and
their ladies, the ladies in general ; and every' toast was
followed by a flourish of music.

14

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

there was a considerable minority friend
ly to the claims of the mother country.
The occupation of Philadelphia, the prin
cipal city of the confederation, encour
aged the latter class of the inhabitants,
and the army there formed a point
round which they might rally. But
Philadelphia is more than one hundred
miles up the Delaware ; and as Howe
had been unable to drive Washington
from the field, he had found some dif
ficulty in subsisting his army in that
city, even when the British ships had
the full command of the sea, and could
force their way up the great rivers ; but
when the empire of the ocean was about
to be disputed by the French, Philadel
phia became a hazardous post, on ac
count of the difficulty and uncertainty
of procuring provisions, receiving com
munications, or sending aid to such
places as might be attacked. It was
accordingly resolved to abandon that
city; and, after shipping his cavalry,
formed of the German troops and Amer
ican loyalists, his provision train and
heavy baggage on the few vessels that
were in the river, Clinton had to march
the remainder of his army through the
Jerseys to New York, where the com
munication with the ocean is more easy.
The preparations for this movement
could not be so secretly made as to es
cape the notice of the Americans ; and
to be in readiness for it was one reason
of detaching Lafayette to Barren Hill,
where he had been exposed to so much
danger. Washington called in his de
tachments, and pressed the State gov

ernments to hasten the march of their
new levies, in order that he might be
enabled to act offensively : but the new
levies arrived slowly; and in some in
stances the State legislatures were de
liberating on the means of raising them
at the time when they should have been
in the field.
Although Washington was satisfied
of the intention of the British com
mander-in-chief to evacuate Philadel
phia, yet it was uncertain in what way
he would accomplish his purpose ; but
the opinion that he intended to march
through the Jerseys to New York gain
ed ground in the American camp ; and
in this persuasion Washington detached
General Maxwell with the Jersey brig
ade across the Delaware, to co-operate
with General Dickinson,* who was as
sembling the Jersey militia, in breaking
down the bridges, felling trees across
the roads, and impeding and harassing
the British troops in their retreat, but
with orders to be on his guard against
a sudden attack.
Washington summoned a council of
war to deliberate on the measures to
be pursued in that emergency. It was
unanimously resolved not to molest the
British army in passing the Delaware ;
but with respect to subsequent opera
tions there was much difference of opin
ion in the council. General Lee, who
had lately joined the army after his ex
change, was decidedly against risking
either a general or partial engagement.
° See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

15

The British army he estimated at ten
thousand men fit for duty, exclusive of
officers, while the American army did
not amount to more than eleven thou
sand eight hundred ; he was therefore
of opinion that, with so near an equality
of force, it would be criminal to hazard
a battle. He relied much on the im
posing attitude in which their late for
eign alliance placed them, and main
tained that nothing but a defeat of the
army could now endanger their inde
pendence. Almost all the foreign offi
cers agreed in opinion with General
Lee ; and among the American generals
only Wayne and Cadwalader were de
cidedly in favor of attacking the enemy.
Under these circumstances, Washing
ton, although strongly inclined to fight,
found himself constrained to act with
much circumspection.
Having made all the requisite prepa
rations, Sir Henry Clinton, early in the
morning of the 18th of June, led the
British army to the confluence of the
Delaware and Schuylkill, where boats
and other vessels were ready to receive
them ; and so judicious were the ar
rangements made by Admiral Lord
Howe, that all the troops, with the bag
gage and artillery, were carried across
the Delaware, and safely landed on the
Jersey side of the river, before ten in
the forenoon. Many of the loyalists of
Philadelphia accompanied the army,
carrying their effects along with them ;
and such of them as ventured to remain
behind met with little indulgence from
their irritated countrymen. Several of

them were tried for their lives, and two
Quakers were executed. The Ameri
cans entered the city before the British
rear-guard had entirely left it.
There were two roads leading from
Philadelphia to New York — the one
running along the western bank of the
Delaware to Trenton Ferry, and the
other along the eastern bank to the
same point. The British army had
wisely crossed the river at the point
where it was least exposed to molesta
tion, and entered on the last of these
two roads. In marching through a dif
ficult and hostile country, Sir Henry
Clinton prudently carried along with
him a considerable quantity of baggage,
and a large supply of provisions ; so
that the progress of the army, thus
heavily encumbered, was but slow. It
proceeded leisurely through Hudders-
fiekl, Mount Holly, and Crosswick, and
reached Allentown on the 24th ; hav
ing, in seven days, marched less than
forty miles. This slow progress made
the Americans believe that Sir Henry
Clinton wished to be attacked. Gen
eral Maxwell, who was posted at Mount
Holly, retired on his approach ; and
neither he nor General Dickinson was
able to give him much molestation.
As the march of the British army,
till it passed Crosswick, was up the Del
aware, and only at a small distance from
that river, Washington, who left Valley
Forge on the day that Sir Henry Clin
ton evacuated Philadelphia, found it
necessary to take a circuitous route, and
pass the river higher up, at Coryell's

16

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

Ferry, where he crossed it on the 2 2d,
and took post at Hopewell, on the high
grounds in that vicinity, and remained
during the 23d in that position.
From Allentown there were two
roads to New York, — one on the left,
passing through South Amboy to the
North River, the other on the right,
leading to Sandy Hook. The first of
these was somewhat shorter, but the
river Raritan lay in the way, and it
might be difficult and dangerous to pass
it in presence of a hostile force. Sir
Henry Clinton, therefore, resolved to
take the road to Sandy Hook, by
which the Earitan would be altogether
avoided. Although a great majority in the
American council of war were averse to
fighting, yet Washington was strongly
inclined to attack the British army.
He summoned the council of war a
second time, and again submitted the
subject to their consideration ; but they
adhered to their former opinion ; and
Washington, still inclined to attack the
enemy, determined to act on his own
responsibility. The Jersey militia and a brigade of
continentals, under generals Dickinson
and Maxwell, hovered on the left flank
of the British army ; General Cadwala-
der, with a continental regiment and a
few militia, was in its rear ; and Colonel
Morgan, with his rifle regiment, six hun
dred strong, was on its right. These
detachments were ordered to harass the
enemy as much as possible.
As Sir Henry Clinton proceeded on

the route towards Sandy Hook, Wash
ington strengthened his advanced guard
till it amounted to five thousand men.
General Lee, from his rank, had a claim
to the command of that force ; but, at
first, he declined it, and Lafayette was
appointed to that service. But General
Lee, perceiving the importance of the
command, solicited the appointment
which he had at first declined, and
was accordingly sent forward with a re
inforcement, when, from seniority, the
whole of the advanced guard became
subject to his orders.
On the evening of the 27th, Sir Hen
ry Clinton took a strong position on the
high grounds about Freehold Court-
House, in the county of Monmouth.
His right was posted in a small wood ;
his left was covered by a thick forest
and a morass ; he had a wood in front,
also a marsh for a considerable space
towards his left ; and he was within
twelve miles of the high grounds at
Middletown, after reaching which no
attempt could be made upon him with
any prospect of success. His position
was unassailable ; but Washington re
solved to attack his rear in the morn
ing, as soon as it descended from the
high grounds into the plain beyond
them, and gave orders accordingly to
Lee, who was at Englishtown, three
miles in the rear of the British army,
and as much in advance of the main
body of the Americans.
By the strong parties on his flanks
and rear, Clinton was convinced that
the hostile army was at hand ; and, sus-

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

17

pecting that an attempt on his baggage
was intended, on the morning of the
28th he changed his order of march,
and put all the baggage under the care
of General Knyphausen, who command
ed the van division of his army, in order
that the rear division, consisting of the
flower of the troops, under Cornwallis,
might be unencumbered, and ready to
act as circumstances might require.
Clinton remained with the rear di
vision. To avoid pressing on Knyphausen,
Cornwallis remained on his ground un
til about eight ; and then, descending
from the heights of Freehold into an
extensive plain, took up his line of
march in rear of the front division.
General Lee had made dispositions
for executing orders given the preced
ing evening, and repeated in the morn
ing, and soon after the British rear had
moved from its ground, prepared to at
tack it. General Dickinson had been
directed to detach some of his best
troops, to take such a position as to co
operate with him ; and Morgan, with
his riflemen, was ordered to act on the
right flank.
Lee appeared on the heights of Free
hold soon after Cornwallis had left
them ; and, following the British into
the plain, ordered General Wayne to
attack the rear of their covering party
with sufficient vigor to check it, but not
to press it so closely as either to force
it up to the main body, or to draw re
inforcements to its aid. In the mean
time, he intended to gain the front of

this party by a shorter road, and, inter
cepting its communication with the line,
to bear it off before it could be assisted.
While in the execution of this design, an
officer in the suite of Washington came
up to gain intelligence, and Lee commu
nicated to him his present object. Be
fore he reached the point of destination,
however, there was reason to believe that
the British rear was much stronger than
had been conjectured. The intelligence
on this subject being contradictory, and
the face of the country well calculated
to conceal the truth, he deemed it ad
visable to ascertain the fact himself.
Sir Henry Clinton, soon after the rear
division was in full march, received in
telligence that an American column had
appeared on his left flank. This, being
a corps of militia, was soon dispersed,
and the march was continued. When
his rear-guard had descended from the
heights, he saw it followed by a strong
corps, soon after which a cannonade was
commenced upon it ; and at the same
time a respectable force showed itself
on each of his flanks. Suspecting a de
sign on his baggage, he determined to
attack the troops in his rear so vigor
ously as to compel a recall of those on
his flanks, and for this purpose march
ed back his whole rear division. This
movement was in progress as Lee ad
vanced for the purpose of reconnoiter-
ing. He soon perceived his mistake
respecting the force of the British rear.
but still determined to engage on that
ground, although his judgment disap
proved the measure — there being a

18

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

morass immediately in his rear, which
would necessarily impede the reinforce
ments which might be advancing to his
aid, and embarrass his retreat should
he be finally overpowered. This was
about ten. While both armies were
preparing for action, General Scott (as
stated by General Lee) mistook an
oblique march of an American column
for a retreat ; and, in the apprehension
of being abandoned, left his position,
and repassed the ravine in his rear.
Being himself of opinion that the
ground was unfavorable, Lee did not
correct the error he ascribed to Scott,
but ordered the whole detachment to
regain the heights. He was closely
pressed, and some slight skirmishing
ensued without much loss on either
side. As soon as the firing announced the
commencement of the action, the rear
division of the army advanced rapidly
to the support of the front. As they
approached the scene of action, Wash
ington, who had received no intelligence
from Lee giving notice of his retreat,
rode forward, and, to his utter aston
ishment and mortification, met the ad
vanced corps retiring before the enemy,
without having made a single effort to
maintain its ground. The troops he
first saw neither understood the motives
which had governed Lee, nor his pres
ent design ; and could give no other
information than that, by his orders,
they had fled without fighting.
Washington rode to the rear of the
division, where he met Lee, to whom he

spoke in terms of some warmth, imply
ing disapprobation of his conduct.*
0 This interview between Washington and Lee was
followed by such important results, that one is naturally
curious to know exactly what passed between them. The
interview is described by Lee himself in his defence before
the court-martial :
"When I arrived first in his presence, conscious of
having done nothing which could draw on me the least
censure, but rather flattering myself with his congratu
lation and applause, I confess I was disconcerted, aston
ished, and confounded by the words and manner in which
his Excellency accosted me. It was so novel and unex
pected from a man, whose discretion, humanity, and de
eorum I had from the first of our acquaintance stood in
admiration of, that I was for some time unable to make
any coherent answer to questions so abrupt, and in a
great measure to me unintelligible. The terms, I think,
were these : 'I desire to know, sir, what is the reason,
whence arises this disorder and confusion ?' The manner
in which he expressed them was much stronger and more
severe than the expressions themselves. When I recov
ered myself sufficiently, I answered that I saw or knew
of no confusion but what naturally arose from disobedi
ence of orders, contradictory intelligence, and the imper
tinence and presumption of individuals, who were invested
with no authority, intruding themselves in matters above
them and out of their sphere ; that the retreat in the first
instance was contrary to my intentions, contrary to my
orders, and contrary to my wishes."
Washington replied that all this might be true, but
that he ought not to have undertaken the enterprise un
less he intended to go through with it. He then rode
away, and ordered some of the retreating regiments to
be formed on the ground which he pointed out.
Gordon says that, after the first meeting with Lee,
Washington rode on towards the rear of the retreating
troops. He had not gone many yards before he met his
secretary, who told him that the British army were within
fifteen minutes' march of that place, which was the first
intelligence he received of their pushing on so briskly.
He remained there till the extreme rear of the retreating
troops got up, when, looking about, and judging the
ground to be an advantageous spot for giving the enemy
the first check, he ordered Colonel Stewart's and Lieuten
ant-colonel Ramsay's battalions to form and incline to
their left, that they might be under cover of a corner of
woods, and not be exposed to the enemy's cannon in
front. Lee having been told by one of his aids that
Washington had taken the command, answered, "Then
I have nothing further to do," and turned his horse and
rode after his Excellency in front. Washington, on his

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

19

Orders were immediately given to
Colonel Stewart and Lieutenant-colonel
Ramsay to form their regiments for the
purpose of checking the pursuit ; and
Lee was directed to take proper meas
ures with the residue of his force to stop
the British column on that ground.

coming up, asked, " Will you command on this ground
or not ? If you will, I will return to the main body and
have them formed upon the next height." Lee replied,
" It is equal with me where I command." Washington
then told him, " I expect you will take proper measures
for ehecking the enemy." Lee said, " Your orders shall
be obeyed, and I will not be the first to leave the field."
Washington then rode to the main army, which was
formed with the utmost expedition on the eminence,
with the morass in front. Immediately upon his riding
off, a warm cannonade commenced between the British
and American artillery on the right of Stewart and Ram
say, between whom and the advanced troops of the British
army a heavy fire, began soon after in the skirt of the
woods before mentioned. The British pressed on close ;
their light-horse charged upon the right of the Ameri
cans, and the latter were obliged to give way in such
haste, that the British horse and infantry came out of the
wood seemingly mixed with them.
The action then commenced between the British and
Colonel Livingston's regiment, together with Varnum's
brigade, which had been drawn up by Lee's order, and
lined the fence that stretched across the open field in
front of the bridge over the morass, with the view of
covering the retreat of the artillery and the troops ad
vanced with them. The artillery had timely retired to
the rear of the fence, and from an eminence discharged
several rounds of shot at the British engaged with Liv
ingston's and Varnum's troops ; these were soon broken
by a charge of the former, and retired. The artillery
were then ordered off. Prior to the commencement of
the last action, Lee sent orders to Colonel Ogden, who
had drawn up in the wood nearest the bridge to defend
that post to the last extremity, thereby to cover the
retreat of the whole over the bridge. Lee was one of the
last that remained on the field, and brought off the rear
of the retreating troops. Upon his addressing General
Washington, after passing the morass, with, "Sir, here
are my troops, how is it your pleasure that I should dis
pose of them?" he was ordered to arrange them in the
rear of Englishtown.
See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

Washington then rode back to arrange
the rear division of the army.
These orders were executed with firm
ness ; and, when forced from his ground,
Lee brought off his troops in good or
der, and was directed to form in the
rear of Englishtown.
This check afforded time to draw up
the left wing and second line of the
American army on an eminence, cov
ered by a morass in front. Lord Stir
ling, who commanded the left wing,
brought up a detachment of artillery
under Lieutenant-colonel Carrington,
and some field-pieces, which played
with considerable effect on a division of
the British which had passed the mo
rass, and was pressing on to the charge.
These pieces, with the aid of several
parties of infantry, effectually stopped
the advance of the enemy.
Finding themselves warmly opposed
in front, the British attempted to turn
the left flank of the American army,
but were repulsed. They then attempt
ed the right with as little success. Gen
eral Greene had advanced a body of
troops with artillery to a commanding
piece of ground in his front, which not
only disappointed the design of turn
ing the right, but enfiladed the party
which yet remained in front of the left
wing. At this moment General Wayne was
advanced with a body of infantry to
engage them in front, who kept up so
hot and well-directed a fire, that they
soon withdrew behind the ravine to the
ground on which the action had com-

20

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

menced immediately after the arrival of
Washington. Lafayette, speaking of this battle,
said : " Never was General Washington
greater in war than in this action. His
presence stopped the retreat. His dis
positions fixed the victory. His fine
appearance on horseback, his calm cour
age, roused by the animation produced
by the vexation of the morning, gave
him the air best calculated to excite en
thusiasm." The position now taken by the Brit
ish army was very strong. Both flanks
were secured by thick woods and mo
rasses, and their front was accessible
only through a narrow pass. The day
had been intensely hot, and the troops
were much fatigued. Notwithstand
ing these circumstances, Washington re
solved to renew the engagement. For
this purpose he ordered Brigadier-gen
eral Poor, with his own and the North
Carolina brigade, to gain their right
flank, while Woodford with his brigade
should turn their left. At the same
time the artillery was ordered to ad
vance, and play on their front. These
orders were obeyed with alacrity ; but
the impediments on the flanks of the
British were so considerable, that before
they could be overcome it was nearly
dark. Further operations were there
fore deferred until next morning ; and
the brigades which had been detached
to the flanks of the British army contin
ued on their ground through the night,
and the other troops lay on the field of
battle with their arms in their hands.

Washington passed the night in his
cloak in the midst of his soldiers.
The British employed the early part
of the morning in removing their wound
ed, and about midnight marched away
in such silence that their retreat was
not perceived until day.
As it was certain that they must gain
the high grounds about Middletown
before they could be overtaken ; as the
face of the country afforded no prospect
of opposing their embarkation ; and as
the battle already fought had termi
nated in a manner to make a general
impression favorable to the American
arms, Washington decided to relinquish
the pursuit. Leaving a detachment to
hover about the British rear, the main
body of the army moved towards the
Hudson. Washington was highly gratified with
the cenduct of his troops in this action.
Their behavior, he said, after recover
ing from the first surprise occasioned by
the unexpected retreat of the advanced
corps, could not be surpassed. Wayne
he particularly mentioned, and spoke of
the artillery in terms of high praise.
The loss of the Americans in the bat
tle of Monmouth was eight officers and
sixty-one privates killed, and about one
hundred and sixty wounded. Among
the slain were Lieutenant-colonel Bon
ner, of Pennsylvania, and Major Dick
inson, of Virginia, both of whom were
much regretted. One hundred and
thirty were missing, but a considerable
number of these afterwards rejoined
their regiments.

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

21

In his official letter, Sir Henry Clin
ton states his dead and missing at four
officers and one hundred and eighty-four
privates ; his wounded, at sixteen offi
cers and one hundred and fifty-four
privates. This account, so far as -it re
spects the dead, cannot be correct, as
four officers and two hundred and forty-
five privates were buried on the field
by persons appointed for the purpose,
who made their report to Washington ;
and some few were afterwards found, so
as to increase the number to nearly three
hundred. The uncommon heat of the
day proved fatal to several on both sides.
As usual, when a battle has not been
decisive, both parties claimed the vic
tory. In the early part of the day, the
advantage was certainly with the Brit
ish ; in the latter part, it may be pro
nounced with equal certainty to have
been with the Americans. They main
tained their ground, repulsed the enemy,
were prevented only by the night and
by the retreat of the hostile army from
renewing the action, and suffered less
in killed and wounded than their ad
versaries. It is true that Sir Henry Clinton
effected what he states to have been
his principal object — the safety of his
baggage. But when it is recollected
that the American officers had decided
against hazarding an action, that this
advice must have trammelled the con
duct and circumscribed the views of
Washington, he will be admitted to
have effected no inconsiderable object
in giving the American arms that ap-
Vol. TI— 4

pearance of superiority which was cer
tainly acquired by this engagement.
Independent of the loss sustained in
the action, the British army was con
siderably weakened in its march from
Philadelphia to New York. About one
hundred prisoners were made, and near
one thousand soldiers, chiefly foreigners,
deserted while passing through Jersey.
Many of the soldiers had formed at
tachments in Philadelphia, which occa
sioned their desertion. Clinton's whole
loss, including killed, wounded, prison
ers, and deserters, amounted to at least
two thousand men.
The conduct of Lee was generally
disapproved. As, however, he had pos
sessed a large share of the confidence
and good opinion of the commander-in-
chief, it is probable that explanations
might have been made which would
have rescued him from the imputations
that were cast on him, and have re
stored him to the esteem of the army,
could his haughty temper have brooked
the indignity he believed to have been
offered him on the field of battle.
Washington had taken no measures in
consequence of the events of that day,
and would probably have come to no
resolution concerning them without an
amicable explanation, when he received
from Lee a letter expressed in very un
becoming terms, in which he, in the
tone of a superior, required reparation
for the injury sustained " from the very
singular expressions" said to have been
used on the day of the action by Wash
ington.

22

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

July 30.

This letter was answered by an as
surance that, so soon as circumstances
would admit of an inquiry, he should
have an opportunity of justifying him
self to the army, to America,
and to the world in general ; or
of convincing them that he had been
guilty of disobedience of orders, and
misbehavior before the enemy. On his
expressing a wish for a speedy investi
gation of his conduct, and for a court-
martial rather than a court of inquiry,
he was arrested — first, for disobedience
of orders in not attacking the enemy on
the 28th of June, agreeably to repeated
instructions ; secondly, for misbehavior
before the enemy on the same day, in
making an unnecessary, disorderly, and
shameful retreat ; and, thirdly, for dis
respect to the commander-in-chief in
two letters.
Before this correspondence had taken
place, strong and specific charges of mis
conduct had been made against General
Lee by several officers of his detachment,
and particularly by generals Wayne and
Scott. In these, the transactions of the
day, not being well understood, were
represented in colors much more unfa
vorable to Lee than facts, when prop
erly explained, would seem to justify.
These representations, most probably,
induced the strong language of the sec
ond article in the charge. A court-
martial, over which Lord Stirling pre
sided, after a tedious investigation,
found him guilty of all the charges
exhibited against him, and sentenced
him to be suspended for one year. This

sentence was afterwards, though with
some hesitation, approved almost unan
imously by Congress. The court soft
ened, in some degree, the severity of
the second charge, by finding him guilty,
not in its very words, but " of misbe
havior before the enemy, by making an
unnecessary, and, in some few instances,
a disorderly retreat."
Lee defended himself with his accus
tomed ability. He proved that, after
the retreat had commenced, in conse
quence of General Scott's repassing the
ravine, on the approach of the enemy,
he had designed to form on the first
advantageous piece of ground he could
find ; and that in his own opinion, and
in the opinion of some other officers, no
safe and advantageous position had pre
sented itself until he met Washington,
at which time it was his intention to
fight the enemy on the very ground
afterwards taken by Washington him
self. He suggested a variety of reasons
in justification of his retreat, which, if
they do not absolutely establish its pro
priety, 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 stoop
ed to offer explanation instead of out
rage to the commander-in-chief.
His suspension gave general satisfac
tion through the army. Without judg
ing harshly of his conduct as a military
man, they perfectly understood the
insult offered to their general by his
letters ; and, whether rightly or not,
believed his object to have been to dis-

Chap. XIV.]

MONMOUTH.

23

grace Washington, and to obtain the
supreme command for himself. So de
votedly were all ranks attached to their
general, that the mere suspicion of such
a design would have rendered his con
tinuance in the army extremely difficult.
Whatever judgment may be formed
on the propriety of his retreat, it is not
easy to justify either the omission to
keep the commander-in-chief continu
ally informed of his situation and inten
tions, or the very rude letters written
after the action was over.*
The battle of Monmouth gave great
satisfaction to Congress. A resolu
tion was passed unanimously, thanking
Washington for the activity with which
he marched from the camp at Valley
Forge in pursuit of the enemy ; for his
distinguished exertions in forming the
line of battle, and for his great good
conduct in the action ; and he was re
quested to signify the thanks of Con
gress to the officers and men under his
command who distinguished themselves
by their conduct and valor in the battle.
After the battle of Monmouth, Wash
ington gave his arnrv one dav's
repose, and then (June 30) com
menced his march towards Brunswick,
• See Document [D] at the end of this chapter.

at which place he encamped, and re
mained for several days. Thence he
sent out parties to reconnoitre the ene
my's position, and learn his intentions.
Among other persons sent out with this
design, was Aaron Burr, a lieutenant-
colonel, who had served in Arnold's
expedition to Quebec, and who was
destined to become a conspicuous per
son in American history.
Clinton had arrived with his army in
the neighborhood of Sandy Hook on
the 30th of June. Here he was met
by Lord Howe with the fleet, which
had just arrived from Philadelphia.
Sandy Hook having been converted by
the winter storms from a peninsula to
an island, Lord Howe caused a bridge
of boats to be constructed, over which
Clinton's army passed from the main
land to the Hook. It was soon after
wards distributed into different encamp
ments on Staten Island, Long Island,
and the island of New York.
When Washington had learned that
the British army was thus situated, he
was satisfied that Clinton had no pres
ent intention of passing up the Hud
son ; and he halted a few days at Para-
mus, at which place he received intelli
gence of an important event which will
claim our attention in the next chapter.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XIY.

[A.]
GENERAL LACET.
Johk Lacbt, an active officer and zealous
whig of the Revolution, was born in Bucks
county, Pennsylvania, on the 4th day of Febru
ary, 1755. His great-grandfather emigrated
from the Isle of Wight, and was among the
earliest of those who followed the fortunes of
William Penn, in the settlement of Pennsylva
nia. The family, from the first emigrant down
to the subject of this biographical notice, were
all educated in the religious principles of the So
ciety of Friends, or Quakers, and were chiefly
devoted to the peaceful pursuits of agriculture.
Previous to the American revolution, the op
portunities of education were very limited in
Pennsylvania, especially in the country schools ;
and in addition to this, the Quakers were con
siderably prejudiced against giving much school
learning to their children. The joint operation
of these causes prevented Mr. Lacey, while
young, from receiving more than the rudiments
of an imperfect English education ; a defect
which, subsequently, he often felt, and regret
ted, and which he endeavored to supply, as far
as possible, by his own industry and application
to private studies. His active mind soon per
ceived the want of that nurture which it is the
business of well-ordered schools to afford ; and,
to the latest hour of his life, he earnestly depre
cated that neglect of the expanding faculties of
youth, which it had been his own misfortune to
experience. At the early age of fourteen years, he was ta
ken from school, and employed occasionally on
the farm ; but more generally in attending to

a mill, whi^h his father owned. Here he devo
ted his leisure moments to reading and study ;
and with the aid of borrowed books, procured
among his friends of the neighborhood, he add
ed considerably to his stock of useful knowledge.
In this manner his time was principally occu
pied, until the disputes between the colonies
and Great Britain assumed a serious aspect.
Every one took his side, on that momentous oc
casion ; and many of Mr. Lacey's nearest con
nections, in common with the greater portion of
the sect to which they belonged, inclined to the
side of the mother country : but he, young, en
terprising, and full of patriotic ardor, speedily
became indignant at the conduct and pretensions
of Britain, and warmly espoused the cause of
the colonies. Animated by the noble feelings
which roused the American whigs to action, he
immediately united with those who prepared to
resist the operations of the haughty oppressor.
A volunteer association of young men was form
ed, in the county, to learn the use of arms, of
which corps he was unanimously chosen captain.
Several youths of the Society of Friends joined
the company, at first ; but when the Meetings
interfered, they all fell back, except Mr. Lacey,
who was soon after excommunicated for persist
ing in the cause. Although attached to the
Society, in which he had been educated, by
strong and numerous ligaments, yet the impetus
of his feelings, at that eventful crisis, quickly
carried him beyond the limits prescribed by the
submissive tenets of the sect.
At the recommendation of Congress, several
battalions of troops were ordered to be raised
in Pennsylvania, for the defence of the country
and its liberties ; and Mr. Lacey received a cap-

Chap. XIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

25

tain's commission from Congress, dated the 5th
of January, 1VV6. The commission reached him
on the 20th of the month ; and such was his zeal,
diligence, and good fortune, that he enlisted his
complement of men (mostly farmers' sons of the
neighborhood) by the 12th of February, fol
lowing. Captain Lacey's company was attached
to the 4th battalion in the Pennsylvania line,
commanded by Colonel Anthony Wayne, and
was directed to rendezvous with the other troops
at Chester, on the river Delaware ; for which
place he commenced his march on the 12th of
February. From Chester, they were all soon
afterwards ordered to New York, and from
thence towards Canada. About this time, a
misunderstanding unfortunately arose between
Colonel Wayne and Captain Lacey, which ren
dered the situation of the latter exceedingly irk
some and unpleasant ; but he, nevertheless, con
tinued faithfully to serve out the residue of an
arduous campaign, during which he was selected
by General Sullivan to go express into Canada,
with communications to General Arnold ; a haz
ardous expedition, which was accomplished to
the entire satisfaction of the commanding gen
eral. When the army went into winter-quarters,
Captain Lacey sent in his resignation to the
council of safety, accompanied by a detailed
statement of his reasons for a procedure so little
congenial with his wishes and original views;
but which existing circumstances, in his opinion,
imperiously required him to adopt. His con
nections, who were generally inimical to the
Revolution, hearing of his resignation, and the
reasons which induced it, seized the occasion to
urge him to abandon the pursuit of arms, and
the cause in which he was engaged ; but he was
too warmly devoted to both, to listen to their
entreaties, or to be a passive spectator of the
contest. The legislature of Pennsylvania, under the
new constitution, was in session at Philadelphia,
during the ensuing winter, and was busily en
gaged in organizing the government. Among
other acts, a militia law was passed on the 17th
of March, 1777, by which an important tribunal
was established in each county, composed of a
lieutenant and four sub-lieutenants, with the
rank of colonel and lieutenant-colonels respect

ively. These officers were to hold courts, to
class and district the militia, to organize them
into regiments and companies, to hold the elec
tions for officers, to call out the classes, find
substitutes in the places of delinquents, and to
assess, and cause the assessments on delinquents
to be collected, and paid into the State treasury ;
with other extensive duties enumerated in the
act. Mr. Lacey was appointed one of the sub
lieutenants of Bucks county, on the 22d of
March, 1777; and having acquired a know
ledge of military affairs during the campaign of
1776, was one of the most active and efficient in
the prosecution of the business. Having suc
ceeded in organizing the militia of Bucks, Mr.
Lacey carried in the returns of the officers, when
he was complimented by the executive council,
as being the first who had complied with the
requisitions of the law. The militia of the dis
trict in which Mr. Lacey resided chose him for
their lieutenant-colonel, and as the appointment
did not interfere with his duties of sub-lieutenaut,
he was commissioned a lieutenant-colonel on the
6th of May, 1777, and continued to act in both
capacities. When the British army got possession of Phil
adelphia, after the battle of Brandy wine, a draft
was made on the militia of Bucks county, for
the purpose of relieving those whose term of
service was about to expire ; and Lieutenant-
colonel Lacey, ever anxious and ready for active
employment, solicited and obtained the com
mand of a regiment, from the officer whose turn
it was to take the field. Having collected be
tween three and four hundred men, he marched
from Newtown, and joined General Potter's
brigade, at Whitemarsh, in the beginning of
November, 1777. While on this tour of duty,
he was engaged in frequent skirmishes with par
ties of the enemy ; particularly in one of some
severity near the Gulf mills, on the Schuylkill,
from which he had a narrow escape, in conse
quence of his perseverance in rallying and en
couraging the troops, in the face of a superior
force. Washington, in his orders the next day,
expressly complimented Colonel Lacey's regi
ment for its good conduct on the occasion. After
this affair, Colonel Lacey commanded a detach
ment of militia on the eastern side of the Schuyl-

26

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

kill, until the close of the campaign. His active
exertions in suppressing intercourse with the
British, and breaking up the iniquitous traffic
of their adherents, had by this time so strongly
excited the hatred of the tories and disaffected,
that they menaced him with personal vengeance;
but a spirit so determined, and devoted to the
service, was not to be influenced by such con
siderations. Their threats were despised, and
their denunciations disregarded.
About the time when Colonel Lacey was pre
paring to retire, at the close of this tour of duty,
he received the appointment of brigadier-general,
dated the 9th of January, 1778, and was ordered
immediately to relieve General Potter. His
commission was inclosed in the following letter
from the secretary of the executive council.
" Lancaster, January 9, 1778.
" Sie — Inclosed is a commission authorizing o
you to act as a brigadier-general of the militia
of this State. I congratulate you on this ap
pointment, which, at the same time that it does
you honor, in acknowledging your merit as an
officer, affords a reasonable hope for benefit to
the public, by calling you into the field in an im
portant station. I sincerely wish you success,
and am, with great respect,
" Your very humble servant,
" Ty. Matlack, Secretary.
" To Brigadier-general Lacey, at Camp."
General Lacey was not yet twenty-three years
of age, when he was invested with this impor
tant and very arduous command. On receiving
the appointment, the responsibilities of which
might have shaken the resolution of a more ex
perienced officer, he repaired to his post, and
had a most harassing duty to perform on the
lines, while the British army occupied Philadel
phia. The utmost vigilance was required to cut
off the intercourse of the tories with the city,
and also to watch the movements of the enemy's
parties who denounced vengeance against the
new general, and declared they would have him,
dead or alive. He was incessantly employed in
this service, until the middle of May, at the head
of a fluctuating body of militia, whose force

sometimes amounted to five hundred men, but
was frequently reduced to less than half that
number. On the 1st of May, owing to the mis
conduct of the officer commanding the scouts,
his camp was surprised, near the Hillet (now
village of Hatborough), by a strong detachment
of the British, consisting, according to their own
account, " of four hundred light infantry, three
hundred rangers, and a party of light dragoons,"
under the command of Colonel Abercrombie.
He was assailed on all sides about daylight, and
was, for a short time, in a most perilous situa
tion. He, however, determined on a bold ex
pedient, and forming his little band with all
possible dispatch, he fought his way through the
enemy, with the loss of twenty-six killed, and
an inconsiderable number of wounded and pris
oners. The wounded, in this affair, were treated
with the most wanton and shameful cruelty, by
the British. Some of them were thrown into
buckwheat straw, and the straw set on fire while
they were yet alive ; and others who had been
disabled by musket-balls, were afterwards delib
erately hacked and mangled with cutlasses and
bayonets, for the mere purpose, it would seem,
of venting the rage and chagrin of the barbari
ans at not having succeeded more completely in
the object of their expedition. The militia be
haved with great firmness on this occasion,
which enabled their commander to extricate
them from their dangerous position with a com
paratively moderate loss. A letter from the
council to General Lacey, dated May 16, says,
"Your conduct is highly approved, and your
men have justly acquired great reputation by
their bravery."
A number of hazardous enterprises in the vi
cinity of the enemy's outposts, requiring great
address and dexterity in the execution, were
undertaken by General Lacey, at the request of
Washington, and were performed, for the most
part, with entire success, and always to the sat
isfaction of the latter. A most unpleasant duty
was also imposed, by the commander-in-chief,
upon General Lacey, to be performed among his
neighbors and relations; which was, the de
rangement of their grist-mills, and the destruc
tion of grain, forage, and other private property,

Chap. XIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

27

with a view to distress the enemy, and prevent
him from drawing supplies from that part of the
country. This painful service was executed, re
luctantly, indeed, but with such rigid impartial
ity in all cases, that some of his connections
could hardly ever forgive him for it ; notwith
standing he had acted under the peremptory
orders of Washington, who believed that the
safety and best interests of the republic required
the measure.
After the British had evacuated Philadelphia,
General Lacey was elected a member of the
General Assembly, from the county of Bucks,
and took his seat in November, 1778. The
year following he was elected to the council, of
which he was a member for the three succeed
ing years. In August, 1780, Washington being
apprehensive that the enemy intended to aim
another blow at Pennsylvania, General Lacey
was ordered to Trenton, in New Jersey, with a
brigade of militia from the counties of Bucks
and Berks ; and by a correspondence with the
president of the council, he appears to have been
in almost continual service until October, 1781,
when the militia were discharged, and the thanks
of the council voted to them and their com
mander. During this command General Lacey married
a daughter of Colonel Thomas Reynolds, of
New Jersey, and shortly afterwards removed
to that State and settled at the village of New
Mills, in Burlington county, where he became
largely concerned in iron-works. He was, for
many years, an active and useful citizen of his
adopted State, having been a judge and justice
of the county where he resided, and also a mem
ber of the legislature. In the latter part of his
life he was much afflicted with gout, to which
disease he fell a victim, on the 17th of February,
1814, aged 59 years.
General Lacey is represented by all who knew
him and served with him in the Revolution, as
having been an officer of a remarkably fine, mar
tial appearance, and of the most determined and
enterprising character. All his letters, written
under every difficulty and pressure of the times,
breathe the most ardent spirit of patriotism and
inflexible devotion to the cause of his country's
liberty and independence.

[B.]
GENERAL DICKINSON.
Philemon Dickinson was born in Trenton,
New Jersey, in 1741. He inherited a hand
some fortune, and received a liberal education.
On the breaking out of the Revolution, he at
tached himself to the cause of liberty, and en
tered the revolutionary army, and soon acquired
the confidence of Washington in a remarkable
degree. This is evinced in Washington's letters
to him. During the trying campaign of 1776-7,
in Jersey, Washington seems to have depended
chiefly on him for raising reinforcements of mi
litia in that State. In a letter to him dated Jan
uary 21st, 1777, Washington says: "Now I rec
ommend to you, that you call immediately into
service, by such ways as you think best, at least
one-third of all the militia of this State, making
it generally known amongst them that they
must come prepared to stay till the first of April,
unless sooner discharged by authority. It will
occur to them that nothing but their most vig
orous exertion at this time will enable me to
oppose any design of the enemy, and that there
fore they ought to continue with me till relieved
by the regular troops now raising. I mean,
however, that every possible indulgence should
be shown to those men who have been in actual
service, and were regularly discharged, and that
no excuse shall be admitted for those who have
shamefully remained at home when their every
thing was at stake."
On the next day after writing this letter,
Washington thus reports a successful exploit of
Major-general Dickinson, to the president of
Congress. " My last to you was on the 20th
instant. Since that, I have the pleasure to in
form you that General Dickinson, with about
four hundred militia, has defeated a foraging
party of the enemy of an equal number, and has
taken forty wagons, and upwards of a hundred
horses, most of them of the English draft breed,
and a number of sheep and cattle, which they
had collected. The enemy retreated with so
much precipitation, that General Dickinson had
only an opportunity of making nine prisoners.
They were observed to carry off a great many
dead and wounded, in light wagons. This ac-

28

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

tion happened near Somerset courthouse, on
Millstone River. General Dickinson's behavior
reflects the highest honor on him ; for though
his troops were all raw, he led them through
the river, middle deep, and gave the enemy so
severe a charge, that although supported by
three field-pieces, they gave way, and left their
convoy." Immediately after General Dickinson had re
sumed his position on the Millstone, he waited
on the commander-in-chief, for the purpose of
receiving his orders. He found him exceedingly
indisposed, and his spirits much depressed, in
consequence of the gloomy aspect of affairs. In
the course of a long and confidential conversa
tion between them, Washington observed, that
the continental troops with him were scarcely
sufficient in number to perform the ordinary
guard duties, and that out of eleven hundred
men, eight hundred were under inoculation for
the small-pox. He expressed great solicitude
lest the enemy should become acquainted Avith
his actual situation ; the consequence of which
might prove fatal to the cause of America. He
particularly impressed upon General Dickinson
the necessity of obtaining accurate information
of the views and movements of the enemy, and
requested his utmost vigilance, and most active
exertions to attain this object.
At the close of this interview, General Dick
inson returned to his station, where he heard
with equal surprise and regret, that an officer
of the militia had deserted to the enemy, and
had previously obtained from the office of the
adjutant-general, an actual and correct return of
the American army, which he delivered to Lord
Cornwallis, then in command at New Brunswick,
through the medium of Colonel Skinner, a loy
alist in the service of Great Britain. In conse
quence of this information, his lordship formed
the plan of an attack on the American army.
General Dickinson at once saw the necessity
of endeavoring to remove the impression made
by this act of treachery. Having in his employ
ment a spy, whose want of fidelity he had re
cently discovered, he resolved to make use of
him on the present occasion. Fortunately, this
man applied for permission to visit New Bruns
wick. His request was at first positively re

fused ; and at the same time, it was intimated
to him, as the reason of this refusal, that an
important movement was in agitation, in the
execution of which the utmost secrecy was ne
cessary. He was further informed that the in
dulgence of his request at that moment would
incur the displeasure of the commander-in-chief.
The curiosity of the man being much excited by
these hints, General Dickinson at length took
him into a private room, and observed, that an
opportunity was now afforded him of rendering
his country a very important service, for which
he should be liberally rewarded. He then stated
that the return, which the officer who had de
serted had in his possession, was a forgery, in
tended to secure to himself a favorable reception
from the enemy; also, that large bodies of troops,
both from the east and the south, had recently
arrived in the vicinity of Morristown ; that from
the last returns the American army, at its sev
eral positions, which might be readily concen
trated, amounted to nearly twenty thousand
men ; and that an attack on the enemy was only
delayed for the purpose of making the necessary
arrangements, already in great forwardness;
adding, that as the capture of the commanding
officer at Brunswick was an object of the first
importance, it was material to ascertain particu
larly the situation of his quarters in the town,
and also the force and position of the guards,
outposts, &c, &c.
The spy giving General Dickinson every as
surance that he would faithfully execute his
commission, was permitted to proceed on his
visit. On reaching New Brunswick, he com
municated, without delay, to Lord Cornwallis,
all that passed in the conversation between the
general and himself, which induced his lordship
to relinquish his meditated attack.
During the fall of 1777, General Dickinson,
after informing himself precisely of the force and
situation of the enemy on Staten Island, pro
jected an expedition against that post, in the
hope of being able entirely to cut off Skinner's
brigade of loyal Americans, which was stationed
there. His perfect knowledge of the country
enabled him to make such a disposition as prom
ised success, and authorized a hope that his plan
would be executed as formed. He collected

Chap. XIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

29

about two thousand men, and requested from
General Putnam a diversion on the side of
King's Bridge, in order to prevent a sudden re
inforcement from New York.
Knowing well that success depended on se
crecy, he had concealed his object, even from
his officers, until eight o'clock of the night on
which it was to be executed ; yet by three in
the morning, information of the design was
given to General Skinner, who was thereby put
on his guard ; and on the first alarm, he saved
himself and his brigade by taking refuge in
some works too strong to be carried by assault.
In the flight, a few prisoners were made, and a
few men killed ; after which, General Dickinson
brought off his party with a loss of only three
killed, and ten slightly wounded. Soon after
the British army reached Philadelphia, in the
autumn of 1777, Count Donop crossed the Del
aware, with the intention, as it was believed, of
investing Red Bank, a post on the Jersey side
of the river. Immediate measures were taken
to raise the militia of that State ; this was ren
dered particularly difficult at this moment, by
an event by no means common. The time for
which the governor was elected had expired,
and no new election had been made. The late
executive, therefore, did not think itself author
ized to take any measures, as an executive ; and
had not General Dickinson ventured to order
out the militia, by his own authority, they could
not have been put in motion.
General Dickinson was present at the battle
of Monmouth, with all the militia he could as
semble. He was also a member of the council
of war, held on the night before the action. He
there took an opportunity of representing to
Washington, that though the militia might be
less efficient in the field than the regular troops,
yet they were capable of performing a very im
portant part in guarding the army against an
attack that night, by which the whole of the
continental troops would have an opportunity of
obtaining that repose they so much needed ; and
if the commander-in-chief would confide to them
that honor, he would pledge himself that the
camp should not be surprised. General Dickin
son's offer was accepted, and on the following
morning, before daylight, information was con-
Vol. II.— 5

veyed to the commander-in-chief that the enemy
had resumed his line of march.
At the close of the war General Dickinson
retired to his seat on the banks of the Delaware.
In December, 1784, Congress appointed three
commissioners to select a spot for a federal city,
on either side of the river Delaware, not more
than eight miles above, nor eight miles below,
its lower falls. The persons chosen were Robert
Morris, Esq., General Schuyler, and General
Dickinson. The action of this committee, how
ever, was attended with no practical result.
General Dickinson was a member of the Sen
ate of the United States for several years pre
viously to the removal of Congress to Washing
ton. He died in February, 1809.

[C]
GENERAL JAMES MITCHELL VARNTJM.
The name of this officer occurs frequently in
the history of the Revolutionary War, in which
he served with much distinction. He was born
at Dracut, Massachusetts, in 1749, and was
graduated in the first class at Brown University,
Providence, R. I., in 1769. He studied law at
East Greenwich, became deeply interested in
the revolutionary contest, and joined the army
in 1775. In February, 1777, he received the ap
pointment of brigadier-general in the continental
service, and on the 3d of March Washington
communicated to him his promotion in a very
flattering letter. In July, 1777, Varnum was
ordered with his brigade to Peekskill, on the
Hudson, to prevent the union of Clinton's forces
in New York with the army of Burgoyne. In
November of the same year he joined Washing
ton's army, and took post at Red Bank, where
he commanded all the American troops on the
Jersey side of the Delaware. His services in the
defence of the forts on the Delaware are noticed
in the text of this work. He was with Washing
ton at Valley Forge during the ensuing winter.
In the spring of 1778, he proposed raising a
battalion of negroes in Rhode Island, and the
legislature passing an act offering freedom to
slaves who should enter the army and pass mus
ter. At the descent on Long Island, in 1778,

30

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

he served under Lafayette. In 1779, the num
ber of officers being larger than was required,
he resigned his commission in the continental
service, and was soon after elected major-general
of the militia of his native State, which office he
continued to hold till his death.
In April, 1780, General Varnum was elected
a member of Congress, in which body he took a
conspicuous part till 1781, when he returned to
Rhode Island and practised law till 1785, when
he was again elected a member of Congress.
Being appointed one of the judges of the Su
preme Court of the Northwest Territory in
1788, he removed to Marietta to enter upon the
duties of that office. But his health having be
come greatly impaired, he fell into a decline,
and died on the 17th of January, 1789. His
career was short, but brilliant. As an officer,
he rendered good service ; especially in the de
fence of the forts on the Delaware, where the
duty was extremely severe. His abilities and
eloquence as a lawyer and legislator, were of a
very high order. He was only thirty-one years
old when he retired from the army, and forty
when he died.

[D.]
MAJOR-GENERAL CHARLES LEE.
General Lee was born in Wales, his family
springing from the same parent stock with the
Earl of Leicester. He may properly be called
a child of Mars, for he was an officer when but
eleven years old. His favorite study was the
science of war, and his warmest wish was to be
come distinguished in it ; but though possessed
of a military spirit, he was ardent in the pursuit
of general knowledge. He acquired a compe
tent skill in Greek and Latin, while his fond
ness for travelling made him acquainted with
the Italian, Spanish, German, and French lan
guages. In 1756 he came to America, captain of a com
pany of grenadiers, and crossed Lake George
with the army, and was present at the defeat of
General Abercrombie at Ticonderoga, where he
received a severe wound. In 1762 he bore a
colonel's commission, and served under Bur

goyne in Portugal, where he greatly distin
guished himself, and received the strongest rec
ommendations for his gallantry ; but his early
attachment to the American colonies, evinced in
his writings against the oppressive acts of par
liament, lost him the favor of the ministry. De
spairing of promotion, and despising a life of
inactivity, he left his native soil and entered
into the service of his Polish majesty, as one of
his aids, with the rank of major-general.
His rambling disposition led him to travel all
over Europe during the years of 1771, 1772,
and part of 1773, and his warmth of temper
drew him into several rencounters, among which
was an affair of honor with an officer in Italy.
The contest was begun with swords, when the
general lost two of his fingers. Recourse was
then had to pistols. His adversary was slain,
and he was obliged to flee from the country, in
order that he might avoid the unpleasant cir
cumstances which might result from this un
happy affair.
General Lee appeared to be influenced by an
innate principle of republicanism ; an attachment
to these principles was implanted in the consti
tution of his mind, and he espoused the cause of
America as a champion of her emancipation from
oppression. Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked
for this country, and arrived at New York on
the 10th of November, 1773. On his arrival,
he became daily more enthusiastic in the cause
of liberty, and travelled rapidly through the
colonies, animating the people, both by conver
sation and his eloquent pen, to a determined
and persevering resistance to British tyranny.
After the battle of Lexington, he accepted
a major-general's commission in the American
army. Previous to this, however, he resigned
his commission in the British service, and relin
quished his half-pay. Immediately upon receiv
ing his appointment, he accompanied General
Washington to the camp at Cambridge, where
he arrived July 2d, 1775, and was received with
every mark of respect.
As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge
that the British General Clinton had left Bos
ton, General Lee was ordered to set forward, to
observe his manceuvres, and adopt measures to

Chap. XIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

meet him in any part of the continent. No
man was better qualified, at this early state of
the war, to penetrate the designs of the enemy
than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and well versed
in European tactics, the soldiers believed him,
of all other officers, the best able to face in the
field an experienced British veteran, and lead
them on to victory.
New York was supposed to be the object of
the enemy, and hither he hastened with all pos
sible expedition. Immediately on his arrival,
Lee took the most active and prompt measures
to put it in a state of defence. He disarmed all
suspected persons within the reach of his com
mand, and proceeded with such rigor against
the tories as to give alarm at his assumption of
military powers. From the tories he exacted a
strong oath, and his bold measures carried ter
ror wherever he appeared.
Not long after, he was appointed to the com
mand of the southern department, and in his
travels through the country he received every
testimony of high respect from the people. Gen
eral Sir Henry Clinton and Sir Peter Parker,
with a powerful fleet and army, attempted the
reduction of Charleston, while he was in the
command. The fleet anchored within half mus
ket-shot of the fort on Sullivan's Island, where
Colonel Moultrie, one of the bravest and most
intrepid of men, commanded. A tremendous
engagement ensued on the 28th of June, 1776,
which lasted twelve hours without intermission.
The whole British force was completely repulsed,
after suffering an irreparable loss.
General Lee and Colonel Moultrie received
the thanks of Congress for their signal bravery
and gallantry.
Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of
his military glory ; the eclat of his name alone
appeared to enchant and animate the most de
sponding heart. But here we pause to contem
plate the humiliating reverse of human events.
He returned to the main army in October ; and
in marching at the head of a large detachment
through the Jerseys, having, from a desire of re
taining a separate command, delayed his march
several days, in disobedience of express orders
from the commander-in-chief, he was guilty of
most culpable negligence in regard to his per

sonal security. He took up his quarters two or
three miles from the main body, and lay for the
night (December 13th, 1776) in a careless, ex
posed situation. Information of this being com
municated to Colonel Harcourt, who commanded
the British light-horse, he proceeded immedi
ately to the house which was General Lee's
head-quarters at Basking Ridge, and obliged the
general to surrender himself a prisoner. They
mounted him on a horse in haste, without his
cloak or hat, and conveyed him in triumph to
New York.
Lee was treated with great severity by the
enemy, who affected to consider him as a state
prisoner and deserter from the service of his
Britannic majesty, and denied him the privileges
of an American officer. General Washington
promptly retaliated the treatment received by
Lee upon the British officers in his possession.
This state of things existed until the capture of
Burgoyne, when a complete change of treatment
was observed towards Lee ; and he was shortly
afterwards exchanged.
The first military act of General Lee, after his
exchange, closed his career in the American
army. Previous to the battle of Monmouth, his
character in general was highly respected. From
the beginning of the contest, his unremitted zeal
in the cause of America excited and influenced
the military spirit of the whole continent ; and
his conversation inculcated the principles of lib
erty among all ranks of the people.
His important services excited the warm grat
itude of many of the friends of America. Hence
it is said that a strong party was formed in Con
gress, and by some discontented officers in the
army, to raise Lee to the first command ; and it
has been suggested by many that General Lee's
conduct at the battle of Monmouth was intended
to effect this plan, for could the odium of the
defeat have been at this time thrown on General
Washington, there is great reason to suppose
that he would have been deprived of his com
mand. It is now to be seen how Lee terminated his
military career. In the battle of Monmouth,
on the 28th of June, 1778, he commanded the
van of the American troops, with orders from
the commander-in-chief to attack the retreating

32

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

enemy. Instead of obeying this order, he con
ducted himself in an unworthy manner, and
greatly disconcerted the arrangements of the
day. Washington, advancing to the field of
battle, met him in his disorderly retreat, and
accosted him with strong expressions of disap
probation. Lee, incapable of brooking even an
implied indignity, and unable to restrain the
warmth of his resentment, used improper lan
guage in return, and some irritation was excited
on both sides. The following letters immedi
ately after passed between Lee and the com
mander-in-chief : "Camp, Englishtown, 1
1st July, 1778. j
" Sie — From the knowledge that I have of
your Excellency's character, I must conclude
that nothing but the misinformation of some
very stupid, or misrepresentation of some very
wicked person, could have occasioned your
making use of such very singular expressions
as you did, on my coming up to the ground
where you had taken post : they implied that I
was guilty either of disobedience of orders, want
of conduct, or want of courage. Your Excel
lency will, therefore, infinitely oblige me by let
ting me know on which of these three articles
you ground your charge, that I may prepare
for my justification, which I have the happiness
to be confident I can do, to the army, to Con
gress, to America, and to the world in general.
Your Excellency must give me leave to observe,
that neither yourself, nor those about your per
son, could, from your situation, be in the least
judges of the merits or demerits of our manoeu
vres ; and, to speak with a becoming pride, I
can assert that to these manceuvres the success
of the day was entirely owing. I can boldly
say, that, had we remained on the first ground —
or had we advanced — or had the retreat been
conducted in a manner different from what it
was — this whole army and the interests of Amer
ica would have risked being sacrificed. I ever
had, and I hope ever shall have, the greatest
respect and veneration for General Washington ;
I think him endowed with many great and good
qualities ; but in this instance I must pronounce
that he has been guilty of an act of cruel injus
tice towards a man who had certainly some pre

tensions to the regard of every servant of his
country ; and I think, sir, I have a right to de
mand some reparation for the injury committed ;
and unless I can obtain it, I must in justice to
myself, when the campaign is closed, which I
believe will close the war, retire from a service
at the head of which is placed a man capable of
offering such injuries : but at the same time, in
justice to you, I must repeat that I from my
soul believe that it was not a motion of your
own breast, but instigated by some of those
dirty earwigs who will forever insinuate them
selves near persons in high office ; for I am really
assured, that, when General Washington acts
from himself, no man in his army will have rea
son to complain of injustice and indecorum.
" I am, sir, and I hope ever shall have reason
to continue, Yours, &c, " Chables Leb.
" His Excellency General Washington."
"Head-quarters, Englishtown, i
28th June, 1778. j
"Sie — I received your letter, dated through
mistake the first of July, expressed, as I con
ceive, in terms highly improper. I am not con
scious of having made use of any singular ex
pressions at the time of my meeting you, as you
intimate. What I recollect to have said was
dictated by duty, and warranted by the occasion.
As soon as circumstances will admit, you shall
have an opportunity, either of justifying yourself
to the army, to Congress, to America, and to
the world in general, or of convincing them that
you are guilty of a breach of orders, and of mis
behavior before the enemy on the 28th instant,
in not attacking them as you had been directed,
and in making an unnecessary, disorderly, and
shameful retreat. I am, sir,
" Your most obedient servant,
" G. Washington."
A court-martial, of which Lord Stirling was
president, was ordered for his trial, and after a
masterly defence by General Lee, found him
guilty of all the charges, and sentenced him to
be suspended from any command in the army
for the term of twelve months. This sentence
was shortly afterwards confirmed by Congress.

Chap. XIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

33

When promulgated, it was like a mortal
wound to the lofty, aspiring spirit of General
Lee ; pointing to his dog, he exclaimed — " Oh
that I was that animal, that I might not call
man my brother !" He became outrageous, and
from that moment he was more open and viru
lent in his attack on the character of the com
mander-in-chief, and did not cease in his un
wearied endeavors, both in conversation and
writings, to lessen his reputation in the army,
and with the public. He was an active abettor
of General Conway, in his calumny and abuse of
Washington, and they were believed to be in
concert in their vile attempts to supersede his
Excellency in the supreme command. With the
hope of effecting his nefarious purpose, he pub
lished a pamphlet replete with scurrilous impu
tations unfavorable to the military talents of the
commander-in-chief; but this, with his other ma
lignant allegations, was consigned to contempt.
At length, Colonel Laurens, one of Washing
ton's aids, unable longer to suffer this gross
abuse of his illustrious friend, demanded of Lee
that satisfaction which custom had sanctioned as
honorable. A rencounter accordingly ensued,
and Lee received a wound in his side.
Lee now finding himself abandoned by his
friends, degraded in the eye of the public, and
despised by the wise and virtuous, retired to his
sequestered plantation in Virginia. In this spot,
secluded from all society, he lived in a sort of
hovel, without glass windows or plastering, or
even a decent article of house furniture ; here
he amused himself with his books and dogs.
On January 18th, 1780, Congress resolved that
Major-general Lee be informed that they have
no further occasion for his services in the army
of the United States. In the autumn of 1782,
wearied with his forlorn situation and broken
spirit, he resorted to Philadelphia, and took
lodgings in an ordinary tavern. He was soon
seized with a disease of the lungs, and after a
few days confinement, he terminated his mortal
course, a martyr to chagrin and disappointment,
October 2d, 1782. The last words which he
was heard to utter, were, " Stand by me, my
brave grenadiers."
General Lee was rather above the middle
size, " plain in his person even to ugliness, and

careless in his manners even to a degree of rude
ness ; his nose was so remarkably aquiline that
it appeared as a real deformity. His voice was
rough, his garb ordinary, his deportment mo
rose. He was ambitious of fame, without the
dignity to support it. In private life he sunk
into the vulgarity of the clown." His remark
able partiality for dogs was such, that a number
of these animals constantly followed in his train,
and the ladies complained that he allowed his
canine adherents to follow him into the parlor,
and not unfrequently a favorite one might be
seen on a chair next his elbow at table.
While in Philadelphia, shortly before his death,
the following ludicrous circumstance took place,
which created no small diversion.
The late Judge Breckenridge, whose poignan
cy of satire and eccentricity of character was
nearly a match for that of the general, had
dipped his pen in some gall, which greatly irri
tated Lee's feelings, insomuch that he challenged
him to single combat, which Breckenridge de
clined in a very eccentric reply. Lee, having
furnished himself with a horsewhip, determined
to chastise him ignominiously on the very first
opportunity. Observing Breckenridge going
down Market-street, a few days after, he gave
him chase, and Breckenridge took refuge in a
public house, and barricaded the door of the
room he entered. A number of persons collect
ed to see the result. Lee damned him, and in
vited him to come out and fight him like a man.
Breckenridge replied that he did not like to be
shot at, and made some other curious observa
tions, which only increased Lee's irritation and
the mirth of the spectators. Lee, with the most
bitter imprecation, ordered him to come out,
when he said he would horsewhip him. Breck
enridge replied, that he had no occasion for a
discipline of that kind. The amusing scene last
ed some time, until at length Lee, finding that
he could accomplish no other object than calling
forth Breckenridge's wit for the amusement of
the bystanders, retired.
General Lee was master of a most genteel
address, but was rude in his manners, and ex
cessively negligent in his appearance and be
havior. His appetite was so whimsical that he
was everywhere a most troublesome guest. Two

34

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

or three dogs usually followed him wherever he
went. As an officer he was brave and able, and
did much towards disciplining the American
army. With vigorous powers of mind, and a
brilliant fancy, he was a correct and elegant
classical scholar, and he both wrote and spoke
his native language with propriety, force, and
beauty. His temper was severe ; the history of
his life is little else than the history of disputes,
quarrels, and duels, in every part of the world.
He was vindictive, avaricious, immoral, impious,
and profane. His principles, as would be ex
pected from his character, were most abandoned,
and he ridiculed every tenet of rehgion. Two
virtues he possessed to an eminent degree, sin
cerity and veracity. It was notorious that Gen

eral Lee was a man of unbounded personal am
bition, and, conscious of his European education,
and pre-eminent military talents and prowess, he
affected a superiority over Washington, and con
stantly aimed at the supreme command, little
scrupulous as to the means employed to accom
plish his own advancement.
The following is an extract from General Lee's
will. " 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 while
dead."

CHAPTER XT.
1778.
WASHINGTON DIRECTS A DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.
Clinton's reasons for evacuating Philadelphia.— Arrival of Count D'Estaing at the Capes of the Delaware.— He dis
patches a frigate with M. Gerard to Philadelphia, and sails to the Hook. — Washington sends colonels Laurens
and Hamilton to confer with him.— Washington directs Sullivan to prepare for a descent on Rhode Island, in
which D'Estaing is to co-operate. — Greene ordered to join him. — Washington's commendation of Greene. — D'Es
taing anives at Newport. — Pigot concentrates his forces. — Sullivan lands on the island. — D'Estaing offended. —
A British fleet arrives. — D'Estaing goes out to attack it. — Sullivan prepares to attack Pigot. — A storm prevents
him. — Distress of the army. — D'Estaing returns. — Lafayette and Greene sent to solicit his aid for two days. — He
refuses, and sails for Boston. — Sullivan, after some skirmishing, evacuates the island. — Mutual irritation of the
American and French officers. — Washington interposes, and, aided by Lafayette, restores union.. — Lord Howe
follows D'Estaing to Nantasket Roads, but declines to attack him, and returns to New York. — Ravaging expe
dition of General Grey on the coast towns. — Washington removes his camp from White Plains to Fredericksburg.
— Grey massacres Baylor's detachment. — Colonel Butler defeats Donop. — Ferguson's expedition to Egg Harbor. —
He surprises Pulaski, and massacres a portion of his men. — Admiral Byron arrives at New York, sails to Boston,
encounters a storm, and goes to Rhode Island to refit. — Lafayette wishes to quit the service and return to France.
— Washington prevails on him to accept an unlimited furlough, and retain his commission. — Clinton reduces his
force in New York by sending detachments to the West Indies and the Southern States. — Washington places the
army in winter-quarters. — Colonel Campbell defeats General Robert Howe in Georgia, and takes Savannah. —
Prevost takes Sunbury, and thus completes the conquest of Georgia. — Naval exploits of Biddle, Jones, Barry,
and Talbot.

' Previous to evacuating Philadelphia,
Clinton had received notice from his
government that, in consequence of the
alliance between France and the United
States, a new plan of operations had
been determined on. The French were
to be attacked in their West Indian
possessions, by way of diversion from
the main scene of action. Five thou
sand men were detached from his army
to aid in the execution of this purpose,
and three thousand were sent to Flor
ida. Clinton was also apprised that a
French fleet would probably appear in

the Delaware, and thus prevent any
possibility of his leaving Philadelphia
by water. Hence his sudden depart
ure from Philadelphia with the remain
der of his forces. He was only just in
time to save his army and Lord Howe's
fleet. On the 5th of July, the day on which
the British army arrived at New
York, the Count D'Estaing, with
a French fleet, appeared on the coast of
Virginia. In the month of March, the French
ambassador in London, by order of

1TT8.

36

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

his government, notified to the British
court the treaties entered into between
France and America. In a few days
afterwards he quitted London without
the ceremony of taking leave, and about
the same time the British ambassador
left Paris in a similar manner. This
was considered equivalent to a declara
tion of war ; and although war was not
actually declared, yet both parties dili
gently prepared for hostilities.
The French equipped at Toulon a
fleet of twelve sail of the line and six
frigates, and gave the command to
Count D'Estaing, who, with a consider
able number of troops on board, sailed
on the 13th of April ; but, meeting with
contrary winds, he did not reach the
coast of America till the 5th of July.
He expected to find the British army
in Philadelphia, and the fleet in the
Delaware ; and if this expectation had
been realized, the consequences to Brit
ain must have been calamitous. But
the British fleet and army were at
Sandy Hook or New York before the
French fleet arrived on the coast.
Count D'Estaing touched at the capes
of the Delaware on the 5th of July, and
on learning that the British had evac
uated Philadelphia, he dispatched one
of his frigates up the river with M.
Gerard, the first minister from France
to the United States, and then sailed
for Sandy Hook.
Washington received intelligence of
D'Estaing's arrival, in a letter from the
President of Congress, while he was at
Paramus. The next day he received a

second letter on the same subject, in
closing two resolutions, — one directing
him to co-operate with the French ad
miral, and the other authorizing him to
call on the States from New Hampshire
to New Jersey, inclusive, for such aids
of militia as he might deem necessary
for the operations of the allied arms.
He determined to proceed immediately
to White Plains, whence the army might
co-operate with more facility in the exe
cution of any attempt which might be
made by the fleet, and dispatched Lieu
tenant-colonel Laurens, one of his aids-
de-camp, with all the information rela
tive to the enemy, as well as to his own
army, which might be useful to D'Es
taing. Lieutenant-colonel Laurens* was
authorized to consult on future conjoint
operations, and to establish conventional
signals for the purpose of facilitating
the communication of intelligence.
The French admiral, on arriving off
the Hook, dispatched Major de Choisi,
a gentleman of his family, to Washing
ton, for the purpose of communicating
fully his views and his strength. His
first object was to attack New York.
If this should be found impracticable,
he was desirous of turning his attention
to Rhode Island. To assist in coming to
a result on these enterprises, Washing
ton dispatched Lieutenant-colonel Ham
ilton, another of his aids-de-camp, with
such further communications as had
been suggested by inquiries made since
the departure of Laurens.

• See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. XV.]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

37

Fearing ¦ that the water on the bar at
the entrance of the harbor was not of
sufficient depth to admit the passage of
the largest ships of the French fleet
without much difficulty and danger,
Washington had turned his attention
to other objects which might be event
ually pursued. General Sullivan, who
commanded the troops in Rhode Island,
was directed (July 21st) to prepare for
an enterprise against Newport ; and La
fayette was detached with two brigades
to join him at Providence. The next
day, Lieutenant-colonel Hamilton re
turned to camp with the final determi
nation of the Count D'Estaing to relin
quish the meditated attack on the fleet
in the harbor of New York, in conse
quence of the impracticability of pass
ing the bar.
General Greene was immediately or
dered to Rhode Island, of which State
he was a native ; and Lieutenant-colonel
Laurens was directed to attach himself
to the French admiral, and to facilitate
all his views by procuring whatever
might give them effect, after which he
was to act with the army under Sul
livan. Writing to the President of Congress
(Aug. 3d), Washington says : " As the
army was encamped, and there was no
great prospect of a sudden removal, I
judged it advisable to send General
Greene to the eastward on Wednesday
last, being fully persuaded his services,
as well in the quartermaster line as in
the field, would be of material import
ance in the expedition against the ene-
Vol. II. —6

my in that quarter. He is intimately
acquainted with the whole of that coun
try, and, besides, he has an extensive
interest and influence in it. And, in
justice to General Greene, I take occa
sion to observe, that the public is much
indebted to him for his judicious man
agement and active exertions in his
present department. When he entered
upon it, he found it in a most confused,
distracted, and destitute state. This, by
his conduct and industry, has under
gone a very happy change, and such as
enabled us, with great facility, to make
a sudden move, with the whole army
and baggage, from Valley Forge, in pur
suit of the enemy, and to perform a
march to this place. In a word, he has
given the most general satisfaction, and
his affairs carry much the face of meth
od and system. I also consider it as an
act of justice to speak of the conduct
of Colonel Wadsworth, commissary-gen
eral. He has been indefatigable in his
exertions to provide for the army ; and,
since his appointment, our supplies of
provision have been good and ample."
We copy this extract from Washing
ton's correspondence, because it does
justice to Greene, and gives us informa
tion of the favorable change which had
taken place in the condition of the ar
my since its dreary sojourn at Valley
Forge. The resolution being taken to pro
ceed against Rhode Island, the fleet got
under way, and on the 25th of July ap
peared off Newport, and cast anchor
about five miles from that place ; soon

38

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

after which, General Sullivan visited
D'Estaing, and concerted with him a
plan of operations. The fleet was to
enter the harbor, and land the French
troops on the west side of the island, a
little to the north of Dyer's Island.
The Americans were to land at the
same time on the opposite coast, under
cover of the guns of a frigate.
A delay of several days now took
place on account of the tardiness of the
neighboring militia in joining Sullivan's
army. As the militia of New Hampshire
and Massachusetts approached, Sullivan
joined Greene at Tiverton, and it was
agreed with the admiral that the fleet
should enter the main channel immedi
ately (August 8th), and that the de
scent should be made the succeeding
day. The French fleet passed the Brit
ish batteries, and entered the harbor
without receiving or doing any consid
erable damage.
The militia not arriving precisely at
the time they were expected, Sullivan
could not hazard the movement which
had been concerted, and stated to the
count the necessity of postponing it till
the next day. Meanwhile, the prepa
rations for the descent being perceived,
General Pigot drew the troops which
had been stationed on the north end of
the island into the lines at Newport.
On discovering this circumstance the
next morning, Sullivan determined to
avail himself of it, and to take imme
diate possession of the works which
had been abandoned. The whole army

crossed the east passage, and landed on
the north end of Rhode Island. This
movement gave great offence to D'Es
taing, who resented the indelicacy sup
posed to have been committed by Sulli
van in landing before the French, and
without consulting him.
Unfortunately, some difficulties, on
subjects of mere punctilio, had previ
ously arisen. D'Estaing was a land as
well as sea officer, and held the high
rank of lieutenant-general in the service
of France. Sullivan being only a major-
general, some misunderstanding on this
delicate point had been apprehended ;
and Washington had suggested to him
the necessity of taking every precaution
to avoid it. This, it was supposed, had
been effected in their first conference,
in which it was agreed that the Ameri
cans should land first, after which the
French should land, to be commanded
by D'Estaing in person. The motives
for this arrangement are not stated.
Either his own after-reflections or the
suggestions of others dissatisfied D'Es
taing with it, and he insisted that the
descent should be made on both sides
of the island precisely at the same in
stant, and that one wing of, the Ameri
can army should be attached to the
French, and land with them. He also
declined commanding in person, and
wished Lafayette to take charge of the
French troops as well as of the Ameri
cans attached to them.
It being feared that this alteration of
the plan might endanger both its parts,
D'Estaing was prevailed on to reduce

Chap. XV.]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

39

his demand from one wing of the Amer
ican army to one thousand militia.
When, afterwards, Sullivan crossed over
into the island before the time to which
he had himself postponed the descent,
and without giving previous notice to
the count of this movement, considera
ble excitement was manifested. The
count refused to answer Sullivan's letter,
and charged Lieutenant-colonel Fleury,
who delivered it, with being more an
American than a Frenchman.
At this time a British fleet appeared,
which, after sailing close into the land,
and communicating with General Pigot,
withdrew some distance, and came to
anchor off Point Judith, just without
the narrow inlet leading into the harbor.
After it had been ascertained that
the destination of the Count D'Estaing
was America, he was followed by a
squadron of twelve ships of the line
under Admiral Byron, who was de
signed to relieve Lord Howe, that no
bleman having solicited his recall. The
vessels composing this squadron meet
ing with weather unusually bad for the
season, and being separated in different
storms, arrived, after lingering through
a tedious passage, in various degrees of
distress, on different and remote parts
of the American coast. Between the
departure of D'Estaing from the Hook,
on the 23d of July, and the 30th of that
month, four ships of sixty-four and fifty
guns arrived at Sandy Hook.
This addition to the British fleet,
though it left Lord Howe considerably
inferior to the Count D'Estaing, deter

mined him to attempt the relief of
Newport. He sailed from New York
on the 6th of August, and on the 9th
appeared in sight of the French fleet,
before intelligence of his departure
could be received by the admiral.
At the time of his arrival the wind
set directly into the harbor, so that it
was impossible to get out of it ; but it
shifted suddenly to the northeast the
next morning, and the count determin
ed to stand out to sea and give bat
tle. Previous to leaving port (August
10th), he informed General Sullivan
that, on his return, he would land his
men as that officer should advise.
Not choosing to give the advantage
of the weather-gauge, Lord Howe also
weighed anchor and stood out to sea.
He was followed by D'Estaing, and
both fleets were soon out of sight.
The militia were now arrived, and
Sullivan's army amounted to ten thou
sand men. Notwithstanding some ob
jections made by Lafayette to his com
mencing operations before the return of
D'Estaing, Sullivan determined to com
mence the siege immediately.
Before this determination could be
executed, a furious storm blew down
all the tents, rendered the arms unfit
for immediate use, and greatly damaged
the ammunition, of which fifty rounds
had just been delivered to each man.
The soldiers, having no shelter, suffer
ed extremely ; and several perished in
the storm, M hich continued three days.
On the return of fair weather the siege
was commenced, and continued without

40

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

any material circumstance for several
days. As no intelligence had been received
from the admiral, the situation of the
American army was becoming very crit
ical. On the evening of the 19th, their
anxieties were relieved for a moment
by the reappearance of the French
fleet. The two admirals, desirous the one of
gaining, and the other of retaining, the
advantage of the wind, had employed
two days in manceuvering, without com
ing to action. Towards the close of the
second, they were on the point of en
gaging, when they were separated by
the violent storm which had been so
severely felt on shore, and which dis
persed both fleets. Some single vessels
afterwards fell in with each other, but
no important capture was made ; and
both fleets retired in a very shattered
condition, the one to the harbor of
New York, and the other to that of
Newport. A letter was immediately dispatched
by D'Estaing to Sullivan, informing him
that, in pursuance of orders from the
king, and of the advice of all his offi
cers, he had taken the resolution to
carry the fleet to Boston. His instruc
tions directed him to sail for Boston
should his fleet meet with any disaster,
or should a superior British fleet appear
on the coast.
To be abandoned by the fleet in such
critical circumstances, and not only de
prived of the brilliant success which
they thought within their reach, but

exposed to imminent hazard, caused
much disappointment, irritation, and
alarm in the American camp. Lafa
yette and Greene were dispatched to
D'Estaing to remonstrate with him on
the subject, and to press his co-opera
tion and assistance for two days only,
in which time they flattered themselves
the most brilliant success would crown
their efforts. But the count was not
popular in the fleet : he was a military
officer as well as a naval commander,
and was considered as belonging to the
army rather than to the navy. The
officers of the sea service looked on
him with a jealous and envious eye,
and were willing to thwart him as far
as they were able with safety to them
selves. When, on the pressing applica
tion of Lafayette and Greene, he again
submitted the matter to their consider
ation, they took advantage of the letter
of the admiral's instructions, and unan
imously adhered to their former reso
lution, sacrificing the service of their
prince to their own petty jealousies
and animosities. D'Estaing, therefore,
felt himself constrained to set sail for
Boston. The departure of the French marine
force left Sullivan's army in a critical
situation. It was in a firm reliance on
the co-operation of the French fleet that
the expedition was undertaken ; and its
sudden and unexpected departure not
only disappointed the sanguine hopes of
speedy success, but exposed the army
to much hazard, for the British troops
under General Pigot might have been

Chap. XV.]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

41

reinforced, and the fleet might have cut
off Sullivan's retreat.
The departure of the French fleet
greatly discouraged the American army,
and in a few days Sullivan's force was
considerably diminished by desertion.
On the 26th of August he therefore re
solved to raise the siege, and retreat to
the north end of the island, and took
the necessary precautions for the suc
cessful execution of that movement.
In the night of the 28th, Sullivan
silently decamped, and retired unob
served. Early in the morning the Brit
ish discovered his retreat, and instantly
commenced a pursuit. They soon over
took the light troops who covered the
retreat of the American army, and who
continued skirmishing and retreating
till they reached the north end of the
island, where the army occupied a strong
position at a place where the British for
merly had a fortified post, the works of
which had been strengthened during
the two preceding days. There a severe
conflict, for about half an hour, ensued,
when the combatants mutually with
drew from the field. The loss of the
armies was nearly equal, amounting to
between two and three hundred killed
or wounded in the course of the day.
On the 30th of August there was a
good deal of cannonading, but neither
party ventured to attack the other.
The British were expecting reinforce
ments ; and Sullivan, although he made
a show of resolutely maintaining his
post, was busily preparing for the evac
uation of the island. In the evening he

silently struck his tents, embarked his
army, with all the artillery, baggage,
and stores, on board a great number of
boats, and landed safely on the conti
nent, before the British suspected his
intention to abandon the post. General
Sullivan made a timely escape ; for Sir
Henry Clinton was on his way, with
four thousand men, to the assistance of
General Pigot. He was detained four
days in the Sound by contrary winds ;
but arrived on the day after the Amer
icans left the island. A very short de
lay would probably have proved fatal
to their army.
The most sanguine expectations had
been entertained throughout the United
States of the reduction of Rhode Island
and the capture of the British force
which defended it; so that the disap
pointment and mortification on the fail
ure of the enterprise were exceeding
ly bitter. The irritation against the
French, who were considered the au
thors of the miscarriage, was violent.
Sullivan was confident of success ; and
his chagrin at the departure of the
French fleet made him use some expres
sions, in a general order, which gave
offence to D'Estaing.
Washington foresaw the evils likely
to result from the general and mutual
irritation which prevailed, and exerted
all his influence to calm the minds ot
both parties. He had a powerful co
adjutor in Lafayette, who was as de
servedly dear to the Americans as to
the French. His first duties were due
to his king and country ; but he loved

42

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book D7.

America, and was so devoted to the
commander-in-chief of its armies, as to
enter into his views, and second his
softening conciliatory measures, with
truly filial affection.
Washington also wrote to General
Heath, who commanded at Boston, and
to Sullivan and Greene, who command
ed at Rhode Island. In his letter to
General Heath, he stated his fears
" that the departure of the French fleet
from Rhode Island, at so critical a mo
ment, would not only weaken the confi
dence of the people in their new allies,
but produce such prejudice and resent
ment as might prevent their giving the
fleet, in its present distress, such zealous
and effectual assistance as was demand
ed by the exigence of affairs, and the
true interests of America ;" and added,
" that it would be sound policy to com
bat these effects, and to give the best
construction of what had happened ;
and at the same time to make strenu
ous exertions for putting the French
fleet, as soon as possible, in a condition
to defend itself, and be useful." He
also observed as follows ; " The depart
ure of the fleet from Rhode Island is
not yet publicly announced here ; but
when it is, I intend to ascribe it to ne
cessity produced by the damage re
ceived in the late storm. This, it ap
pears to me, is the idea which ought to
be generally propagated. As I doubt
not the force of these reasons will strike
you equally with myself, I would rec
ommend to you to use your utmost in
fluence to palliate and soften matters,

and to induce those whose business it
is to provide succors of every kind for
the fleet, to employ their utmost zeal
and activity in doing it. It is our duty
to make the best of our misfortunes,
and not suffer passion to interfere with
our interest and the public good."
Writing to General Sullivan, he ob
served : " The disagreement between
the army under your command and the
fleet, has given me very singular unea
siness. The continent at large is con
cerned in our cordiality, and it should
be kept up by all possible means con
sistent with our honor and policy. First
impressions are generally longest re
tained, and will serve to fix in a great
degree our national character with the
French. In our conduct towards them,
we should remember, that they are a
people old in war, very strict in military
etiquette, and apt to take fire when
others seem scarcely warmed. Permit
me to recommend, in the most particular
manner, the cultivation of harmony and
good agreement, and your endeavors to
destroy that ill-humor which may have
found its way among the officers. It is
of the utmost importance, too, that the
soldiers and the people should know
nothing of this misunderstanding ; or if
it has reached them, that means may
be used to stop its progress, and pre
vent its effects."
To General Greene, Washington
wrote : " I have not now time to take
notice of the several arguments which
were made use of, for and against the
count's quitting the harbor of New-

Chap. XV]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

43

port, and sailing for Boston. Right or
wrong, it will probably disappoint our
sanguine expectations of success, and,
which I deem a still worse consequence,
I fear it will sow the seeds of dissension
and distrust between us and our new
allies, unless the most prudent measures
be taken to suppress the feuds and jeal
ousies that have already arisen. I de
pend much on your temper and influ
ence to conciliate that animosity which
subsists between the American and
French officers in our service. I beg
you will take every measure to keep
the protest entered into by the general
officers from being made public. Con
gress, sensible of the ill consequences
that will flow from our differences being
known to the world, have passed a re
solve to that purpose. Upon the whole,
my dear sir, you can conceive my mean
ing better than I can express it ; and I
therefore fully depend on your exerting
yourself to heal all private animosities
between our principal officers and the
French, and to prevent all illiberal ex
pressions and reflections that may fall
from the army at large."
Washington also improved the first
opportunity of recommencing his cor
respondence with Count D'Estaing, in a
letter to him, which, without noticing
the disagreements that had taken place,
was well calculated to soothe every un
pleasant sensation which might have
disturbed his mind. In the course of
a short correspondence, the irritation
which threatened serious mischiefs gave
way to returning good understanding

and cordiality ; although here and there
popular ill-will manifested itself in rath
er serious quarrels and disputes with the
French sailors and marines.
Meantime, in the storm which had
separated the fleets of D'Estaing and
Howe when just about to engage, the
British fleet had suffered considerably,
but had not sustained so much damage
as the French. In a short time, Lord
Howe was again ready for sea; and,
having learned that D'Estaing had sailed
for Boston, he left New York with the
intention of reaching that place before
him, or of attacking him there, if he
found it could be done with advantage.
But on entering the bay of Boston, he
perceived the French fleet in Nantasket
Roads, so judiciously stationed, and so
well protected by batteries, that there
was no# prospect of attacking it with
success. He therefore returned to New
York, where, finding that by fresh ar
rivals his fleet was decidedly superior
to that of the French, he availed himself
of the permission which he had received
some time before, and resigned the com
mand to Admiral Gambier, who was to
continue in the command till the arrival
of Admiral Byron, who was daily ex
pected from Halifax.
Sir Henry Clinton, finding that Gen
eral Sullivan had effected his retreat
from Rhode Island, set out on his return
to New York ; but, that the expedition
might not be wholly ineffectual, he med
itated an attack on New London, situ
ated on a river which falls into the
Sound. The wind, however, being un-

44

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book D7.

favorable to the enterprise, he gave
the command of the troops on board
the transports to Major-general Sir
Charles Grey, with orders to proceed
in an expedition against Buzzard's Bay,
and continued his voyage to New
York* In obedience to the orders which he
had received, General Grey sailed to
Acushnet River, where he landed on
the 5th of September, and destroyed
all the shipping in the river, amounting
to more than seventy sail. He burned
a great part of the towns of Bedford
and Fairhaven, the one on the west and
the other on the east bank, destroying
a considerable quantity of military and
naval stores, provisions, and merchan
dise. He landed at six in the evening ;
and so rapid were his movements, that
the work of destruction was #accom-
plished and the troops re-embarked be
fore noon the next day. He then pro
ceeded to the island called Martha's
Vineyard, a resort of privateers, where
he took or burned several vessels, de
stroyed the salt works, compelled the
inhabitants to surrender their arms,
and levied from them a contribution of
one thousand sheep and three hundred
oxen. Having mercilessly ravaged the sea-
coast, the hero of the Paoli massacre
s This officer was the same Grey who had surprised
Wayne's detachment near the Paoli Tavern, in Pennsyl
vania (Sept. 20, 1777), as already related in the text.
His merciless massacre of Wayne's men, with the bay
onet, will ever be remembered. A monument is erected
on the spot where the massacre took place, consecrated
to the memory of the sufferers.

returned, heavily laden with plunder, to
New York.
The return of the British fleet and
of the troops under Grey relieved the
Americans from the anxious apprehen
sion of an attack on their allies at Boston.
Under that apprehension, Washington
had broken up his camp at White Plains,
and, proceeding northward, taken a po
sition at Fredericksburg, thirty miles
from West Point, near the borders
of Connecticut. He detached generals
Gates and M'Dougall to Danbury, in
Connecticut, in order that they might
be in readiness to move as circumstan
ces might require ; and he sent General
Putnam to West Point, to watch the
North River, and the important passes
in the Highlands. But the return of
the fleet and troops to New York quiet
ed those apprehensions.
Meanwhile, Washington received in
telligence that an expedition was pre
paring at New York, the object of
which was not clearly apparent; but
soon after the return of the troops un
der Grey, the British army advanced
in great force on both sides of the North
River. The column on the west bank,
consisting of five thousand men, com
manded by Cornwallis, extended from
the Hudson to the Hackensack. The
division on the east side, consisting of
about three thousand men, under Knyp
hausen, stretched from the North River
to the Bronx. The communication be
tween them was kept up by flat-bot
tomed boats, by means of which the two
divisions could have been readily united,

Chap. XV.]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

45

if the Americans had advanced against
either ol them.
Washington sent out several detach
ments to observe the movements of
those columns. Colonel Baylor, who
with his regiment of cavalry, consisting
of upwards of a hundred men, had been
stationed, near Paramus, crossed the
Hackensack on the morning of the 2 7 th
of September, and occupied Tappan, or
Herringtown, a small village near New
Tappan, where some militia were posted.
Of these circumstances Cornwallis re
ceived immediate notice, and he formed
a plan to surprise and cut off both the
cavalry and militia. The execution of
the enterprise against Baylor was in
trusted to the unscrupulous General
Grey; and Colonel Campbell, with a
detachment from Knyphausen's divi
sion, was to cross the river and attack
the militia at New Tappan. Colonel
Campbell's part of the plan failed, by
some delay in the passage of the river ;
during which a deserter informed the
militia of their danger, and they saved
themselves by flight. But Grey com
pletely surprised Baylor's troops, and
killed, wounded, or took the greater
part of them. Colonel Baylor was
wounded and made prisoner. The
slaughter on that occasion, which, as
at the Paoli, was a literal massacre of
surprised and defenceless men, excited
much indignation, and was the subject
of loud complaints throughout the Uni
ted States.
Three days after the surprise of Bay
lor, Colonel Richard Butler, with a de-
Vol. IL— 7

tachment of infantry, assisted by Major
Henry Lee with part of his cavalry, fell
in with a party of fifteen chasseurs and
about one hundred yagers, under Cap
tain Donop, on whom they made such
a rapid charge, that, without the loss
of a man, they killed ten of them on
the spot, and took about twenty pris
oners. The movement of the British army
up the North River, already mentioned,
was made for the purpose of foraging,
and also to cover a meditated attack on
Little Egg Harbor ; and having accom
plished its object, it returned to New
York. Little Egg Harbor, situated on
the coast of Jersey, was a rendezvous of
privateers ; and being so near the en
trance to New York, ships bound to
that port were much exposed to their
depredations. An expedition against it
was therefore planned, and the conduct
of the enterprise intrusted to Captain
Patrick Ferguson of the seventeenth
regiment, with about three hundred
men, assisted by Captain Collins of the
navy. He sailed from New York ; but,
short as the passage was, he was de
tained several days by contrary winds,
and did not arrive at the place of his
destination till the evening of the 5th
of October. The Americans had got
notice of his design, and had sent to sea
such of their privateers as were ready
for sailing. They had also hauled the
largest of the remaining vessels, which
were chiefly prizes, twenty miles up the
river to Chesnut Neck, and had carried
their smaller vessels still further into

46

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

the country. Ferguson proceeded to
Chesnut Neck, burned the vessels there,
destroyed the storehouses and public
works of every sort ; and, in returning,
committed many depredations on pri
vate property.
Count Pulaski, with his legionary
corps, composed of three companies of
foot and a troop of horse, officered prin
cipally by foreigners, had been detached
by Washington into Jersey to check
these depredations. He was ordered
towards Little Egg Harbor, and lay,
without due vigilance, eight or ten miles
from the coast. One Juliet, a French
man, who had deserted from the British
service and obtained a commission in
Pulaski's corps, re-deserted, joined Cap
tain Ferguson at Little Egg Harbor,
after his return from Chesnut Neck,
and gave him exact information of the
strength and situation of Pulaski's
troops. Ferguson and Collins immedi
ately resolved to surprise the Polish no
bleman ; and for that purpose, on the
15th of October, they embarked two
hundred and fifty men in boats, rowed
ten miles up the river before daybreak,
landed within a small distance of his
infantry, left fifty men to guard their
boats, and with the remainder of their
force suddenly fell on the unsuspicious
detachment, killed fifty of them, among
whom were the Baron de Bose and
Lieutenant de la Borderie, and retreat
ed, with scarcely any loss, before they
could be attacked by Pulaski's cav
alry. This was another massacre similar to

those of the infamous Grey.* Only five
prisoners were taken. The commander
pretended to have received information
that Pulaski had ordered his men to
give no quarter ; but this was false.
Admiral Byron reached New York,
and took command of the fleet about
the middle of September. After re
pairing his shattered vessels, he sailed
for the port of Boston. Soon after his
arrival in the bay, fortune disconcerted
all his plans. A furious storm drove
him out to sea, and damaged his fleet so
much that he found it necessary to put
into Newport to refit. This favorable
moment was seized by the Count D'Es
taing, who sailed on the 3d of Novem
ber for the West Indies.
Thus terminated an expedition from
which the most important advantages
had been anticipated. A variety of
accidents had defeated plans judiciously
formed, which had every probability of
success in their favor.
Lafayette, ambitious of fame on an
other theatre, was now desirous of re
turning to France. Expecting war on
the continent of Europe, he was anxious
to tender his services to his king, and
to his native country.
From motives of real friendship as
well as of policy, Washington was desir-

a The British government rewarded Grey for his cru
elty by making him a peer. He was the father of Earl
Grey, who became prime minister of Great Britain. This
reward to Colonel Grey was in strict consistency with the
spirit in which the whole war against the United States
was conducted. Fortunately, the cruel and brutal out
rages of the invaders reacted on themselves, and contrib
uted greatly to the final result.

Chap. XV]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

41

ous of preserving the connection of this
officer with the army, and of strength
ening his attachment to America. He
therefore expressed to Congress his wish
that Lafayette, instead of resigning his
commission, might have unlimited leave
of absence, to return when it should be
convenient to himself ; and might carry
with him every mark of the confidence
of the government.
This policy was adopted by Congress
in its full extent. The partiality of
America for Lafayette was well placed.
Never did a foreigner, whose primary
attachments to his own country re
mained undiminished, feel more solici
tude for the welfare of another, than
was unceasingly manifested by this
young nobleman for the United States.
The French alliance having effected
a change in the position of affairs on
the ocean, Congress devoted a good
deal of attention to naval matters ; sev
eral new vessels were built, and others
were purchased ; and the present year
gave token of the spirit and abihty of
some of our earlier naval officers
in contending with a navy usu
ally held to be invincible. Early in
the year, Captain Biddle, in the Ran
dolph, a frigate of thirty-six guns, en
gaged his majesty's ship, the Yarmouth,
a sixty-four ; but after an action of
twenty minutes, the Randolph blew up,
and Captain Biddle and crew perished,
with the exception of only four men,
who were picked up a few days after
on a piece of wreck. The celebrated
Paul Jones made his appearance on the

17T8.

English coast during this year, and ren
dered his name a terror by the bold
and daring exploits which he performed.
Captain Barry, off the coast of Maine,
behaved in a most gallant manner, in
an action with two English ships, sus
taining the contest for seven hours, and
at last escaping with his men on shore.
Captain Talbot, in October of this year,
distinguished himself by a well-planned
and successful attack upon a British
vessel, off Rhode Island. The schooner
Pigot, moored at the mouth of Seconset
River, effectually barred the passage,
broke up the local trade, and cut off
the supplies of provisions and reinforce
ments for that part of the colony. Tal
bot, earnestly desirous of relieving the
country of this annoyance, obtained the
consent of General Sullivan to make the
attempt. With his usual alacrity, he
set about the affair, and was entirely
successful. The Pigot was captured
and carried off in triumph by the gal
lant band under Talbot. In the suc
ceeding November, Captain Talbot re
ceived a complimentary letter from the
president of Congress, together with a
resolve of Congress, presenting him with
the commission of lieutenant-colonel in
the army of the United States.*
There being no prospect of an active
winter campaign in the Northern or
Middle States, and the climate admit
ting of military operations elsewhere, a
detachment from the British army, con-
0 For a more detailed account of the naval services of
Biddle, Jones, and Barry, see Documents B, C, and D, at
the end of this chapter.

48

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

sisting of five thousand men command
ed by Major-general Grant, sailed, early
in November, under a strong convoy,
for the West India islands ; and, to
wards the end of the same month, an
other embarkation was made for the
southern parts of the continent. This
second detachment was commanded by
Lieutenant-colonel Campbell, who was
escorted by Commodore Hyde Parker,
and was destined to act against the
Southern States.
As a force sufficient for the defence of
New York yet remained, the American
army retired into winter-quar-
1178. ^erS- ^Be mam body was can
toned in Connecticut, on both
sides the North River, about West Point,
and at Middlebrook. Light troops were
stationed nearer the lines ; and the cav
alry were drawn into the interior to re
cruit the horses for the next campaign.
In this distribution, the protection of
the country, the security of important
points, and a cheap and convenient sup
ply of provisions, were consulted.
The troops again wintered in huts ;
but they were used to this mode of
passing that inclement season. Though
far from being well-clothed, their con
dition in that respect was so much im
proved by supplies from France, that
they disregarded the inconveniences to
which they were exposed.
Colonel Campbell, who sailed from
the Hook about the last of November,
1*778, escorted by a small squadron com
manded by Commodore Hyde Parker,
reached the isle of Tybee, near the Sa

vannah, on the 23d of December ; and,
in a few days, the fleet and the trans
ports passed the bar, and anchored in
the river.
The command of the Southern army,
composed of the troops of South Caro
lina and Georgia, had been committed
to Major-general Robert Howe, who, in
the course of the preceding summer,
had invaded East Florida. The dis
eases incident to the climate made such
ravages among his raw soldiers, that,
though he had scarcely seen an enemy,
he found himself compelled to hasten
out of the country with considerable
loss. After this disastrous enterprise,
his army, consisting of between six and
seven hundred continental troops, aided
by a few hundred militia, had encamped
in the neighborhood of the town of Sa
vannah, situated on the southern bank
of the river bearing that name. The
country about the mouth of the river is
one track of deep marsh, intersected by
creeks and cuts of water, impassable for
troops at any time of the tide, except
over causeways extending through the
sunken ground.
Without much opposition, Lieutenant-
colonel Campbell effected a landing on
the 29th, about three miles below the
town ; upon which Howe formed his
line of battle. His left was secured by
the river ; and along the whole extent
of his front was a morass which stretched
to his right, and was believed by him
to be impassable for such a distance, as
effectually to secure that wing.
After reconnoitering the country, Co-

Chap. XV.]

DESCENT ON RHODE ISLAND.

49

lonel Campbell advanced on the great
road leading to Savannah; and, about
three in the afternoon, appeared in sight
of the American army. While making
dispositions to dislodge it, he accidentally
fell in with a negro, who informed him
of a private path leading through the
swamp, round the right of the Ameri
can lines to their rear. Determining to
avail himself of this path, he detached
a column under Sir James Baird, which
entered the morass unperceived by
Howe. As soon as Sir James emerged from
the swamp, he attacked and dispersed
a body of Georgia militia, which gave
the first notice to the American general
of the danger which threatened his rear.
At the same instant, the British troops
in his front were put in motion, and
their artillery began to play upon him.
A retreat was immediately ordered;
and the continental troops were under
the necessity of running across a plain,
in front of the corps which had been
led into their rear by Sir James Baird,
who attacked their flanks with great
impetuosity, and considerable effect.
The few who escaped, retreated up the
Savannah; and, crossing that river at
Zubly's ferry, took refuge in South Car
olina. The victory was complete, and de
cisive in its consequences. About one
hundred Americans were either killed
in the field, or drowned in attempting
to escape through a deep swamp. Thir
ty-eight officers, and four hundred and
fifteen privates, were taken. Forty-

eight pieces of cannon, twenty-three
mortars, the fort, with all its military
stores, a large quantity of provisions col
lected for the use of the army, and the
capital of Geoigia, fell into the hands of
the conqueror. These advantages were
obtained at the expense of only seven
killed, and nineteen wounded.
No military force now remained in
Georgia, except the garrison of Sun-
bury, whose retreat to South Carolina
was cut off. All the lower part of that
State was occupied by the British, who
adopted measures to secure the con
quest they had made. The inhabitants
were treated with a lenity as wise as
it was humane. Their property was
spared, and their persons protected.
To make the best use of victory, and of
the impression produced by the moder
ation of the victors, a proclamation was
issued, inviting the inhabitants to re
pair to the British standard, and offer
ing protection to those who would re
turn to their allegiance.
The effect of these measures was soon
felt. The inhabitants flocked in great
numbers to the royal standard; mili
tary corps for the protection of the
country were formed ; and posts were
established for a considerable distance
up the river.
The northern frontier of Georgia be
ing supposed to be settled into a state
of quiet, Colonel Campbell turned his
attention towards Sunbury, and was
about to proceed against that place,
when he received intelligence that it
had surrendered to General Prevost.

50

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

Sir Henry Clinton had ordered that
officer from East Florida to co-operate
with Colonel Campbell. On
hearing that the troops from
the North were off the coast, he
entered the southern frontier of Geor
gia, and invested Sunbury, which, after
a slight resistance, surrendered at dis-

Jan. 9,
1T79.

cretion. Having placed a garrison in
the fort, he proceeded to Savannah,
took command of the army, and de
tached Colonel Campbell with eight
hundred regulars and a few provincials
to Augusta, which fell without resist
ance, and thus the whole State of Geor
gia was reduced.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XV.

[A.]
JOHN LATJBENS.
John Laurens, a brave officer in the Revo
lutionary War, was the son of Henry Laurens,
president of Congress. He was born at Charles
ton, South Carolina, in 1755. He joined the
army in the beginning of 1 777, from which time
he was foremost in danger. His first essay in
arms was at Brandywine. At the battle of Ger-
mantown he exhibited prodigies of valor, in at
tempting to expel the enemy from Chew's house,
and was severely wounded. He was engaged
at Monmouth, and greatly increased his reputa
tion at Rhode Island. At Coosawhatchie, de
fending the pass with a handful of men against
the whole force of Prevost, he was again wound
ed, and was probably indebted for his life to the
gallantry of Captain Wigg, who gave him his
horse to carry him from the field when incapa
ble of moving, his own having been shot under
him. He headed the light infantry, and was
among the first to mount the British lines at
Savannah ; and displayed the greatest activity,
zeal, and courage during the siege of Charles
ton. He was present and distinguished himself
in every action of the army under Washington,
and was among the first who entered the British
lines at Yorktown.
Early in 1781, Colonel Laurens was selected
by Congress for a special mission to France, to
solicit a loan of money and to procure military
stores. He arrived in March and returned in
August, having been so successful in the execu
tion of his commission, that Congress passed a
vote of thanks for his services. Such was his
dispatch, that in three days after he repaired to
Philadelphia he finished his business with Con

gress, and immediately afterwards rejoined the
American army. On the 27th of August, 1782,
in opposing a foraging party of the British near
Combahee River, in South Carolina, he was
mortally wounded, and died in the twenty-sev
enth year of his age.
Such was the close, while yet in its bloom, of
his illustrious life, through which he had exhib
ited such proofs of devoted patriotism, heroic
valor, and splendid talents, as would have se
cured to him the first honors of his country, as
they claim the heartfelt tribute of gratitude to
his memory.
The gallantry of Colonel Laurens was highly
characteristic. The post of danger was his fa
vorite station. His polite and easy behavior in
sured distinction in every society. The warmth
of his heart gained the affection of his friends ;
his sincerity, their confidence and esteem. An
insult to his friend he regarded as a wound to his
own honor. Such an occurrence led him to en
gage in a personal contest with General Charles
Lee, who had spoken disrespectfully of Wash
ington. The veteran, who was wounded on the
occasion, being asked how Laurens conducted
himself, replied, " I could have hugged the noble
boy, he pleased me so."
We cannot, we think, afford a higher treat to
our readers than by giving the following letter,
containing a particular account of the spirited
conduct of Colonel Laurens when sent by Con
gress as special minister to France. It was writ
ten by Major William Jackson, of Philadelphia,
who was secretary of the mission. •
" In the sixth year of the war of independence,
the events of the campaign had been very adverse
to the American arms, and at the close of 1 780 the
resources of the United States were in extreme

52

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

depression. General Lincoln, who commanded
in the southern department, after a brave and
protracted defence of Charleston against the
army and fleet under Sir Henry Clinton and
Admiral Arbuthnot, Avas compelled to capitulate
and to surrender his gallant garrison prisoners
of war. By this success, and the subsequent
defeat of General Gates at Camden, the Brit
ish forces gained a control in the South, which
threatened the most extensive and disastrous
consequences. The main army under Washing
ton, reduced by detachments to the Southern
States, was badly clothed, irregularly provision
ed, and without pay : the magazines were empty,
the treasury exhausted, and the public credit of
no avail. In this alarming crisis of the national
affairs, Washington convened a council of his
most confidential officers. A faithful and mi
nute representation was submitted to Congress ;
and it was respectfully suggested, as the most
immediate means of relief, that a special minis
ter should be sent to France to solicit a loan of
money, and supplies of clothing and military
stores, with a request that a naval superiority
might rendezvous on the American coast, at an
appointed time, to enable the commander-in-
chief to undertake offensive operations against
the dispersed posts of the enemy.
" Congress acceded to the opinions of this in
teresting communication, and referred the nom
ination of the minister to General Washington,
whose selection of the "all-accomplished Lau
rens" justified the confidence of government and
secured the successful completion of this impor
tant trust. As aid-de-camp to General Wash
ington, Colonel Laurens was fully informed of
every circumstance that could give furtherance
to the negotiation ; and writing and speaking the
French language with classical purity, he pos
sessed in an eminent degree the power of illus
trating all its objects. By the partiality of his
gallant friend, the writer of this memoir was
appointed secretary of the mission.
"On the 9th of February, 1781, we sailed
from »Boston in the frigate Alliance, Captain
Barry, and arrived at L'Orient in twenty days.
Pursuing without delay his route to Paris, Co
lonel Laurens met the Mareschal de Castries,
minister of marine, then on a visit to the sea

ports at Hennebond ; and having announced
himself to the mareschal, he very politely direct
ed relays of horses to expedite our journey. On
his arrival at Paris, Colonel Laurens entered on
his mission with every advantage that distinction
of character, ardent zeal of disposition, and con
summate ability to demonstrate the reciprocal
interest of America and France in its successful
accomplishment could confer. Having delivered
his credentials and been graciously received at
court, memorials, explanatory of all the views
and objects of his appointment, were presented
to the Count de Vergennes, minister of Foreign
Relations, and they were repeated and enforced
by personal intercourse, from the 6th of March
to the 2d of May, when Colonel Laurens con
ceived, from the protracted state of the negotia
tion, that it was the policy of the cabinet of
France, by delaying the aid which he soh cited,
to exhaust the power and resources of Britain
and America, and to render both subservient to
her views. Under this impression, and a belief
that this was rather the policy of the ministers
than of the king, Colonel Laurens decided to
prepare a memorial which should condense all
the essential points that had been heretofore
stated, and which he determined to place in the
king's own hand. This memorial, embracing a
luminous statement of facts, with clear deduc
tions from them, was accordingly prepared ;
and on the morning of the day when it was to
be presented, we went to the cabinet of the
Count de Vergennes, where we found Dr.
Franklin and the count. Colonel Laurens, in
troducing the subject of his mission with his
usual animation, was urging the necessity of a
compliance with his solicitation, when the Count
de Vergennes, in a manner at once smiling and
sarcastic, observed : " Colonel Laurens, you are
so recently from the head-quarters of the Amer
ican army that you forget you are no longer de
livering the orders of the commander-in-chief,
but that you are addressing the minister of a
monarch who has every disposition to favor your
country." Colonel Laurens, rising from his chair
with some emotion, stepped to the opposite side
of the room, and, returning to the count, ex
pressed himself in nearly the following words :
" Favor, sir ! the respect which I owe my coun-

Chap. XV.]

DOCUMENTS.

53

try will not admit the term ; say that the aid is
mutual, and I will cheerfully subscribe to the
obligation — but as the last argument I shall use
with your Excellency ; the sword which I now
wear in defence of France, as well as my own
country, unless the succor I solicit is immedi
ately accorded, I may be compelled within a
short time, to draw against France as a British
subject.' " The force of this brief, but appropriate re
monstrance, was keenly felt by the first diplo
matist of Europe, and some time elapsed before
the Count de Vergennes was sufficiently col
lected to say — 'Mais voila, le bon Monsieur
Franklin, qui est tres content de nous.' — 'No
one,' replied Colonel Laurens, ' respects that
venerable gentleman more than I do ; but, to re
peat your Excellency's observation, I am so re
cently from the head-quarters of the American
army, that many circumstances of the highest
interest are familiar to me that are yet unknown
to that worthy man. I must now inform your
Excellency, that my next memorial will be pre
sented to his majesty in person. I have the
honor to salute you respectfully,' and left the
room. On reaching the door, Colonel Laurens
asked my opinion of what had passed. I told
him it exceeded all I had imagined of the inter
view. ' No matter,' said he ; ' let us go to the
inn and dress for court, where the act must
finish.' [The court was at this time in mourn
ing for the empress, Queen Maria Theresa, the
queen's mother ; but we were indulged in wear
ing our uniform, with crapes on our arms and
swords.J " The special minister of the United States of
America" was announced, and we entered the
audience apartment, where the king was stand
ing in the centre of a semicircle, having the old
Count Maurepas on his right, and the Count
de Vergennes on his left : having bowed to his
majesty, Colonel Laurens, instead of passing
among the foreign ministers, advanced towards
the king, and saluted him a second time, and
approaching nearer to him, presented the me
morial, which was received under some embar
rassment ; for although as being an accredited
minister it could not be refused, the innovation
on the forms of the court was altogether unex-
Vol. II.— 8

pected, and the king passed the paper across the
Count de Vergennes to the Marquis de Segur,
the minister of war, who put it in his pocket.
The looks of all present marked their surprise.
When the ceremonial of the levee was over, we
went to the inn, where we dined ; and on our
return to Paris, in going by Dr. Franklin's house,
at Passy, I asked Colonel Laurens if he would
stop and see the doctor ; he said he would see
no one until he knew the result of that day's
proceeding. "The next morning, while at breakfast, he
received the following note :
'"Mr. Necker presents his compliments to
Colonel Laurens, and requests the honor of an
interview, at twelve o'clock.'
" ' Here is something,' said Colonel Laurens ;
' let us dress, and pay our respects to Madame
Necker :' on entering the drawing-room we
found Mr. and Mrs. Necker, and the late Ma
dame de Stael, at that time a young lady about
thirteen years old. The ladies having retired,
Mr. Necker said to Colonel Laurens : ' I have
the honor to inform you, by instruction of his
majesty, that the loan which you solicit in
your memorial of yesterday, is accorded ; the
fifteen hundred thousand livres, which you re
quest may be sent to Major Jackson, at Am
sterdam, for the purchase of military stores, will
be forwarded from Brussels ; and any other ac
commodation connected with my department
will be cheerfully granted.'
" On the next day, a similar interview with
Colonel Laurens was requested by the Mareschal
de Castries, who said: 'I am directed by his
majesty to inform you that the Count de Grasse,
who is now at Brest with twenty-five ships of
the line, bound to the West Indies, will, con
formably with the request in your memorial of
yesterday, rendezvous on the American coast,
at the time General Washington shall point out.
The howitzers which you want cannot be fur
nished from the marine arsenal, as we have none
of that caliber ; but Major Jackson will be able
to procure them in Holland. The frigate Reso
lue will carry you to America with such part
of the money as you may wish to take with you :
any other facility within my department will be
accorded.'

54

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

" Thus was this important negotiation, which
was certainly the hinge on which the success of
the Revolution then turned, brought to a happy
close by the wisdom and decision of a youth
who had not attained his twenty-eighth year."
The memorial which proved so influential,
however, was inspired by Washington, as will
be seen in another part of this work.

[B.]
CAPTAIN NICHOLAS BIDDLE.
Nicholas Biddle, captain in the American
navy during the Revolutionary War, was born
in the city of Philadelphia in the year 1750.
Among the brave men who perished in the glo
rious struggle for the independence of America,
Captain Biddle holds a distinguished rank. His
services, and the high expectations raised by his
military genius and gallantry, have left a strong
impression of his merit, and a profound regret
that his early fate should have disappointed so
soon the hopes of his country.
Very early in life he manifested a partiality
for the sea, and before the age of fourteen he
had made a voyage to Quebec. In the follow
ing year (1765), he sailed from Philadelphia to
Jamaica and the Bay of Honduras. The vessel
left the bay in the latter end of December, 1765,
bound to Antigua, and on the 2d day of Janu
ary, in a heavy gale of wind, she was cast away
on a shoal called the Northern Triangles. After
remaining two nights and a day upon the wreck,
the crew took to their yawl, the long-boat hav
ing been lost, and, with great difficulty and
hazard, landed on one of the small uninhabited
islands, about three leagues' distant from the
reef upon which they struck. Here they stayed
a few days. Some provisions were procured
from the wreck, and their boat was refitted.
As it was too small to carry them all off, they
drew lots to determine who should remain, and
young Biddle was among the number. He and
his three companions suffered extreme hardships
for the want of provisions and good water ; and
although various efforts were made for their
relief, it was nearly two months before they
succeeded.

Such a scene of dangers and sufferings in the
commencement of his career would have dis
couraged a youth of ordinary enterprise and per
severance. On him it produced no such effect.
The coolness and promptitude with which he
acted in the midst of perils that alarmed the
oldest seamen, gave a sure presage of the force
of his character ; and after he had returned
home he made several European voyages, in
which he acquired a thorough knowledge of
seamanship. In the year 1770, when a war between Great
Britain and Spain was expected, in consequence
of a dispute relative to Falkland's Island, he
went to London in order to enter into the Brit
ish navy. He took with him letters of recom
mendation from Thomas Willing, Esq., to his
brother-in-law, Captain Stirling, on board of
whose ship he served for some time as midship
man. The dispute with Spain being accommo
dated, he intended to leave the navy, but was
persuaded by Captain Stirling to remain in the
service, promising that he wrould use all his in
terest to get him promoted. His ardent mind,
however, could not rest satisfied with the inac
tivity of his situation, which he was impatient
to change for one more suited to his disposition.
In the year 1773 a voyage of discovery was
undertaken, at the request of the Royal Society,
in order to ascertain how far navigation was
practicable towards the North Pole, to advance
the discovery of a northwest passage into the
south seas, and to make such astronomical ob
servations as might prove serviceable to navi
gation. Two vessels, the Race-horse and Carcase, were
fitted out for the expedition, the command of
which was given to Captain Phipps, afterwards
Lord Mulgrave. The peculiar dangers to which
such an undertaking was exposed, induced the
government to take extraordinary precautions
in fitting out and preparing the vessels, and
selecting the crews, and a positive order was
issued that no boys should be received on board.
To the bold and enterprising spirit of young
Biddle, such au expedition had great attractions.
Extremely anxious to join it, he endeavored to
procure Captain Stirling's permission for tha"
purpose, but he was unwilling to part with him

Chap. XV.]

DOCUMENTS.

55

and would not consent to let him go. The
temptation was, however, irresistible. He re
solved to go, and, laying aside his uniform, he
entered on board the Carcase before the mast.
When he first went on board, he was observed
by a seaman who had known him before, and
was very much attached to him. The honest
fellow, thinking that he must have been de
graded, and turned before the mast in disgrace,
was greatly affected at seeing him ; but he was
equally surprised and pleased when he learned
the true cause of the young officer's disguise,
and he kept his secret as he was requested to
do. Impelled by the same spirit, young Hora
tio, afterwards Lord Nelson, had solicited and
obtained permission to enter on board the same
vessel. These youthful adventurers are both
said to have been appointed cockswains, a sta
tion always assigned to the most active and
trusty seamen. The particulars of this expe
dition are well known to the public. These
intrepid navigators penetrated as far as the
latitude of eighty-one degrees and thirty-nine
minutes ; and they were at one time inclosed
with mountains of ice, and their vessel rendered
almost immovable for five days, at the hazard
of instant destruction. Captain Biddle kept a
journal of his voyage, which was afterwards lost
with him.
The commencement of the Revolution gave a
new turn to his pursuits, and he repaired with
out delay to the standard of his country. When
a rupture between England and America ap
peared inevitable, he returned to Philadelphia,
and soon after his arrival he was appointed to
the command of the Camden galley, fitted for
the defence of the Delaware. He found this too
inactive a service, and when the fleet was pre
paring, under Commodore Hopkins, for an ex
pedition against New Providence, he applied
for a command, and was immediately appointed
commander of the Andrew Doria, a brig of four
teen guns and one hundred and thirty men.
Paul Jones, who was then a lieutenant, and was
going on the expedition, was distinguished by
Captain Biddle, and introduced to his friends as
an officer of merit.
Before he sailed from the capes of the Dela
ware, an incident occurred which marked his

personal intrepidity. Hearing that two desert
ers from his vessel were at Lewistown in prison,
an officer was sent on shore for them ; but he
returned with information that the two men,
with some others, had armed themselves, barri
caded the door, and swore they would not be
taken ; that the militia of the town had been
sent for, but were afraid to open the door, the
prisoners threatening to shoot the first man who
entered. Captain Biddle immediately went to
the prison, accompanied by a midshipman, and
calling to one of the deserters whose name was
Green, a stout, resolute fellow, ordered him to
open the door ; he replied that he would not,
and if he attempted to enter he would shoot
him. Biddle then ordered the door to be forced,
and entering singly with a pistol in each hand,
he called to Green, who was prepared to fire,
and said, " Now, Green, if you do not take good
aim, you are a dead man." Daunted by his
manner, their resolution failed, and the militia,
coming in, secured them. They afterwards de
clared to the officer who furnished this account,
that it was Captain Biddle's look and manner
which had awed them into submission, for that
they had determined to kill him as soon as he
came into the room.
Writing from the capes to his brother, the
late Judge Biddle, he says : " I know not what
may be our fate : be it, however, what it may,
you may rest assured I will never cause a blush
on the cheeks of my friends or countrymen."
Soon after they sailed, the small-pox broke out,
and raged with great violence in the fleet, which
was manned chiefly by New England seamen.
The humanity of Captain Biddle, always prompt
and active, was employed on this occasion to
alleviate the general distress by all the means
in his power. His own crew, which was from
Philadelphia, being secure against the distem
per, he took on board great numbers of the sick
from other vessels. Every part of his vessel
being crowded, the long-boat was fitted for their
accommodation, and he gave up his own cot to
a young midshipman, on whom he bestowed the
greatest attention till his death. In the mean
while he slept himself upon the lockers, refusing
the repeated solicitations of his officers to accept
their berths. On their arrival at New Provi-

56

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

dence, it surrendered without opposition. The
crew of the Andrew Doria, from their crowded
situation, became sick ; and before she left Prov
idence, there were not men enough capable of
doing duty to man the boats. Captain Biddle
visited them every day, and ordered every ne
cessary refreshment, but they continued sickly
until they arrived at New London.
After refitting at New London, Captain Bid
dle received orders to proceed off the Banks of
Newfoundland, in order to intercept the trans
ports and storeships bound to Boston. Before
he reached the Banks, he captured two ships
from Scotland, with four hundred Highland
troops on board, destined for Boston. At this
time the Andrew Doria had not one hundred
men. Lieutenant Josiah, a brave and excellent
officer, was put on board one of the prizes, with
all the Highland officers, and ordered to make
the nearest port. Unfortunately, about ten days
afterwards, he was taken by the Cerberus frig
ate, and, on pretence of his being an English
man, was ordered to do duty, and extremely ill
used. Captain Biddle, hearing of the ill treat
ment of Lieutenant Josiah, wrote to the admiral
at New York, that, however disagreeable it
might be to him, he would treat a young man
of family, believed to be a son of Lord Cranston,
who was then his prisoner, in the manner they
treated Lieutenant Josiah.
He also applied to his own government in be
half of this injured officer ; and by the proceed
ings of Congress on the 7th of August, 1776, it
appears "that a letter from Captain Nicholas
Biddle to the marine committee was laid before
Congress and read: whereupon, Resolved, That
General Washington be directed to propose an
exchange of Lieutenant Josiah for a lieutenant
of the navy of Great Britain : that the general
remonstrate to Lord Howe on the cruel treat
ment Lieutenant Josiah has met with, of which
the Congress have received undoubted informa
tion." Lieutenant Josiah was exchanged after
an imprisonment of ten months. After the cap
ture of the ships with the Highlanders, such was
Captain Biddle's success in taking prizes, that
when he arrived in the Delaware he had but
five of the crew with which he sailed from New
London, the rest having been distributed among

the captured vessels, and their places supplied
by men who had entered from the prizes. He
had a great number of prisoners, so that, for
some days before he got in, he never left the
deck. While he was thus indefatigably engaged in
weakening the enemy's power and advancing
his country's interest, he was disinterested and
generous in all that related to his private advan
tage. The brave and worthy opponent, whom
the chance of war had thrown in his power,
found in him a patron and friend, who, on more
than one occasion, was known to restore to the
vanquished the fruits of victory.
In the latter end of the year 1776, Captain
Biddle was appointed to the command of the
Randolph, a frigate of thirty-two guns. With
his usual activity, he employed every exertion
to get her ready for sea. The difficulty of pro
curing American seamen at that time obliged
him, in order to man his ships, to take a number
of British seamen, who were prisoners of war,
and who had requested leave to enter.
The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia in
February, 1777. Soon after she got to sea, her
lower masts were discovered to be unsound,
and, in a heavy gale of wind, all her masts went
by the board. While they were bearing away
for Charleston, the English sailors, with some
others of the crew, formed a design to take the
ship. When all was ready, they gave three
cheers on the gun-deck. By the decided and
resolute conduct of Captain Biddle and his offi
cers, the ringleaders were seized and punished,
and the rest submitted without further resist
ance. After refitting at Charleston as speedily
as possible, he sailed on a cruise, and three days
after he left the bar he fell in with four vessels
bound from Jamaica to London. One of them,
called the True Britton, mounted twenty guns.
The commander of her, who had frequently ex
pressed to his passengers his hopes of falling in
with the Randolph, as soon as he perceived her,
made all the sail he could from her ; but finding
he could not escape, he hove to, and kept up
a constant fire, until the Randolph bore down
upon him, and was preparing for a broadside,
when he hauled down his colors. By her supe
rior sailing, the Randolph was enabled to cap-

Chap. XV.]

DOCUMENTS.

57

ture the rest of the vessels, and in one week
from the time he sailed from Charleston, Cap
tain Biddle returned there with his prizes, which
proved to be very valuable.
Encouraged by his spirit and success, the
State of South Carolina made exertions for fit
ting out an expedition under his command.
His name, and the personal attachment to him,
urged forward a crowd of volunteers to serve
with him, and in a short time the ship General
Moultrie, the brigs Fair American and Polly,
and the Notre Dame, were prepared for sea.
A detachment of fifty men from the first regi
ment of South Carolina continental infantry was
ordered to act as marines on board the Ran
dolph. Such was the attachment which the
honorable and amiable deportment of Captain
Biddle had impressed during his stay at Charles
ton, and such the confidence inspired by his pro
fessional conduct and valor, that a general emu
lation pervaded the corps to have the honor of
serving under his command. The posts of honor,
after a generous competition among the officers,
were awarded to Captain Joor, and to lieutenants
Grey and Simmons, whose gallant conduct, and
that of their brave detachment, did justice to
the high character of the regiment. As soon as
the Randolph was refitted, and a new mainmast
obtained in place of one which had been struck
with lightning, she dropped down to Rebellion
Roads with her little squadron. Their inten
tion was to attack the Carysfort frigate, the
Perseus twenty-four-gun ship, the Hinchinbrook
of sixteen guns, and a privateer which had been
cruising off the bar, and had much annoyed the
trade. They were detained a considerable time
in Rebellion Roads, after they were ready to
sail, by contrary winds, and want of water on
the bar for the Randolph. As soon as they got
over the bar, they stood to the eastward, in ex
pectation of falling in with the British cruisers.
The next day they retook a dismasted ship from
New England : as she had no cargo on board,
they took out her crew, six light guns, and some
stores, and set her on fire. Finding that the
British ships had left the coast, they proceeded
to the West Indies, and cruised to the eastward,
and nearly in the latitude of Barbadoes, for
some days, during which time they boarded a

number of French and Dutch ships, and took an
English schooner from New York, bound to
Grenada, which had mistaken the Randolph for
a British frigate, and was taken possession of
before the mistake was discovered.
On the night of the 7th of March, 1778, the
fatal accident occurred which terminated the
life of this excellent officer. For some days pre
viously he had expected an attack. Captain
Blake, a brave officer, who commanded a de
tachment of the second South Carolina regi
ment, serving as marines on board the General
Moultrie, and to whom we are indebted for sev
eral of the ensuing particulars, dined on board
the Randolph two days before the engagement.
At dinner, Captain Biddle said, " We have been
cruising here for some time, and have spoken a
number of vessels, who will no doubt give in
formation of us, and I should not be surprised if
my old ship should be out after us. As to any
thing that carries her guns upon one deck, I
think myself a match for her." About three
p. m. of the 7th of March, a signal was made
from the Randolph for a sail to windward, in
consequence of which the squadron hauled upon
a wind, in order to speak to her. It was four
o'clock before she could be distinctly seen, when
she was discovered to be a ship, though as she
neared and came before the wind, she had the
appearance of a large sloop, with only a square
sail set. About seven o'clock, the Randolph,
being to windward, hove to ; the Moultrie, being
about one hundred and fifty yards astern, and
rather to leeward, also hove to. About eight
o'clock the British ship fired a shot just ahead
of the Moultrie, and hailed her ; the answer was,
" The Polly, of New York," upon which she im
mediately hauled her wind and hailed the Ran
dolph. She was then, for the first time, discov
ered to be a two-decker. After several questions
asked and answered, as she was ranging up
along side the Randolph, and had got on her
weather quarter, Lieutenant Barnes of that ship
called out, " This is the Randolph," and she im
mediately hoisted her colors and gave the ene
my a broadside. Shortly after the action com
menced, Captain Biddle received a wound in
the thigh and fell. This occasioned some con
fusion, as it was at first thought that he was

58

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

killed. He soon, however, ordered a chair to be
brought, said that he was only slightly wounded,
and being carried forward encouraged the crew.
The stem of the enemy's ship being clear of the
Randolph, the captain of the Moultrie gave or
ders to fire ; but the enemy having shot ahead,
so as to bring the Randolph between them, the
last broadside of the Moultrie went into the
Randolph, and it was thought by one of the
men saved, who was stationed on the quarter
deck near Captain Biddle, that he was wounded
by a shot from the Moultrie. The fire from the
Randolph was constant and well directed. She
fired nearly three broadsides to the enemy's one,
and she appeared, while the battle lasted, to be
in a continual blaze. In about twenty minutes
after the action began, and while the surgeon
was examining Captain Biddle's wound on the
quarter-deck, the Randolph blew up.
The enemy's vessel was the British ship Yar
mouth, of sixty-four guns, commanded by Cap
tain Vincent. So closely were they engaged,
that Captain Morgan, of the Fair American, and
all his crew, thought that it was the enemy's
ship that had blown up. He stood for the Yar
mouth, and had a trumpet in his hand to hail
and inquire how Captain Biddle was, when he
discovered his mistake. Owing to the disabled
condition of the Yarmouth, the other vessels
escaped. The cause of the explosion was never ascer
tained ; but it is remarkable that just before he
sailed, after the clerk had copied the signals and
orders for the armed vessels that accompanied
him, he wrote at the foot of them, " In case of
coming to action in the night, be very careful
of your magazines." The number of persons
on board the Randolph was three hundred and
fifteen, who all perished except four men, who
were tossed about for four days on a piece of
the wreck, before they were discovered and
taken up. From the information of two of these
men, who were afterwards in Philadelphia, and
of some individuals in the other vessels of the
squadron, we have been enabled to state some
particulars of this unfortunate event in addi
tion to the accounts given of it by Dr. Ram
say, in his History of the American Revolution,
and in his History of the Revolution in South

Carolina. In the former work, the historian
thus concludes his account of the action : " Cap
tain Biddle, who perished on board the Ran
dolph, was universally lamented. He was in the
prime of life, and had excited high expectations
of future usefulness to his country, as a bold and
skilful naval officer."
Thus prematurely fell, at the age of twenty-
seven, as gallant an officer as any country ever
boasted of. In the short career which Provi
dence allowed to him, he displayed all those
qualities which constitute a great soldier. Brave
to excess, and consummately skilled in his pro
fession, no danger nor unexpected event could
shake his firmness, or disturb his presence of
mind. An exact and rigid disciplinarian, he
tempered his authority with so much humanity
and affability, that his orders were always exe
cuted with cheerfulness and alacrity. Perhaps
no officer ever understood better the art of com
manding the affections as well as the respect of
those who served under him, if that can be
called an art which was rather the natural effect
of the benevolence and magnanimity of his
character.

[C]
COMMODORE BAEBY.
John Barry was born in the county of Wex
ford, Ireland, in the year 1745. After having
received the first elements of an English educa
tion, to gratify his particular inclination for the
sea, his father entered him in the merchant
service. When about fifteen years of age, he
arrived in Pennsylvania, and selected it as the
country of his future residence. He commanded
the ship Black Prince, a valuable vessel belong-
ing to Mr. Nixon, of Philadelphia, when the
Revolutionary War commenced. The ship was
immediately purchased by Congress, and con
verted into a vessel of war. Barry took a de
cided stand in favor of his adopted country, and
was the first commander in the American navy.
Confiding in his patriotism, Congress, in Febru
ary, 1776, a few months prior to the Declaration
of Independence, appointed him commander of
the brig Lexington, of sixteen guns, and his was
the first continental vessel which sailed from the

Chap. XV]

DOCUMENTS.

59

port of Philadelphia. His cruises were success
ful. The city of Philadelphia and ports on the
Delaware fell into the hands of the British in
the year 1777, and Commodore Barry, with
several vessels of war, made good his retreat
up the river as far as Whitehill, where, how
ever, they were afterwards destroyed by the
enemy. Prior to the destruction of these vessels, he
successfully employed those under his command
in annoying the enemy, and cutting off the
supplies. Whilst he commanded the Lexington, the
British chased a vessel on shore near Cape May,
in sight of the Lexington, the Surprise, Captain
Weeks, and the Wasp, Captain Barney. The
boats and men of those vessels were immedi
ately sent to her assistance, and they began to
land her cargo, consisting of small-arms, pow
der, &c. The British kept up a brisk fire, and
killed Captain Weeks. Finding the enemy's
ships getting near, and preparing to send their
boats, Captain Barry ordered a quantity of pow
der turned loose in the hold of the vessel, and,
on leaving her, left a large coal of fire wrapped
up in the mainsail over the hatchway. When
the Americans retired, the British had scarcely
boarded the vessel, when she blew up with a
tremendous explosion ! A number of dead bod
ies, gold-laced hats, &c, afterwards floated on
shore. After the destruction of the American squad
ron, and soon after the capture of Philadelphia,
Barry was appointed to command the Raleigh,
of thirty-two guns, which, on a cruise, was run
on shore by a British squadron, on Fox Island,
in Penobscot Bay.
Subsequent to the above disasters, he com
manded a vessel commissioned with letters of
marque and reprisal, and engaged in the West
India trade for some time.
When Congress concluded to build a seventy-
four-gun ship in New Hampshire, he was ordered
to command her. It was, however, afterwards
determined to make a present of this vessel to
King of France, when that body gave him the
command of the Alliance frigate.
The situation of American affairs becoming
important in a foreign point of view, Colonel

John Laurens, of South Carolina, son of Henry
Laurens, then a prisoner in the Tower of Lon
don, was ordered to France on a special mission.
Commodore Barry sailed in the Alliance from
Boston for L'Orient, in February, 1781, having
the minister extraordinary and suite on board.
After landing the ambassador and suite at L'Ori
ent in the early part of the same year, the Alli
ance sailed on a cruise.
On the 29th of May following, at daylight,
Commodore Barry discovered a ship and a brig
on his weather-bow, appearing afterwards to
wear the British flag. He consequently pre
pared for immediate action. The British ship
proved to be the Atalanta, Captain Edwards, of
between twenty and thirty guns, and the brig
Treposa, Captain Smith. An action shortly com
menced, and by three p. m. both vessels struck.
Barry was wounded early in the engagement ;
but notwithstanding his sufferings in conse
quence of this casualty, he still remained on
deck, and it was owing to his intrepidity and
presence of mind that the Alliance was the
victor. On December 25, 1781, he sailed in the Alli
ance for France from Boston, having on board
the Marquis de Lafayette and Count de No-
ailles, who were desirous of going to their native
country on business of the highest importance.
He had scarcely arrived at his destined port
(L'Orient), when he sailed in February, 1782, on
a cruise, during which he fell in with an enemy's
ship of equal size, and had a severe engagement.
The enemy would have been captured had it
not been for two consorts, which, however, were
kept at a distance during the action by a French
fifty-gun ship which hove in sight. The conti
nental ship Luzerne, of twenty guns, had her
guns thrown overboard before the battle began,
in order to facilitate her escape, as she had a
quantity of specie on board from Havana for the
use of the United States. The captain of the
British frigate, who was soon after advanced to
be vice-admiral of the red, acknowledged that
he had never received a more severe flagella
tion than on this occasion, although it seemed
to have the appearance of a drawn battle.
It is said that the British frigate had thirty-
seven killed and fifty wounded in this action,

60

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

and that Captain Barry's loss amounted to three
killed and eleven wounded.
During the time that General Lord Howe was
the British commander-in-chief, he attempted to
alienate the commodore from the cause which he
had so ardently espoused, by an offer of twenty
thousand guineas and the command of the best
frigate in the British navy ; but he rejected the
offer with scorn. The return of peace, however,
in the year 1783, put an end to all such dishon
orable propositions, and our commodore re
turned to private bfe.
When our disturbances took place with the
French republic, he commanded the frigate
United States, and was very successful on the
West India station.
Bold, brave, and enterprising, he was at the
same time humane and generous. He was a
good citizen, and greatly esteemed by all who
had the pleasure of his acquaintance. His per
son was above the ordinary size, graceful and
commanding ; his deportment dignified, and his
countenance expressive. He had the art of
commanding, without supercilious haughtiness
or wanton severity. Another trait in his char
acter was a punctilious observance of the duties
of religion.
He died in Philadelphia, on the 30th of Sep
tember, 1803, and a vast concourse of his fellow-
citizens testified their respect to his memory by
attending his remains to the silent grave.

[D.]
COMMODORE JOHN PAUL JONES.
John Paul Jones, one of the most enterprising
and resolute mariners America had during the
contest with Great Britain, was born in Scot
land in 1747, and could lay claims to but hum
ble parentage. His father had been gardener
to the Earl of Selkirk. His original name was
John Paul. The son received the same name,
and was taken into the family of the Earl of
Selkirk, and was there educated under a private
tutor. At the age of fifteen, from what cause
is not known, he commenced a seafaring life,
and, after a regular apprenticeship, became mas
ter of a vessel engaged in the West India trade.

In one of his voyages to Tobago, a mutiny arose
in the ship, which was quelled, but not without
the death of one of the mutineers. When ar
rived at Tobago, he delivered himself up to trial,
and was acquitted. After acquittal he returned
to England, and was threatened with imprison
ment, in order for a new trial. Feeling, proba
bly, the injustice of such a measure, he quitted
his country and took refuge in America. He
arrived here at a most important period. The
colonies were on the eve of a separation from
the parent State. The conflict had begun, and
Jones, under his assumed name, having received
a lieutenant's commission, embarked on the ex
pedition against New Providence under Com
modore Hopkins.
At his return, he was appointed to command
a sloop of twelve guns, and a short time after,
to a ship of eighteen guns. In this he cruised,
in 1778, around the coasts of England and Scot
land, made a descent upon the coast of Scotland
near the Earl of Selkirk's house, and carried off
the family plate, which was afterwards restored.
He landed also at Whitehaven, in Cumberland-
shire, but without causing material injury to the
inhabitants. In cruising the same year off the
Irish coast, he discovered a British vessel, by
the name of the Drake, in the harbor of Water-
ford, and challenged her to combat. The chal
lenge she accepted, and was beaten.
In the summer of 1779, a squadron was fitted
out, over which Jones was appointed command
er. He sailed in the Bonne Homme Richard,
of forty guns and four hundred and fifteen men.
This squadron sailed from France on the 14th
of August, and was successful in making a vari
ety of captures, both of merchant vessels and
vessels of war. In a gale he was separated from
the rest of his forces, but was rejoined by them
about the first of September. He then cruised
about the northeast coast of Scotland, and formed
the daring plan of levying a contribution upon
the town of Leith. This was to be effected by
putting himself off as the commander of a Brit
ish squadron, till his plan could be put in execu
tion, and then demanding a ransom of the town
for one hundred thousand pounds, on the alter
native of suffering a total destruction of the
town. This deception was discovered just as

Chap. XV.]

DOCUMENTS.

61

the squadron had hove to before the town of
Leith. On this he immediately put to sea, and
on the 22d of September arrived at Flambor-
ough Head.
When cruising off Flamborough Head, about
two leagues from the shore, on the 22d of Sep
tember, at two o'clock p. m., he descried the
Baltic fleet, for which he had been so long on
the lookout, under convoy. The fleet was con
voyed by a frigate and a sloop of war. Prepa
rations were immediately made for action.
When the hostile ships had sufficiently neared,
their respective captains hailed each other, and
commenced action at moon-rise, about a quar
ter before eight, at pistol-shot distance. The
English ship gave the first fire from her upper
and quarter deck, which Jones returned with
alacrity. Three of his lower deck guns on the
starboard side burst in the gun-room, and killed
the men stationed at them ; in consequence of
which, orders were given not to fire the other
three eighteen pounders mounted on that deck,
lest a similar misfortune should occur. This de
prived him of the advantage he expected to
have derived from them in the then existing
calm. Having to contend alone with both the
enemy's ships, and the Bonne Homme Richard
having received several shot between wind and
water, he grappled with the larger vessel, to
render her force useless, and to prevent firing
from the smaller one. In effecting this object,
the superior manoeuvring of the larger ship
embarrassed him greatly. He succeeded, how
ever, in laying his ship athwart the hawse of his
opponent's. His mizzen shrouds struck the jib-
boom of the enemy, and hung for some time ;
but they soon gave way, when both fell along
side of each other, head to stern. The fluke of
the enemy's spare anchor hooked the Bonne
Homme Richard's quarter, both ships being so
closely grappled fore and aft, that the muzzles
of their respective guns touched each other's
sides. The captain of the enemy's smaller ship
judiciously ceased firing as soon as Captain
Jones had effected his design, lest he should
assist to injure his consort. In this situation
the crews of both ships continued the engage
ment for several hours. Many of the guns of
the American ship were rendered useless,
Vol. IX— 9

while those of the English remained manage
able. Some time after, a brave fellow, posted in
the Bonne Homme Richard's maintop, succeed
ed in silencing a number of the enemy's guns.
This man, with a lighted match, and a basket
filled with hand-grenades, advanced along the
main-yard, until he was over the enemy's deck.
Being enabled to distinguish objects by the
light of the moon, wherever he discovered a
number of persons together he dropped a hand-
grenade among them. He succeeded in drop
ping several through the scuttles of the ship ;
these set fire to the cartridge of an eighteen-
pounder, which communicating successively to
other cartridges, disabled all the officers and
men, and rendered useless all the guns abaft the
mainmast. The enemy's ship was many times
set on fire by the great quantity of combustible
matter thrown on board, and with much diffi
culty and toil the flames were as often extin
guished. Towards the close of the action, all
the guns of the Bonne Homme Richard were
silenced except four on the forecastle, which
were commanded by the purser, who was dan
gerously wounded. Jones immediately took
their command on himself. The two guns next
the enemy were well served. The seamen suc
ceeded in removing another from the opposite
side. Hence only three guns were used towards
the close of the action on board of Jones's ship.
The musketry and swivels, however, did great
execution, as did also the incessant fire from the
round-tops, in consequence of which the enemy
were several times driven from their quarters.
About ten o'clock a report was in circulation
between decks, that Jones and the chief officers
were killed ; that the ship had four or five feet
water in her hold, and was sinking. The crew
became alarmed, and the gunner, the carpenter,
and the master-at-arms were deputed to go on
deck and beg quarter of the enemy. They as
cended the quarter-deck, and whilst in the act
of fulfilling their mission, were discovered by
the commodore crying for quarter. Hearing
the voice of Jones calling, " What rascals are
these ? Shoot them ! kill them !" the carpenter
and master-at-arms succeeded in getting below.
The commodore threw both his pistols at the
gunner, who had descended to the foot of the

62

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

gang-way ladder, and his skull "was thereby
fractured. The man lay there until the action
was over, after which his skull was trepanned,
and he recovered. While the action continued
to rage with relentless fury, both ships took fire,
in consequence of which the crews were obliged
to cease firing, and exert themselves in extin
guishing the flames in which their respective
vessels were enveloped, and thus prevent the
certain destruction of both combatants. The fire
being extinguished, the captain of the hostile
ship asked if Jones had struck, as he had heard
a cry for quarter. Jones replied, that his col
ors would never descend till he was fairly beaten.
The action then recommenced with renewed vig
or. Shortly after, the Alliance, Captain Landais,
came up within pistol-shot, and began a heavy
firing, injuring both friend and foe ; nor did the
firing cease from her, notwithstanding repeated
hailing, until the signal of recognition was fully
displayed on board the Bonne Homme Richard.
Nearly one hundred of the prisoners, previously
captured, had been suffered to ascend the deck
by Jones's master-at-arms during the confusion
occasioned by the cry for quarter, owing to a
belief that the vessel was sinking. To prevent
danger from this circumstance, they were sta
tioned at the pumps, where they remained in
active employ during the remainder of the
battle. The sides of the Bonne Homme Richard were
nearly stove in, her helm had become unman
ageable, and a splintered piece of timber alone
supported the poop. A brisk firing, however,
was kept up from her three guns on the quarter
deck. Their shot raked the enemy fore and aft,
cutting up his rigging and spars, so that his
mainmast had only the yard-arm of the Bonne
Homme Richard for its support. The enemy's
fire subsided by degrees, and when his guns
could no longer be brought to bear, he struck
his colors. At this juncture his mainmast went
by the board. Lieutenant Dale was left below,
where, being no longer able to rally his men,
he, although severely wounded, superintended
the working of the pumps. Notwithstanding
every effort, the hold of the Bonne Homme
Richard was half full of water when the enemy
surrendered. After the action the wind blew

fresh, and the flames on board the Richard
spread anew, nor were they extinguished until
daylight appeared. In the mean time, all the
ammunition was brought on deck to be thrown
overboard in case of necessity. The enemy had
nailed his flag to the mast at the beginning
of the action ; and after the captain had sur
rendered, he could not prevail upon his men to
bring down his colors, as they expressed their
dread of the American rifles. He was, there
fore, obliged to do that service himself. In
taking possession of the enemy, three of Jones's
men were killed, for which an apology was after
wards made.
The captured vessel proved to be his Britan
nic majesty's ship Serapis, Captain Pearson,
rating forty-four, but mounting fifty carriage
guns. The Bonne Homme Richard had one
hundred and sixty-five killed, and one hundred
and thirty-seven wounded and missing. The
Serapis had one hundred and thirty-seven killed,
and seventy-six wounded. All hands were re
moved on board the prize, together with such
articles as could be saved, and about ten o'clock
a. m. the next day the Bonne Homme Richard
sunk. Shortly after this contest had terminated,
Captain Cotineau, in the Pallas, engaged the
enemy's lesser ship, which struck after a severe
engagement of two hours and a half. She
proved to be the Countess of Scarborough.
Her braces were all cut away, as well as her
running rigging and topsail sheets. Seven of
her guns were dismounted, four men killed, and
twenty wounded. More than fifteen hundred
persons witnessed the sanguinary conflict from
Flamborough Head.
On the arrival of Jones in America, Congress
passed an act, dated April 14, 1781, in which
he was thanked, in the most flattering manner,
" for the zeal, the prudence, and the intrepidity
with which he sustained the honor of the Amer
ican flag ; for his bold and successful enterprise,
with a view to redeem from captivity the citi
zens of America who had fallen into the hands
of the English ; and for the eminent services
by which he had added lustre to his own char
acter and the arms of America." A com
mittee of Congress also voted, "that he de-

Chap. XV.]

DOCUMENTS.

63

served a gold medal in remembrance of his
services." Jones seems to have been a man capable of
the most daring deeds, both from his bravery
and his arts of deception. An instance of the
latter occurs in a case of attack upon an English
frigate, superior to him in force, off the Island
of Bermuda. Happening to fall in with this
frigate, he was immediately hailed, when he re
turned the name of a ship of the British navy.
This satisfied the English captain, who, as the
sea was rough and as it was near night, ordered
him to keep company till the morrow, when he
would send his boat aboard. But to-morrow
never dawned on the hapless Englishman, for
Jones, getting up within pistol-shot distance,
discharged a broadside into him, and immedi

ately discharged the other, when the English
vessel sunk with every soul on board. Jones
was then in the United States frigate Ariel. On
peace taking place, he returned to Europe, and,
going to St. Petersburg, was honored with a
commission in the Empress Catharine's fleet,
when the English under him refusing to serve,
he was transferred to a command under the
Prince of Nassau, then acting against the Turk
ish fleet. Here, by a successful stratagem, he
put the Turkish fleet into the power of the
prince, who wantonly set it on fire, and thus
barbarously involved the crews in one general
destruction. On Jones's retirement from the
service, he went to France, and after living
through the first stages of the revolution, died
in the city of Paris in the year 1792.

CHAPTER XVI.
1778.
WASHINGTON PREPARES TO CHASTISE THE INDIANS.
Hostilities of the Indians incited hy the British.— Attack on Wyoming.— Defeat of Colonel Butler.— Destruction ot
the settlement and massacre of the inhabitants.— Hostilities on the frontier of Virginia.— Colonel Hamilton's
plan of attack.— He sends off a detachment from Vincennes.— Colonel Clarke surprises Vincennes, and captures
Hamilton and the garrison.— Beneficial effects of this hold stroke.— Washington prepares a plan for an expedition
to the Indian country.— His letter to Governor Clinton on the subject.— Washington's anxiety respecting the
decline in the character of Congress, and the apathy of the several States respecting the Congress and the general
welfare. — His letter to Benjamin Harrison on that subject. — Congress projects a second expedition to Canada
without consulting Washington. — Congress sends the plan to Washington. — He is surprised at its visionary and
impracticable character. — Washington is desired hy Congress to interest Lafayette and the French court in the
scheme. — His answer to Congress. — He requests a personal interview. — He goes to Philadelphia for that purpose,
meets a committee of Congress, and puts a final extinguisher on the magnificent plan of Congress for the con
quest of Canada.

"While the events were passing which
are recorded in the preceding chapter,
a terrible war with the Indians was
raging on the western frontier of the
United States. "While the British were
abundantly able to supply the Indians
with all those articles of use and luxury
which they had been accustomed to
receive from the whites, Congress was
not in a condition to do any thing of
this sort to conciliate them, or to secure
their neutrality in the existing war.
Stimulated by the presents as well as
by the artful representations of British
agents, the Indians had consequently
become hostile. Early in 1778 there
were many indications of a general dis
position among the savages to make war
on the United States ; and the frontiers,

from the Mohawk to the Ohio, were
threatened with the tomahawk and the
scalping-knife. Every representation
from that country supported Washing
ton's opinion, that a war with the In
dians should never be defensive, and
that, to obtain peace, it must be carried
into their own country. Detroit was
understood to be in a defenceless con
dition, and Congress resolved on an
expedition against that place. This en
terprise was intrusted to General M'ln-
tosh, who commanded at Pittsburg, and
was to be carried on with three thou
sand men, chiefly militia, to be drawn
from Virginia. To facilitate its success,
another force was to attack the Sene-
cas, advancing from the east of the
Hudson.

Chap. XVL.J

PREPARATIONS TO CHASTISE THE INDIANS.

65

Unfortunately, the acts of the gov
ernment did not correspond with the
vigor of its resolutions. The necessary
preparations were not made, and the
inhabitants of the frontiers remained
without sufficient protection, until the
plans against them were matured, and
the storm which had been long gather
ing burst upon them with a fury which
spread desolation wherever it reached.
About three hundred white men,
commanded by the British Colonel
John Butler, and about five hundred
Indians, led by the Indian chief Brandt,
who had assembled in the north, march
ed late in June against the settlement
of Wyoming. These troops embarked
on the Chemung or Tioga, and descend
ing the Susquehanna, landed at a place
called the Three Islands, whence they
marched about twenty miles, and cross
ing a wilderness, and passing through a
gap in the mountain, entered the valley
of Wyoming near its northern bound
ary. At this place a small fort called
Wintermoots had been erected, which
fell into their hands without resistance,
and was burnt. The inhabitants who
were capable of bearing arms assembled
on the first alarm at Forty Fort, on the
west side of the Susquehanna, four miles
below the camp of the invading army.
The regular troops, amounting to
about sixty, were commanded by Col
onel Zebulon Butler,* the militia by
Colonel Dennison. Colonel Butler was
desirous of awaiting the arrival of a
* This officer was not of the same family with the tory
Butler. See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

small reinforcement under Captain Spal
ding, who had been ordered by Wash
ington to his aid on the first intelli
gence of the danger which threatened
the settlement; but the militia generally,
believing themselves sufficiently strong
to repel the invading force, urged an
immediate battle so earnestly, that Co
lonel Butler yielded to their remonstran
ces, and on the 3d of July marched from
Forty Fort, at the head of near four
hundred men, to attack the enemy.
The British and Indians were pre
pared to receive him. Their line was
formed a small distance in front of their
camp, on a plain thinly covered with
pine, shrub-oaks, and under-growth, and
extended from the river about a mile
to a marsh at the foot of the mountain.
The Americans advanced in a single
column, without interruption, until they
approached the enemy, when they re
ceived a fire which did not much mis
chief. The line of battle was instantly
formed, and the action commenced with
spirit. The Americans rather gained
ground on the right, where Colonel
Butler commanded, until a large body
of Indians passing through the skirt of
the marsh turned their left flank, which
was composed of militia, and poured a
heavy and most destructive fire on their
rear. The word "retreat" was pro
nounced by some person, and the efforts
of the officers to check it were unavail
ing. The fate of the day was decided,
and a flight commenced on the left,
which was soon followed by the right.
As soon as the line was broken, the In-

66

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book TV.

dians, throwing down their rifles and
rushing upon them with the tomahawk,
completed the confusion. The attempt
of Colonel Butler and of the officers to
restore order was unavailing, and the
whole line broke and fled in confusion.
The massacre was general, and the cries
for mercy were answered by the tom
ahawk. Rather less than sixty men
escaped, some to Forty Fort, some by
swimming the river, and some to the
mountain. A very few prisoners were
made, only three of whom were pre
served alive, who were carried to Ni
agara. Further resistance was impracticable,
and Colonel Dennison proposed terms
of capitulation, which were granted to
the inhabitants. It being understood
that no quarter would be allowed to
the continental troops, Colonel Butler
with his few surviving soldiers fled from
the valley.
The inhabitants generally abandoned
the country, and, in great distress, wan
dered into the settlements on the Le
high and the Delaware. The Indians,
according to their usual practice, de
stroyed the houses and improvements
by fire, and plundered the country.
After laying waste the whole settle
ment, they withdrew from it before the
arrival of the continental troops, who
were ordered to meet them.
On the 11th of November, five hun
dred Indians and loyalists, with a small
detachment of regular troops, under the
command of the notorious John Butler,
made, an irruption into the settlement

at Cherry Valley, in the State of New
York, surprised and killed Colonel Al
len, commander of the American force
at that place, and ten of his soldiers.
They attacked a fort erected there, but
were compelled to retreat. Next day
they left the place, after having mur
dered and scalped thirty-two of the in
habitants, chiefly women and children.
On the first intelligence of the de
struction of Wyoming, the regiments of
Hartley and Butler, with the remnant
of Morgan's corps, commanded by Major
Posey, were detached to the protection
of that distressed country. They were
engaged in several sharp skirmishes,
made separate incursions into the In
dian settlements, broke up their nearest
villages, destroyed their corn, and, by
compelling them to retire to a greater
distance, gave some relief to the inhab
itants. While the frontiers of New York and
Pennsylvania were thus suffering the
calamities incident to savage warfare, a
fate equally severe was preparing for
Virginia. The western militia of that
State had made some successful incur
sions into the country northwest of the'
Ohio, and had taken some British posts
on the Mississippi. These were erected
into the county of Illinois ; and a regi
ment of infantry, with a troop of cav
alry, was raised for its protection. The
command of these troops was given to
Colonel George Rogers Clarke,* a gen
tleman whose courage, hardihood, and
* See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. XVI.]

PREPARATIONS TO CHASTISE THE INDIANS.

67

capacity for Indian warfare had given re
peated success to his enterprises against
the savages.
This corps was divided into several
detachments, the strongest of which re
mained with Colonel Clarke at Kaskas-
kia. Colonel Hamilton, the governor
of Detroit, was at Vincennes with about
six hundred men, principally Indians,
preparing an expedition, first against
KaskasMa, and then up the Ohio to
Pittsburg ; after which he purposed
to desolate the frontiers of Virginia.
Clarke anticipated and defeated his de
sign by one of those bold and decisive
measures, which, whether formed on a
great or a small scale, mark the mili
tary and enterprising genius of the man
who plans and executes them.
He was too far removed from the in
habited country to hope for support, and
was too weak to maintain Kas-
kaskia and the Illinois against
the combined force of regulars and In
dians by which he was to be attacked
so soon as the season for action should
arrive. While employed in preparing
for his defence, he received unquestion
able information that Hamilton had
detached his Indians on an expedition
against the frontiers, reserving at the
post he occupied only about eighty reg
ulars, with three pieces of cannon and
some swivels. Clarke instantly resolved
to seize this favorable moment. After
detaching a small galley up the Wa
bash, with orders to take her station a
few miles below Vincennes, and to per
mit nothing to pass her, he marched in

the depth of winter with one hundred
and thirty men, the whole force he
could collect, across the country from
Kaskaskia to Vincennes. This march,
through the woods and over high wa
ters, required sixteen days, five of which
were employed in crossing the drowned
lands of the Wabash. The troops were
under the necessity of wading five miles
in water, frequently up to their breasts.
After subduing these difficulties, this
small party appeared before the town,
which was completely surprised, and
readily consented to change its master.
Hamilton, after defending the fort a
short time, surrendered himself and his
garrison prisoners of war. With a few
of his immediate agents and counsellors,
who had been instrumental in the sav
age barbarities he had encouraged, he
was, by order of the executive of Vir
ginia, put in irons, and confined in
a jail. This expedition was important in its
consequences. It disconcerted a plan
which threatened destruction to the
whole country west of the Alleghany
Mountains, detached from the British
interest many of those numerous tribes
of Indians south of the waters imme
diately communicating with the great
lakes, and had most probably consider
able influence in fixing the boundary of
the United States.
These Indian hostilities on the west
ern border were a subject of extreme
solicitude to Washington, ever alive as
he was to the cry of distress, and ever
anxious to preserve peace and security

68

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

to the rural population of the country.
Experience and observation had long
since taught him that the only effectual
protection to the inhabitants of the
frontier settlements consisted in carry
ing the war with severity into the ene
my's own country. Hence we find that
from the moment these atrocities of the
Indians commenced in the western coun
try, he was engaged in planning that
expedition which, in the next campaign,
under the direction of General Sullivan,
carried desolation to their own homes,
and taught them a lesson which they
could not soon forget. In the following
extract of a letter to Governor George
Clinton of New York, dated March 4th,
1779, it will be perceived that he speaks
of his plan as already matured :
" The President of Congress has trans
mitted to me your Excellency's letter to
the delegates of New York, represent
ing the calamitous situation of the north
western frontier of that State, accompa
nied by a similar application from the
Pennsylvania Assembly, and a resolve
of the 25th, directing me to take the
most effectual measures for the protec
tion of the inhabitants and chastisement
of the Indians. The resolve has been
in some measure anticipated by my pre
vious dispositions for carrying on offen
sive operations against the hostile tribes
of savages. It has always been my in
tention early to communicate this mat
ter to your Excellency in confidence,
and I take occasion, from the letter
above mentioned, to inform you that
preparations have some time since been

making, and they will be conducted to
the point of execution at a proper sea
son, if no unexpected accident prevents,
and the situation of affairs on the mari
time frontier justifies the undertaking.
" The greatest secrecy is necessary to
the success of such an enterprise, for the
following obvious reasons : that, imme
diately upon the discovery of our de
sign, the savages would either put them
selves in condition to make head against
us, by a reunion of all their force and
that of their allies, strengthened besides
by succors from Canada ; or elude the
expedition altogether, which might be
done at the expense of a temporary
evacuation of forests which we could
not possess, and the destruction of a few
settlements which they might speedily
re-establish." Washington concludes this letter by
calling upon Governor Clinton for an
account of the force which New York
can furnish for the contemplated expe
dition, and describing the kind of men
most desirable for this peculiar service,
— " active rangers, who are at the same
time expert marksmen, and accustomed
to the irregular kind of wood-fighting
practised by the Indians." He con
cludes by expressing a desire to have
the advantage of any sentiments or ad
vice the governor might be pleased
to communicate relative to the expedi
tion. This is but one among many
instances which might be cited of the
vigilance and unceasing activity of
Washington in every thing connected
with the national defence.

Chap. XVI.]

WASHINGTON'S VISIT TO CONGRESS.

69

1778.

In addition to this Indian war, Wash
ington at this time had another cause of
deep anxiety continually upon
his mind, in the comparatively
weak and inefficient character of the
legislative body to whom he must ne
cessarily look for support and sanction
in all his measures for the defence of
the country. The Congress of 1774, —
that Congress whose proceedings and
State papers had elicited the admiration
of the illustrious Earl of Chatham, — had
comprised the ablest and most influen
tial men in the country. But most of
these men had withdrawn from Con
gress, or had accepted high offices under
their own State governments, and their
places had either not been filled at all,
or had been filled by incompetent men.
For the year 1778, the average number
of members had been between twenty-
five and thirty. Some States were not
represented, and others had not sent
delegates enough to entitle them to
a vote. But small as the number of
delegates in Congress was, they were
sufficiently numerous to entertain the
fiercest feuds among themselves, and
seriously to embarrass the public ser
vice by permitting party considerations
to interfere with the measures most es
sential to the safety and efficiency of
the army, and the preservation of order
in the country. Washington was acute
ly sensible to this disastrous state of
things. Full of disinterested zeal for
the public service, he could hardly com
prehend the apathy prevailing in the
different States, which occasioned their
Vol. II.— 10

omitting to fill up their quotas of rep
resentatives in Congress ; and he was
embarrassed and distressed with the
weak and inefficient manner in which
the military and civil affairs under the
direction of Congress were conducted.
In a letter to Benjamin Harrison, of
Virginia, a member of the Congress of
1774, he expresses frankly his views on
this unpleasant topic as follows : " It
appears as clear to me as ever the sun
did in its meridian brightness, that
America never stood in more eminent
need of the wise, patriotic, and spirited
exertions of her sons than at this pe
riod ; and, if it is not a sufficient cause
for general lamentation, my miscon
ception of the matter impresses it too
strongly upon me, that the States, sepa
rately, are too much engaged in their
local concerns, and have too many of
their ablest men withdrawn from the
general council, for the good of the com
mon weal. In a word, I think our po
litical system may be compared to the
mechanism of a clock, and that we
should derive a lesson from it; for it
answers no good purpose to keep the
smaller wheels in order, if the greater
one, which is the support and prime
mover of the whole, is neglected. How
far the latter is the case, it does not be
come me to pronounce ; but as there
can be no harm in a pious wish for the
good of one's country, I shall offer it as
mine, that each would not only choose,
but absolutely compel their ablest men
to attend Congress ; and that they
would instruct them to go into a thor-

70

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ough investigation of the causes that
have produced so many disagreeable
effects in the army and country ; in a
word, that public abuses should be cor
rected. Without this, it does not, in
my judgment, require the spirit of divi
nation to foretell the consequences of
the present administration, nor to how
little purpose the States individually are
framing constitutions, providing laws,
and filling offices with the abilities of
their ablest men. These, if the great
whole is mismanaged, must sink in the
general wreck, which will carry with it
the remorse of thinking that we are lost
by our own folly and negligence, or by
the desire, perhaps, of living in ease and
tranquillity during the accomplishment
of so great a revolution, in the effecting
of which the greatest abilities and the
most honest men our American world
affords ought to be employed.
"It is much to be feared, my dear
sir, that the States, in their separate
capacities, have very inadequate ideas
of the present danger. Many persons,
removed far distant from the scene of
action, and seeing and hearing such
publications only as flatter their wishes,
conceive that the contest is at an end,
and that to regulate the government
and police of their own State is all that
remains to be done ; but it is devoutly
to be wished that a sad reverse of this
may not fall upon them like a thunder
clap that is little expected. I do not
mean to designate particular States. I
wish to cast no reflections upon any
one. The public believe (and, if they

do believe it, the fact might almost as
well be so) that the States at this time
are badly represented, and that the
great and important concerns of the
nation are horribly conducted, for want
either of abilities or application in the
members, or through the discord and
party views of some individuals. That
they should be so, is to be lamented
more at this time than formerly, as we
are far advanced in the dispute, and,
in the opinion of many, drawing to a
happy period : we have the eyes of
Europe upon us, and I am persuaded
many political spies to watch, who dis
cover our situation, and give informa
tion of our weaknesses and wants."
We have already seen that Congress,
actuated by their wishes rather than
governed by a temperate calculation of
the means in their possession,
had, in the preceding winter,
planned a second invasion of Canada,
to be conducted by Lafayette, and that,
as the generals only were got in readi
ness for this expedition, it was necessa
rily laid aside. The design, however,
seems to have been suspended, not
abandoned. The alliance with France
revived the latent wish to annex that
extensive territory to the United States.
That favorite subject was resumed ; and,
towards autumn, a plan was completely
digested for a combined attack to be
made by the allies on all the British
dominions on the continent, and on the
adjacent islands of Cape Breton and
Newfoundland. This plan was matured
about the time Lafayette obtained leave

1778.

Chap. XVI.]

WASHINGTON'S VISIT TO CONGRESS.

71

to return to his own country, and was
ordered to be transmitted by him to
Doctor Franklin, the minister of the
United States at the court of Versailles,
with instructions to induce, if possible,
the French cabinet to accede to it.
Some communications respecting this
subject were also made to Lafayette, on
whose influence in securing its adoption
by his own government much reliance
was placed ; and in October, 1778, it
was, for the first time, transmitted to
Washington, with a request that he
would inclose it by Lafayette, with his
observations on it, to Doctor Franklin.
This very extensive plan of military
operations for the ensuing campaign,
prepared entirely in the cabinet, with
out consulting, so far as is known, a
single military man, consisted of many
parts. Two detachments, amounting each to
sixteen hundred men, were to march
from Pittsburg and Wyoming against
Detroit and Niagara. A third body of
troops, which was to be stationed on
the Mohawk during the winter, and to
be powerfully reinforced in the spring,
was to seize Oswego, and to secure the
navigation of Lake Ontario with vessels
to be constructed of materials to be
procured in the winter. A fourth corps
was to penetrate into Canada by the
St. Francis, and to reduce Montreal and
the posts on Lake Champlain, while a
fifth should guard against troops from
Quebec. Thus far America could proceed un
aided by her ally. But, Upper Canada

being reduced, another campaign would
still be necessary for the reduction of
Quebec. This circumstance would re
quire that the army should pass the
winter in Canada ; and, in the mean
time, the garrison of Quebec might be
largely reinforced. It was therefore es
sential to the complete success of the
enterprise, that France should be in
duced to take a part in it.
The conquest of Quebec and of Hal
ifax was supposed to be an object of so
much importance to France as well as
to the United States, that her aid might
be confidently expected.
It was proposed to request the King
of France to furnish four or five thou
sand troops, to sail from Brest the be
ginning of May, under convoy of four
ships of the line and four frigates ; the
troops to be clad as if for service in the
West Indies, and thick clothes to be
sent after them in August. A large
American detachment was to act with
this French army, and it was supposed
that Quebec and Halifax might be re
duced by the beginning or middle of
October. The army might then either
proceed immediately against Newfound
land, or remain in garrison until the
spring, when the conquest of that place
might be accomplished.
It had been supposed probable that
England would abandon the further
prosecution of the war on the continent
of North America, in which case the
government would have a respectable
force at its disposal, the advantageous
employment of which had engaged in

72

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

part the attention of Washington. He
had contemplated an expedition against
the British posts in Upper Canada as a
measure which might be eventually eli
gible, and which might employ the arms
of the United States to advantage, if
their troops might safely be withdrawn
from the sea-board. He had, however,
considered every object of this sort as
contingent. Having estimated the diffi
culties to be encountered in such an en
terprise, he had found them so consid
erable as to hesitate on the extent which
might safely be given to the expedition,
admitting the United States to be evac
uated by the British armies.
In this state of mind, Washington
received the magnificent plan already
prepared by Congress. He was forci
bly struck with the impracticability of
executing that part of it which was to
be undertaken by the United States,
should the British armies continue in
the country, and with the serious mis
chief which would result to the common
cause, as well from diverting so consid
erable a part of the French force from
other objects to one which was, in his
opinion, so unpromising, as from the ill
impression which would be made on
the court and nation by the total failure
of the American government to exe
cute its part of a plan originating with
itself, — a failure which would, most
probably, sacrifice the troops and ships
employed by France.
On comparing the naval force of
England with that of France in the
different parts of the world, the former

appeared to Washington to maintain a
decided superiority, and consequently
to possess the power of shutting up the
ships of the latter which might be
trusted into the St. Lawrence. To sup
pose that the British government would
not avail itself of this superiority on
such an occasion, would be to impute
to it a blind infatuation, or ignorance
of the plans of its adversary, which
could not be safely assumed in calcula
tions of such serious import.
A plan, too, consisting of so many
parts, to be prosecuted both from Eu
rope and America, by land and by wa
ter, — which, to be successful, required
such an harmonious co-operation of the
whole, such a perfect coincidence of
events, — appeared to him to be exposed
to too many accidents to risk upon it
interests of such high value.
In a long and serious letter to Con
gress, he apologized for not obeying
their orders to deliver the plan, with
his observations upon it, to Lafayette ;
and, entering into a full investigation
of all its parts, demonstrated the mis
chiefs and the dangers with which it
was replete. This letter was referred
to a committee, whose report admits
the force of the reasons urged by Wash
ington against the expedition, and their
own conviction that nothing important
could be attempted unless the British
armies should be withdrawn from the
United States, and that even in that
event the present plan was far too com
plex. Men, however, recede slowly and re-

Chap. XVI.]

RESULT OF WASHINGTON'S VISIT.

73

luctantly from favorite and flattering
projects on which they have long med
itated ; and the committee, in their re
port, proceeded to state the opinion,
that the posts held by the British in
the United States would probably be
evacuated before the active part of the
ensuing campaign, and that, therefore,
eventual measures for the expedition
ought to be taken.
This report concludes with recom
mending, "that the general should be
directed to write to the Marquis de
Lafayette on that subject; and also to
write to the minister of these States at
the court of Versailles very fully, to
the end that eventual measures may be
taken, in case an armament should be
sent from France to Quebec, for co
operating therewith to the utmost de
gree which the finances and resources
of these States will admit."
This report also was approved by
Congress, and transmitted to Washing
ton, who felt himself greatly embar
rassed by it. While his objections to
the project retained all their force, he
found himself required to open a cor
respondence for the purposes of soli
citing the concurrence of France in an
expedition he disapproved, and of prom
ising a co-operation he believed to be
impracticable. In reply to this com
munication, he said : " The earnest de
sire I have strictly to comply, in every
instance, with the views and instructions
of Congress, cannot but make me feel
the greatest uneasiness when I find my
self in circumstances of hesitation or

doubt with respect to their directions.
But the perfect confidence I have in
the justice and candor of that honor
able body emboldens me to communi
cate, without reserve, the difficulties
which occur in the execution of their
present order ; and the indulgence I
have experienced on every former occa
sion induces me to imagine that the lib
erty I now take will not meet with dis
approbation." After reviewing the report of the
committee, and stating his objections to
the plan, and the difficulties he felt in
performing the duty assigned to him,
he added : " But if Congress still think
it necessary for me to proceed in the
business, I must request their more defi
nite and explicit instructions, and that
they will permit me, previous to trans
mitting the intended dispatches, to sub
mit them to their determination.
" I could wish to lay before Congress
more minutely the state of the army,
the condition of our supplies, and the
requisites necessary for carrying into
execution an undertaking that may in
volve the most serious events. If Con
gress think this can be done more sat
isfactorily in a personal conference, I
hope to have the army in such a situa
tion before I can receive their answer,
as to afford me an opportunity of giving
my attendance."
Congress acceded to his request for a
personal interview ; and, on his arrival
in Philadelphia, a committee was ap
pointed to confer with him, as well on
this particular subject as on the gen-

74

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

eral state of the army and of the coun
try* The result of these conferences was,
that the expedition against Canada was
entirely, though reluctantly, given up,
and every arrangement recommended
by Washington received that attention
which was due to his judgment and ex
perience, and which his opinions were
entitled to receive.
If any thing were necessary to be
added to this ridiculous scheme for the
conquest of Canada, in order to prove
the inefficiency and folly of the Con
gress of 1778, we have it in the fact
that France was averse to adding that
province to the United States, and did
not desire to acquire it for herself. She
e Sje Docum ;nt [C] at the end of this chapter.

only sought the independence of this
country, and its permanent alliance.
Mr. De Sevelinges, in his introduction
to Botta's History, recites the private
instructions to Mr. Gerard on his mis
sion to the United States. One article
was, " to avoid entering into any formal
engagement relative to Canada and oth
er English possessions which Congress
proposed to conquer. Mr. De Seve
linges adds, that " the policy of the cab
inet of Versailles viewed the possession
of those countries, especially of Canada
by England, as a principle of useful
inquietude and vigilance to the Amer
icans. The neighborhood of a formida
ble enemy must make them feel more
sensibly the price which they ought to
attach to the friendship and support of
the King of France."

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XYI.

[A.]
COLONEL ZEBTJLON BTJTLEK
ZEBtixoiir Butler was horn at Lyme, in the
State of Connecticut, in the year 1731. He
entered early in life into the service of his conn-
try in the provincial troops of his native State.
In this service he remained, actively employed,
for several years, and rose from the rank of an
ensign to the command of a company. He par
took largely in the transactions of the war be
tween the English and French on the frontiers
of Canada, particularly in the campaign of 1*758,
at Fort Edward, Lake George, Ticonderoga,
and Crown Point. In 1761- he was again at
Crown Point, and at that time held the rank of
captain. The history of these transactions is
well known, and need not here be repeated.
In June, 11 6 2, Captain Butler sailed with his
company, and the other provincial troops, to
reinforce the British, then besieging Havana ;
and on the 20th of July the vessel in which he
sailed was shipwrecked on a reef of rocks on the
island of Cuba. They were fortunate enough
to escape to the shore, where they remained
nine days, and were then taken on board a man-
of-war. Five other ships were discovered also
shipwrecked on the same side of the island ; and
after waiting until these were relieved, they
again steered for Havana. They arrived and
anchored with the rest of the fleet on the 9th of
August, and the next day ^nded and encamped.
The sufferings and the success of the British
at the siege of Havana are matters of history.
Captain Butler shared in the dangers of the re
mainder of the siege, as well as in the hon
ors and profits of the surrender, which took

place shortly after the arrival of the reinforce
ments. On the 21st of October, 1762, Captain Butler
sailed out of the harbor of Havana, on his re
turn, on board the Royal Duke transport. On
the 7th of November, in latitude 35, the ship
sprung a leak, and it was only by the greatest
exertions for three days that she could be kept
afloat until the men were transferred to other
ships. When this was accomplished, they left
the Royal Duke to sink. Butler arrived at New
York on the 21st day of December.
When the aggressions of the British ministry
compelled their American colonies to take up
arms in defence of their rights, Captain Butler
was among the first to tender his services to his
country. His offer was accepted, and he was
appointed a lieutenant-colonel in the Connecti
cut line. In this capacity he was with the army
in the campaign of 1777, in New Jersey, and
served until 1779, when he was appointed colo
nel of the second Connecticut regiment, to rank
as such from the 13th of March, 1778. Some
time previous to this, Colonel Butler had be
come interested in lands purchased of the In
dians by the Susquehanna Company, lying in
the valley of Wyoming, and adjacent to the
Susquehanna River. He had visited the valley,
and was so much pleased with it that he deter
mined to remove into it. This flourishing set
tlement had been established by the people of
Connecticut, and was claimed by them by vir
tue of their charter and their purchase from the
Indians. It consisted of several large town
ships, beautifully situated on both sides of the
river ; and that part of it which is included in
the valley of Wyoming was, and still is, one of

76

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

the most delightful spots in our country. Its
situation, soil, and scenery cannot be surpassed.
It had long been the favorite abode of the sav
ages, and they viewed, with peculiar animosity,
its occupancy by strangers. The war in which
the colonists were engaged with the mother
country, and the encouragement and protection
held out by the British to the Indians, afforded
the latter a good opportunity for gratifying their
wicked designs, in the destruction of this remote
settlement. This they, in conjunction with the
British tories, effectually accomplished in July,
1778. This settlement, at an early period of our
revolutionary struggle, had been drained of its
effective force, by furnishing two companies, of
ninety men each, to the continental army. Soon
after the departure of these troops, the Indians
began to assume a hostile attitude, and their
conduct, together with other suspicious circum
stances, led the inhabitants to suspect that some
mischief was meditated against them, though
they did not apprehend an immediate attack.
For their better security, several stockade forts
were built in the different townships, and a com
pany of rangers was raised under the command
of Captain Hewitt. This company was destined
to remain in the valley for its defence, and to
ascertain by its scouts the movements of the
Indians, some of whom were located at their
Indian towns about fifty miles up the Susque
hanna. In the spring of 1778, the settlers, fear
ing an attack, sent an express to the Board of
War, to represent the danger in which the set
tlement at Wyoming was of being destroyed
by the Indians and tories, and to request that
the men who had gone from the valley, and
joined the continental army, might be ordered
to return and assist in the defence of their
homes. Their request was granted, and a com
pany commanded by Captain Spalding, com
posed of what remained of the two companies
before mentioned as having been enlisted at
Wyoming, set out for the valley, and were
within two days' march of it on the day of the
fatal battle. About the first of June, the same
year, a scouting-party from Captain Hewitt's
company discovered a number of canoes, with
Indians, on the river at some distance above the

settlement ; and a few days after a party of In
dians attacked and killed, or made prisoners,
nine or ten men, while at work on the bank of
the river, about ten miles above the fort. Many
circumstances indicated the approach of a large
body of the enemy. Such was the situation of
the settlement when Colonel Butler arrived.
This was the latter part of June, and but a few
days before the battle. On the first of July, the
militia, under the command of Colonel Denison,
with all others who were capable and willing to
bear arms, assembled at the fort at Wilkesbarre,
that being the principal fort. They made an
excursion against the enemy, killed two Indians,
and found the bodies of the men who had been
murdered by them. When they returned, each
man was obliged to go to his own house and
furnish himself with provisions, as there were
none collected at the fort. In consequence of
this dispersion, they were not able to assemble
again until the third of July, when their whole
strength amounted to about three hundred and
fifty men.
It probably would have been greater, but
many of the settlers chose rather to remain in
the other forts for the purpose of defending their
families and property, in which they naturally
felt a greater interest than in the general welfare.
Of the whole force, consisting of the militia, Cap
tain Hewitt's company of rangers, and a few
volunteers, including several officers and sol
diers of the regular army, who happened to be
in the valley, Colonel Butler was requested to
take the command. The whole, as before stated,
amounted to about three hundred and fifty
men, indifferently furnished with arms and am
munition. As the enemy had entered the valley at the
upper end, and had advanced directly towards
the fort in which the settlers were assembled,
the object of the savages was supposed to be to
attack them in the fort. The enemy had taken
Fort Wintermoot, and one other small fort, and
burnt them, aci \vere burning and laying waste
the whole country in their progress. Colonel
Butler held a consultation with the officers, and
it was decided to be best to go out and inter
cept the progress of the enemy, if possible, and
put an end to the scene of devastation which

Chap. XVI.]

DOCUMENTS.

77

they witnessed. Being perfectly acquainted
with the country, they marched out some dis
tance from the fort, and formed on the bank of
a creek, in a very advantageous situation. Here
they lay concealed, expecting that the enemy
would advance to attack the fort, and knowing
that if they did so they would pass the place
where the Americans were in ambush. In this
situation they remained near half a day, but no
enemy appearing, a council was called, in which
there was a difference of opinion as to the expe
diency of advancing and attacking the enemy,
or of returning to the fort, there to defend
themselves until the arrival of Captain Spal
ding's company, which was daily expected. On
the one hand, the hope of succor, and their un
certainty as to the strength of the enemy, were
urged as reasons for returning ; and on the
other, the destruction of the whole country,
which would inevitably follow such a step, to
gether with the insufficiency of the fort, and the
want of provisions to enable them to stand a
siege, were powerful reasons in favor of risking
an immediate battle. Captain Lazarus Stewart,
a brave man, famous in the country for his ex
ploits among the Indians, and whose opinion
had much weight, urged an immediate attack ;
declaring that if they did not march forward
that day and attack the enemy, he would with
draw with his whole company. This left them
no alternative, and they advanced accordingly.
They had not gone above a mile, before the
advance guard fired upon some Indians who
were in the act of plundering and burning a
house. These fled to their camp, and gave the
alarm that the Americans were approaching.
Fort Wintermoot was at this time the head
quarters of the enemy. Their whole force, con
sisting of Indians, British, and tories, was, as
near as could be afterwards ascertained, about
one thousand men, and was commanded by
Colonel John Butler, an officer of the British
army, and an Indian chief called Brandt. They
were apparently unapprised of the movements
of the Americans, until the return to the main
body of those Indians who had been fired upon.
They immediately extended themselves in a
line from the fort, across a plain covered with
pine-trees and underbrush. When formed, the
Voi. IX— 11

right of the enemy rested on a swamp, and
their left on Fort Wintermoot. The Americans
marched to the attack also in a line, Colonel
Zebulon Butler leading on the right wing, op
posed by Colonel John Butler, at the head of
the British troops, painted to resemble Indians ;
Colonel Denison was on the left, and opposed
by Brandt and the Indians. In this position
the parties engaged, and each supported its
ground for some time with much firmness. At
length the Americans on the right had the ad
vantage of the fight, having forced the enemy's
left wing to retire some distance. But on the
left the battle soon wore a different aspect. The
Indians, having penetrated the swamp, were
discovered attempting to get into their rear.
Colonel Denison immediately gave orders for
the left to fall back and meet them as they came
out of the swamp. This order was misunder
stood, and some of the men or officers cried out,
"The colonel orders a retreat!" The left im
mediately gave way, and before they could be
undeceived as to the object of the order, the
line broke, and the Indians rushed on with hid
eous yells. Colonel Zebulon Butler, who had
continued on horseback throughout the day,
finding that the right wing was doing well, rode
towards the left. When he got a little more
than half way down the line, he discovered that
his men were retreating, and that he was be
tween the two fires, and near the advancing
line of the enemy. The right had no notice of
the retreat until the firing on the left had ceased,
and the yelling of the savages indicated their
success. This wing, no longer able to maintain
its ground, was forced to retreat, and the rout
soon became general. The officers were princi
pally killed in their ineffectual attempts to rally
the men. The defeat was total, and the loss in
killed was variously estimated at from two to
three hundred of the settlers. Of Captain Hew
itt's company but fifteen escaped. The loss of
the enemy was also considerable. Colonels
Butler and Denison, although much exposed to
the enemy's fire, escaped. Colonel Butler col
lected four or five men together in their flight,
directed them to retain their arms ; and when
any of the Indians, who were scattered over the
plain, hunting for their victims, approached the

78

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

little party, they fired upon them, and by this
means they secured their retreat to Forty Fort.
Many of the settlers, at the commencement of
their flight, had thrown away their arms, that
they might be better able to escape. But this
was of no avail, for the Indians overtook and
killed them with their tomahawks. The few
that escaped assembled at Forty Fort ; but the
inhabitants were so much disheartened by their
defeat, that they were ready to submit upon
any terms that might be offered. The enemy
refused to treat with Colonel Butler, or to give
quarter to any continental officer or soldier.
Indeed, it had been determined, if they were
taken, to deliver them into the hands of the In
dians. Colonel Butler then left the valley, and
proceeded to a place on the Lehigh, called Gna-
denhutten. On the fourth of July, Colonel
Denison and Colonel John Butler entered into
articles of capitulation for the surrender of the
settlement. By these articles it was stipulated,
among other things, that " the lives of the in
habitants should be preserved," and that they
should "occupy their farms peaceably;" that
"the continental stores should be given up,"
and that " the private property of the inhabit
ants should be preserved entire and unhurt."
The enemy then marched into the fort ; but the
conditions of the capitulation were entirely dis
regarded on their part. The Indians plundered
the inhabitants indiscriminately, and stripped
them even of such of their wearing apparel as
they chose to take. Complaint was made to
Colonel John Butler, who turned his back upon
them, saying he could not control the Indians,
and walked out of the fort. The people, finding
that they were left to the mercy of the tories
and savages, fled from the valley, and made the
best of their way, about fifty miles, through the
wilderness, to the nearest settlement of their
friends, leaving their property a prey to the
enemy. All the houses on the northwest side
of the Susquehanna were plundered and burnt.
They afterwards plundered and burnt the town
of Wilkesbarre. Having accomplished their
hellish purpose of destruction and desolation,
the main body of the enemy returned to Niag
ara, taking with them all the horses, cattle, and
other property which they did not think proper

to destroy, leaving behind them nothing but one
vast, melancholy scene of universal desolation.
It may be proper to notice the generally re
ceived opinion, that Colonel Zebulon Butler and
Colonel John Butler were cousins. This is
a mistake. Both parties denied having any
, knowledge of any relationship subsisting be
tween them.
From Gnadenhutten, Colonel Butler wrote to
the Board of War, giving an account of the
fatal disaster of the third of July. He then
went to Stroudsburg, in Northampton county,
where he found Captain Spalding's company,
and some fugitives from Wyoming. Colonel
Butler was ordered to collect what force he
could, and, with Spalding's company, return and
retake possession of the country. This he did
in the month of August following. On his re
turn to the valley, he found some straggling
Indians, and also a small party driving off cat
tle. These were soon dispersed, and their booty
taken from them. He immediately erected a
fort at Wilkesbarre, and established a garrison.
By orders from the Board of War, he continued
in the command of the place until the fall of
1780, during which time the garrison and the
inhabitants generally suffered from the incur
sions of the Indians. Several lives were lost,
and they killed a number of the Indians, though
no general battle was fought. General Sulli
van's expedition checked for awhile their rav
ages. He arrived in Wyoming in the spring of
1779, and as soon as proper arrangements could
be made, he marched into the country of the
Indians, leaving Colonel Butler in the command
of Wyoming.
By orders from General Washington, dated
" Head-quarters, New Windsor, December 29th,
1780," Colonel Butler was directed to deiner
the post at Wyoming to Captain Alexander
Mitchell, and to march with the men under his
command and join the army. This was stated
by General Washington to be in consequence of
" Congress having, in order to remove all cause
of jealousy and discontent between the States of
Pennsylvania and Connecticut, directed me to
withdraw the present garrison of Wyoming, and
replace them with troops from the continental
army not belonging to the line of Pennsylva-

Chap. XVI.]

DOCUMENTS.

79

nia or Connecticut, or citizens of either of said
States." In obedience to these orders, he re
paired to head-quarters, and remained with the
army during the rest of the war.
In the unhappy dispute between the citizens
of Connecticut and Pennsylvania, arising out of
the claims which the latter advanced to the
lands on the Susquehanna, upon which the for
mer had settled, Colonel Butler took an active
part in favor of the Connecticut settlers. He
considered them as acting on the defensive, and
the others as the aggressors. Open hostilities
commenced between the parties as early as 1769,
and were continued until after the Revolution
ary War. The New England people were twice
driven from their settlements, though they re
turned immediately with reinforcements, and
repossessed themselves of the country. Many
lives were lost on both sides, and innumerable
hardships endured, during this unfortunate con
test. No very general engagement ever took
place between the parties. The principal array
of forces which was at any time made against
each other, was at the defeat of Captain Plunket,
in 1785. This officer had marched from North
umberland for the purpose of dispossessing the
settlers at Wyoming, and taking possession of
it themselves in the name of the Pennsylvania
claimants. Colonel Butler, with a party of set
tlers, met them at the lower end of the valley,
defeated them, and drove them back. The de
cree of Trenton, as it is called, put an end to
hostilities, by determining that the jurisdiction
of the State of Pennsylvania extended over the
disputed territory. To this determination Colo
nel Butler, with most of the settlers, yielded.
After the war he continued to reside at Wyo
ming, and received appointments under the
State of Pennsylvania, particularly the situation
of lieutenant of the county. He died at Wilkes
barre on the 28th of July, 1795, in the sixty-
fourth year of his age.

[B.]
GENEEAL GEORGE ROGERS CLARKE.
This distinguished officer, the founder of Ken
tucky, and the most eminent of the early heroes

of the West, was born in September, 1743, in
Albemarle county, Virginia. In early life he
was, like Washington, a surveyor, an excellent
preparation for his subsequent services as a pi
oneer of settlements and a general in Indian
wars. In 1774 he served as an officer in Dun-
more's war, which first made him acquainted
with the western country. He first visited Ken
tucky in 1775, and held at that time apparently
the rank of major. Returning to Virginia in
the autumn of 1775, he prepared to move per
manently to the West in the following spring.
Having done this early in 1776, Clarke, whose
views reached much further than those of most
of the pioneers, set himself seriously to consider
the condition and prospects of the young repub
lic to which he had attached himself. Its ad
vantages were obvious, but its distance from
the settled colonies, and its exposure to hostile
Indian tribes, rendered its occupation perilous
in the extreme. But Clarke was no ordinary
character. His mind was clear and comprehen
sive, his personal courage of the truest stamp,
his energies, physical and mental, in full vigor,
and he was not to be daunted by dangers and
difficulties, however formidable. Having ex
plored the country south of the Ohio, and stud
ied the character and dispositions of the Indians,
he became convinced that the presence of the
British garrisons at Detroit, Kaskaskia, and Vin
cennes was the principal obstacle to the safe set
tlement of Kentucky. Convinced of the neces
sity of reducing these forts, he submitted a plan
for the purpose to the Virginia legislature in
December, 1777. It was approved by Governor
Henry and his council. Twelve hundred pounds
were appropriated to defray the expense, and
four companies of prime men were raised for
the expedition. Early in the spring of 1778,
they rendezvoused at Coon Island, six hundred
and seven miles by water below Fort Pitt.
Their first exploit was the surprise and capture
of Kaskaskia. Next, a detachment, under Cap
tain Joseph Bowman, surprised and captured
Cahokia. But the final and crowning exploit of
Clarke was the capture of St. Vincent's, or Vin
cennes, of which the particulars are given in the
text. In 1781, Clarke, now promoted to the rank

80

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

of brigadier-general, having with great difficulty
obtained the necessary force from the Virginia
Assembly, inflicted a terrible defeat on the hos
tile Indians on the Sciota, and gave peace for
ever after to the growing country of Kentucky.
The northwestern hostilities of the next ten
years were confined to the region north of the
Ohio, and were finally terminated by Wayne's
expedition. Meantime, Clarke had been directly and main
ly instrumental in forming the chief early settle
ments of Kentucky. Louisville was founded
immediately after the capture of Vincennes.
New emigrants poured into the country, and
about the first of April, 1779, the foundations
of Lexington were laid. The same year Clarke
descended the Ohio, with a part of his regiment,
to the Mississippi, and at the first high land on
the eastern bank built Fort Jefferson.
General Clarke's energy, intrepidity, and de
cision of character are forcibly illustrated by the
following extract from the "Notes of an Old
Officer :"
" The Indians came into the treaty at Fort
Washington in the most friendly manner, ex
cept the Shawnees, the most conceited and
most warlike of the aborigines — the first in at
a battle, the last at a treaty. Three hundred of
their finest warriors, set off in all their paint
and feathers, filed into the council-house. Their
number and demeanor, so unusual at an occasion
of this sort, was altogether unexpected and sus
picious. The United States stockade mustered
seventy men.
" In the centre of the hall, at a little table, sat
the commissary-general, Clarke, the indefatiga
ble scourge of these very marauders, General
Richard Butler, and Mr. Parsons : there were
present, also, a Captain Denny, who, I believe,
is still alive, and can attest this story. On the
part of the Indians, an old council sachem and a
war chief took the lead ; the latter, a tall, raw-
boned fellow, with an impudent and villainous
look, made a boisterous and threatening speech,
which operated effectually on the passions of the
Indians, who set up a prodigious whoop at every
pause. He concluded by presenting a black and
white wampum, to signify they were prepared for
either event — peace or war. Clarke exhibited

the same unaltered and careless countenance
he had shown during the whole scene, his head
leaning on his left hand, and his elbow resting on
the table. He raised his little cane and pushed
the sacred wampum off the table with very little
ceremony ; every Indian at the same moment
started from his seat with one of those sudden,
simultaneous, and peculiarly savage sounds,
which startle and disconcert the stoutest heart,
and can neither be described nor forgotten.
" Parsons, more civil than military in his hab
its, was poorly fitted for an emergency that prob
ably embarrassed even the hero of Saratoga, the
brother and father of soldiers. At this juncture
Clarke rose ; the scrutinizing eye cowered at
his glance : be stamped his foot on the prostrate
and insulted symbol, and ordered them to leave
the hall. They did so, apparently involuntarily.
" They were heard all that night debating in
the bushes near the fort. The raw-boned chief
was for war, the old sachem for peace ; the lat
ter prevailed, and the next morning they came
back and sued for peace."
General Clarke died at his seat at Locust
Grove, near Louisville, Kentucky, on the 13th
of February, 1817, in the seventy-fourth year of
his age. He had justly acquired the appellation
of the father of the western country.

[C]
REPORT OP THE COMMITTEE
APPOINTED TO CONFER WITH WASHINGTON ON THE SECOND
SCHEME FOR THE CONQUEST OF CANADA, AND ON THE
GENERAL STATE OF THE ARMY AND THE COUNTRY.
"January 1, 1779. The committee appointed
to confer with the commander-in-chief on the
operations of the next campaign, report, that
the plan proposed by Congress for the emanci
pation of Canada, in co-operation with an army
from France, was the principal subject of the
said conference.
That, impressed with a strong sense of the
injury and disgrace which must attend an infrac
tion of the proposed stipulations, on the part of
these States, your committee have taken a gen
eral view of our finances, of the circumstances
of our army, of the magazines of clothes, artil-

Chap. XVI.]

DOCUMENTS.

81

lery, arms and ammunition, and of the provis
ions in store, and which can be collected in
season. Your committee have also attentively consid
ered the intelligence and observations commu
nicated to them by the commander-in-chief,
respecting the number of troops and strong
holds of the enemy in Canada ; their naval force,
and entire command of the water communica
tion with that country; the difficulties, while
they possess such signal advantages, of penetra
ting it with an army by land ; the obstacles
which are to be surmounted in acquiring a na
val superiority ; the hostile temper of many of
the surrounding Indian tribes towards these
States ; and above all, the uncertainty whether
the enemy will not persevere in their system of
harassing and distressing our sea-coast and fron
tiers by a predatory war.
That on a most mature deliberation, your
committee cannot find room for a well-grounded
presumption that these States will be able to
perform their part of the proposed stipulations.
That in a measure of such moment, calculated
to call forth, and direct to a single object, a con
siderable portion of the force of our ally which
may otherwise be essentially employed, nothing
else than the highest probability of success could
justify Congress in making the proposition.
Tour committee are therefore of opinion, that

the negotiation in question, however desirable
and interesting, should be deferred until circum
stances render the co-operation of these States
more certain, practicable, and effectual.
That the minister plenipotentiary of these
States at the court of Versailles, the minister of
France in Pennsylvania, and the minister of
France, be respectively informed that the opera
tions of the next campaign must depend on such
a variety of contingencies to arise, as well from
our own internal circumstances and resources as
the progress and movements of our enemy, that
time alone can mature and point out the plan
which ought to be pursued. That Congress,
therefore, cannot, with a degree of confidence
answerable to the magnitude of the object, de
cide on the practicability of their co-operating
the next campaign in an enterprise for the
emancipation of Canada ; that every prepara
tion in our power will nevertheless be made for
acting with vigor against the common enemy,
and every favorable incident embraced with
alacrity to facilitate and hasten the freedom and
independence of Canada, and her union with
these States, — events which Congress, from mo
tives of policy with respect to the United States,
as well as of affection to their Canadian breth
ren, have greatly at heart."
This report is evidently inspired by Washing
ton, from beginning to end.

CHAPTER XVII.

1779.

Washington's operations in the northern states.

Washington visits Philadelphia, and confers with Congress. — Apathy of Congress and the people. — Its causes. —
Expedition against the Indians prepares to march. — Discontent in the Jersey brigade. — Remonstrance of the
officers, presented to Washington by General Maxwell. — Washington's answer. — Discontent continues. — Another
remonstrance. — Washington's embarrassment. — The Legislature of Jersey takes the matter up, and satisfies the
officers. — Washington's remarks to Congress on this affair. — Successful attack of Colonel Van Schaick on the
Onondagas. — Relative force of the British and American armies. — Defensive war only practicable. — Sir George
Collier destroys an immense amount of stores and property on the Chesapeake. — West Point fortified. — Position
of Stony and Verplanck's Points. — Clinton prepares to attack them. — Washington's preparations for resistance. —
Stony Point taken. — Fort Fayette taken. — Washington checks the further advance of Clinton. — Tryon sent on a
plundering and ravaging expedition to Connecticut. — He destroys Fairfield. — Washington directs General Parsons
to attack him. — Norwalk destroyed. — Washington plans an attack on Stony Point and Verplanck's Point. — He
gives the command of the expedition against Stony Point to Wayne. — Wayne captures Stony Point. — Failure of
the attempt on Fort Fayette at Verplanck's Point. — Stony Point dismantled and abandoned. — Movements of
Clinton. — Expedition from Boston against the British post at Penobscot. — Its failure. — Major Lee surprises the
British post at Paulus Hook. — Sullivan sent by Washington to chastise the hostile Indians of the Six Nations. —
His complete success. — Remarks on his devastating the Indian villages. — Washington's views on that subject. —
Admiral Arbuthnot arrives at New Vork. — D'Estaing arrives at Savannah, and assists Lincoln in the siege of that
place. — Assault repulsed. — Pulaski killed. — The siege raised. — D'Estaing goes to Europe. — Washington goes into
winter-quarters. — Clinton sails for Savannah with an army.

We have seen that Washington had
gone from his winter-quarters near Mid-
dlebrook, in the Jerseys, to hold a con
ference with Congress on the subject
of the invasion of Canada. When this
matter had been disposed of, there still
remained many subjects demanding the
joint attention of the supreme legislature
and the commander-in-chief; and accord
ingly he spent a considerable part of the
winter of 1778-9 at Philadelphia, con
sulting with Congress on measures for the
general defence and welfare of the coun

try. Washington felt extreme anxiety at
the inadequate means at his disposal for
conducting the campaign of 1779. The
state of Congress itself, as we have al
ready shown, was sufficiently embarrass
ing to him ; but there were other causes
of uneasiness in the general aspect of
affairs. The French alliance was con
sidered by the people as rendering the
cause of independence perfectly safe,
with little or no exertion on our part
England was supposed to be already
conquered in America ; and, moreover,

Chap. XVn.]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATES.

83

she was threatened with a Spanish war.
Hence the States were remiss in furnish
ing their quotas of men and money.
The currency, consisting of continental
bills, was so much depreciated, that a
silver dollar wzj worth forty dollars of
the paper money. The effect of this
last misfortune was soon apparent in
the conduct of the officers of the Jersey
brigade. In pursuance of Washington's plan
of chastising the Indians, to which we
referred in the last chapter, it was re
solved to lead a force into those villages
of the Six Nations which were hostile
to the United States, and destroy their
settlements. As the army destined for this expe
dition was about to move, alarming
symptoms of discontent appeared in a
part of it. The Jersey brigade, which
had been stationed during the winter
at Elizabethtown, was ordered early in
May to march by regiments. This or
der was answered by a letter from Gen
eral Maxwell, stating that the officers of
the first regiment had delivered a re
monstrance to their colonel, addressed
to the legislature of the State, declaring
that, unless their complaints on the sub
jects of pay and support should obtain
the immediate attention of that body,
they were, at the expiration of three
days, to be considered as having re
signed ; and requesting the legislature,
in that event, to appoint other officers
to succeed them. They declared, how
ever, their readiness to make every
preparation for obeying the orders

which had been given, and to continue
their attention to the regiment until a
reasonable time should elapse for the
appointment of their successors. " This,"
added the letter of General Maxwell,
" is a step they are extremely unwilling
to take, but it is such as I make no
doubt they will all take : nothing but
necessity — their not being able to sup
port themselves in time to come, and
being loaded with debts contracted in
time past — could have induced them to
resign at so critical a juncture."
The intelligence conveyed in this let
ter made a serious impression on Wash
ington. He was strongly attached to
the army and to its interests, had wit
nessed its virtues and its sufferings, and
lamented sincerely its present distresses.
The justice of the complaints made by
the officers could no more be denied,
than the measure they had adopted
could be approved. Relying on their
patriotism and on his own influence, he
immediately wrote a letter to General
Maxwell, to be laid before them, in
which, mingling the sensibility of a
friend with the authority of a general,
he addressed to their understanding,
and to their love of country, observa
tions calculated to invite their whole
attention to the consequences which
must result from the step they were
about to take.
"The patience and perseverance of
the army," proceeds the letter, "have
been, under every disadvantage, such
as to do them the highest honor both
at home and abroad, and have inspired

84

LLFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

me with an unlimited confidence of their
virtue, which has consoled me amidst
every perplexity and reverse of fortune
to which our affairs, in a struggle of this
nature, were necessarily exposed. Now
that we have made so great a progress
to the attainment of the end we have
in view, so that we cannot fail without
a most shameful desertion of our own
interests, any thing like a change of
conduct would imply a very unhappy
change of principles, and a forgetfulness
as well of what we owe to ourselves as
to our country. Did I suppose it pos
sible this could be the case, even in a
single regiment of the army, I should
be mortified and chagrined beyond ex
pression. I should feel it as a wound
given to my own honor, which I con
sider as embarked with that of the ar
my at large. But this I believe to be
impossible. Any corps that was about
to set an example of the kind would
weigh well the consequences, and no
officer of common discernment and sen
sibility would hazard them. If they
should stand alone in it, independent
of other consequences, what would be
their feelings on reflecting that they
had held themselves out to the world
in a point of light inferior to the rest of
the army ? Or if their example should
be followed, and become general, how
could they console themselves for hav
ing been the foremost in bringing ruin
and disgrace upon their country ? They
would remember that the army would
share a double portion of the general
infamy and distress, and that the char

acter of an American officer would be
come as infamous as it is now glorious.
" I confess the appearances in the
present instance are disagreeable ; but
I am convinced they seem to mean more
than they really do. The Jersey offi
cers have not been outdone by any
others in the qualities either of citizens
or soldiers ; and I am confident no part
of them would seriously intend any
thing that would be a stain on their
former reputation. The gentlemen can
not be in earnest ; they have only rea
soned wrong about the means of obtain
ing a good end, and, on consideration, I
hope and flatter myself they will re
nounce what must appear to be im
proper. At the opening of a campaign,
when under marching orders for an im
portant service, their own honor, duty
to the public and to themselves, and a
regard to military propriety, will not
suffer them to persist in a measure
which would be a violation of them all.
It will even wound their delicacy, coolly
to reflect that they have hazarded a step
which has an air of dictating terms to
their country, by taking advantage of
the necessity of the moment."
This letter did not completely pro
duce the desired effect. The officers
did not recede from their claims. In
an address to Washington, they ex
pressed their unhappiness that any act
of theirs should give him pain, but pro
ceeded to justify the step they had ta
ken. Repeated memorials had been
presented to their legislature, which had
been received with promises of atten-

Chap. XVII.]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATE&.

85

tion, but had been regularly neglected.
" At length," said they, " we have lost
all confidence in our legislature. Reason
and experience forbid that we should
have any. Few of us have private for
tunes ; many have families who already
are suffering every thing that can be
received from an ungrateful country.
Are we then to suffer all the inconve
niences, fatigues, and dangers of a mili
tary life, while our wives and our chil
dren are perishing for want of common
necessaries at home, — and that without
the most distant prospect of reward, for
our pay is now only nominal ? We are
sensible that your Excellency cannot
wish nor desire this from us.
" We are sorry that you should ima
gine we meant to disobey orders. It
was and still is our determination to
march with our regiment, and to do the
duty of officers, until the legislature
should have a reasonable time to ap
point others, but no longer.
" We beg leave to assure your Excel
lency that we have the highest sense of
your ability and virtues ; that executing
your orders has ever given us pleasure ;
that we love the service, and we love
our country, — but when that country
gets so lost to virtue and justice as to
forget to support its servants, it then
becomes their duty to retire from its
service." This letter was peculiarly embarrass
ing to Washington. To adopt a stern
course of proceeding might hazard the
loss of the Jersey line, an event not less
injurious to the service than painful to
Vol. IT —12

himself. To take up the subject with
out doing too much for the circum
stances of the army, would be doing too
little for the occasion. He therefore
declined taking any other notice of the
letter, than to declare, through General
Maxwell, that while they continued to
do their duty in conformity with the
determination they had expressed, he
should only regret the part they had
taken, and should hope they would per
ceive its impropriety.
The legislature of New Jersey, alarm
ed at the decisive step taken by the
officers, was at length induced to pay
some attention to their situation, — they
consenting, on their part, to withdraw
their remonstrance. In the mean time,
they continued to perform their duty,
and their march was not delayed by
this unpleasant altercation.
In communicating this transaction to
Congress, Washington took occasion to
remind that body of his having fre
quently urged the absolute necessity
of some general and adequate provis
ion for the officers of the army. "I
shall only observe," continued the let
ter, "that the distresses in some corps
are so great, either where they were not
until lately attached to any particular
State, or where the State has been less
provident, that the officers have solicit
ed even to be supplied with the clothing
destined for the common soldiery, coarse
and unsuitable as it was. I had not
power to comply with the request.
" The patience of men animated by a
sense of duty and honor will support

86

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book TV.

them to a certain point, beyond which
it will not go. I doubt not Congress
will be sensible of the danger of an ex
treme in this respect, and will pardon
my anxiety to obviate it."
Before the troops destined for the
grand expedition were put in motion,
an enterprise of less extent was under
taken, which was completely successful.
A plan for surprising the towns of the
Onondagas, one of the nearest of the
hostile tribes, having been formed by
General Schuyler, and approved by
Washington, Colonel Van Schaick, as
sisted by Lieutenant-colonel Willet and
Major Cochran, marched from Fort
Schuyler on the morning of the 19th of
April, at the head of between five and
six hundred men, and on the third day
reached the point of destination. The
whole settlement was destroyed, after
which the detachment returned to Fort
Schuyler without the loss of a single
man. For this handsome display of
talents as a partisan, the thanks of Con
gress were voted to Colonel Van Schaick
and the officers and soldiers under his
command. The cruelties exercised by the Indians
in the course of the preceding year had
given a great degree of importance to the
expedition now meditated against them ;
and the relative military strength and
situation of the two parties rendered it
improbable that any other offensive op
erations could be carried on by the
Americans in the course of the present
campaign. The army under the com
mand of Sir Henry Clinton, exclusive of

the troops in the southern department,
was computed at between sixteen and
seventeen thousand men. The Ameri
can army, the largest division of which
lay at Middlebrook, under the immedi
ate command of Washington, was rather
inferior to that of the British in real
strength. The grand total, except those
in the southern and western country,
including officers of every description,
amounted to about sixteen thousand.
Three thousand of these were in New
England, under the command of Gen
eral Gates ; and the remaining thirteen
thousand were cantoned on both sides
of the North River.
After the destruction of forts Clinton
and Montgomery in 1777, it had been
determined to construct the fortifica
tions intended for the future defence of
the North River, at West Point, a posi
tion which, being more completely em
bosomed in the hills, was deemed more
defensible. The works had been pros
ecuted with unremitting industry, but
were far from being completed.
King's Ferry, some miles below West
Point, where the great road, the most
convenient communication between the
Middle and Eastern States, crossed the
North River, is completely commanded
by two opposite points of land. That
on the west side, a rough and elevated
piece of ground, is denominated Stony
Point ; and the other, on the east side,
a flat neck of land projecting far into
the water, is called Verplanck's Point.
The command of King's Ferry was an
object worth the attention of either

Chap. XVII.]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATES.

87

army, and Washington had compre
hended the points which protect it
within his plan of defence for the High
lands. A small but strong work, called
Fort Fayette, was completed at Ver
planck's, and was garrisoned by a com
pany commanded by Captain Arm
strong. The works on Stony Point
were unfinished. As the season for ac
tive operations approached, Sir Henry
Clinton formed a plan for opening the
campaign with a brilliant coup de main
up the North River, and towards the
latter end of May made preparations
for the enterprise.
These preparations were immediately
communicated to Washington, who was
confident that Clinton meditated an at
tack on the forts in the Highlands, pr
designed to take a position between
those forts and Middlebrook, in order
to interrupt the communication between
the different parts of the American ar
my, to prevent their reunion, and to
beat them in detail. Measures were
instantly taken to counteract either of
these designs. The intelligence from
New York was communicated to gen
erals Putnam and M'Dougal, who were
ordered to hold themselves in readiness
to march ; and, on the 29th of May, the
army moved by divisions from Middle-
brook towards the Highlands. On the
30th, the British army, commanded by
Clinton in person, and convoyed by Sir
George Collier, proceeded up the river ;
and General Vaughan, at the head of
the largest division, landed next morn
ing about eight miles below Verplanck's.

The other division, under the particular
command of General Patterson, but ac
companied by Clinton, advancing fur
ther up, landed on the west side within
three miles of Stony Point.
That place being immediately aban
doned, General Patterson took posses
sion of it on the same afternoon. He
dragged some heavy cannon and mor
tars to the summit of the hill in the
course of the night (June 1), and at five
next morning opened a battery on Fort
Fayette, at the distance of about one
thousand yards. During the following
night two galleys passed the fort, and,
anchoring above it, prevented the es
cape of the garrison by water, while
General Vaughan invested it closely by
land. No means of defending the fort
or of saving themselves remaining, the
garrison became prisoners of war. Im
mediate directions were given for com
pleting the works at both posts, and for
putting Stony Point, in particular, in a
strong state of defence.
Washington determined to check any
further advance of the enemy ; and be
fore Clinton was in a situation to pro
ceed against West Point, General M'Dou
gal was so strengthened, and the Amer
ican army took such a position on the
strong grounds about the Hudson, that
the enterprise became too hazardous to
be further prosecuted.
After completing the fortifications on
both sides of the river at King's Ferry,
Clinton placed a strong garrison in each
fort, and proceeded down the river to
Philipsburg. The relative situation of

S8

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book D7.

the hostile armies presenting insupera
ble obstacles to any grand operation,
they could be employed offensively only
on detached expeditions. Connecticut,
from its contiguity to New York, and
its extent of sea-coast, was peculiarly
exposed to invasion. The numerous
small cruisers which plied in the Sound,
to the great annoyance of British com
merce, and the large supplies of provis
ions drawn from the adjacent country
for the use of the continental army, fur
nished great inducements to Clinton to
direct his enterprises particularly against
that State. He also hoped to draw
Washington from his impregnable posi
tion on the North River into the low
country, and thus obtain an opportunity
of striking at some part of his army, or
of seizing the posts, which were the
great object of the campaign. With
these views he planned an expedition
against Connecticut, the command of
which was given to Governor Try on,
who reached New Haven Bay on the
5th of July, with about two thousand
six hundred men.
Washington was at the time on the
lines, examining in person the condition
of the works on Stony and Verplanck's
Points ; in consequence of which, the
intelligence which was transmitted to
head-quarters, that the fleet had sailed,
could not be immediately communicated
to the Governor of Connecticut, and the
first intimation which that State re
ceived of its danger was given by the
appearance of the enemy. The niilitia
assembled in considerable numbers with

alacrity ; but the British effected a land
ing, and took possession of the town.
After destroying the military
IT T"9
and naval stores found in the
place, they re-embarked, and proceeded
westward to Fairfield, which was re
duced to ashes. The spirited resistance
made by the militia at this place is
attested by the apology made by Gen
eral Tryon for the wanton destruction
of private property which disgraced his
conduct. " The village was burnt," he
says, "to resent the fire of the rebels
from their houses, and to mask our re
treat." From Fairfield, the fleet crossed the
Sound to Huntington Bay, where it re
mained until the eleventh, when it re-
crossed that water. The troops were
landed in the night on a peninsula on
the east side of the Bay of Norwalk.
About the same tune a much larger de
tachment from the British army direct
ed its course towards Horse Neck, and
made demonstrations of a design to pen
etrate into the country in that direction.
On the first intelligence that Con
necticut was invaded, General Parsons,
a native of that State, had been directed
by Washington to hasten to the scene
of action. Placing himself at the head
of about one hundred and fifty conti
nental troops, who were supported by
considerable bodies of militia, he at
tacked the British on the morning of
the twelfth, as soon as they were in mo
tion, and kept up an irregular distant
fire throughout the day. But being too
weak to prevent the destruction of any

fe'K« V;.

PAI'JTED BY C HAPPt

KCHrVi: 0 L'Y ,

Chap. XVII.]

OPERATIONS IN TPIE NORTHERN STATES.

89

particular town on the coast, Norwalk
was reduced to ashes ; after which the
British re-embarked, and returned to
Huntington Bay, there to await for
reinforcements. At this place, how
ever, Tryon received orders to return
to Whitestone, where, in a conference
between Clinton and Sir George Collier,
it was determined to proceed against
New London with an increased force.
On the invasion of Connecticut, Wash
ington was prompt in his exertions to
send continental troops from the near
est encampments to its aid ; but before
they could afford any real service, Clin
ton found it necessary to recall Tryon
to the Hudson.
Washington had planned an enter
prise against the posts at King's Ferry,
comprehending a double attack, to be
made at the same time, on both. But
the difficulty of a perfect co-operation
of detachments, incapable of communi
cating with each other, determined him
to postpone the attack on Verplanck's,
and to make that part of the plan de
pendent on the success of the first. His
whole attention, therefore, was turned
to Stony Point, and the troops destined
for this critical service proceeded on it
as against a single object.
The execution of the plan was in
trusted by Washington to General
Wayne, who commanded the light in
fantry of the army. His daring cour
age had long since obtained for him the
sobriquet of " Mad Anthony." He ac
cepted the command with alacrity. Se
crecy was deemed so much more essen

tial to success than numbers, that no
addition was made to the force already
on the lines. One brigade was ordered
to commence its march, so as to reach
the scene of action in time to cover the
troops engaged in the attack, should
any unlooked-for disaster befall them ;
and Major Henry Lee, of the light dra
goons, who had been eminently useful
in obtaining the intelligence which led
to the enterprise, was associated with
Wayne, as far as cavalry could be em
ployed in such a service. The night of
the fifteenth, and the hour of twelve,
were chosen for the assault.
Stony Point is a commanding hill,
projecting far into the Hudson, which
washes three-fourths of its base. The
remaining fourth was in a great meas
ure covered by a deep marsh, commen
cing near the river on the upper side,
and continuing into it below. Over
this marsh there was only one crossing
place ; but at its junction with the river
was a sandy beach, passable at low tide.
On the summit of this hill stood the
fort, which was furnished with heavy
ordnance. Several breast-works and
strong batteries were advanced in front
of the main work, and about half way
down the hill were two rows of abattis.
The batteries were calculated to com
mand the beach and the crossing-place
of the marsh, and to rake and enfilade
any column which might be advancing
from either of those points towards the
fort. In addition to these defences, sev
eral vessels of war were stationed in the
river, and commanded the ground at

90

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

the foot of the hill. The garrison con
sisted of about six hundred men, com
manded by Colonel Johnson.
Wayne arrived about eight in the
afternoon at Springsteel's, one and a
half mile from the fort, and made his
dispositions for the assault.
It was intended to attack the works
on the right and left flanks at the same
instant. The regiments of Febiger and
of Meigs, with Major Hull's detachment,
formed the right column ; and Butler's
regiment, with two companies under
Major Murfree, formed the left. One
hundred and fifty volunteers, led by
Lieutenant-colonel Fleury and Major
Posey, constituted the van of the right ;
and one hundred volunteers, under Ma
jor Stewart, composed the van of the
left. At half past eleven the two col
umns moved to the assault, the van of
each with unloaded muskets and fixed
bayonets. They were each preceded
by a forlorn hope of twenty men, the
one commanded by Lieutenant Gibbon,
and the other by Lieutenant Knox.
They reached the marsh undiscovered,
and at twenty minutes after twelve
commenced the assault.
Both columns rushed forward under
a tremendous fire of grape-shot and
musketry. Surmounting every obsta
cle, they entered the works at the point
of the bayonet, and, without discharging
a single musket, obtained possession of
the fort.-
The humanity displayed by the con
querors was not less conspicuous nor
less honorable than their courage. Not

an individual suffered after resistance
had ceased.
All the troops engaged in this per
ilous service manifested a degree of ar
dor and impetuosity which proved them
to be capable of the most difficult enter
prises ; and all distinguished themselves,
whose situation enabled them to do so.
Colonel Fleury, who had distinguished
himself in defence of the forts on the
Delaware in 1777, was the first to enter
the fort and strike the British standard.
Major Posey mounted the works almost
at the same instant, and was the first to
give the watch-word, " The fort's our
own." Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox
performed the service allotted to them
with a degree of intrepidity which could
not be surpassed. Of twenty men who
constituted the party of the former,
seventeen were killed or wounded.*
Sixty-three of the garrison were kill
ed, including two officers. The pris
oners amounted to five hundred and
forty-three, among whom were one lieu
tenant-colonel, four captains, and twenty
subaltern officers. The military stores
taken in the fort were considerable.
The loss sustained by the assailants
was not proportioned to the apparent
danger of the enterprise. The killed
and wounded did not exceed one hun
dred men. Wayne, who marched with
Febiger's regiment in the right column,
received a wound in the head which

<* For their bravery and good conduct at Stony Point,
Wayne received a gold, and Stewart and Fleury silver
medals, with the thanks of Congress. A separate medal
was designed and struck for each of them.

Chap. XVII]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATES.

91

stunned him. Recovering conscious
ness, but believing the wound to be
mortal, he said to his aids, " Carry me
into the fort, and let me die at the head
of my column." Being supported by
his aids, he entered the fort with the
regiment. Lieutenant-colonel Hay was
also among the wounded.
Although the design upon Fort Fa
yette had yielded to the desire of se
curing the success of the attack on Stony
Point, it had not been abandoned. Two
brigades under General M'Dougal had
been ordered to approach the works on
Verplanck's, in which Colonel Webster
commanded, and be in readiness to at
tack them the instant Wayne should
obtain possession of Stony Point. That
this detachment might not permit the
favorable moment to pass unimproved,
Wayne had been requested to direct the
messenger who should convey the intel
ligence of his success to Washington to
pass through M'Dougal's camp, and give
him advice of that event. He was also
requested to turn the cannon of the fort
against Verplanck's and the vessels in the
river. The last orders were executed,
and a heavy cannonade was opened on
Fort Fayette, and on the vessels, which
compelled them to fall down the river.
Through some misconception, never ex
plained, the messenger dispatched by
Wayne did not call on M'Dougal, but
proceeded directly to head-quarters.
Thus, every advantage expected from
the first impression made. by the cap
ture of Stony Point was lost ; and the
garrison had full leisure to recover from

the surprise occasioned by that event,
and to prepare for an attack. This
change of circumstances made it neces
sary to change the plan of operation.
Washington ordered General Howe to
take the command of M'Dougal's detach
ment, to which some pieces of heavy
artillery were to be annexed. He
was directed, after effecting a breach in
the walls, to make the dispositions for
an assault, and to demand a surrender,
but not to attempt a storm until it
should be dark. To these orders, ex
plicit instructions were added not to
hazard his party by remaining before
Verplanck's after the British should
cross Croton River in force.
Through some unaccountable negli
gence in the persons charged with the
execution of these orders, the batter
ing artillery was not accompanied with
suitable ammunition, and the necessary
intrenching tools were not brought.
These omissions were supplied the next
day ; but it was then too late to pro
ceed against Verplanck's.
On receiving intelligence of the loss
of Stony Point, and of the danger to
which the garrison of Fort Fayette was
exposed, Sir Henry Clinton relinquished
his views on Connecticut, and made a
forced march to Dobb's Ferry. Some
troops were immediately embarked to
pass up the river, and a light corps was
pushed forward to the Croton. This
movement relieved Fort Fayette.
The failure of the attempt to obtain
possession of Verplanck's Point, leaving
that road of communication still closed,

92

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book P7.

diminished the advantages which had
been expected to result from the enter
prise so much, that it was deemed un-
advisable to maintain Stony Point. On
reconnoitering the ground, Washington
believed that the place could not be
rendered secure with a garrison of less
than fifteen hundred men, — a, number
which could not be spared from the
army without weakening it too much
for further operations. He determined,
therefore, to evacuate Stony Point, and
retire to the Highlands. As soon as
this resolution was executed, Clinton re
possessed himself of that post, repaired
the fortifications, and placed a stronger
garrison in it ; after which he resumed
his former situation at Philipsburg.
The two armies watched each other
for some time. At length, Clinton,
finding himself unable to attack Wash
ington in the strong position he had
taken, or to draw him from it, and be
ing desirous of transferring the theatre
of active war to the South, withdrew to
New York, and was understood to be
strengthening the fortifications erected
for its defence, as preparatory to the
large detachments he intended making
to reinforce the southern army.
Although this movement was made
principally with a view to southern op
erations, it was in some degree hastened
by the opinion that New York required
immediate additional protection during
the absence of the fleet, which was about
to sail for the relief of Penobscot.
Scarcely had Sir George Collier, who
had accompanied Clinton up the Hud

son to take possession of Stony Point,
returned to New York, when he was
informed that a fleet of armed vessels,
with transports and troops, had sailed
from Boston to attack a post which
General M'Lean was establishing at Pe
nobscot, in the eastern part of the prov
ince of Massachusetts Bay. He imme
diately got ready for sea that part of
the naval force which was at New York,
and on the third of August sailed to
relieve the garrison of Penobscot.
In the month of June, General M'Lean,
who commanded the royal troops in
Nova Scotia, arrived in the bay of Pe
nobscot with nearly seven hundred men,
in order to establish a post, which might
at once be a means of checking the in
cursions of the Americans into Nova Sco
tia, and of supplying the royal yards at
Halifax with ship-timber, which abound
ed in that part of the country. This
establishment alarmed the government
of Massachusetts Bay, which resolved
to dislodge M'Lean, and, with great
promptitude, equipped a fleet and rais
ed troops for that purpose. The fleet,
which consisted of fifteen vessels of war,
carrying from thirty-two to twelve guns
each, with transports, was commanded
by Commodore Saltonstall ; the army,
amounting to between three and four
thousand militia, was under the orders
of General Lovell.
General M'Lean chose for his post a
peninsula on the east side of Penobscot
Bay, which is about seven leagues wide
and seventeen deep, terminating at the
point where the river Penobscot flows

Chap. XVn.]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATES.

93

into it. M'Lean's station was nine miles
from the bottom of the bay. As that
part of the country was then an unbro
ken forest, he cleared away the wood
on the peninsula and began to construct
a fort, in which he was assisted and pro
tected by the crews of three sloops-of-
war which had escorted him thither.
M'Lean heard of the expedition against
him on the 21st of July, when he had
made little progress in the erection of
his fort. On the 25th the American
fleet appeared in the bay ; but, owing
to the opposition of the British sloops-
of-war, and to the bold and rugged
nature of the shore, the troops did not
effect a landing until the 28th. This
interval M'Lean improved with such
laborious diligence, that his fortifica
tions were in a state of considerable
forwardness. Lovell erected a battery
within seven hundred and fifty yards of
the works ; and for nearly a fortnight
a brisk cannonade was kept up, and
preparations were made to assault the
fort. But, on the 13th of August, Lov
ell was informed that Sir George Col
lier, with a superior naval force, had
entered the bay ; therefore in the night
he silently embarked his troops and
cannon, unperceived by the garrison,
which was every moment in expecta
tion of being assaulted.
On the approach of the British fleet,
the Americans, after some show of prep
aration for resistance, betook themselves
to flight. A general pursuit and unre
sisted destruction ensued. The Warren,
a fine new frigate of thirty-two guns,
Vol. II.— 13

and fourteen other vessels of inferior
force, were either blown up or taken.
The transports fled in confusion, and,
after having landed the troops in a wild
and uncultivated part of the country,
were burnt. The men, destitute of pro
visions and other necessaries, had to
explore their way for more than one
hundred miles through an uninhabited
and pathless wilderness, and many of
them perished before reaching the set
tled country. After this successful ex
ploit, Sir George Collier returned to
New York, where he resigned the com
mand of the fleet to Admiral Arbuth-
not, who had arrived from England
with some ships of war, and with pro
visions, stores, and reinforcements for
the army.
On descending the river, after repla
cing the garrison of Stony Point, Sir
Henry Clinton encamped above Har
lem, with his upper posts at Kings-
bridge. Washington remained in his
strong position in the Highlands, but
frequently detached numerous parties
on both sides of the river, in order to
check the British foragers, and to re
strain the intercourse with the loyalists.
Major Lee ("Light-horse Harry"), who
commanded one of those parties, planned
a bold and hazardous enterprise against
the British post at Paulus Hook, on the
Jersey bank of the river, opposite New
York. That post was strongly forti
fied and of difficult access, and there
fore the garrison thought themselves
secure. But Lee determined to make
an attempt on the place, and chose the

94

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ITT9.

morning of the 20th of August for his
enterprise, when part of the garrison
was absent on a foraging excursion.
Advancing silently at the head of three
hundred men, the sentinel at
the gate mistook his party for
that which had marched out the pre
ceding day, and allowed them to pass
unchallenged ; and, almost in an instant,
they seized the blockhouse and two
redoubts before the alarm was given.
Major Sutherland, commandant of the
post, with sixty Hessians, entered a re
doubt, and began a brisk fire on the
assailants. This gave an extensive no
tice of the attack, and the firing of guns
in New York, and by the shipping in
the roads, proved that the alarm was
widely spread. In order, therefore, not
to hazard the loss of his party, Lee re
treated, with the loss of two men killed
and three wounded, carrying along with
him about one hundred and fifty pris
oners. Notwithstanding the difficulties
and dangers which he had to encounter,
he effected his retreat. It was not his
design to keep possession of the place,
but to carry off the garrison, reflect
credit on the American arms, and en
courage a spirit of enterprise in the
army.* The expedition planned by Washing
ton for chastising the Indians who had
committed such atrocities last year on
the frontier, and particularly at Wyo
ming, was the most important of this
campaign. Washington intrusted the
* Lee, for this exploit at Paulus Hook, was presented
with a gold medal by Congress.

command of it to General Sullivan.
The largest division of the army em
ployed on that service assembled at
Wyoming. Another division, which had
wintered on the Mohawk, marched un
der the orders of General James Clinton,
and joined the main body at the conflu
ence of the two great sources of the
Susquehannah. On the 22d of August,
the united force, amounting to nearly
five thousand men, under the command
of General Sullivan, proceeded up the
Cayuga, or western branch of the last-
named river, which led directly into the
Indian country. The preparations for
this expedition did not escape the notice
of those against whom it was directed,
and the Indians seem fully to have pen
etrated Sullivan's plan of operation.
Formidable as his force was, they de
termined to meet him, and try the for
tune of a battle. They were about one
thousand strong, commanded by the
two Butlers, Guy Johnson, M'Donald,
and Brandt. They chose their ground
with judgment, and fortified their camp
at some distance above Chemung, and
within a mile of Newtown.
There Sullivan attacked them, and
after a short but spirited resistance,
they retreated with precipitation. The
Americans had thirty men killed or
wounded : the Indians left only eleven
dead bodies on the field ; but they were
so discouraged by this defeat, that they
abandoned their villages and fields to
the unresisted ravages of the victor,
who laid waste their towns and or
chards, so that they might have no

Chap. XVH.]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATES.

95

inducement again to settle so near the
settlements of the whites;
The severity of this proceeding has
been censured by some writers, but it
requires no apology. Nothing could
convince the savages of the injustice
and inhumanity of their usual system
of warfare on the frontier so effectually
as to give them a specimen of it, even
in a milder form, in their own country.
Sullivan desolated their villages and
farms, but we do not learn that he took
any scalps, or murdered any women or
children, or tortured any of his prison
ers. The measure of retaliation which
he dealt to the miscreants who sacked
Wyoming was gentleness and humanity
when compared with their proceedings.
It is only to be regretted that his re
taliation could not have been applied
to the homes of the British and tories
who assisted the Indians at Wyoming.
Sullivan and his army received a
vote of thanks from Congress ; but the
general's health failing, he soon resigned
his commission and retired from the
service. Sullivan's orders from Washington
exculpate him from all blame as to the
mode of punishing the Indians. " Of the
expedition," Washington says, in writing
to him, " the immediate objects are the
total destruction and devastation of
their settlements, and the capture of as
many prisoners of every age and sex as
possible." Washington knew that this
kind of warfare was the only possible
means of putting an end to Indian wars.
Any other mode of proceeding, he was

fully aware, was treachery and cruelty
to his own countrymen.
A few days after the surprise of Pau
lus Hook by Major Lee, the long ex
pected fleet from Europe, under the
command of Admiral Arbuthnot, hav
ing on board a reinforcement for the
British army, arrived at New York.
This reinforcement, however, did not
enable Clinton to enter immediately on
that active course of offensive opera
tions which he had meditated. It was
soon followed by the Count D'Estaing,
who arrived on the southern coast of
America with a powerful fleet, after
which Clinton deemed it necessary to
turn all his attention to his own secu
rity. Rhode Island and the posts up
the North River were evacuated, and
the whole army was collected in New
York, the fortifications of which were
carried on with unremitting industry.
The Count D'Estaing and Admiral
Byron, having sailed about the same
time from the coast of North America,
met in the West Indies, where the war
was carried on with various success.
St. Lucia surrendered to the British, in
compensation for which the French took
St. Vincent's and Grenada. About the
time of the capture of the latter isl
and, D'Estaing received reinforcements,
which gave him a decided naval supe
riority ; after which a battle was fought
between the two hostile fleets, in which
the count claimed the victory, and in
which so many of the British ships were
disabled that the admiral was compelled
to retire into port in order to refit.

96

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book rv.

ni9.

Early in May, Sir Henry Clinton had
dispatched from New York a squadron
under Sir George Collier, with twenty-
five hundred troops under Gen
eral Mathews, who entered Ches
apeake Bay, and, after taking possession
of Portsmouth, sent out parties of sol
diers to Norfolk, Suffolk, Gosport, and
other places in the neighborhood, where
there were large deposits of provisions
and military and naval stores, and many
merchant vessels, some on the stocks,
and some laden with valuable cargoes.
These were all burnt, and the whole
neighborhood subjected to plunder and
devastation. This was a severe blow
to the commerce, on which Congress
placed great dependence for supplies to
the army, and for sustaining its own
credit. In compliance with the solicitations
of General Lincoln and the authorities
of South Carolina, D'Estaing directed
his course to the coast of Georgia with
twenty-two ships of the line and eleven
frigates, having on board six thousand
soldiers, and arrived so suddenly on the
southern coast of America, that the
Experiment, of fifty guns, and three
frigates, fell into his hands. A vessel
was sent to Charleston with informa
tion of his arrival, and a plan was con
certed for the siege of Savannah.
General Lincoln, who, after the fall
of Savannah, had been sent to Charles
ton to take command of the southern
department of the army, was to co-op
erate with D'Estaing's fleet and army
in the siege. Instead of assaulting the

place at the earliest practicable mo
ment, they granted Prevost, the British
commander at Savannah, an armistice
of twenty-four hours, during which he
received reinforcements, and set them
at defiance. They then commenced a
siege by regular approaches on land,
and cannonade and bombardment from
D'Estaing's formidable fleet in the har
bor. This lasted for three weeks.
On the 9th of October, without hav
ing effected a sufficient breach, the uni
ted French and American forces stormed
the works. Great gallantry was dis
played by the assailants. The French
and American standards were both
planted on the redoubts. But it was
all in vain. They were completely re
pulsed, the French losing seven hundred
and the Americans three hundred and
forty men. Count Pulaski was among
the slain.
The loss of the garrison was aston
ishingly small. In killed and wounded,
it amounted only to fifty-five, — so great
was the advantage of the cover afforded
by their works.
After this repulse, the Count D'Es
taing announced to General Lincoln his
determination to raise the siege. The
remonstrances of that officer were un
availing, and the removal of the heavy
ordnance and stores was commenced.
This being accomplished, both armies
moved from their ground on the even
ing of the 18th of October. The Amer
icans, recrossing the Savannah at Zub-
ly's Ferry, again encamped in South
Carolina, and the French re-embarked.

Chap. XVH.]

OPERATIONS IN THE NORTHERN STATES.

97

D'Estaing himself sailed with a part of
his fleet for France ; the rest proceeded
to the West Indies.
Although the issue of this enterprise
was the source of severe chagrin and
mortification, the prudence of General
Lincoln suppressed every appearance of
dissatisfaction, and the armies separa
ted with manifestations of reciprocal
esteem. The hopes which had brought the
militia into the field being disappointed,
they dispersed, and the affairs of the
Southern States wore a more gloomy
aspect than at any former period.
During the siege of Savannah, an in
genious enterprise of partisan warfare
was executed by Colonel White of the
Georgia line. Before the arrival of the
French fleet in the Savannah, a British
captain, with one hundred and eleven
men, had taken post near the river
Ogeeche, twenty-five miles from Savan
nah. At the same place were five Brit
ish vessels, four of which were armed,
the largest with fourteen guns, the least
with four ; and the vessels were manned
with forty sailors. Late at night, on
the 30th of September, White, who had
only six volunteers, including his own
servant, kindled a number of fires in
different places, so as to exhibit the ap
pearance of a considerable encampment,
practised several other corresponding
artifices, and then summoned the cap
tain instantly to surrender. That offi
cer, believing that he was about to be
attacked by a superior force, and that
nothing but immediate submission could

save him and his men from destruction,
made no defence. The stratagem was
carried on with so much address, that
the prisoners, amounting to one hun
dred and forty-one, were secured, and
conducted to the American post at Sun
bury, twenty-five miles distant.
On receiving intelligence of the situa
tion of Lincoln, Congress passed a reso
lution requesting Washington to order
the North Carolina troops, and such
others as could be spared from the
northern army, to the aid of that in the
South, and assuring the States of South
Carolina and Georgia of the attention
of government to their preservation ;
but requesting them, for their own de
fence, to comply with the recommen
dations formerly made respecting the
completion of their continental regi
ments, and the government of their
militia while in actual service.
Washington had already received
(November, 1779) intelligence of the
disastrous result of D'Estaing and Lin
coln's attack on Savannah, and had
formed his plans of operation before
Congress sent assurances of aid. to the
South. Giving up all expectation of
co-operation from the French fleet, he
disbanded the New York and Massa
chusetts militia, and made his arrange
ments for the winter. He ordered one
division of the army, under General
Heath, to the Highlands, to protect
West Point and the posts in that neigh
borhood ; and with the other division
he went into winter-quarters near Mor-
ristown, the army being quartered in

98

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

huts, as at Valley Forge. The cavalry
were sent to Connecticut.
Washington had already penetrated
the design of the enemy to make the
Southern States their principal field of
operation ; and accordingly he dispatch
ed to Charleston the North Carolina
brigade in November, and the whole of
the Virginia line in December.
On the other hand, Clinton and Corn
wallis embarked with a large force in
transports, convoyed by Admiral Ar-
buthnot with a fleet of five ships of the
line and several frigates, and sailed on
the 26th of December, 1779, for Savan
nah. Knyphausen was left in command
of the garrison of New York.*
Washington's own summary of the
operations of this campaign (1779) is
0 Irving.

contained in a letter to Lafayette in the
following terms :
"The operations of the enemy this
campaign have been confined to the es
tablishment of works of defence, taking
a post at King's Ferry, and burning the
defenceless towns of New Haven, Fair
field, and Norwalk, on the Sound, within
reach of their shipping, where little else
was, or could be opposed to them, than
the cries of distressed women and chil
dren ; but these were offered in vain.
Since these notable exploits, they have
never stepped out of their works or
beyond their lines. How a conduct of
this kind is to effect the conquest of
America, the wisdom of a North, a Ger-
maine, or a Sandwich can best decide.
It is too deep and refined for the com
prehension of common understandings,
and the general run of politicians."

CHAPTER XVIII

1780.

CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH. — ARNOLD'S TREASON.

Washington in winter-quarters at Morristown. — State of the finances and of the army. — Vacillating conduct of Con
gress.— Washington obliged to make requisitions of the State of New Jersey.— Severe frost.— New York harbor
frozen. — Washington unable to attack it. — He detaches Lord Stirling to attack the British at Staten Island. — Stir
ling repulsed. — Distress in New York. — Partisan warfare.— Skirmish near White Plains.— Remarks on Congress. —
The continental money. — Its depreciation. — Congress calls on the States for supplies. — Bad effects of the system.
— Discontent of" the army. — Mutiny of the Connecticut troops. — Knyphausen marches into Jersey. — Is disap
pointed.— He burns Connecticut Farms.— Murder of Mrs. Caldwell. — Washington marches to Short Hills.—
Knyphausen retires. — Clinton returns from South Carolina. — His force. — He advances towards Springfield. —
Greene advances to meet him.— Battle of Springfield.— Springfield burnt by the British.— They retreat to Eliza-
bethtown, and thence to Staten Island.— Expedition of Wayne to Bergen Neck.— Lafayette's exertions in France.
—He gains succors for the United States.— He arrives at Boston, and visits Washington and Congress.— Washing
ton's embarrassment at his want of men and munitions of war to act effectively with the French. — National
Bank.— Patriotism of the ladies.— Washington's letter to Congress on the destitution of the army.— Patriotism
of the soldiers. — Washington's letter to Congress on the necessity of a settled plan of operations. — Arrival of the
French fleet and army. — Admiral Graves arrives with a reinforcement to the British fleet in New York. — Clinton
embarks to attack the French in Rhode Island. — Washington orders out the militia of Massachusetts and Con
necticut, and advances towards New York.— Clinton returns to New York.— Washington holds a conference with
the French commanders at Hartford. — Enforced inaction of the armies on both sides.— Washington's chagrin at
the ineffective campaign. — Arnold's character and services. — His misconduct at Philadelphia.— Charges brought
against him. — Tried and condemned. — Reprimanded by Washington. — Appointed to the command at West Point.
— Corresponds with Clinton. — Major Andre goes to him. — Treason concocted and completed.— Andre captured,
tried, and hung as a spy. — Arnold rewarded for his treason by Clinton. — Washington's remarks on his character.
— Washington recognizes the hand of Providence in the discovery of Arnold's treason.

During the winter which followed
the campaign of 1779, Washington, with
his army hutted on the heights of Mor
ristown, was beset by pressing and for
midable difficulties. The finances of
Congress were in a most depressed con
dition, and the urgent wants of the
army were but ill supplied. The evils
of short enlistment, though distinctly
understood and strongly felt, could not
be remedied: and the places of those

men who were leaving the army, on
the expiration of their stipulated term
of service, could not easily be filled up.
Besides, the troops were in danger of
perishing by cold and famine. During
the preceding year, General Greene and
Colonel Wadsworth* had been at the
head of the quarter-master and commis
sary departments, and notwithstanding
° See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

100

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

their utmost exertions, the wants of the
army had been ill supplied. After
being put into winter-quarters, it was
in great danger of being dissolved by
want of provisions, or of perishing
through famine. The colonial paper
money was in a state of great and in
creasing depreciation ; and, in order
to check the alarming evil, Congress,
which, like other popular assemblies,
had in it no small share of ignorance
and self-sufficiency, resolved to diminish
the circulation and keep up the value
of their paper currency by withholding
the necessary supplies from the public
agents. This foolish resolution threat
ened the ruin of the army. Nobody
was willing to make contracts with the
public, and some of those entered into
were not fulfilled.
Congress, jealous of the public agents,
because ignorant of what was really ne
cessary, repeatedly changed the form
of its engagements with them ; and
at length, by its fluctuating policy,
real wants, and imprudent parsimony,
brought matters to such extremities,
that Washington was compelled to re
quire the several counties of the State
of New Jersey to furnish his army with
certain quantities of provisions within
six days, in order to prevent them from
being taken by force. Although the
province was much exhausted, yet the
people instantly complied with the re
quisition, and furnished a temporary
supply to the army.*
a While Washington was in winter-quarters at Mor
ristown, he requested Congress to send a committee to

Soon after Clinton sailed on his ex
pedition against Charleston, a frost of
unexampled intensity began. The Hud
son, East River, and all the waters
around New York, were so completely
frozen, that an army, with its artillery
and wagons, might have crossed them
in all directions with perfect safety.
New York lost all the advantages of its
insular situation, and became easily ac
cessible on every side. The city was
fortified by the British ; but, on account
of its insular situation, several parts,
being considered of difficult access, were
left undefended. By the strength of the
ice, however, every point became ex
posed ; and in that unforeseen emergen
cy, Knyphausen, who commanded in the
city with a garrison often thousand men,
took every prudent precaution for his
defence, and fortified every vulnerable
part : but the inefficiency of the Ameri
can army was his best security. Wash
ington easily perceived the advantages
which the extraordinary frost gave him,
but, from the destitute state of his ar
my, he was unable to avail himself of
them. The army under his immediate
command was inferior in number to the
garrison of New York ; it was also ill
clad, scantily supplied with provisions,
the camp, as had been previously done at Valley Forge,
for the purpose of giving effect to the arrangements for
the ensuing campaign, and drawing more expeditiously
from the States their respective quotas of soldiers and
supplies. General Schuyler, who had retired from the
army and was then in Congress, was a member of this
committee. He rendered essential service at this time
by his judgment and experience. The committee re
mained in camp between two and three months.
See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. XVHL]

CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH.

101

1T80.

and in no condition to undertake offen
sive operations.
The British had a post on Staten
Island, and as the ice opened a free
communication between the island and
the New Jersey coast, Washington, not
withstanding the enfeebled condition of
his army, resolved to attack the garrison,
and appointed Lord Stirling to conduct
the enterprise. The night of the
14th of January was chosen for
the attempt ; but, though the Ameri
cans used every precaution, the officer
commanding on Staten Island discov
ered their intention, and took effectual
measures to defeat it. The attack was
repulsed, but little loss was sustained
Dn either side.
The extreme cold occasioned much
suffering in New York, by want of pro
visions and fuel ; for as the communi
cation by water was entirely stopped,
the usual supplies were cut off. The
demand for fuel in particular was so
pressing, that it was found expedient
to break up some old transports, and to
pull down some uninhabited wooden
houses, for the purpose of procuring
that necessary article. As the British
paid in ready money for provisions or
firewood carried within the lines, many
of the country people, tempted by the
precious metals, so rare among them,
tried to supply the garrison. The en
deavors of the British to encourage and
protect this intercourse, and the exer
tions of the Americans to prevent it,
brought on a sort of partisan warfare,
in which the former most frequently
Vol. H.— 14

1T80.

had the advantage. In one of the most
important of those rencounters, early in
February, near White Plains, a captain
and fourteen men of a Massa
chusetts regiment were killed
on the spot, seventeen were wounded,
and ninety, with Colonel Thompson, the
officer who commanded the party, were
made prisoners. Washington, writing
to General Heath respecting this affair,
says: "It is some consolation that our
officers and men appear to have made
a brave resistance. I cannot help sus
pecting that our officers in advance
quarter too long in a place. By these
means the enemy, by their emissaries,
gain a perfect knowledge of their can
tonments, and form their attacks ac
cordingly. Were they to shift con
stantly, the enemy could scarcely ever
attain this knowledge."
Congress found itself placed in very
difficult circumstances. It always con
tained a number of men of talents, and
manifested no small share of vigor and
activity. Many of the members were
skilful in the management of their pri
vate affairs ; and, having been success
ful in the world, thought themselves
competent to direct the most important
national concerns, although unacquaint
ed with the principles of finance, legis
lation, or war. Animated by that blind
presumption which generally character
izes popular assemblies, they often en
tered into resolutions which discovered
little practical wisdom. In pecuniary
matters they were dilatory, and never
anticipated trying emergencies, or made

102

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book I v ,

provision for probable events, till they
were overtaken by some urgent neces
sity. Hence they were frequently de
liberating about levying troops and
supplying the army when the troops
ought to have been in the field, and
the army fully equipped for active ser
vice. This often placed Washington in
the most trying and perilous circum
stances. Congress had solemnly resolved not
to exceed two hundred millions of dol
lars in continental bills of credit. In
November, 1779, the whole of that sum
was issued, and expended also. The
demand on the States to replenish the
treasury by taxes had not been fully
complied with, and even although it
had been completely answered, would
not have furnished a sum adequate to
the expenses of government. Instead
of maturely considering and digesting a
plan, adhering to it, and improving it
by experience, Congress often changed
its measures ; and, even in the midst of
those distresses which had brought the
army to the verge of dissolution, was
busy in devising new and untried expe
dients for supporting it. As the treas
ury was empty, and money could not
be raised, Congress, on the 25th of Feb
ruary, resolved to call on the several
States for their proportion of provis
ions, spirits, and forage for the mainte
nance of the army during the ensuing
campaign, but specified no time within
which these were to be collected, and
consequently the States were in no haste
in the matter. In order to encourage

and facilitate compliance with this re
quisition, it was further resolved, that
any State which should have taken the
necessary measures for furnishing its
quota, and given notice thereof to Con
gress, should be authorized to prohibit
any continental quarter-master or com
missary from purchasing within its
limits. Every man who had a practical
knowledge of the subject easily per
ceived the defective nature and danger
ous tendency of this arrangement. It
was an attempt to carry on the war
rather by separate provincial efforts
than by a combination of national
strength ; and if the army received
from any State where it was acting the
appointed quantity of necessaries, it had
no right, though starving, to purchase
what it stood in need of. Besides, the
carriage of provisions from distant parts
was troublesome, expensive, and some
times impracticable.
The troops were ill clothed, their pay
was in arrear, and that of the officers,
owing to the great depreciation of the
paper currency, was wholly unequal to
their decent maintenance. These mul
tiplied privations and sufferings soured
the temper of the men, and it required
all the influence of Washington to pre
vent many of the officers from resigning
their commissions. The long continu
ance of want and hardship produced
relaxation of discipline, which at length
manifested itself in open mutiny. On
the 25th of May, two regiments belong
ing to Connecticut paraded under arms,

Chap. XVHI.]

CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH.

103

1T80.

with the avowed intention of returning
home, or of obtaining subsistence at the
point of the bayonet. The rest of the
soldiers, though they did not join in
the mutiny, showed little disposition to
suppress it. At length the two regi
ments were brought back to their duty,
but much murmuring and many com
plaints were heard. While the army
was in such want, the inhabitants of
New Jersey, where most of the troops
were stationed, were unavoidably har
assed by frequent requisitions, which
excited considerable discontent.
Reports of the mutinous state of the
American army, and of the dissatisfac
tion of the people of New Jersey, prob
ably much exaggerated, were
carried to General Knyphausen,
who, believing the American soldiers
ready to desert their standards, and
the inhabitants of New Jersey willing
to abandon the Union, on the 6th of
June passed from Staten Island to Eliz-
abethtown, in Jersey, with five thousand
men. That movement was intended to
encourage the mutinous disposition of
the American troops, and to fan the
flame of discontent among the inhabit
ants of the province. Early next morn
ing he marched into the country tow
ards Springfield by the way of Connect
icut Farms, a flourishing plantation, so
named because the cultivators had come
from Connecticut. But even before
reaching that place, which was only
five or six miles from Elizabethtown,
the British perceived that the reports
which they had received concerning the

discontent of the Americans were incor
rect ; for on the first alarm the militia
assembled with great alacrity, and, aid
ed by some small parties of regular
troops, annoyed the British by an irreg
ular but galling fire of musketry, wher
ever the nature of the ground presented
a favorable opportunity : and although
those parties were nowhere strong
enough to make a stand, yet they gave
plain indications of the temper and res
olution which were to be encountered
in advancing into the country.
At Connecticut Farms the British
detachment halted. The settlers were
known to be zealous in the American
cause, and therefore, with a little spirit
of revenge, the British, among whom
was General Tryon, laid the flourishing
village, with its church and the minis
ter's house, in ashes. Here occurred
one of those affecting incidents, which,
being somewhat out of the ordinary
course of the miseries of war, make a
deep impression on the public mind.
Mr. Caldwell, minister of the place, had
withdrawn towards Springfield, but had
left his wife and family behind, believ
ing them to be in no danger. The
British advanced to the industrious and
peaceful village. Mrs. Caldwell, trust
ing to her sex for safety, and unsuspi
cious of harm, was sitting in her house
with her children around her, when a
soldier came up, levelled his musket at
the window, and shot her dead on the
spot in the midst of her terrified fam
ily. On the intercession of a friend,
the dead body was permitted to be

104

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

removed, when the house was set on
fire. This atrocious deed excited such gen
eral horror and detestation that the
British thought proper to disavow it,
and to impute the death of Mrs. Cald
well to a random shot from the retreat
ing militia, though the militia did not
fire a musket in the village. The wan
ton murder of the lady might be the
unauthorized act of a savage individual,
but can the burning of the house after
her death be accounted for in the same
way ? Knyphausen was a veteran offi
cer, and cannot be supposed capable of
entering into local animosities, or of
countenancing such brutality ; but Try-
on was present, and his conduct on other
occasions was not unblemished.
Mr. Caldwell had rendered himself
particularly obnoxious to the enemy,
and was cordially hated by Tryon for
his zealous devotion to the patriotic
cause. He had served as a chaplain
in the army, was exceedingly popular
among the patriots of New Jersey, had
given up his church to be used as a
hospital, and had exerted himself by
eloquent appeals to arouse his country
men to unflinching resistance against
the enemy. For this, Tryon caused his
church to be burnt, and did not prevent
the soldiers from shooting his wife.
After destroying the Connecticut
Farms, Knyphausen advanced towards
Springfield, where the Jersey brigade,
under General Maxwell, and a large
body of militia, had taken an advanta
geous position, and seemed resolved to

defend it. General Knyphausen, how
ever, had met with a reception so dif
ferent from what he expected, that,
without making any attempt on the
American post, he withdrew during the
night to Elizabeth town.
On being informed of the invasion of
New Jersey, Washington put his army
in motion early on the morning of the
day in which Knyphausen inarched
from Elizabethtown, and proceeded to
the Short Hills, behind Springfield,
while the British were in the vicinity
of that place. Feeble as his army was,
he made the necessary dispositions for
fighting, but the unexpected retreat of
Knyphausen rendered a battle unneces
sary. The British were followed by an
American detachment, which attacked
their rear-guard next morning, but was
repulsed. Instead of returning to New
York, Knyphausen lingered in the vi
cinity of Elizabethtown and on Staten
Island ; and Washington, unwilling,
with his inadequate force, to hazard an
engagement, except on advantageous
ground, remained on the hills near
Springfield, to watch the movements
of the British army. At that time, the
army under the immediate orders of
Washington did not exceed four thou
sand effective men.
On the 18th of June, Sir Henry Clin
ton returned from South Carolina with
about four thousand men ; and after
receiving this reinforcement, the British
force in New York and its dependen
cies amounted to twelve thousand ef
fective and regular troops, most of

Chap. XVIH.]

CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH.

105

whom could be brought into the field
for any particular service : besides these,
the British commander had about four
thousand militia and refugees for garri
son duty. The British army directed
on any one point would have been irre
sistible ; therefore Washington could
only follow a wary policy, occupying
strong ground, presenting a bold front,
and concealing the weakness of his ar
my as far as possible.
The embarkation of troops by Sir
Henry Clinton awakened the apprehen
sions of Washington lest he should sail
up the Hudson and attack the posts in
the Highlands. Those posts had al
ways been objects of much solicitude
to Washington, and he was extremely
jealous of any attack upon them. In
order to be in readiness to resist any
such attack, he left General Greene at
Springfield, with seven hundred conti
nentals, the Jersey militia, and some
cavalry, and proceeded towards Pomp-
ton with the main body of the army.
Sir Henry Clinton, after having per
plexed the Americans by his move
ments, early on the morning of the 23d
of June rapidly advanced in full force
from Elizabethtown towards Spring
field. General Greene hastily assem
bled his scattered detachments, and ap
prised Washington of the march of the
royal army, who instantly returned to
support Greene's division. The British
marched in two columns — one on the
main road leading to Springfield, and
the other on the Vauxhall road.
Greene scarcely had time to collect

his troops at Springfield, and make the
necessary dispositions, when the royal
army appeared before the town, and a
cannonade immediately began. A ford-
able rivulet, with bridges corresponding
to the different roads, runs in front of
the place. Greene had stationed par
ties to guard the bridges, and they
obstinately disputed the passage ; but
after a smart conflict they were over
powered, and compelled to retreat.
Greene then fell back, and took post
on a range of hills, where he expected
to be again attacked. But the British,
instead of attempting to pursue their
advantage, contented themselves with
setting fire to the village, and laying
the greater part of it in ashes. Dis
couraged by the obstinate resistance
they had received, and ignorant of the
weakness of the detachment which op
posed them, they immediately retreated
to Elizabethtown, pursued with the ut
most animosity by the militia, who were
provoked at the burning of Springfield.
They arrived at Elizabethtown about
sunset, and, continuing their march to
Elizabeth Point, began at midnight to
pass over to Staten Island. Before six
next morning they had entirely evac
uated the Jerseys, and removed the
bridge of boats which communicated
with Staten Island.
In the skirmish at Springfield the
Americans had about twenty men kill
ed, and sixty wounded. The British
suffered a corresponding loss. Clinton's
object in this expedition seems to have
been to destroy the American maga-

106

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

zines in that part of the country. But
the obstinate resistance which he met
with at Springfield, deterred him from
advancing into a district abounding in
difficult passes, where every strong po
sition would be vigorously defended.
He seems also to have been checked by
the apprehension of a fleet and army
from France.
Washington was informed of Clin
ton's march soon after the British left
Elizabethtown ; but, though he hastily
returned, the skirmish at Springfield
was over before he reached the vicinity
of that place.
After Clinton left the Jerseys, Wash
ington planned an enterprise against a
British post at Bergen Point, on the
Hudson opposite New York, garrisoned
by seventy loyalists. It was intended
to reduce the post, and also to carry off
a number of cattle on Bergen Neck,
from which the garrison of New York
occasionally received supplies of fresh
provisions. General Wayne was ap
pointed to conduct the enterprise.
With a respectable force he marched
against the post, which consisted of a
blockhouse covered by an abattis and
palisade. Wayne pointed his artillery
against the blockhouse, but his field-
pieces made no impression on the logs.
Galled by the fire from the loop-holes,
some of his men rushed impetuously
through the abattis and attempted to
storm the blockhouse, but they were re
pulsed with considerable loss. Though
the Americans, however, failed in their
attempt against the post, they suc

ceeded in driving off most of the
cattle. On the commencement of hostilities
in Europe, Lafayette, as we have seen,
returned home in order to offer his ser
vices to his king, still, however, retain
ing his rank in the army of Congress.
His ardor in behalf of the Americans
remained unabated, and he exerted all
his influence with the court of Versailles
to gain its effectual support to the Uni
ted States. His efforts were successful,
and the King of France resolved vigor
ously to assist the Americans both by
sea and land. Having gained this im
portant point, and perceiving that there
was no need for his military services in
Europe, he obtained leave from his sov
ereign to return to America and join
his former companions in arms. He
landed at Boston towards the end of
April, and, on his way to Congress,
called at the head-quarters of Washing
ton, and informed him of the powerful
succor which might soon be expected
from France. He met with a most
cordial reception both from Congress
and Washington, on account of his high
rank, tried friendship, and distinguished
services. The assistance expected from their
powerful ally was very encouraging to
the Americans, but called for corres
ponding exertions on their part. Wash
ington found himself in the most per
plexing circumstances : his army was
feeble, and he could form no plan for
the campaign till he knew what forces
were to be put under his orders. His

Chap. XVIII.]

CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH.

107

troops, both officers and privates, were
ill clothed, and needed to be decently
apparelled before they could be led
into the field to co-operate with soldiers
in respectable uniforms ; for his half-
naked battalions would only have been
objects of contempt and derision to
their better-dressed allies. In order
to supply these defects, and to get his
army in a state of due preparation be
fore the arrival of the European auxilia
ries, Washington made the most press
ing applications to Congress, and to the
several State legislatures. Congress
resolved and recommended ; but the
States were dilatory, and their tardy
proceedings ill accorded with the exi
gencies of the case, or with the expecta
tions of those who best understood the
affairs of the Union. Even on the 4th
of July, Washington had the mortifica
tion to find that few new levies had
arrived in camp, and some of the States
had not even taken the trouble to in
form him of the number of men they
intended to furnish.
In the month of June the State of
Massachusetts had resolved to send a
reinforcement, but no part of it had yet
arrived. About the same time a vol
untary subscription was entered into in
Philadelphia, for the purpose of pro
viding bounties to recruits to fill up the
Pennsylvania line ; and the president
or vice-president in council was em
powered, if circumstances required it,
to put the State under martial law.
The merchants and other citizens of
Philadelphia, with a zeal guided by

that sound discretion which turns ex
penditure to the best account, estab
lished a bank, for the support of which
they subscribed £315,000, Pennsylva
nia money, to be paid, if required, in
specie, the principal object of which
was to supply the army with provis
ions. By the plan of this bank, its
members were to derive no emolument
whatever from the institution. For ad
vancing their credit and their money,
they required only that Congress should
pledge the faith of the Union to reim
burse the costs and charges of the trans
action in a reasonable time, and should
give such assistance to its execution as
might be in their power.
The ladies of Philadelphia, too, gave a
splendid example of patriotism, by large
donations for the immediate relief of
the suffering army* This example was
extensively followed ; but it is not by
the contributions of the generous that
a war can or ought to be maintained.
c It is pleasant to know that Mrs. Washington was at
the head of this movement. Dr. Spencer says : " In all
parts of the country the women displayed great zeal and
activity, particularly in providing clothing for the sol
diers. In Philadelphia they formed a society, at the
head of which was Martha Washington, wife of the com
mander-in-chief. This lady was as prudent in private
affairs as her husband was in public. She alone presided
over their domestic finances, and provided for their com
mon household. Thus it was owing to the talents and
virtues of his wife, that Washington could give himself
wholly to the dictates of that patriotism which this vir
tuous pair mutually shared and reciprocally invigorated.
Mrs. Washington, Mrs. Reed, Mrs. Bache, the daughter
of Dr. Franklin, with the other ladies who had formed
the society, themselves subscribed considerable sums for
the public ; and having exhausted their own means, they
exerted their influence, and went from house to house
to stimulate the liberality of others."

108

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

The purse of a nation alone can sup
ply the expenditures of a nation ; and
when all are interested in a contest, all
ought to contribute to its support. Tax
es, and taxes only, can furnish for the
prosecution of a national war means
which are just in themselves, or com
petent to the object. Notwithstanding
these donations, the distresses of the
army, for clothing especially, still con
tinued, and were the more severely felt
when a co-operation with French troops
was expected. So late as the 20th of
June, Washington informed Congress
that he still labored under the painful
and humiliating embarrassment of hav
ing no shirts for the soldiers, many of
whom were destitute of that necessary
article. " For the troops to be without
clothing at any time," he added, " is
highly injurious to the service, and dis
tressing to our feelings ; but the want
will be more peculiarly mortifying when
they come to act with those of our al
lies. If it be possible, I have no doubt
immediate measures will be taken to
relieve their distress.
" It is also most sincerely wished that
there could be some supplies of clothing
furnished to the officers. There are a
great many whose condition is still mis
erable. This is, in some instances, the
case with the whole lines of the States.
It would be well for their own sakes,
and for the public good, if they could
be furnished. They will not be able,
when our friends come to co-operate
with us, to go on a common routine of
duty ; and if they should, they must,

from their appearance, be held in low
estimation." This picture presents, in strong col
ors, the real patriotism of the Ameri
can army. One heroic effort, though it
may dazzle the mind with its splendor,
is an exertion most men are capable of
making ; but continued patient suffer
ing and unremitting perseverance, in a
service promising no personal emolu
ment, and exposing the officer unceas
ingly, not only to wants of every kind,
but to those circumstances of humilia
tion which seem to degrade him in the
eyes of others, demonstrate a fortitude
of mind, a strength of virtue, and a
firmness of principle, which ought never
to be forgotten.
Washington was greatly embarrassed
by his uncertainty with respect to the
force which he might count upon to
co-operate with the expected succors
from France. Writing to Congress on
this subject, he said : " The season is
come when we have every reason to
expect the arrival of the fleet, and yet,
for want of this point of primary conse
quence, it is impossible for me to form
a system of co-operation. I have no
basis to act upon ; and, of course, were
this generous succor of our ally now to
arrive, I should find myself in the most
awkward, embarrassing, and painful
situation. The general and the admi
ral, from the relation in which I stand,
as soon as they approach our coast, will
require of me a plan of the measures
to be pursued, and there ought of right
to be one prepared ; but, circumstanced

Chap. XVIII.]

CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH.

109

as I am, I cannot even give them con
jectures. From these considerations, I
have suggested to the committee, by a
letter I had the honor of addressing
them yesterday, the indispensable ne
cessity of their writing again to the
States, urging them to give immediate
and precise information of the measures
they have taken and of the result. The
interest of the States, the honor and
reputation of our councils, the justice
and gratitude due to our allies, all
require that I should, without delay,
be enabled to ascertain and inform
them what we can or cannot under
take. There is a point which ought
now to be determined, on the success
of which all our future operations may
depend, on which, for want of knowing
our prospects, I can make no decision.
For fear of involving the fleet and ar
my of our allies in circumstances which
would expose them, if not seconded by
us, to material inconvenience and haz
ard, I shall be compelled to suspend
it, and the delay may be fatal to our
hopes." While this uncertainty still contin
ued, the expected succors from France,
consisting of a fleet of eight ships of
the line, with frigates and other vessels,
under the Chevalier de Ternay, having
about six thousand troops on board un
der General the Count de Rochambeau,
reached Rhode Island on the evening
of £he 10th of July ; and in a few days
afterwards Lafayette arrived at New
port from Washington's head-quarters,
to confer with his countrymen.
Vol. H.— 15

At the time of the arrival of the
French in Rhode Island, Admiral Ar-
buthnot had only four sail of the line
at New York ; but in a few days Ad
miral Graves arrived from England
with six sail of the line, which gave the
British a decided superiority over the
French squadron, and therefore Sir
Henry Clinton without delay prepared
for active operations. He embarked
about eight thousand men, and sailed
with the fleet to Huntington Bay, in
Long Island, with the intention of pro
ceeding against the French at Newport.
The militia of Massachusetts and Con
necticut were ordered by Washington
to join the French forces in Rhode
Island, and the combined army there
thought itself able to give the British
a good reception.
As the garrison of New York was
weakened by the sailing of the arma
ment under Clinton, Washington, hav
ing received considerable reinforce
ments, suddenly crossed the North
River, and advanced towards New
York ; that movement brought Clinton
back to defend the place, and conse
quently Washington proceeded no fur
ther in his meditated enterprise.
The want of money and of all neces
saries still continued in the American
camp ; and the discontent of the troops,
gradually increasing, was matured into
a dangerous spirit of insubordination.
The men, indeed, bore incredible hard
ships and privations with unexampled
fortitude and patience, but the army
was in a state of constant fluctuation :

110

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

it was composed, in a great measure, of
militia harassed by perpetual service,
and obliged to neglect the cultivation
of their farms and their private inter
ests in order to obey the calls of public
duty, and of soldiers on short enlist
ments, who never acquired the military
spirit and habits.
In consequence of an appointment,
Washington and suite set out to a con
ference with Count Rochambeau and
Admiral de Ternay, and on the 21st of
September met them at Hartford, in
Connecticut, where they spent a few
days together, and conversed about a
plan for the next campaign.
The conference was useful in making
the respective commanders well ac
quainted with each other, and promo
ting a spirit of harmony between them ;
but it led to no settled plan for the
next campaign. A plan of operations
for the combined forces, which had
been drawn up by Washington, and
sent to Rochambeau by Lafayette when
he went to Newport, had contemplated
the superiority of the naval force of the
French, which had now ceased to exist
in consequence of the arrival of Ad
miral Graves with a fleet of six ships
of the line. It was consequently agreed
that nothing could be done in the way
of offensive movements until the arrival
of a second division of the French fleet
and army from Brest, which was ex
pected, or that of the Count de Guichen
from the West Indies. In the sequel,
neither of these arrivals took place.
The second French division was block

aded at Brest, and never came to this
country, and De Guichen sailed direct
to France from the West Indies. Mean
time Admiral Arbuthnot blockaded the
French fleet at Newport, and Rocham-
beau's army remained there for its
protection. Both the parties remained
watching each other's movements, and
depending on the operations of the
British and French fleets. Washing
ton crossed the Hudson to Tappan, and
remained there till winter.
Washington did not relinquish, with
out infinite chagrin, the sanguine expect
ations he had formed of rendering this
campaign decisive of the war. Never
before had he indulged so strongly the
hope of happily terminating the con
test. In a letter to an intimate friend,
this chagrin was thus expressed : " We
are now drawing to a close an inactive
campaign, the beginning of which ap
peared pregnant with events of a very
favorable complexion. I hoped, but I
hoped in vain, that a prospect was open
ing which would enable me to fix a pe
riod to my military pursuits, and restore
me to domestic life. The favorable dis
position of Spain, the promised succor
from France, the combined force in the
West Indies, the declaration of Russia
(acceded to by other powers cf Europe,
humiliating the naval pride and powei
of Great Britain), the superiority of
France and Spain by sea in Europekthe
Irish claims and English disturbances,
formed in the aggregate an opinion in
my breast (which is not very suscep
tible of peaceful dreams), that the hour

Chap. XVIII.]

ARNOLD'S TREASON.

Ill

of deliverance was not far distant ; for
that, however unwilling Great Britain
might be to yield the point, it would
not be in her power to continue the
contest. But, alas ! these prospects,
flattering as they were, have proved
delusive, and I see nothing before us
but accumulating distress. We have
been half of our time without provis
ions, and are likely to continue so. We
have no magazines, nor money to form
them. We have lived upon expedients
until we can live no longer. In a word,
the history of the war is a history of
false hopes and temporary devices, in
stead of system and economy. It is in
vain, however, to look back, nor is it
our business to do so. Our case is not
desperate, if virtue exists in the people,
and there is wisdom among our rulers.
But to suppose that this great revolu
tion can be accomplished by a tempo
rary army, that this army will be sub
sisted by State supplies, and that taxa
tion alone is adequate to our wants, is
in my opinion absurd, and as unreason
able as to expect an inversion of the
order of nature to accommodate itself
to our views. If it were necessary, it
could be easily proved to any person of
a moderate understanding, that an an
nual army, or any army raised on the
spur of the occasion, besides being un
qualified for the end designed, is, in
various ways that could be enumerated,
tan times more expensive than a perma
nent body of men under good organi
zation and military discipline, which
never was nor will be the case with

raw troops. A thousand arguments,
resulting from experience and the na
ture of things, might also be adduced
to prove that the army, if it is to de
pend upon State supplies, must disband
or starve, and that taxation alone (espe
cially at this late hour) cannot furnish
the means to carry on the war. Is it
not time to retract from error, and ben
efit by experience ? Or do we want
further proof of the ruinous system we
have pertinaciously adhered to ?"
While the respective armies were in
the state of inaction to which we have
just referred, the whole country was
astounded by the discovery of Ar
nold's treason. The details of this sad
affair disclose traits in the character of
this officer which were previously un
known, and, by the public generally,
unsuspected. The great services and military tal
ents of General Arnold, his courage in
battle, and patient fortitude under ex
cessive hardships, had secured to him a
high place in the opinion of the army
and of his country. Not having suffi
ciently recovered from the wounds re
ceived before Quebec and at Saratoga
to be fit for active service, and having
large accounts to settle with the gov
ernment, which required leisure, he was,
on the evacuation of Philadelphia in
1778, appointed to the command in that
place. Unfortunately, that strength of prin
ciple and correctness of judgment which
might enable him to resist the various
seductions to which his fame and rank

112

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

exposed him in the metropolis of the
Union, were not associated with the
firmness which he had displayed in the
field, and in the most adverse circum
stances. Yielding to the temptations
of a false pride, and forgetting that he
did not possess the resources of private
fortune, he indulged in the pleasures of
a sumptuous table and expensive equi
page, and soon swelled his debts to an
amount which it was impossible for him
to discharge. Unmindful of his mili
tary character, he engaged in specula
tions which were unfortunate ; and with
the hope of immense profits, took shares
in privateers which were unsuccessful.
His claims against the United States
were great, and he looked to them for
the means of extricating himself from
the embarrassments in which his indis
cretions had involved him ; but the
commissioners to whom his accounts
were referred for settlement had re
duced them considerably, and on his
appeal from their decision to Congress,
a committee reported that the sum al
lowed by the commissioners was more
than he was entitled to receive.
He was charged with various acts of
extortion on the citizens of Philadel
phia, and with peculating on the public
funds.* Not the less soured by these
multiplied causes of irritation, from the
reflection that they were attributable
to his own follies and vices, he gave full

° While these charges were hanging over his head,
Arnold courted and married Miss Shippen, a young lady,
not yet eighteen, the daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen,
of Philadelphia.

scope to his resentments, and indulged
himself in expressions of angry reproach
against what he termed the ingratitude
of his country, which provoked those
around him, and gave great offence to
Congress. Having become peculiarly
odious to the government of Pennsyl
vania, the executive of that State (Pres
ident Reed, formerly aid to Washing
ton) exhibited formal charges against
him to Congress, who directed that he
should be arrested and brought before
a court-martial. His trial was con
cluded late in January, 1779, and he
was sentenced to be reprimanded by
the commander-in-chief. This sentence
was approved by Congress, and carried
into execution.f
From the time the sentence against
him was approved, if not sooner, his
proud unprincipled spirit revolted from
the cause of his country, and determin
ed him to seek an occasion to make the
objects of his resentment the victims of
his vengeance. Turning his eyes on
West Point as an acquisition which
would give value to treason, and inflict

f The terms in which this reprimand were conceived
are characteristic of Washington's delicacy and forbear
ance to an old trusted companion in arms. " Our ser
vice," — such were his words, — "is the chastest of all.
Even the shadow of a fault tarnishes the lustre of oui
finest achievements. The least inadvertence may rob us
of the public favor, so hard to be acquired. I reprimand
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 gaining the
esteem of your country."

Chap. XVHL]

ARNOLD'S TREASON.

113

a mortal wound on his former friends,
he sought the command of that fortress
for the purpose of gratifying both his
avarice and his hate.
To New York, the safety of West
Point was peculiarly interesting, and in
that State the reputation of Arnold was
particularly high. To its delegation he
addressed himself ; and one of its mem
bers had written a letter to Washing
ton, suggesting doubts respecting the
military character of General Robert
Howe, to whom its defence was then
intrusted, and recommending Arnold
for that service. This request was not
forgotten. Some short time afterwards,
General Schuyler mentioned to Wash
ington a letter he had received from
Arnold intimating his wish to join the
army, but stating his inability, in conse
quence of his wounds, to perform the
active duties of the field. Washington
observed that, as there was a prospect
of a vigorous campaign, he should be
gratified with the aid of General Ar
nold ; — that so soon as the operations
against New York should commence,
he designed to draw his whole force
into the field, leaving even West Point
to the care of invalids and a small
garrison of militia. Recollecting, how
ever, the former application of a mem
ber of Congress respecting this post, he
added, that " if, with this previous in
formation, that situation would be more
agreeable to him than a command in
the field, hi 3 wishes should certainly be
indulged." This conversation being communica

ted to Arnold, he caught eagerly at the
proposition, though without openly dis
covering any solicitude on the subject,
and in the beginning of August re
paired to camp, where he renewed the
solicitations which had before been
made indirectly.
At this juncture, Clinton embarked
on an expedition he meditated against
Rhode Island, and Washington was ad
vancing on New York. He offered Ar
nold the left wing of the army, which
he declined under the pretexts mention
ed in his letter to Schuyler.
Incapable of suspecting a man who
had given such distinguished proofs of
courage and patriotism, Washington
was neither alarmed at his refusal to
embrace so splendid an opportunity of
recovering the favor of his countrymen,
nor at the embarrassment accompany
ing that refusal. Pressing the subject
no further, he assented to the request
which had been made, and invested
Arnold with the command of West
Point. Previous to his soliciting this
station, Arnold had, in a letter to Colo
nel Robinson, of the British army, sig
nified his change of principles, and his
wish to restore himself to the favor of
his prince by some signal proof of his
repentance. This letter opened the way
to a correspondence with Clinton, the
immediate object of which, after obtain
ing the appointment he had solicited,
was to concert. the means of delivering
the important post he commanded to
the British general.
Major John Andre, an aid-de-camp

114

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

of Clinton, and adjutant-general of the
British army, was selected as the per
son to whom the maturing of Arnold's
treason, and the arrangements for its
execution, should be intrusted. A cor
respondence was carried on between
them, under a mercantile disguise, in
the feigned names of Gustavus and An
derson ; and at length, to facilitate their
communications, the Vulture sloop-of-
war moved up the North River, and took
a station convenient for the purpose,
but not so near as to excite suspicion.
The time when Washington met Ro
chambeau at Hartford was selected for
the final adjustment of the plan ; and
as a personal interview was deemed ne
cessary, Andre came up the river and
went on board the Vulture. The house
of a Mr. Smith, without the American
posts, was appointed for the interview,
and to that place both parties repaired
in the night — Andre being brought un
der a pass for John Anderson in a boat
dispatched from, the shore. While the
conference was yet unfinished, daylight
approached ; and, to avoid discovery,
Arnold proposed that Andre should
remain concealed until the succeedino-
night. They continued together during
the day ; and when, in the following
night, his return to the Vulture was
proposed, the boatmen refused to carry
him because she had shifted her sta
tion during the day, in consequence of
a gun which was moved to the shore
without the knowledge of Arnold, and
brought to bear upon her. This em
barrassing circumstance reduced him to

the necessity of endeavoring to reach
New York by land. To accomplish
this purpose, he reluctantly yielded to
the urgent representations of Arnold ;
and laying aside his regimentals, which
he had hitherto worn under a surtout,
put on a plain suit of clothes, and re
ceived a pass from Arnold, authorizing
him, under the name of John Ander
son, to proceed on the public service to
White Plains, or lower if he thought
proper. With this permit, he had passed all
the guards and posts on the road un
suspected, and was proceeding to New
York in perfect security, when one of
three militia-men* who were employed
between the lines of the two armies,
springing suddenly from his covert into
the road, seized the reins of his bridle
and stopped his horse. Losing his ac
customed self-possession, Andre, instead
of producing the pass from Arnold,
asked the man hastily where he be
longed. He replied, "To below," a term
implying that he was from New York.
"And so," said Andre, not suspecting
deception, "am I." He then declared
himself to be a British officer on urgent
business, and begged that he might not
be detained. The appearance of the
other militia-men disclosed his mistake
too late to correct it. He offered a
purse of gold and a valuable watch,
with tempting promises of ample re
ward from his government, if they
would permit him to escape ; but his
<> The names of these militia-men were John Paulding,
David Williams, and Isaac Van Wart.

Chap. XVni.]

ARNOLD'S TREASON!

115

offers were rejected, and his captors
proceeded to search him. They found
concealed in his stockings, in Arnold's
handwriting, papers containing all the
information which could be important
respecting West Point. When carried
before Lieutenant-colonel Jameson, the
officer commanding the scouting-par-
ties on the lines, he maintained his as
sumed character, and requested Jame
son to. inform his commanding officer
that Anderson was taken. Jameson
dispatehed an express with this commu
nication. On receiving it, Arnold com
prehended the full extent of his danger,
and, flying from well-merited punish
ment, took refuge on board the Vulture.
When sufficient time for the escape
of Arnold was supposed to have elapsed,
Andre,, no longer affecting concealment,
acknowledged himself to be the adju
tant-general of the British army. Jame
son, seeking to correct the mischief of
his indiscreet communication to Arnold,
immediately dispatched a packet to the
commander-in-chief containing the pa
pers which had been discovered, with a
letter from Andre, relating the manner
of his capture, and accounting for the
disguise he had assumed.
The express was directed to meet the
commander-in-chief, who was then on
his return from Hartford ; but, taking
different roads, they missed each other,
and a delay attended the delivery of
the papers, which insured the escape of
Arnold. Washington, with generals Lafayette
and Knox, had turned from the direct

route in order to visit a redoubt. Colo
nels Hamilton and M'Henry, the aids-
de-camp of Washington and Lafayette,
went forward to request Mrs. Arnold
not to wait breakfast. Arnold received
Andre's billet in their presence. He
turned pale, left them suddenly, called
his wife, communicated the intelligence
to her, and left her in a swoon, with
out the knowledge of Hamilton and
M'Henry. - Mounting the horse of his
aid-de-camp, which was ready saddled,
and directing him to inform Washing
ton on his arrival that Arnold was gone
to receive him at West Point, he gained
the river shore, and was conveyed in a
canoe to the Vulture.
Washington, on his arrival, was in
formed that. Arnold awaited him at
West Point. Taking it for granted
that this step had been taken to pre
pare for his reception, he proceeded
thither without entering the house, and
was surprised to find that Arnold was
not arrived. On returning to the quar
ters of that officer he received Jame
son's dispatch, which disclosed the
whole mystery.
Every precaution was immediately
taken for the security of West Point,
after which the attention of the com
mander-in-chief was turned to Andre.
A board of general officers, of which
General Greene was president, and La
fayette and Steuben were members,
was called, to report a precise state of
his case, and to determine the character
in which he was to be considered, and
the punishment to which he was liable.

116

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

The frankness and magnanimity with
which Andre had conducted himself
from the time of his appearance in his
real character, had made a very favora
ble impression on all those with whom
he had held any intercourse. From
this cause he experienced every mark
of indulgent attention which was com
patible with his situation ; and, from a
sense of justice as well as of delicacy,
was informed, on the opening of the
examination, that he was at liberty
not to answer any interrogatory which
might embarrass his own feelings. But,
as if only desirous to rescue his charac
ter from imputations which he dreaded
more than death, he confessed every
thing material to his own condemna
tion, but would divulge nothing which
might involve others.
The board reported the essential facts
which had appeared, with their opinion
that Major Andre was a spy, and ought
to suffer death. The execution of this
sentence was ordered to take place on
the day succeeding that on which it
was pronounced.
Superior to the terrors of death, but
dreading disgrace, Andre was deeply
affected by the mode of execution which
the laws of war decree to persons in his
situation. He wished to die like a sol
dier, not as a criminal. To obtain a
mitigation of his sentence in this re
spect, he addressed a letter to Wash
ington, replete with the feelings of a
man of sentiment and honor. But the
occasion required that the example
should make its full impression, and

this request could not be granted. He
encountered his fate with composure
and dignity, and his whole conduct in
terested the feelings of all who wit
nessed it.
The general officers lamented the sen
tence which the usages of war compelled
them to pronounce, and never perhaps
did the commander-in-chief obey with
more reluctance the stern mandates of
duty and policy. The sympathy ex
cited among the American officers by
his fate was as universal as it is unusual
on such occasions, and proclaims alike
the merit of him who suffered, and the
humanity of those who inflicted the
punishment. Great exertions were made by Sir
Henry Clinton, to whom Andre was
particularly dear, first, to have him con
sidered as protected by a flag of truce,
and afterwards as a prisoner of war.
Even Arnold had the hardihood to
interpose. After giving a certificate of
facts tending, as he supposed, to excul
pate the prisoner, exhausting his powers
of reasoning on the case, and appeal
ing to the humanity of Washington, he
sought to intimidate that officer, by
stating the situation of many of the
most distinguished individuals of South
Carolina, who had forfeited their lives,
but had hitherto been spared through
the clemency of the British general.
This clemency, he said, could no longer
be extended to them should Major
Andre suffer.
It may well be supposed that the in
terposition of Arnold could have no

Chap. XVIII.]

ARNOLD'S TREASON.

117

influence on Washington. He caused
Mrs. Arnold to be conveyed to her hus
band in New York, and also transmitted
his clothes and baggage, for which he
had written ; but in every other re
spect, his letters, which were unan
swered, were also unnoticed.
The night after Arnold's escape, when
his letter respecting Andr6 was received,
the general directed one of his aids to
wait on Mrs. Arnold, who was convulsed
with grief, and inform her that he had
done every thing which depended on
him to arrest her husband, but that,
not having succeeded, it gave him pleas
ure to inform her that her husband was
safe. It is honorable to the American
character, that, during the effervescence
of the moment, Mrs. Arnold was per
mitted to go to Philadelphia to take
possession of her effects, and to proceed
to New York under the protection of
a flag, without receiving the slightest
insult. This treatment of Mrs. Arnold by
Washington is the more remarkable for
its delicacy, when we recollect that she
was under very strong suspicions at the
time of being actively concerned in the
treason of her husband. Historians are
still divided on the question of her guilt
or innocence.
The mingled sentiments of admira
tion and compassion excited in every
bosom for the unfortunate Andre,*
seemed to increase the detestation in
which Arnold was held. " AndreV' said

General Washington in a private letter,
"has met his fate with that fortitude
which was to be expected from an ac
complished man and a gallant officer ;
but I am mistaken if at this time Arnold
is undergoing the torments of a mental
hell. He wants feeling. From some
traits of his character which have lately
come to my knowledge, he seems to
have been so hardened in crime, so lost
to all sense of honor and shame, that
while his faculties still enable him to
continue his sordid pursuits, there will
be no time for remorse."
The traits in his character above al
luded to, were disclosed in a private
letter from Hamilton, who said : " This
man (Arnold) is in every sense despi
cable. In addition to the scene of
knavery and prostitution during his
command in Philadelphia, which the
late seizure of his papers has unfolded,
the history of his command at West
Point is a history of little as well as
great villainies. He practised every
dirty act of peculation, and even stoop
ed to connections with the suttlers to
defraud the public."f
From motives of policy, or of respect
for his engagements, Sir Henry Clinton
conferred on Arnold the commission of
a brigadier-general in the British service,
which he preserved throughout the war.

• See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.
Voi. n.— ie

" "I am inclined to believe that Arnold was a fin
ished scoundrel from early manhood to his grave ; nor
do I believe that he had any real and true-hearted at
tachment to the whig cause. He fought as a mere ad
venturer, and took sides from a calculation of personal
gain, and chances of plunder and advancement.' ' — Sabine's
" American Loyalists," p. 181.

118

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book jlV.

Yet it is impossible that rank could
have rescued him from the contempt
and detestation in which the generous,
the honorable, and the brave could not
cease to hold him. It was impossible
for men of this description to bury the
recollection of his being a traitor — a
sordid traitor, — first the slave of his
rage, then purchased with gold, and
finally secured at the expense of the
blood of one of the most accomplished
officers in the British army.
His representations of the discontent
of the country and of the army concur
ring with reports from other quarters,
had excited the hope that the loyalists
and the dissatisfied, allured by British
gold and the prospect of rank in the
British service, would flock to his stand
ard, and form a corps at whose head he
might again display his accustomed in
trepidity. With this hope he published
an address to the inhabitants of Amer
ica, in which he labored to palliate his
own guilt, and to increase their dissatis
faction with the existing state of things.
This appeal to the public was follow
ed by a proclamation addressed "To
the officers and soldiers of the conti
nental army, who have the real inter
ests of their country at heart, and who
are determined to be no longer the
tools and dupes of Congress or of
France." The object of this proclamation was
to induce the officers and soldiers to
desert the cause they had embraced
from principle, by holding up to them
the very flattering offers of the British

general, and contrasting the substantial
emoluments of the British service with
their present deplorable condition. He
attempted to cover this dishonorable
proposition with a decent garb, by rep
resenting the base step he invited them
to take as the only measure which could
restore peace, real liberty, and happi
ness to their country.
These inducements did not produce
their intended effect. Although the
temper of the army might be irritated
by real suffering, and by the supposed
neglect of government, no diminu
tion of patriotism had been produced.
Through all the hardships, irritations,
and vicissitudes of the war, Arnold re
mains the solitary instance of an Amer
ican officer who abandoned the side
first embraced in this civil contest, and
turned his sword upon his former com
panions in arms.
In the whole course of this affair of
Arnold's treason, Washington, accord
ing to the habitually religious turn of
his mind, distinctly recognized the hand
of Divine Providence. Writing to Colo
nel John Laurens, he says : " In no in
stance since the commencement of the
war, has the interposition of Providence
appeared more remarkably conspicuous
than in the rescue of the post and gar
rison of West Point from Arnold's vil
lainous perfidy. How far he meant to
involve me in the catastrophe of this
place, does not appear by any indubita
ble evidence ; and I am rather inclined
to think he did not wish to hazard the
more important object of his treachery

Chap. XVIII.]

ARNOLD'S TREASON.

119

by attempting to combine two events,
the less of which might have marred
the greater. A combination of extraor
dinary circumstances, an unaccountable
deprivation of presence of mind in a
man of the first abilities, and the virtue
of three militia-men, threw the adjutant-
general of the British forces, with full
proofs of Arnold's treachery, into our
hands. But for the egregious folly, or
the bewildered conception, of Lieuten
ant-colonel Jameson, who seemed lost
in astonishment, and not to know what
he was doing, I should undoubtedly
have got Arnold."
Arnold, however, had not yet dis
played the whole of his character.
Savage revenge and ruthless cruelty
were yet to become apparent in his

conduct as an officer in the British ser
vice. It seems to have been the de
sign of Providence that Americans, in
all ages, should learn to detest trea
son by seeing it exhibited, in all its
hideous deformity, in the person of
"Arnold, the traitor."*
e On the 3d of November it was resolved, " That Con
gress have a high sense of the virtuous and patriotic con
duct of John Paulding, David Williams, and Isaac Van
Wart : in testimony whereof, ordered, that each of them
receive annually two hundred dollars in specie, or an
equivalent in the current money of these States, during
life, and that the Board of War be directed to procure for
each of them a silver medal, on one side of which shall
be a shield, with this inscription — Fidelity ; and on the
other, the following motto — Vincit amor patei.e, and
forward them to the commander-in-chief, who is re
quested to present the same, with a copy of this res
olution, and the thanks of Congreps for their fidelity,
and the eminent service they have rendered their coun
try."

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XVIII.

[A.]
GENERAL SCHUYLER.
General Philip Schuyler was horn at
Albany on the 22d of November, 1733. His
grandfather, Peter Schuyler, was mayor of Al
bany, and commander of the northern militia in
1690. His father, John jSchuyler, married Cor
nelia Van Courtlandt, a woman of strong mind,
and Philip was their eldest son. By the law
of primogeniture, he inherited the real estate
of his father at his death, but he generously
shared it with his brothers and sisters. His
father died when Philip was young, and to the
thorough training of his gifted mother he was
greatly indebted for his success in life. He en
tered the army against the French and Indians
in 1755, and commanded a company which at
tended Sir William Johnson to Fort Edward
and Lake George. He soon attracted the atten
tion of Lord Howe, who commanded the first
division of the British army against the forts on
Lake George and Lake Champlain, and was
placed in the commissariat department. When
Lord Howe fell at Ticonderoga, to Colonel
Schuyler was intrusted the duty of conveying
the body of that greatly beloved young noble
man to Albany for sepulture. After the peace
of 1763, he was much in active service in the
civil government of his State. In the Colonial
Assembly of New York, he was one of the
warmest opponents of the British government
in its attempts to tax the colonies without their
consent. He was elected a delegate to the Con
tinental Congress which assembled in May, 1775,
and in June following he was appointed by that

body one of the major-generals (the third) of
the American army.*
He received his commission from Congress
June ]9th, 1776, and was ordered to take com
mand of the expedition against Canada; but,
being taken sick, the command devolved upon
General Montgomery. On his recovery, he de
voted his time, and, with the assistance of Gen
eral St. Clair, used every effort to stay the pro
gress of a veteran and numerous army under
Burgoyne, who had commenced his march from
Canada, on the bold attempt of forming a junc
tion at Albany with Sir Henry Clinton.
The duties of General Schuyler now became
laborious, intricate, and complicated. On his
arrival at head-quarters, he found the army of
the north not only too weak for the objects in
trusted to it, but also badly supplied with arms,
clothes, and provisions. From a spy he obtained
information that General Burgoyne had arrived
at Quebec, and was to take command of the
British force on their contemplated expedition.
A few days removed the doubts which might
have existed respecting the intentions of Bur
goyne. It was understood that his army was
advancing towards the lakes.
General Schuyler was sensible of the danger
which threatened his department, and made
every exertion to meet it. He visited in person
the different posts, used the utmost activity in
obtaining supplies of provisions to enable them
to hold out in the event of a siege, and had pro
ceeded to Albany both for the purpose of at
tending to the supplies, and of expediting the
* Lossing, Field-Book of the Revolution.

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Chap. XVIII.]

DOCUMENTS.

121

march of Nixon's brigade, whose arrival was
expected, when he received intelligence from
General St. Clair, who was intrusted with the
defence of Ticonderoga, that Burgoyne had ap
peared before that place.
In the course of the preceding winter, a plan
for penetrating to the Hudson from Canada by
the way of the lakes was completely digested,
and its most minute parts arranged in the cab
inet of St. James. General Burgoyne, who as
sisted in forming it, was intrusted with its execu
tion, and was to lead a formidable army against
Ticonderoga as soon as the season would per
mit. At the same time, a smaller party, under
Colonel St. Leger, composed of Canadians, new-
raised Americans, and a few Europeans, aided
by a powerful body of Indians, was to march
from Oswego, to enter the country by the way
of the Mohawk, and to join the grand army on
the Hudson.
The force assigned for this service was such
as the general himself deemed sufficient ; and,
as it was the favorite plan of the minister, no
circumstance was omitted which could give to
the numbers employed their utmost possible
efficacy. The troops were furnished with every
military equipment which the service required ;
the assisting general officers were of the first
reputation, and the train of artillery was, per
haps, the most powerful ever annexed to an
army not more numerous.
Valor, perseverance, and industry could avail
nothing against such vast numbers as now as
sailed the American army. Ticonderoga was
evacuated, and stores, artillery, and military
equipage to an immense amount fell into the
hands of the enemy.
Knowing the inferiority of his numbers, and
that he could only hope to save his army by the
rapidity of his march, General St. Clair reached
Charlestown, thirty miles from Ticonderoga, on
the night succeeding the evacuation of the fort.
On the 7th of July, at Stillwater, on his way
to Ticonderoga, General Schuyler was informed
of the evacuation of that place, and on the same
day, at Saratoga, the total loss of the stores at
Skeenesborough was also reported to him.
From General St. Clair he had heard nothing,
and the most serious fears were entertained for

the army commanded by that officer. His force,
after being joined by Colonel Long, consisted of
about fifteen hundred continental troops, and the
same number of militia. They were dispirited
by defeat, without tents, badly armed, and had
lost a great part of their stores and baggage.
That part of the country was generally much
alarmed, and even those who were well affected,
discovered, as is usual in such circumstances,
more inclination to take care of themselves than
to join the army.
In this gloomy state of things, it is impossible
that any officer could have used more diligence
or judgment than was displayed by Schuyler.
After the evacuation of Fort Anne, Burgoyne
found it absolutely necessary to suspend for a
time all further pursuit, and to give his army
some refreshment.
In the present state of things, totally unable
to meet the enemy, it was of unspeakable im
portance to the American general to gain time.
This short and unavoidable interval from action,
therefore, was seized by Schuyler, whose head
quarters were at Fort Edward, and used to the
utmost advantage.
The country between Skeenesborough and
Fort Edward was almost entirely unsettled,
covered with thick woods, of a surface extreme
ly rough, and much intersected with creeks and
morasses. As far as Fort Anne, Wood Creek
was navigable with batteaux ; and artillery, mil
itary stores,' provisions, and heavy baggage
might be transported up the creek.
The first moments of rest, while Burgoyne
was reassembling his forces at Skeenesborough,
were employed by Schuyler in destroying the
navigation of Wood Creek, by sinking numer
ous impediments in its course, and in breaking
up the bridges and otherwise rendering impass
able the roads over which the British army must
necessarily march. He was also indefatigable
in driving all the live-stock out of the way, and
in bringing from Fort George to Fort Edward
ammunition and other military stores which had
been deposited at that place, of which his army
was in much need, and which it was essential
to bring away before the British could remove
their gun-boats and army into the lake, and pos
sess themselves of the fort.

122

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

While thus endeavoring to obstruct the march
of the enemy, he was not inattentive to the best
means of strengthening his own army. Rein
forcements of regular troops were earnestly so
licited. The militia of New England and New
York were called for, and all his influence in the
surrounding country was exerted to reanimate
the people, and to prevent their defection from
the American cause.
The evacuation of Ticonderoga was a shock
for which no part of the United States was pre
pared. Neither the strength of the invading
army nor of the garrison had been anywhere
understood. The opinion was common, that
no reinforcements had arrived at Quebec that
spring, in which case it was believed that not
more than five thousand men could be spared
from the defence of Canada. Those newly raised
regiments of New England and New York,
which had been allotted to the northern depart
ment, had been reported, and were believed by
the commander-in-chief and by Congress, as
well as by the community at large, to consist of
a much greater number of effectives than they
actually contained. In addition to these, the offi
cer commanding the garrison was empowered to
call to his aid such bodies of militia as he might
deem necessary for the defence of his post.
A very few days before the place was invest
ed, General Schuyler, from an inspection of the
muster-rolls, had stated the garrison to amount
to five thousand men, and the supply of pro
visions to be abundant. When, therefore, it
was understood that a place, on the fortifica
tions of which much money and labor had
been expended — which was considered as a key
to the whole western country, and supposed
to contain a garrison nearly equal to the in
vading army — had been abandoned without a
siege ; that an immense train of artillery, con
sisting of one hundred and twenty-eight pieces,
and all the baggage, military stores, and provis
ions, had either fallen into the hands of the
enemy or been destroyed ; that the army on its
retreat had been attacked, defeated, and dis
persed, — astonishment pervaded all ranks of
men, and the conduct of the officers was almost
universally condemned. Congress directed a
recall of all the generals of the department, and

an inquiry into their conduct. Through New
England, especially, the most malignant asper
sions were cast on them, and General Schuyler,
who, from some unknown cause, had never been
viewed with favor in that part of the continent,
was involved in the common charges of treach
ery, to which this accumulation of unlooked-for
calamity was very generally attributed by the
mass of the people.
On the representations of General Washing
ton, the recall of the officers was suspended
until, in his opinion, the state of things would
admit of such a measure ; and on inquiry after
wards made into the conduct of the generals,
they were acquitted of all blame. When the
resolutions were passed, directing an inquiry
into the conduct of Schuyler and St. Clair, ap
pointing a committee to report on the mode
of conducting the inquiry, and, in the mean
while, recalling them and all the brigadiers
who had served in that department, General
Washington was requested to name a succes
sor to Schuyler. On his expressing a wish to
decline this nomination, and representing the
inconvenience of removing all the general offi
cers, Gates was again directed to repair thither
and take the command ; and the resolution to
recall the brigadiers was suspended, until the
commander-in-chief should be of opinion that it
might be carried into effect with safety. Schuy
ler retained the command until the arrival of
Gates, which was about the 21st of August, and
continued his exertions to restore the affairs of
the department, which had been much depressed
by the losses consequent on the evacuation of
Ticonderoga. He felt acutely the disgrace of
being recalled in this critical and interesting
state of the campaign, but nobly submitted to
the decision of his superiors in rank.
If error be attributed to the evacuation of
Ticonderoga, certainly no portion of it was com
mitted by Schuyler. His removal from the
command was probably unjust and severe, as
the measure respected himself. The patriotism
and magnanimity displayed by the ex-general
on this occasion does him high honor. All that
could have been effected to impede the progress
of the British army had been done already.
Bridges were broken up, causeways destroyed,

Chap. XVIII.]

DOCUMENTS.

123

trees felled in every direction, to retard the con
veyance of stores and artillery.
On Gates's arrival, General Schuyler, without
the slightest indication of ill-humor, resigned his
command, communicated all the intelligence he
possessed, and put every interesting paper into
his hands, simply adding, " I have done all that
could be done, as far as the means were in my
power, to injure the enemy and to inspire confi
dence in the soldiers of our own army, and I
flatter myself with some success ; but the palm
of victory is denied me, and it is left to you,
general, to reap the fruits of my labors. I will
not fail, however, to second your views, and my
devotion to my country will cause me with alac
rity to obey all your orders." He performed
his promise, and faithfully did his duty, till the
surrender of Burgoyne put an end to the con
test. Another anecdote is recorded to his honor.
General Burgoyne, dining with General Gates
immediately after the convention of Saratoga,
and hearing General Schuyler named among the
officers presented to him, thought it necessary
to apologize for the destruction of his elegant
mansion a few days before, by his orders.
" Make no excuses, general," was the reply ;
" I feel myself more than compensated by the
pleasure of meeting you at this table." The
court of inquiry instituted on the conduct of
generals Schuyler and St. Clair resulted with
the highest honor to them. General Schuyler,
though not invested with any distinct command,
continued to render important services in the
military transactions of New York until the
close of the war.
General Schuyler was a member of the old
Congress, and also represented the State of New
York in the senate of the United States when
the present government commenced its opera
tions. In 1797 he was again appointed a sena
tor. He died at Albany, November 18th, 1804,
in the seventy-third year of his age.

[B.]

JOHN ANDRE.

John Andre, born in 1751, relinquished the
profession of a merchant to join the British

army in America, where he soon attained the
rank of major and adjutant-general, and was
employed by Sir Henry Clinton to carry on a
negotiation- with Arnold, the American general,
when he was taken, and condemned by a court-
martial to be hanged as a spy, which sentence
was carried into execution on the 2d of October,
1780, in spite of the intercession of Sir Henry
Clinton and General Arnold, and of the request
of Major Andre to Washington, to be shot in
stead of hanged. He died with great fortitude,
saying, a few minutes previously, to the Ameri
cans, "I consider this hour as the most glo
rious of my life. Remember, I die as becomes
a British officer." He was much beloved by
the whole army, which went into mourning for
him ; and a monument, by order of the king,
was erected to his memory in Westminster Ab
bey. Major Andre had written, while in Amer
ica, a satirical poem, called the Cow-Chace, the
last canto of which was printed the very day
that he was taken prisoner. Washington has
been much and very unjustly censured by Brit
ish writers for his treatment of this officer, who,
however, was a spy to all intents and purposes.
The officers composing the court which exam
ined him were Greene, Stirling, St. Clair, Lafa
yette, Howe, Steuben, Parsons, James Clinton,
Knox, Glover, Patterson, Hand, Huntington,
Starke, and Lawrence. These gentlemen com
passionated his case, gave him every indulgence,
heard his own story, and called no other wit
nesses. They desired earnestly to save his life,
but they were compelled by the facts to pro
nounce him a spy. Washington had no alter
native but to hang him or abandon the war. II
spies were permitted to escape hanging, war
could not be carried on. When Captain Na
than Hale was hanged for being found within
the British lines in the character of a spy, com
paratively but little complaint was made. But
when Andre was hanged for precisely the same
offence, the whole world was called upon for
sympathy, and the greatest man living attempt
ed to be covered with unmerited obloquy for
doing what his duty rendered unavoidable.
Lord Mahon, in the last volume of his History
of England, lately published, goes into a labored
tissue of sophistry and misstatement of facts to

124

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

prove that the hanging of Andre was a blot
upon the character of Washington. The refu
tation of his argument, by Major Charles J.
Biddle, lately read before the Historical Society
of Pennsylvania, the reader will find in the Phil
adelphia " North American and United States
Gazette" of May 13, 1857.

[C]
COLONEL WADSWORTH.
Jeremiah Wadsworth was born at Hartford,
Connecticut, on the 12th of July, 1743. His
father died when he was a little more than four
years old. He early entered the service of his
mother's brother, Matthew Talcott, Esq., a mer
chant in Middletown, extensively concerned in
navigation. At eighteen, being affected with
pulmonary symptoms, he was advised to go to
sea, and entered as a seaman before the mast in
one of his uncle's vessels. Here he soon recov
ered his health. After several voyages in this
capacity, he became, first the mate, and after
wards the master of a vessel. He was thus at
sea at least ten years. Faithful and efficient in
his business, he won the confidence and esteem
of all who had dealings with him.
During the latter part of this period, he mar
ried Miss Mehitabel Russell, daughter of the
Rev. William Russell of Middletown. After
his mother's death in 1773, he, with his family —
a wife and three children — removed to Hart
ford, and occupied, in common with his sisters,
the paternal mansion-house.
The Revolutionary War, which commenced
when he was about thirty-two years old, de
prived him of his employment at sea. But he
had become too much a man of business to
be idle. It was seen that his experience and
tact in buying and selling cargoes might be
turned to a profitable account — profitable to his
country as well as to himself— in furnishing sup
plies for the army. He was offered the place of
deputy-commissary under Colonel Joseph Trum
bull, which he accepted ; and so satisfactorily
did he execute its duties, that on the resigna
tion of his principal, not long afterwards, he was

appointed by Congress as his successor in office.
After the arrival of the French troops he be
came commissary of the French army, and
acted in that capacity until the close of the war.
His official situation, his knowledge of the
country and its resources, his insight into the
characters and motives of men, and his sound
common sense on all subjects, rendered it use
ful, not to say necessary, for the principal offi
cers of the American and French armies to hold
frequent consultations with him. He shared
largely in their confidence, especially in that of
the commander-in-chief. Hence they were often
his guests ; and his house was always open to
them. The following apostrophe to this house,
after its removal, is not less authentic as a record
of historical facts, than its diction is graceful :
1 ' Fallen dome — beloved so well,
Thou couldst many a legend tell
Of the chiefs of ancient fame,
Who, to share thy shelter, came
Rochambeau and Lafayette
Round thy plenteous board have met,
With Columbia's mightier son,
Great and glorious Washington.
Here, with kindred minds, they plann'd
Rescue for an infant land ;
While the British lion's roar
Echo'd round the leaguer'd shore."
General Washington was enjoying the hos
pitality of this house, with the. Count de Ro
chambeau, at the time Arnold was perpetrating
treason at West Point, and returned to take a
hasty breakfast at the traitor's table an hour
after he had fled from it, and immediately be
fore the discovery of his guilt.
In July, 1783, after the cessation of hostili
ties, and a few weeks before the treaty of peace
was signed, Colonel Wadsworth embarked for
France, for the purpose of rendering an account
of his administration to the proper officers of
the French government, and obtaining a final
settlement with them. He arrived in France in
August, after a passage of twenty-seven days.
So correctly had his accounts been kept, and so
satisfactory had his official conduct been, that a
settlement was effected without difficulty, and
the large balance in his favor was honorably
paid. In the latter part of March, 1784, he left

Chap. XVHL]

DOCUMENTS.

125

France, and passed over to England, where he
remained until some time in July following.
Thence he went to Ireland, where he spent
about six weeks, and then returned to America.
He arrived in Delaware Bay after a passage of
fifty-six days.
A considerable part of the funds he received
from the French government he invested in
French, English, and Irish goods, which he
brought home and sold in Hartford and Phila
delphia. This, with the care and management
of his other property, afforded him sufficient
employment in the way of business, without
intrenching upon his social and domestic enjoy
ments. During this period he caused great improve
ments in the agriculture of his neighborhood,
by successful experiments on his own land. He
also introduced into the State breeds of horses
and horned cattle, superior to those which had
been previously raised there.
When the constitution of the United States
was referred to the people of the several States
for their consideration, he was elected a member
of the convention of Connecticut from his native
Vol. II.— 17

town, and not only took a deep interest in its
proceedings, but largely shared its labors and
responsibilities. Though his education and hab
its had not especially fitted him for public de
bate, yet his natural good sense surmounted
every difficulty of this sort, and he became an
efficient advocate of the constitution. After its
adoption, he was elected a member of the first
Congress, with such men as Roger Sherman,
Jonathan Trumbull, and others, for his col
leagues. He was re-elected to the second Con
gress, and afterwards to the third. After serv
ing his State and country in this capacity for six
years, he resigned his seat, and declined a fur
ther election. In May, 1795, in the next session
of the General Assembly of his State after the
expiration of the third Congress, he was chosen
a representative of his native town, and was at
the same time elected by the freemen of the
State an assistant or member of the council.
He took his seat in the latter body, and was
annually re-elected to that station until 1801,
when, at his own request, he was omitted. He
died on the 30th of April, 1804, leaving a widow
and two children — a son and a daughter.

CHAPTER XIX.
1780.
OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.
Washington's views of the war at the South. — His letter to Lafayette in Paris. — Lincoln in command at the South. —
Clinton's arrival with a fleet and army. — Position of Lincoln at Charleston. — Washington sends him reinforce
ments. — Clinton's caution in approaching Charleston. — Governor Rutledge invested with dictatorial authority.—
Fortifications of Charleston. — Clinton's measures. — Tarleton encounters Colonel Washington. — British fleet comes
up the river. — Washington's opinion of the impracticability of defending the town. — British fleet passes Fort
Moultrie. — Siege formally commenced. — Garrison reinforced. — Garrison summoned to surrender. — Lincoln's an
swer. — Tarleton defeats Huger at Monk's Corner. — Besiegers reinforced. — Lincoln calls a council of war. — Terms
of capitulation offered and rejected. — Fort Moultrie taken.— Colonel White twice defeated by Tarleton. — Second
council of war. — Terms again offered and rejected. — Final capitulation. — Its terms. — Lincoln's conduct defended.
— Inquiry proposed by Congress. — Washington's letter on the subject. — Exultation of the British at the fall of
Charleston. — Clinton's measures for assuring the conquest of the State. — Tarleton massacres Buford's party at
the Waxhaws. — Clinton's infamous proclamation, violating the terms of capitulation. — Clinton returns to New
York, leaving Cornwallis in command. — His measures. — The North Carolinians. — Proclamations. — Oppression of
the Charleston people. — Noble conduct of the ladies. — Washington sends De Kalb to the South. — Sumter gathers
a partisan force. — Congress sends Gates to the South. — He disregards De Kalb's advice. — Sufferings of the army.
— Gates reaches Rugby's Mills. — Sumter reinforced by him. — Gates advances to Camden. — Rawdon's movements.—
Cornwallis joins him. — Battle of Camden, and total rout of Gates's army. — Brave resistance of the Continentals
under De Kalb. — Death of De Kalb. — Sumter captures prisoners and stores. — Is surprised and routed by Tarleton.
Washington's view of the state of affairs at the South. — His letter to Rutledge and to De Guichen.— Gates's hu
miliation. — His letters to Washington. — Cornwallis's position after the battle of Camden. — His atrocious orders
to his officers. — Consequences of their execution. — 111 treatment of the Charleston people. — Cornwallis advances
to Charlottetown. — Major Ferguson'B expedition.— Colonel Clarke's operations. — The Western men aroused. —
Ferguson re.treats. — Is overtaken. — Battle of King's Mountain. — Disastrous retreat of Cornwallis's force to
Wy nnesborough .

Although Washington was aware
that the British were aiming at the con
quest of the Southern States, he still
considered the Middle States to be the
main theatre of war, and felt the neces
sity of reserving his main force for the
defence of that portion of the Union.
He did not believe that the possession,
by the British, of a few posts in the
South would contribute much to the
purposes of the war, and he sent no

more troops to that part of the country
than he could conveniently spare from
the main army. Writing to Lafayette,
in Paris, after the fall of Savannah (8th
March, 1779), he says: "Nothing of
importance has happened since you left
us, except the enemy's invasion of Geor
gia and possession of its capital, which,
though it may add something to their
supplies on the score of provisions, will
contribute very little to the brilliancy

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

127

of their arms ; for, like the defenceless
island of St. Lucia,* it only required
the appearance of force to effect the
conquest of it, as the whole militia of
the State did not exceed twelve hun
dred men, and many of them disaffected.
General Lincoln is assembling a force
to dispossess them, and my only fear is,
that he will precipitate the attempt
before he is fully prepared for the exe
cution." As early as September, 1778, General
Lincoln had been appointed to super
sede General Robert Howe in the com
mand of the southern army. Lincoln
had baffled the attempts of General Pre-
vost on South Carolina, and had com
manded the American forces in the un
successful siege of Savannah, acting in
concert with D'Estaing. He was still in
command at Charleston when Clinton,
whose departure from New York on an
expedition to the South we have already
noticed, made his descent on South Car
olina. In this command at Charleston,
General Lincoln labored under great
disadvantages and discouragements.
The failure of the attack on Savan
nah, with the departure of the French
fleet from the coast of America, pre
sented a gloomy prospect, and was the
forerunner of many calamities to the
Southern States. By their courage and
vigor, the northern provinces had re
pelled the attacks of the enemy, and
discouraged future attempts against
them. But although the brave defence
• This was a recent conquest of the British fleet in the
West Indies.

of Sullivan's Island, in 1776, had long
concealed the fact, it was now discov
ered that the southern colonists pos
sessed neither the union nor the deter
mination of their brethren in the North.
The rapid conquest of Georgia, the easy
march of Prevost to the very gates of
Charleston, and the timid behavior of
many of the colonists, who were more
inclined to save themselves by submis
sion than to assert the independence of
their country by force of arms, all
pointed out the Southern States as the
most vulnerable part of the Union, and
invited an attack in that quarter. In
the North, the campaign of 1778 and
1779 had produced no important re
sults ; and therefore the late transac
tions in Georgia and South Carolina
more readily drew the attention of the
British commander-in-chief to those
States. Savannah, the chief town of Georgia,
as we have already seen, was in the
hands of the British troops, and had
been successfully defended against a
combined attack of the French and
Americans ; and therefore Sir Henry
Clinton resolved to gain possession of
Charleston also, the capital of South
Carolina, which would give him the
command of all the southern parts of
the Union. Having made the neces
sary preparations, he sailed, as we have
seen, from New York on the 26th of
December, 1779, under convoy of Ad
miral Arbuthnot, but did not arrive at
Savannah till the end of January. The
voyage was tempestuous : some of the

128

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

transports and victuallers were lost,
others shattered, and a few taken by
the American cruisers. Most of the
cavalry and draught-horses perished.
One of the transports, which had been
separated from the fleet and captured
by the Americans, was brought into
Charleston on the 23d of January, and
the prisoners gave the first certain
notice of the destination of the expe
dition. As soon as it was known that an
armament was fitting out at New York,
many suspected that the Southern States
were to be assailed ; and such was the
unhappy posture of American affairs at
that time, that no sanguine expectations
of a successful resistance could be rea
sonably entertained. The magazines
of the Union were everywhere almost
empty, and Congress had neither money
nor credit to replenish them. The ar
my at Morristown, under the immediate
orders of Washington, was threatened,
as we have seen, with destruction by
want of provisions, and consequently
could neither act with vigor in the
North, nor send reinforcements to the
South. General Lincoln, though aware of his
danger, was not in a condition to meet
it. On raising the siege of Savannah,
he had sent the troops of Virginia to
Augusta ; those of South Carolina were
stationed partly at Sheldon, opposite
Port Royal, between thirty and forty
miles north from Savannah, and partly
at Fort Moultrie, which had been al
lowed to fall into decay ; those of

North Carolina were with General Lin
coln at Charleston. All these detach
ments formed but a feeble force, and to
increase it was not easy, for the colonial
paper money was in a state of great
depreciation : the militia, worn out by
a harassing service, were reluctant again
to repair to the standards of their coun
try ; and the brave defence of Savannah
had inspired the people of the southern
provinces with intimidating notions of
British valor. The patriotism of many
of the colonists had evaporated ; they
contemplated nothing but the hardships
and dangers of the contest, and recoiled
from the protracted struggle.
In these discouraging circumstances,
Congress recommended the people of
South Carolina to arm their slaves, a
measure to which they were generally
averse ; although, had they been will
ing to comply with the recommenda
tion, arms could not have been pro
cured. Washington had, as we have
already seen, ordered the continental
troops of North Carolina and Virginia
to march to Charleston ; and four Amer
ican frigates, two French ships of war,
the one mounting twenty-six and the
other eighteen guns, with the marine
force of South Carolina under Commo
dore Whipple, were directed to co-op
erate in the defence of the town. No
more aid could be expected ; yet, un
der these unpromising circumstances, a
full house of assembly resolved to de
fend Charleston to the last extremity.
Although Clinton had embarked at
New York on the 26th of December,

Chap. XLX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

129

1779, yet, as his voyage had been stormy
and tedious, and as some time had been
necessarily spent at Savannah, it was
the 11th of February, 1780, before he
landed on John's Island, thirty miles
south from Charleston. Had he even
then marched rapidly upon the town,
he would probably have entered it
without much opposition ; but, mindful
of his repulse in 1776, his progress was
marked by a wary circumspection. He
proceeded by the islands of St. John
and St. James, while part of his fleet
advanced to blockade the harbor. He
sent for a reinforcement from New
York, ordered General Prevost to join
him with eleven hundred men from Sa
vannah, and neglected nothing that
could insure success.
General Lincoln was indefatigable in
improving the time which the slow pro
gress of the royal army afforded him.
Six hundred slaves were employed in
constructing or repairing the fortifica
tions of the town ; vigorous though not
very successful measures were taken to
bring the militia into the field ; and
all the small detachments of regular
troops were assembled in the capital.
The works which had been begun on
Charleston Neck, when General Pre
vost threatened the place, were re
sumed. A chain of redoubts, lines, and
batteries was formed between the Coop
er and Ashley rivers. In front of each
flank, the works were covered by
swamps extending from the rivers :
these opposite swamps were connected
by a canal ; between the canal and the

works were two strong rows of abattis,
and a ditch double picketed, with deep
holes at short distances, to break the
columns in case of an assault. Towards
the water, works were thrown up at
every place where a landing was prac
ticable. The vessels intended to defend
the bar of the harbor having been found
insufficient for that purpose, their guns
were taken out and planted on the ram
parts, and the seamen were stationed at
the batteries. One of the ships, which
was not dismantled, was placed in the
Cooper River to assist the batteries ;
and several vessels were sunk at the
mouth of the channel, to prevent the
entrance of the royal fleet. Lincoln
intended that the town should be de
fended until such reinforcements would
arrive from the North as, together
with the militia of the State, would
compel Clinton to raise the siege. As
the regular troops in the town did not
exceed fourteen hundred, a council of
war found that the garrison was too
weak to spare detachments to obstruct
the progress of the royal army. Only
a small party of cavalry and some light
troops were ordered to hover on its left
flank and observe its motions.
While these preparations for defence
were going on in Charleston, the British
army was cautiously but steadily ad
vancing towards the town. As he pro
ceeded, Clinton erected forts and formed
magazines at proper stations, and was
careful to secure his communications
with those forts and with the sea. All
the horses of the British army had per-

130

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ished in the tedious and stormy voyage
from New York to Savannah ; but on
landing in South Carolina, Clinton pro
cured others to mount his dragoons,
whom he formed into a light corps, un
der the command of Lieutenant-colonel
Tarleton. That officer was extremely
active in covering the left wing of the
army, and in dispersing the militia. In
one of his excursions he fell in with
Lieutenant-colonel William Washington,
who commanded the remnant of Bay
lor's regiment, and who beat him back
with loss.
On the 20th of March the British
fleet under Admiral Arbuthnot, con
sisting of one ship of fifty guns, two of
forty-four each, four of thirty-two each,
and an armed vessel, passed the bar in
front of Rebellion Road, and anchored
in Five Fathom Hole.
It being now thought impossible to
prevent the fleet from passing Fort
Moultrie, and taking such stations in
Cooper River as would enable them to
rake the batteries on shore, and to
close that communication between the
town and country, the plan of defence
was once more changed, and the armed
vessels were carried into the mouth of
Cooper River, and sunk in a line from
the town to Shute's Folly.
This was the critical moment for
evacuating the town. The loss of the
harbor rendered the defence of the
place, if not desperate, so improbable,
that the hope to maintain it could not
have been rationally entertained by a
person who was not deceived by the

expectation of aids much more consid
erable than were actually received.
When this state of things was com
municated to Washington, by Lieuten
ant-colonel Laurens, he said in reply :
" The impracticability of defending the
bar, I fear, amounts to the loss of the
town and garrison. At this distance it
is impossible to judge for you. I have
the greatest confidence in General Lin
coln's prudence; but it really appears
to me, that the propriety of attempting
to defend the town depended on the
probability of defending the bar ; and
that when this ceased, the attempt
ought to have been relinquished. In
this, however, I suspend a definitive
judgment, and wish you to consider
what I say as confidential." Unfor
tunately, this letter did not arrive in
time to influence the conduct of the be
sieged. On the 9th of April, Admiral Ar
buthnot, taking advantage of a strong
southerly wind and a flowing tide,
passed Fort Moultrie,* and anchored
just without reach of the guns of
Charleston. The fort kept up a heavy
fire on the fleet while passing, which
did some damage to the ships, and
killed or wounded twenty-seven men.
On the 29th of March the royal army
reached Ashley River, and crossed it
ten miles above the town without oppo
sition ; the garrison being too weak to
dispute the passage. Sir Henry Clin-
0 The, reader will recollect that Fort Moultrie received
its name from its defence by Colonel Moultrie in 1776
See Document [D] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

131

ton, having brought over his artillery,
baggage, and stores, marched down
Charleston Neck ; and, on the night of
the 1st of April, broke ground at the
distance of eight hundred yards from
the American works.
The fortifications of Charleston were
constructed under the direction of Mr.
Laumoy, a French engineer of reputa
tion in the American service ; and, al
though not calculated to resist a regular
siege, were by no means contemptible :
and Clinton made his approaches in due
form. Meanwhile the garrison received
a reinforcement of seven hundred con
tinentals under General Woodford ; and,
after this accession of strength, amount
ed to somewhat more than two thousand
regular troops, besides one thousand
militia of North Carolina, and the citi
zens of Charleston.
On the 9th of April, Clinton finished
his first parallel, forming an oblique
line between the two rivers, from six
hundred to one thousand one hundred
yards from the American works, and
mounted his guns in battery. He then,
jointly with the admiral, summoned
Lincoln to surrender the town. Lin
coln's answer was modest and firm : —
"Sixty days," said he, "have passed
since it has been known that your in
tentions against this town were hostile,
in which time was afforded to abandon
it; but duty and inclination point to
the propriety of supporting it to the
last extremity."
On receiving this answer, Clinton im
mediately opened his batteries ; and his

fire was soon felt to be superior to that
of the besieged. Hitherto the commu
nication with the country north of the
Cooper was open, and a post was estab
lished to prevent the investiture of the
town on that side. After the summons,
Governor Rutledge, with half of his
council, left the town for the purpose
of exercising the functions of the execu
tive government in the State, and in the
hope of being able to bring a large body
of the militia to act on the rear or left
flank of the besieging army but the
militia were as little inclined to embody
themselves as to enter the town.
For the purpose of maintaining the
communication with the country north
of the Cooper, of checking the British
foragers, and of protecting supplies on
their way to the town, the American
cavalry, under General Huger, had
passed the river and taken post at
Monk's Corner, thirty miles above
Charleston. Posts of militia were es
tablished between the Cooper and San-
tee, and at a ferry on the last named
river, where boats were ordered to be
collected in order to facilitate the pas
sage of the garrison, if it should be
found necessary to evacuate the town.
But Clinton defeated all these precau
tions. For as the possession of the har
bor rendered the occupation of the forts
to the southward unnecessary, he re
solved to call in the troops which had
been employed in that quarter, to close
the communication of the garrison with
the country to the northward, and to
complete the investiture of the town.

132

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book TV.

For these purposes, as the fleet was
unable to enter the Cooper River, he
deemed it necessary to dislodge the
American posts, and employed Tarleton
to beat up the quarters of General
Huger's cavalry at Monk's Corner. Con
ducted, during the night by a negro
slave, through unfrequented paths,
Tarleton proceeded towards the Ameri
can post; and, although General Hu
ger had taken the precaution of placing
sentinels a mile in front of his station,
and of keeping his horses saddled and
bridled, yet Tarleton advanced so rap
idly that, notwithstanding the alarm
was given by the outposts, he began
the attack before the Americans could
put themselves in a posture of defence ;
killed or took about thirty of them, and
dispersed the rest. General Huger,
Colonel Washington, and many others,
made good their retreat through the
woods. Such as escaped concealed
themselves for several days in the
swamps. The horses taken by the Brit
ish fell very seasonably into their hands,
as they were not well mounted. After
this decisive blow, it was some time be
fore any armed party of the Americans
ventured to show themselves south of
the Santee. That part of the country
was laid open to the British, who estab
lished posts in such a way as completely
to inclose the garrison. The arrival of
three thousand men from New York
greatly increased the strength of the
besiegers. The second parallel was completed ;
and it daily became more apparent that

the garrison must ultimately submit.
An evacuation of the town was pro
posed, and Lincoln seems to have been
favorable to the measure ; but the gar
rison could .scarcely have escaped, and
the principal inhabitants entreated the
general not to abandon them to the
fury of the enemy.
The British troops on the north of
the Cooper were increased, and Corn
wallis was appointed to command in
that quarter. On the 20th April, Gen
eral Lincoln again called a council of
war to deliberate on the measures to be
adopted. The council recommended a
capitulation; terms were offered, but
rejected; and hostilities recommenced.
After the besiegers had begun their
third parallel, Colonel Henderson made
a vigorous sally on their right, which
was attended with some success ; but,
owing to the weakness of the garrison,
this was the only attempt of the kind
during the siege.
After the fleet passed it, Fort Moul
trie became of much less importance
than before, and part of the garrison
was removed to Charleston. The ad
miral, perceiving the unfinished state of
the works on the west side, prepared to
storm it. On the 7th of May, every
thing being ready for the assault, he
summoned the garrison, consisting of
two hundred men, who, being convinced
of their inability to defend the place,
surrendered themselves prisoners of war
without firing a gun. On the same day,
the cavalry which had escaped from
Monk's Corner, and which had reassem-

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

133

bled under the command of Colonel
White, were again surprised and de
feated by Colonel Tarleton. After
Cornwallis had passed the Cooper, and
made himself master of the peninsula
between that river and the Santee, he
occasionally sent out small foraging
parties. Apprised of that circumstance,
Colonel White repassed the Santee, fell
in with and took one of those parties,
and dispatched an express to Colonel
Buford, who commanded a regiment of
new levies from Virginia, requesting
him to cover his retreat across the San
tee at Lanneau's Ferry, where he had
ordered some boats to be collected to
carry his party over the river. Colonel
White reached the ferry before Buford's
arrival, and thinking himself in no im
mediate danger, halted to refresh his
party. Cornwallis, having received no
tice of his incursion, dispatched Tarleton
in pursuit, who, overtaking him a few
minutes after he had halted, instantly
charged him, killed or took about thirty
of the party, and dispersed the rest.
Charleston was now completely in
vested ; all hopes of assistance had been
cruelly disappointed, and the garrison
and inhabitants were left to their own
resources. The troops were exhausted
by incessant duty, and insufficient to
man the lines. Many of the guns were
dismounted, the shot nearly expended,
and the bread and meat almost entirely
consumed. The works of the besiegers
were pushed very near the defences of
the town, and the issue of an assault
was extremely hazardous to the garri-
Vol. n.— 18

son and inhabitants. In these critical
circumstances, General Lincoln sum
moned a council of war, which recom
mended a capitulation. Terms were
accordingly proposed, offering to sur
render the town and garrison, on con
dition that the militia and armed citi
zens should not be prisoners of war, but
should be allowed to return home with
out molestation. These terms were re
fused : hostilities were recommenced,
and preparations for an assault were in
progress. The citizens, who had for
merly remonstrated against the depart
ure of the garrison, now became clam
orous for a surrender. In this hopeless
state, Lincoln offered to give up the
place on the terms which Clinton had
formerly proposed. The offer was ac
cepted, and the capitulation was signed
on the 12th of May.
The town and fortifications, the ship
ping, artillery, and all public stores,
were to be given up as they then were ;
the garrison, consisting of the conti
nental troops, militia, sailors, and citi
zens who had borne arms during the
siege, were to be prisoners of war ; the
garrison were to march out of the town
and lay down their arms in front of the
works, but their drums were not to beat
a British march, and their colors were
not to be uncased; the continental
troops and sailors were to be conducted
to some place afterwards to be agreed
on, where they were to be well supplied
with wholesome provisions until ex
changed ; the militia were to be allowed
to go home on parole ; the officers were

134

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

to retain their arms, baggage, and ser
vants, and they might sell their horses,
but were not permitted to take them
out of Charleston ; neither the persons
nor property of the militia or citizens
were to be molested, so long as they
kept their parole.*
On these terms the garrison of
Charleston marched out and laid down
their arms, and General Leslie was ap
pointed by Clinton to take possession
of the town. The siege was more ob
stinate than bloody. The besiegers had
seventy-six men killed and one hundred
and eighty-nine wounded ; the besieged
had ninety-two killed and one hundred
and forty-eight wounded : about twenty
of the inhabitants were killed in their
houses by random shots. The num
ber of prisoners reported by Clinton
amounted to upwards of five thousand,
exclusive of sailors ; but in that return
all the freemen of the town capable of
bearing arms, as well as the continental
soldiers and militia, were included. The
number of continental troops in the
town amounted only to seventeen hun
dred and seventy-seven, about five hun
dred of whom were in the hospital.
The effective strength of the garrison
was between two thousand and three
thousand men. The besieging army

c It will be seen in the sequel that these terms were
basely violated. The men and officers who had surren
dered prisoners of war were compelled to enter the British
service, robbed of their property, sent to prison-ships,
and the army and the citizens subjected to every species
of outrage. This conduct of the British was mainly in
strumental in their final ignominious expulsion from the
Southern States.

consisted of about nine thousand of the
best of the British troops.
After the British got possession of
the town, the arms taken from the
Americans, amounting to five thousand
stand, were lodged in a laboratory, near
a large quantity of cartridges and loose
powder. By incautiously snapping the
muskets and pistols, the powder ignited
and blew up the house, and the burn
ing fragments, which were scattered in
all directions, set fire to the workhouse,
jail, and old barracks, and consumed
them. The British guard stationed at
the place, consisting of fifty men, was
destroyed, and about as many other
persons lost their lives on the disastrous
occasion. Clinton carried on the siege in a cau
tious but steady and skilful manner.
Lincoln was loaded with undeserved
blame by many of his countrymen, for
he conducted the defence as became a
brave and intelligent officer. The error
lay in attempting to defend the town ;
but, in the circumstances in which Lin
coln was placed, he was almost unavoid
ably drawn into that course. It was
the desire of the State that the capital
should be defended ; and Congress, as
well as North and South Carolina, had
encouraged him to expect that his army
would be increased to nine thousand
men, — a force which might have success
fully resisted all the efforts of the royal
army. But neither Congress nor the
Carolinas were able to fulfil the prom
ises which they had made, for the mili
tia were extremely backward in taking

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

135

the field, and the expected number of
continentals could not be furnished.
Lincoln, therefore, was left to defend
the place with only about one-third of
the force which he had been encour
aged to expect. At any time before
the middle of April he might have
evacuated the town ; but the civil au
thority then opposed his retreat, which
soon afterwards became difficult, and
ultimately impracticable.
At General Lincoln's request, Con
gress passed a resolve, directing the
commander-in-chief to cause an inqui
ry to be made concerning the loss of
Charleston, and the conduct of Gen
eral Lincoln while commanding in the
southern department. Washington, who
knew Lincoln's merit well, determined
to give Congress time for reflection be
fore adopting any measure which had
the least appearance of censure. The
following extract from his letter to the
President of Congress (10th July, 1780),
points out clearly the impropriety of
the hasty proceedings which had been
proposed in regard to this able and de
serving officer :
" At this time," Washington writes,
" I do not think that the circumstances
of the campaign would admit, at any
rate, an inquiry to be gone into respect
ing the loss of Charleston ; but, if it
were otherwise, I do not see that it
could be made so as to be completely
satisfactory either to General Lincoln
or to the public, unless some gentlemen
could be present who have been acting
in that quarter. This, it seems, would

be necessary on the occasion, and the
more so as I have not a single docu
ment or paper in my possession con
cerning the department, and a copy of
the instructions and orders which they
may have been pleased to give General
Lincoln from time to time, and of their
correspondence. And besides the rea
sons against the inquiry at this time,
General Lincoln being a prisoner of
war, his situation, it appears to me,
must preclude one till he is exchanged,
supposing every other obstacle were
out of the question. If Congress think
proper, they will be pleased to trans
mit to me such papers as they may
have which concern the matters of in
quiry, that there may be no delay in
proceeding in the business when other
circumstances will permit."*
The fall of Charleston was matter of
much exultation to the British, and
spread a deep gloom over the aspect of
American affairs. The southern army
was lost ; and, although small, it could
not soon be replaced. In the southern
parts of the union there had always
been a considerable number of persons
friendly to the claims of Britain. The
success of her arms roused all their
lurking partialities, gave decision to the
conduct of the wavering, encouraged
the timid, drew over to the British
cause all those who are ever ready to
take part with the strongest, and dis
couraged and intimidated the friends of
Congress.

° See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

136

LLFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book rV.

Clinton was perfectly aware of the
important advantage which he had
gained ; and resolved to keep up and
deepen the impression on the public
mind, by the rapidity of his movements
and the appearance of his troops in
different parts of the country. For
that purpose he sent a strong detach
ment, under Cornwallis, over the San
tee, towards the frontier of North Car
olina. He dispatched an inferior force,
into the centre of the province; and
sent a third up the Savannah to Au
gusta. These detachments were in
structed to disperse any small parties
that still remained in arms, and to show
the people that the British troops were
complete masters of South Carolina and
Georgia. Soon after passing the Santee, Corn
wallis was informed that Colonel Bu
ford was lying, with four hundred men,
in perfect security, near the border of
North Carolina. He immediately dis
patched Colonel Tarleton, with his cav
alry, named the Legion, to surprise that
party. After performing a march of
one hundred and four miles in fifty-four
hours, Tarleton, at the head of seven
hundred men, overtook Buford on his
march, at the Waxhaws, and ordered
him to surrender, offering him the same
terms which had been granted to the
garrison of Charleston. On Buford's
refusal, Tarleton instantly charged the
party, who were dispirited, and unpre
pared for such an onset. Most of them
threw down their arms, and made no
resistance ; but a few continued firing ;

and an indiscriminate slaughter ensued
of those who had submitted as well as
of those who had resisted. Many begged
for quarter, but no quarter was given.
Tarletonls quarter became proverbial
throughout the Union, and certain
ly rendered some subsequent conflicts
more fierce and bloody than they would
otherwise have been. Buford and a
few horsemen forced their way through
the enemy and escaped : some of the
infantry, also, who were somewhat in
advance, saved themselves by flight, but
the regiment was almost annihilated.
Tarleton stated that one hundred and
thirteen were killed on the spot ; one
hundred and fifty left on parole, so
badly wounded that they could not be
removed ; and fifty-three brought away
as prisoners. So feeble was the resist
ance made by the Americans, that the
British had only twelve men killed and
five wounded. The slaughter on this
occasion excited much indignation in
America. The British endeavored to
justify their conduct, by asserting that
the Americans resumed theii* arms after
having pretended to submit ; but such
of the American officers as escaped from
the carnage denied the allegation. For
this exploit, Tarleton was highly praised
by Cornwallis.
After the defeat of Buford, there
-were no parties in South Carolina or
Georgia capable of resisting the royal
detachments. The force of Congress in-
those provinces seemed annihilated, and
the spirit of opposition among the in
habitants was greatly subdued. Many,

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

137

thinking it vain to contend against a
power which they were unable to with
stand, took the oath of allegiance to the
king, or gave their parole not to bear
arms against him.
In order to secure the entire submis
sion of that part of the country, military
detachments were stationed at the most
commanding points ; and measures were
pursued for settling the civil administra
tion, and for consolidating the conquest
of the provinces. So fully was Clinton
convinced of the subjugation of the
country, and of the sincere submission
of the inhabitants, or of their inability
to resist, that, on the 3d of June, he
issued a proclamation, in which, after
stating that all persons should take an
active part in settling and securing his
majesty's government, and in delivering
the country from that anarchy which
for some time had prevailed, he dis
charged from their parole the militia
who were prisoners, except those only
who had been taken in Charleston and
Fort Moultrie, and restored them to all
the rights and duties of inhabitants : he
also declared that such as should neg
lect to return to their allegiance should
be treated as enemies and rebels.
This proclamation was unjust and im
politic : proceeding on the supposition
that the people of those provinces were
subdued rebels, restored by an act of
clemency to the privileges and duties
of citizens ; and forgetting that for up
wards of four years they had been ex
ercising an independent authority, and
that the issue of the war only could

stamp on them the character of patriots
or rebels. It might easily have been
foreseen that the proclamation was to
awaken the resentment and alienate the
affections of those to whom it was ad
dressed. Many of the colonists had
submitted, in the fond hope of being
released, under the shelter of the Brit
ish government, from that harassing
service to which they had lately been
exposed, and of being allowed to attend
to their own affairs in a state of peace
ful tranquillity ; but the proclamation
dissipated this delusion, and opened
their eyes to their real situation. Neu
trality and peace were what they de
sired ; but neutrality and peace were
denied them. If they did not range
themselves under the standards of Con
gress, they must, as British subjects,
appear as militia in the royal service.
The people sighed for peace ; but, on
finding that they must fight on one side
or the other, they preferred the banners
of their country, and thought they had
as good a right to violate the allegiance
and parole which Clinton had imposed
on them, as he had to change their state
from that of prisoners to that of British
subjects without their consent. They
imagined that the proclamation released
them from all antecedent obligations.
Not a few, without any pretence of rea
soning on the subject, deliberately re
solved to act a deceitful part, and to
make professions of submission and al
legiance to the British government so
long as they found it convenient, but
with the resolution of joining the stand-

138

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ards of their country on the first oppor
tunity. Such duplicity and falsehood
ought always to be reprobated ; but the
unsparing rapacity with which the in
habitants were plundered made many
of them imagine that no means of de
ception and vengeance were unjustifi
able. Hitherto the French fleets and troops
had not afforded much direct assistance
to the Americans, but they had im
peded and embarrassed the operations
of the British commander-in-chief. He
had intended to sail against Charleston
so early as the month of September,
1779, but the expected appearance of
Count D'Estaing on the southern coast
had detained him at New York till the
latter part of December. It was his
intention, after the reduction of Charles
ton, vigorously to employ the whole of
his force in the subjugation of the ad
jacent provinces ; but information, re
ceived about the time of the surrender
of the town, that Monsieur de Ternay,
with a fleet and troops from France,
was expected on the American coast,
deranged his plan, and induced him to
return to New York with the greater
part of his army, leaving Cornwallis at
the head of four thousand men to pros
ecute the southern conquests. Clinton
sailed from Charleston on the 5th of
June. After the reduction of Charleston,
and the entire defeat of all the Ameri
can detachments in those parts, an unu
sual calm ensued for six weeks. Ima
gining that South Carolina and Georgia

were reannexed to the British empire
in sentiment as well as in appearance,
Cornwallis now meditated an attack on
North Carolina. Impatient, however,
as he was of repose, he could not carry
his purpose into immediate execution.
The great heat, the want of magazines,
and the impossibility of subsisting his
army in the field before harvest, com
pelled him to pause. But the interval
was not lost. He distributed his troops
in such a manner in South Carolina and
the upper parts of Georgia, as seemed
most favorable to the enlistment of
young men who could be prevailed on
to join the royal standard ; he ordered
companies of royal militia to be formed ;
and he maintained a correspondence
with such of the inhabitants of Nt)rth
Carolina as were friendly to the British
cause. He informed them of the neces
sity he was under of postponing the
expedition into their country, and ad
vised them to attend to their harvest
and to remain quiet till the royal army
advanced to support them. Eager, how
ever, to manifest their zeal, and enter
taining sanguine hopes of success, cer
tain tories disregarded his salutary
advice, and broke out into premature
insurrections, which were vigorously re
sisted and generally suppressed by the
patriots, who were the more numerous
and determined party. But one band
of tories, amounting to eight hundred
men, under a Colonel Bryan, marched
down the Yadkin to a British post at
the Cheraws, and afterwards reached
Camden.

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

139

The people of North Carolina were
likely to prove much more intractable
than those of South Carolina and Geor
gia. They were chiefly descendants of
Scotch-Irish settlers, — stern Presbyte
rians and ardent lovers of liberty.
When Tryon was their governor, they
had resisted his tyranny under the
name of Regulators, and at Mecklen
burg had published a declaration of
independence more than a year before
Congress took the same attitude of de
fiance. Such were the North Caroli
nians ; and their State was destined to
be the scene of many battles in which
the power of Britain was bravely re
sisted. Having made the necessary disposi
tions, Cornwallis intrusted the command
on the frontier to Lord Rawdon, and
returned to Charleston in order to or
ganize the civil government of the prov
ince, and to establish such regulations
as circumstances required. But Corn
wallis showed himself more a soldier
than a politician, and more a tyrant
than either. Instead of endeavoring to
regain, by kindness and conciliation, the
good-will of a people whose affections
were alienated from the cause in which
he was engaged, Cornwallis attempted
to drive them into allegiance by harsh
ness and severity. Indeed, many of the
British officers viewed the Americans
merely in the light of rebels and trai
tors, whose lives it was indulgence to
spare ; treated them not only with in
justice, but with insolence and insult
more intolerable than injustice itself;

and exercised a rigor which greatly in
creases the miseries without promoting
the legitimate purposes of war.
By the capitulation of Charleston,
the citizens were prisoners on parole ;
but successive proclamations were pub
lished, each abridging the privileges of
prisoners more than that which had
gone before. A board of police was
established for the administration of
justice, and before that board British
subjects were allowed to sue for debts,
but prisoners were denied that privi
lege ; they were liable to prosecution
for debts, but had no security for what
was owing them, except the honor of
their debtors ; and that, in many in
stances, was found a feeble guarantee.
If they complained, they were threat
ened with close confinement : numbers
were imprisoned in the town, and others
consigned to dungeons at a distance
from their families. In short, every
method, except that of kindness and
conciliation, was resorted to in order to
compel the people to become British
subjects. A few, who had always been
well affected to the royal cause, cheer
fully returned to their allegiance, and
many followed the same course from
convenience. To abandon their fami
lies and estates, and encounter all the
privations of fugitives, required a de
gree of patriotism and fortitude which
few possessed.
In that melancholy posture of Ameri
can affairs, many of the ladies of Charles
ton displayed a remarkable degree of
zeal and intrepidity in the cause of their

140

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

country. They gloried in the appella
tion of rebel ladies, and declined invita
tions to public entertainments given by
the British officers, but crowded to
prison-ships and other places of confine
ment to solace their suffering country
men. While they kept back from the
concerts and assemblies of the victors,
they were forward in showing sympa
thy and kindness towards American
officers wherever they met them. They
exhorted their brothers, husbands, and
sons to an unshrinking endurance in
behalf of their country, and cheerfully
became the inmates of their prison and
the companions of their exile, — volun
tarily renouncing affluence and ease,
and encountering labor, penury, and
privation. For some time the rigorous measures
of the British officers in South Carolina
seemed successful, and a death-like still
ness prevailed in the province. The
clangor of arms ceased, and no enemy
to British authority appeared. The peo
ple of the lower parts of South Carolina
were generally attached to the revolu
tion, but many of their most active
leaders were prisoners. The fall of
Charleston and the subsequent events
had sunk many into despondency, and
all were overawed. This gloomy still
ness continued about six weeks, when
the symptoms of a gathering storm be
gan to show themselves. The oppres
sion and insults to which the people
were exposed highly exasperated them :
they repented the apathy with which
they had seen the siege of Charleston

carried on ; and felt that the fall of
their capital, instead of introducing
safety and rural tranquillity, as they
had fondly anticipated, was only the
forerunner of insolent exactions and
oppressive services. Peaceful and un
disturbed neutrality was what they de
sired and what they had expected ; but
when they found themselves compelled
to fight, they chose to join the provin
cial banners, and the most daring only
waited an opportunity to show their
hostility to their new masters.
Such an opportunity soon presented
itself. In the end of March, Washing
ton dispatched the troops of Maryland
and Delaware, with a regiment of artil
lery, under the Baron de Kalb, to rein
force the southern army. That detach
ment met with many obstructions in its
progress southward. Such was the de
ranged state of the American finances,
that it could not be put in motion when
the order was given. After setting out,
it marched through Jersey and Penn
sylvania, embarked at the head of Elk
River, was conveyed by water to Pe
tersburgh in Virginia, and proceeded
thence towards the place of its
, . . -„ 1T80.
destination. But as no maga
zines had been provided, and as provis
ions could with difficulty be obtained,
the march of the detachment through
North Carolina was greatly retarded.
Instead of advancing rapidly, the troops
were obliged to spread themselves over
the country in small parties, in order to
collect corn and to get it ground for
their daily subsistence. In this way

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

141

they proceeded slowly through the up
per and more fertile parts of North
Carolina to Hillsborough, and were pre
paring to march by Cross Creek to
Salisbury, where they expected to be
joined by the militia of North Caro
lina. The approach of this detachment,
together with information that great
exertions were making to raise troops
in Virginia, encouraged the irritation
which the rigorous measures of the
British officers had occasioned in South
Carolina ; and numbers of the inhab
itants of that State, who had fled from
their homes and taken refuge in North
Carolina and Virginia, informed of the
growing discontents in their native
State, and relying on the support of
regular troops, assembled on the fron
tier of North Carolina.
About two hundred of these refu
gees chose Colonel Sumter, an old con
tinental officer, called by his comrades
the " Game-cock," as their leader. On
the advance of the British into the
upper parts of South Carolina, this gen
tleman had fled into North Carolina,
but had left his family behind. Soon
after his departure a British party ar
rived, turned his wife and family out of
door, and burned his house and every
thing in it. This harsh and unfeeling
treatment excited his bitterest resent
ment, which operated with the more
virulence by being concealed under the
fair veil of patriotism.
At the head of his little band, with
out money or magazines, and but ill
Vol. II.— 19

provided with arms and ammunition,
Sumter made an irruption into South
Carolina. Iron implements of husband
ry were forged by common blacksmiths
into rude weapons of war ; and pewter
dishes, procured from private families
and melted down, furnished part of
their supply of balls.
This little band skirmished with the
royal militia, and with small parties of
regular troops, — sometimes successfully,
and always with the active courage of
men fighting for the recovery of their
property. Sometimes they engaged when they
had not more than three rounds of shot
each ; and, occasionally, some of them
were obliged to keep at a distance, till,
by the fall of friends or foes, they could
be furnished with arms and ammuni
tion. When successful, the field of bat
tle supplied them with materials for the
next encounter.
This party soon increased to six hun
dred men ; and, encouraged by its
daring exertions, a disposition mani
fested itself throughout South Carolina
again to appeal to arms. Some compa
nies of royal nrilitia, embodied under
the authority of Cornwallis, deserted to
Sumter, and ranged themselves under
his standard.
Cornwallis beheld this change with
surprise : he had thought the conflict
ended, and the southern provinces com
pletely subdued; but, to his astonish
ment, saw that past victories were una
vailing, and that the work yet remained
to be accomplished. He was obliged

142

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

to call in his outposts, and to form his
troops into larger bodies.
But Cornwallis was soon threatened
by a more formidable enemy than Sum
ter, who, though an active and audacious
leader, commanded only an irregular and
feeble band, and was capable of enga
ging only in desultory enterprises. Con
gress, sensible of the value and import
ance of the provinces which the British
had overrun, made every effort to re
inforce the southern army ; and, fully
aware of the efficacy of public opinion
and of the influence of high reputation,
on the 13th of June appointed General
Gates to command it. He had acquired
a splendid name by his triumphs over
Burgoyne ; and the populace, whose
opinions are formed by appearances
and fluctuate with the rumors of the day,
anticipated a success equally brilliant.*
On receiving notice of his appoint
ment to the command of the southern
army, Gates, who had been living in
retirement on his estate in Virginia,
proceeded southward without delay,
and on the 25th of July reached the
camp at Buffalo Ford, on Deep River,
where he was received by De Kalb
with respect and cordiality. The army
consisted of about two thousand men,
and considerable reinforcements of mili
tia from North Carolina and Virginia
0 Washington, who had long ago taken the measure
of Gates's capacity, was desirous that Greene should re
ceive the appointment to the command of the southern
army at this time ; but his wishes were overruled by
Congress. Had Greene been appointed, or even had De
Kalb been left in command, the campaign of 1780 would
have been quite another affair.

were expected. In order that he might
lead his troops through a more plentiful
country, and for the purpose of estab
lishing magazines and hospitals at con
venient points, De Kalb had resolved
to turn out of the direct road to Cam
den. But Gates, in opposition to De
Kalb's advice, determined to pursue the
straight route towards the British en
campment, although it lay through a
barren country, which afforded but a
scanty subsistence to its inhabitants.
On the 27th of July he put his army
in motion, and soon experienced the
difficulties and privations which De
Kalb had been desirous to avoid. The
army was obliged to subsist chiefly on
poor cattle, accidentally found in the
woods ; and the supply of all kinds
of food was very limited. Meal and
corn were so scarce, that the men were
compelled to use unripe corn and peach
es instead of bread. That insufficient
diet, together with the intense heat and
unhealthy climate, engendered disease,
and threatened the destruction of the
army. Gates at length emerged from
the inhospitable region of pine-barrens,
sand-hills, and swamps ; and, after hav
ing effected a junction with General
Caswell, at the head of the militia of
North Carolina, and a small body of
troops under Lieutenant-colonel Porter-
field, he arrived at Clermont, or Ruge-
ly's Mills, on the 13th of August, and
next day was joined by the militia of
Virginia, amounting to seven hundred
men, under General Stevens.f
t See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

143

On the day after Gates arrived at
Rugely's Mills, he received an express
from Sumter, stating that a number of
the militia of South Carolina had joined
him on the west side of the Wateree,
and that an escort of clothes, ammuni
tion, and other stores, for the garrison
at Camden, was on its was from Ninety-
Six, and must pass the Wateree at a
ford covered by a small fort, not far
from Camden.
Gates immediately detached one hun
dred regular infantry and three hundred
militia of North Carolina to reinforce
Sumter, whom he ordered to reduce the
fort and intercept the convoy. Mean
while he advanced nearer Camden, with
the intention of taking a position about
seven miles from that place. For that
purpose, he put his army in motion at
ten in the evening of the 15th of Au
gust ; having sent his sick, heavy bag
gage, and military stores not immedi
ately wanted, under a guard to Wax-
haws. On the march, Colonel Ar-
mand's legion* composed the van ; Por-

° Charles Armand, Marquis de la Rouerie, was a
French officer of note when he entered our army as colo
nel in 1777, and was ordered to raise a corps of Frenchmen
not exceeding two hundred men. He served in Jersey
and Pennsylvania in 1777, and in Westchester County,
New York, in 1778, where he captured Major Baremore
and his loyalists, as mentioned in Washington's certif
icate below. In 1779 he was stationed at Ridgefield,
Connecticut, under General Robert Howe. He was sent
with a legion composed of his own and Pulaski's cavalry
to aid in Gates's southern expedition, as mentioned in
the text. In 1781 he went to France to obtain clothes
and equipments, and returned soon enough to assist at
the siege of Yorktown. Washington recommended him
strongly to Congress, who gave him the commission of
brigadier-general in the spring of 1783. He returned to
France in 1784 engaged in the French revolution, and

terfield's light infantry, reinforced by a
company of picked men from Stevens's
brigade, marching in Indian files, two
hundred yards from the road, covered
the right flank of the legion ; while Ma
jor Armstrong's light infantry of North
Carolina militia, reinforced in like' man
ner by General Caswell, in the same
order, covered the left. The Maryland
division, followed by the North Caro
lina and Virginia militia, with the artil
lery, composed the main body and rear
guard ; and the volunteer cavalry were
equally distributed on the flanks of the
baggage. The American army did not
exceed four thousand men, only about
nine hundred of whom were regular
troops, and seventy cavalry.
On the advance of Gates into South
Carolina, Lord Rawdon had called in
his outposts, and concentrated his force
at Camden. Informed of the appear
ance of the American army, and of the
took an active part. He died January 30th, 1793. On
the occasion of Colonel Armand's going to join the
southern army under Gates, Washington gave him the
following certificate under his own hand.
CERTIFICATE.
I certify that the Marquis de la Rouerie has served in
the army of the United States since the beginning of
1777, with the rank of colonel, during which time he has
commanded an independent corps with mifch honor to
himself and usefulness to the service. He has upon all
occasions conducted himself as an officer of distinguished
merit, of great zeal, activity, vigilance, intelligence, and
bravery. In the last campaign, particularly, he ren
dered very valuable services, and towards the close of it
made a brilliant partisan stroke, by which, with much
enterprise and address, he surprised a major and some
men of the enemy in quarters, at a considerable distance
within their pickets, and brought them off without loss
to his party. I give him this certificate in testimony of
my perfect approbation of his conduct, and esteem for
himself personally.

144

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

general defection of the country be
tween the Pedee and the Black River,
Cornwallis quitted Charleston and re
paired to Camden, where he arrived on
the same day that Gates reached Cler
mont. The* British force was reduced by
sickness, and Cornwallis could not as
semble, more than two thousand men at
Camden. That place, though advan
tageous in other respects, was not well
adapted for resisting an attack ; and as
the whole country was rising against
him, Cornwallis felt the necessity of
either retreating to Charleston, or of
instantly striking a decisive blow. If
he remained at Camden, his difficulties
would daily increase, his communication
with Charleston be endangered, and
the American army acquire additional
strength. A retreat to Charleston would
be the signal for the whole of South
Carolina and Georgia to rise in arms :
his sick and magazines must be left be
hind ; and the whole of the two prov
inces, except the towns of Charleston
and Savannah, abandoned. The conse
quences of such a movement would be
nearly as fatal as a defeat. Cornwallis,
therefore, although he believed the
American army considerably stronger
than what it really was, determined to
hazard a battle ; and, at ten at night,
on the 15th of August, the very hour
when Gates proceeded from Rugely's
Mills, about thirteen miles distant, he
marched towards the American camp.
About two in the morning of the 16th
of August, the advanced guards of the

hostile armies unexpectedly met in the
woods, and the firing instantly began.
Some of the cavalry of the American
advanced guard being wounded by the
first discharge, the party ^fell back in
confusion, broke the Maryland regiment
which was at the head of the column,
and threw the whole line of the army
into consternation. From that first im
pression, deepened by the gloom of
night, the raw and ill-disciplined militia
seem not to have recovered. In the
rencounter several prisoners were taken
on each side ; and from them the op
posing generals acquired a more exact
knowledge of circumstances than they
had hitherto possessed. Several skir
mishes happened during the night, which
merely formed a prelude to the ap
proaching battle, and gave the com
manders some notion of the position of
the hostile armies.
Cornwallis, perceiving that the Amer
icans were on ground of no great extent,
with morasses on their right and left, so
that they could not avail themselves of
their superior numbers to outflank his
little army, impatiently waited for the
returning light, which would give every
advantage to his disciplined troops.*
Both armies prepared for the conflict.
Cornwallis formed his men in two di
visions ; that on the right was under the
* Colonel Armand censured Gates's conduct on this
occasion severely. It is clear that he chose the ground
best suited for the enemy's purpose. "I will not say,"
Armand remarked, ' ' that the general contemplated
treason, but I will say, that if he had desired to betray
his army, he could not have chosen a more judicious
course. ' '

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

145

command of Li eutenant-colonel Webster,
that on the left under Lord Rawdon.
In front were four field-pieces. The
seventy-first regiment, with two cannon,
formed the reserve ; and the cavalry,
about three hundred in number, were
in the rear, ready to act as circumstan
ces might require.
In the American army, the second
Maryland brigade, under General Gist,
formed the right of the line ; the militia
of North Carolina, commanded by Gen
eral Caswell, occupied the centre ; and
the militia of Virginia, with the light
infantry and Colonel Armand's corps,
composed the left: the artillery was
placed between the divisions. The first
Maryland brigade was stationed as a
reserve, two hundred or three hundred
yards in the rear. Baron de Kalb com
manded on the right ; the militia gen
erals were at the head of their respec
tive troops ; and General Gates resolved
to appear wherever his presence might
be most useful.
At dawn of day Cornwallis ordered
Lieutenant-colonel Webster, with the
British right wing to attack the Amer
ican left. As Webster advanced, he
was assailed by a desultory discharge
of musketry from some volunteer militia
who had advanced in front of their
countrymen; but the British soldiers,
rushing through that loose fire, charged
the American line with a shout. The
militia instantly threw down their arms
and fled, many of them without even
discharging their muskets ; and all the
efforts of the officers were unable to

rally them. A great part of the centre
division, composed of the militia of
North Carolina, imitated the example of
their comrades of Virginia : few of either
of the divisions fired a shot, and still
fewer carried their arms off the field.
Tarleton with his legion pursued, and
eagerly cut down the unresisting fugi
tives. Gates, with some of the militia
general officers, made several attempts
to rally them, but in vain. The further
they fled the more they dispersed, and
Gates, in despair, hastened with a few
friends to Charlotte, eighty miles from
the field of battle.
De Kalb at the head of the continen
tals, being abandoned by the militia,
which had constituted the centre and
left wing of the army, and being for
saken by the general also, was exposed
to the attack of the whole British army.
De Kalb and his troops, however, in
stead of imitating the disgraceful ex
ample of their brethren in arms, be
haved with a steady intrepidity, and
defended themselves like men. Rawdon
attacked them about the time when
Webster broke the left wing ; but the
charge was firmly received and steadily
resisted, and the conflict was maintained
for some time with equal obstinacy on
both sides. The American reserve cov
ered the left of De Kalb's division ; but
its own left flank was entirely exposed
by the flight of the militia ; and there
fore Webster, after detaching some cav
alry and light troops in pursuit of the
fugitive militia, with the remainder of
his division attacked them at once in

146

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

front and flank. A severe contest en
sued. The Americans, in a great meas
ure intermingled with the British, main
tained a desperate conflict. Cornwallis
brought his whole force to bear upon
them : they were at length broken, and
began to retreat in confusion. The
brave De Kalb, while making a vigor
ous charge at the head of a body of his
men, fell pierced with eleven wounds.
His aid-de-camp, Lieutenant-colonel de
Buysson, embraced the fallen general,
announced his rank and nation to the
surrounding enemy, and while thus gen
erously exposing his own life to save
his bleeding friend, he received several
severe wounds, and was taken prisoner
with him. De Kalb met with all pos
sible attention and assistance from the
victorious enemy, but that gallant offi
cer expired in a few hours. Congress
afterwards ordered a monument to be
erected to his memory.
Never was victory more complete,
or defeat more total. Every regiment
was broken and dispersed through the
wroods, marshes, and brushwood, which
at once saved them from their pursuers
and separated them more entirely from
each other. The officers lost sight of
their men, and every individual en
deavored to save himself in the best
way he was able. The British cavalry
pursued : and for many miles the roads
were strewed with the wrecks of a ru
ined army. Wagons or fragments of
wagons, arms, dead or maimed horses,
dead or wounded soldiers, were every
where seen. General Rutherford of the

North Carolina militia was made pris
oner; but the other general officers
reached Charlotte at different times and
by different routes.
About two hundred wagons, a great
part of the baggage, military stores,
small-arms, and all the artillery, fell
into the hands of the conquerors. This
decisive victory cost the British only
eighty men killed and two hundred and
forty-five wounded. Eight hundred or
nine hundred of the Americans were
killed or wounded, and about one thou
sand taken prisoners. The militia en
deavored to save themselves by flight
the continentals alone fought, and al
most half their number fell.
While the army under Gates was
completely defeated and dispersed, Co
lonel Sumter was successful in his enter
prise. On the evening in which Corn
wallis marched from Camden, he re
duced the redoubt on the Wateree, took
the stores on their way to Camden, and
made about one hundred prisoners. On
hearing, however, of the disastrous fate
of the army under Gates, Sumter, fully
aware of his danger, retreated hastily
with his stores and prisoners up the
south side of the Wateree. On the
morning of the seventeenth, Cornwallis
sent Tarleton, with the legion and a
detachment of infantry, in pursuit of
him. That officer proceeded with his
usual rapidity. Finding many of his
infantry unable to keep pace with him,
he advanced with about one hundred
cavalry and sixty of the most vigorous
of the infantry ; and, on the eighteenth,

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Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

147

suddenly and unexpectedly came upon
the Americans.
Sumter, having marched with great
diligence, thought himself beyond the
reach of danger; and his men being
exhausted by unremitting service and
want of sleep, he halted near the Ca
tawba ford, to give them some repose
during the heat of the day. In order
to prevent a surprise, he had placed
sentinels at proper stations to give warn
ing of approaching danger; but, over
come by fatigue and equally regardless
of duty and safety, the sentinels fell
asleep at their post, and gave no alarm.
Tarleton suddenly burst into the en
campment of the drowsy and unsuspect
ing Americans ; and, though some slight
resistance was at first made from behind"
the baggage, soon gained a complete
victory. The Americans fled precipi
tately towards the river or the woods.
Between three hundred and four hun
dred of them were killed or wounded.
Sumter escaped, galloping off on horse
back, without coat, hat, or saddle ; but
all his baggage fell into the hands of
the enemy, while the prisoners and
stores which he had taken were recov
ered. About one hundred and fifty of
his men made good their retreat.*
By the complete defeat and disper
sion of the army under Gates, and of
Sumter's corps, South Carolina and
Georgia appeared to be again laid pros
trate at the feet of the royal army, and
the hope of maintaining their inde-
» See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

pendence seemed more desperate than
ever. Affairs did not seem desperate, how
ever, to Washington. He knew the
defensible nature of the country, — inter
sected in every direction by rivers and
swamps, and affording every facility for
partisan warfare against regular troops ;
and he knew that the infamous conduct
of the British in the South had thor
oughly roused the indignation of the
people. While Gates was gathering
together a new army and stationing
detachments in different posts near
Hillsborough, Washington received in
telligence of the disastrous battle of
Camden. The sad news came unex
pectedly, as the previous reports had
given hopes of some brilliant feat on
the part of Gates. The unlooked-for
disaster, however, did not for a moment
dishearten Washington. He was fully
aware of the determination of the Brit
ish to conquer the South, and if possible
to detach it from the confederacy ; and
he was determined on his part to defeat
their purpose. This was to be done
chiefly by rousing the South itself to
action, since the position of affairs at
the North did not admit of large de
tachments from the force under his own
immediate command. He ordered, how
ever, that some regular troops enlisted
in Maryland for the war should be sent
to the southward. To show how atten
tive he was to all the details of the
necessary measures for defending the
South, we copy his letter of September
12th, to Governor Rutledge of South

148

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book D7.

1780.

Carolina, who had been armed with
dictatorial power by the legislature of
that State* "I am fully im
pressed," he writes, "with the
importance of the Southern States, and
of course with the necessity of making
every effort to expel the enemy from
them. The late unlucky affair near
Camden renders their situation more
precarious, and calls for every exertion
to stop at least the further progress of
the British army. It is to be wished
that the composition of our force in this
quarter, our resources, and the present
situation of the fleet and army of our
ally would admit of an immediate and
sufficient detachment, not only to an
swer the purpose I have just mentioned,
but to carry on operations of a more
serious and extensive nature. But this
not being the case, for reasons which
must be obvious to you, let it suffice
that your Excellency be informed that
our views tend ultimately to the south
ward. " In the mean time, our endeavors in
that quarter should be directed rather
to checking the progress of the enemy
by a permanent, compact, and well-or
ganized body of men, than attempting
immediately to recover the State of
South Carolina by a numerous army of
militia, who, besides being inconceiva
bly expensive, are too fluctuating and
undisciplined to oppose one composed
chiefly of regular troops. I would rec
ommend to you, therefore, to make use
* Sparks, Writings of Washington, vol. vii. p. 201.

of your influence with the States from
Maryland southward, to raise without
delay at least five thousand men, for
the war, if it can be effected ; if not, for
as long a time as possible. These, with
the militia in the vicinity, would answer
the purpose I have last mentioned, and
would in proper time make a useful
body, either to form a diversion in fa
vor of, or to co-operate with, a force
upon the coast.
" I have hinted the outlines of a plan
to your Excellency, which for many rea
sons should be in general kept to your
self. You will oblige me by informing
yourself, as accurately as possible, what
may be the present resources of the
country, as to meat, corn, wheat, or rice,
and transportation, as I suppose circum
stances may have occasioned a consider
able change. And if it is possible to
form magazines of either, it should be
done, especially of salt meat, which is
an article so essential to military opera
tions, that the States of Virginia and
North Carolina should be requested to
lay up, as soon as the weather will per
mit, at least four thousand barrels, in
proportion to their respective ability.
You will also be pleased to endeavor to
gain a knowledge of the force of the
enemy, the posts they occupy, the na
ture and state of those posts, and the
reinforcements they may probably de
rive from the people of the country.
As you receive these several intelligen
ces, you will be pleased to communicate
them to me, with your opinion of the
best place for debarking troops, in case

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

149

of an expedition against the enemy in
the Southern States, and the names of
the persons in that quarter whose opin
ion and advice may be serviceable in
such an event."
In the following extract from a letter
to Count de Guichen in the West In
dies, September 12, 1780, we have from
Washington a view of the general state
of affairs after the battle of Camden.
Its object was to induce the French
admiral to come immediately to the
United States. The letter did not reach
the West Indies until De Guichen had
sailed to France.
"The situation of America," Wash
ington writes, " at this time is critical.
The government is without finances.
Its paper credit is sunk, and no expedi
ents can be adopted capable of retriev
ing it. The resources of the country
are much diminished by a five years'
war, in which it has made efforts be
yond its ability. Clinton, with an army
of ten thousand regular troops (aided
by a considerable body of militia, whom,
from motives of fear and attachment,
he has engaged to take arms), is in pos
session of one of the capital towns, and
a large part of the State to which it
belongs. The savages are desolating
the frontiers. A fleet, superior to that
of our allies, not only protects the ene
my against any attempt of ours, but
facilitates those which they may project
against us. Lord Cornwallis, with seven
or eight thousand men, is in complete
possession of two States, Georgia and
South Carolina ; and, by recent misfor-
Vol. II.— 20

tunes, North Carolina is at his mercy.
His force is daily increasing by an ac
cession of adherents, whom his successes
naturally procure in a country inhab
ited by emigrants from England and
Scotland, who have not been long
enough transplanted to exchange their
ancient habits and attachments in favor
of their new residence.
"By a letter received from General
Gates, we learn that, in attempting to
penetrate and regain the State of South
Carolina, he met with a total defeat
near Camden, in which many of his
troops have been cut off, and the re
mainder dispersed, with the loss of all
their cannon and baggage. The enemy
are said to be now making a detach
ment from New York for a southern
destination. If they push their suc
cesses in that quarter, we cannot pre
dict where their career may end. The
opposition will be feeble, unless we can
give succor from hence, which, from a
variety of causes, must depend on a na
val superiority."
The remainder of the letter gives
more details, and urges the admiral to
give his aid to the United States.
It will be recollected by the reader
that Gates, when in the height of his
glory, did not make any report to Wash
ington of the surrender of Burgoyne.
This was in the days of the Conway
Cabal. He then slighted, and almost
insulted the Great Commander, whom,
it is not improbable, he hoped to super
sede. But, in the hour of disaster and
defeat, it was to Washington himself

150

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV,

that he turned for help, protection, and
countenance. He is prompt enough
with his official report now, although
he writes his first dispatch to Congress,
in order that his apology may be pub
lished. The following letter to Wash
ington is dated at Hillsborough, August
30th, 1780 :*
" My public letter to Congress has
surely been transmitted to your Excel
lency. Since then, I have been able to
collect authentic returns of the killed,
wounded, and missing of the officers of
the Maryland line, Delaware regiment,
artillerists, and those of the legion un
der Colonel Armand. They are in
closed. The militia broke so early in
the day, and scattered in so many di
rections upon their retreat, that very
few have fallen into the hands of the
enemy. " By the firmness and bravery of the
continental troops, the victory is far
from bloodless on the part of the foe,
they having upwards of five hundred
men, with officers in proportion, killed
and wounded. I do not think Lord
Cornwallis will be able to reap any ad
vantage of consequence from his vic
tory, as this State seems animated to
reinstate and support the army. Vir
ginia, I am confident, will not be less
patriotic. By the joint exertions of
these two States, there is good reason
to hope that, should the events of the
campaign be prosperous to your Excel
lency, all South Carolina might be again
° Sparks, Correspondence of the Revolution, vol. iii. p. 66.

recovered. Lord Cornwallis, remained
with his army at Camden when I re
ceived the last accounts from thence.
I am cantoning ours at Salisbury, Guil
ford, Hillsborough, and. Cross Creek.
The Maryland ers and artillerists, with
the general hospital, will be here ; the
cavalry near Cross Creek, and the mili
tia to the westward. This is absolutely
necessary, as we have no magazine of
provisions, and are only supplied from
hand to mouth. Four days after the
action of the 16th, fortune seemed de
termined to distress us ; for Colonel
Sumter, having marched near forty
miles up the river Wateree, halted with
the wagons and prisoners he had taken
the 15th: by some indiscretion the men
were surprised, cut off from their arms,
the whole routed, and the wagons and
prisoners retaken.
" What encouragement the numerous
disaffected in this State may give Lord
Cornwallis to advance further into the
country, I cannot yet say. Colonel
Sumter, since his surprise and defeat
upon the west side of the Wateree, has
reinstated and increased his corps to
upwards of one thousand men. I have
directed him to continue to harass the
enemy upon that side. Lord Cornwal
lis will therefore be cautious how he
makes any considerable movement to
the eastward, while this corps remains
in force upon his left flank, and the
main body is, in a manner, cantoned
in his front. Anxious for the public
good, I shall continue my unwearied
endeavors to stop the progress of the

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

enemy, to reinstate our affairs, to re
commence an offensive war, and recover
all our losses in the Southern States.
But if being unfortunate is solely rea
son sufficient for removing me from
command, I shall most cheerfully sub
mit to the orders of Congress, and re
sign an office few generals would be
anxious to possess, and where the ut
most skill and fortitude are subject to
be baffled by the difficulties which must
for a time surround the chief in com
mand here. That your Excellency may
meet with no such difficulties ; that
your road to fame and fortune may be
smooth and easy, is the sincere wish
of, sir, your Excellency's most obedi
ent, &c."
In the following extract from a letter
of the 3d of September, he again calls
Washington's attention to his own pit
iable case : " If I can yet render good
service to the United States," he writes,
" it will be necessary it should be seen
that I have the support of Congress and
your Excellency ; otherwise some men
may think they please my superiors by
blaming me, and thus recommend them
selves to favor. But you, sir, will be
too generous to lend an ear to such
men, if such there be, and will show
your greatness of soul rather by pro
tecting than slighting the unfortunate.
If, on the contrary, I am not supported,
and countenance is given to every one
who will speak disrespectfully of me, it
will be better for Congress to remove
me at once from where I shall be una
ble to render them any good service.

This, sir, I submit to your candor and
honor, and shall cheerfully await the
decision of my superiors. With the
warmest wishes for your prosperity,
and the sincerest sentiments of esteem
and regard, I am, sir, your Excellency's
most obedient, humble servant."
Notwithstanding these letters and
any friendly help which Washington
may have rendered to his fallen rival,
the fickle Congress, as we shall present
ly see, deserted at his utmost need the
man whom they had advanced against
Washington's advice.*
After the battle of Camden, Corn
wallis was unable to follow up the vic
tory with his usual activity. His little
army was diminished by the sword and
by disease. He had not brought with
him from Charleston the stores neces
sary for a long march ; and he did not
deem it expedient to leave South Caro
lina till he had suppressed that spirit of
resistance to his authority which had
extensively manifested itself in the prov
ince. In order to consummate, as he
thought, the subjugation of the State,
he resorted to measures of great injus
tice and cruelty. He considered the
province as a conquered country, re
duced to unconditional submission, and
to allegiance to its ancient sovereign,
and the people liable to the duties of
British subjects, and to corresponding
penalties in case of a breach of those
duties. He forgot, or seemed to forget,
that many of them had been received
° See Document [E] at the end of this chapter.

152

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

as prisoners of war on parole ; that, with
out their consent, their parole had been
discharged ; and that, merely by a proc
lamation, they had been declared British
subjects instead of prisoners of war.
In a few days after the battle of
Camden, when Cornwallis thought the
country was lying prostrate at his feet,
he addressed the following letter to the
commandant of the British garrison at
Ninety-Six : " I have given orders that
all the inhabitants of this province who
have subscribed, and taken part in the
revolt, should be punished with the ut
most rigor ; and also those who will not
turn out, that they may be imprisoned,
and their whole property taken from
them or destroyed. I have also ordered
that compensation should be made out
of these estates to the persons who have
been injured or oppressed by them. I
have ordered, in the most positive man
ner, that every militiaman who has
borne arms with us, and afterwards
joined the enemy, shall be immediately
hanged. I desire you will take the
most vigorous measures to punish the
rebels in the district you command, and
that you obey, in the strictest manner,
the directions I have given in this letter
relative to the inhabitants of the coun
try." Similar orders were given to the
commanders of other posts.*
0 The orders of Rawdon and Cornwallis to the subor
dinates to treat the Americans in this cruel manner were
intercepted and sent to Washington, who transmitted
them, with a sharp letter, to Sir Henry Clinton. His
reply sustained Rawdon and Cornwallis. The original
letters and the whole correspondence may be found in
the 7th volume of Sparks's Writings of Washington.

In any circumstances, such orders
given to officers, often possessing lit
tle knowledge, and as little prudence
or humanity, could not fail to produce
calamitous effects. In the case under
consideration, where all the worst pas
sions of the heart were irritated and in
flamed, the consequences were lament
able. The orders were executed in the
spirit in which they were given. Num
bers of persons were put to death : ma
ny were imprisoned, and their proper
ty was destroyed or confiscated. The
country was covered with blood and
desolation, rancor and grief.
The prisoners on parole thought they
had a clear right to take arms, for from
their parole they had been released by
the proclamation of the 20th of June,
which indeed called them to the duty
of subjects, a condition to which they
had never consented ; and therefore
they reckoned that they had as good a
right to resume their arms as the Brit
ish commander had to enjoin their alle
giance. The case of those who had
taken British protections, in the full
persuasion that they were to be allowed
to live peaceably on their estates, but
who, on finding that they must fight
on one side or the other, had repaired
to the standards of their country, was
equally hard. Deception and violence
were practised against both. So long
as the struggle appeared doubtful, the
colonists met with fair promises and
kind treatment; but at the moment
when resistance seemed hopeless, and
obedience necessary, they were address-

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

153

ed in the tone of authority, heard stern
commands and bloody threatenings, and
received harsh usage. Hence the prov
ince, which for some time presented the
stillness of peace, again put on the ruth
less aspect of war.
A number of persons of much respect
ability remained prisoners of war in
Charleston since the capitulation of that
town ; but, after the battle of Camden,
Cornwallis ordered them to be carried
out of the province. Accordingly, early
in the morning of the 27th of August,
some of the principal citizens of Charles
ton were taken out of bed, put on board
a guard-ship, and soon afterwards trans
ported to St. Augustine. They remon
strated with Lieutenant-colonel Balfour,
the commandant of Charleston, but ex
perienced only the insolence of author
ity from that officer.
While Cornwallis endeavored, by se
vere measures, to break the spirits of
the people, and to establish the royal
authority in South Carolina, he did not
lose sight of his ulterior projects. He
sent emissaries into North Carolina to
excite the loyalists there, and to assure
them of the speedy march of the Brit
ish army into that province. On the
8th of September he left Camden, and
towards the end of the month arrived
at Charlottetown, in North Carolina, of
which place he took possession after a
slight resistance from some volunteer
cavalry under Colonel Davie. Though
symptoms of opposition manifested
themselves at Charlotte, yet he ad
vanced towards Salisbury, and ordered

his militia to cross the Yadkin. But
Cornwallis was suddenly arrested in his
victorious career by an unexpected dis
aster. He made every exertion to em
body the tory inhabitants of the coun
try, and to form them into a British
militia. For that purpose he employed
Major Ferguson, of the seventy-first
regiment, with a small detachment, in
the district of Ninety-Six, to train the
loyalists, and to attach them to his
own party. From the operations of
that officer he expected the most im
portant services.
Ferguson executed his commission
with activity and zeal, collected a large
number of loyalists, and committed
great depredations on the friends of
independence in the back settlements.
When about to return to the main ar
my in triumph, he was detained by one
of those incidents which occasionally
occur in war, and influence the course
of events and the destiny of nations.
Colonel Clarke of Georgia, who had
fled from that province on its reduction
by Campbell in 1779, had retired to
the northward, and having collected a
number of followers in the Carolinas,
he returned to his native province at
the head of about seven hundred men,
and while Cornwallis was marching
from Camden to Charlottetown, at
tacked the British post at Augusta.
Lieutenant-colonel Brown, who com
manded at that place with a garrison
of about one hundred and fifty provin
cials, aided by some friendly Indians,
finding the town untenable, retired tow-

154

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ards an eminence on the banks of the
Savannah, named Garden Hill. But
the Americans occupied it before his
arrival : by bringing his artillery, how
ever, to bear upon them, after a desper
ate conflict he succeeded in dislodging
them and in gaining possession of the
hill, but with the loss of his cannon.
There Clarke besieged him, till in
formed of the near approach of a Brit
ish detachment from Ninety-Six, under
Colonel Kruger. He then retreated,
abandoning the cannon which he had
taken ; and, though pursued, effected
his escape. Notice was instantly sent
to Ferguson of Clarke's retreat, and of
his route, and high hopes of intercept
ing1 him were entertained. For that
purpose Ferguson remained longer in
those parts, and approached nearer the
mountains, than he would otherwise
have done. As he had collected about
fifteen hundred men, he had no appre
hension of any force assembling in that
quarter able to embarrass him.
Meanwhile the depredations commit
ted by Ferguson exasperated many of
the inhabitants of the country, some
of whom, fleeing across the Alleghany
mountains, gave their western brethren
an alarming account of the evils with
which they were threatened. Those
men, living in the full enjoyment of
that independence for which the Atlan
tic States were struggling, resolved to
keep the war at a distance from their
settlements. The hardy mountaineers
of the western parts of Virginia and
North Carolina assembled under colo

nels Campbell, Shelby, Cleveland, and
Sevier. Other parties, under their sev
eral leaders, hastened to join them.
They were all mounted, and unencum
bered with baggage. Each man had
his blanket, knapsack, and rifle ; and
set out in quest of Ferguson, equipped
in the same manner as when they hunt
ed the wild beasts of the forest. At
night the earth afforded them a bed,
and the heavens a covering; the flow
ing stream quenched their thirst ; their
guns, their knapsacks, or a few cattle
driven in their rear, supplied them with
food. Their numbers made them for
midable, and the rapidity of their move
ments rendered it difficult to escape
them. They amounted to nearly three
thousand men.
On hearing of their approach, Fer
guson began to retreat towards Char
lotte, and sent messengers to Cornwallis
to apjprise him of his danger. But the
messengers were intercepted ; and Corn
wallis remained ignorant of the perilous
situation of his detachment. In the
vicinity of Gilbert Town, the Americans,
apprehensive of Ferguson's escape, se
lected one thousand of their best rifle
men, mounted them on their fleetest
horses, and sent them in pursuit. Their
rapid movements rendered his retreat
impracticable; and Ferguson, sensible
that he would inevitably be overtaken,
chose his ground on King's Mountain,
on the confines of North and South Car
olina, and waited the attack.
On the 7th of October the Americans
came up with him. Campbell had the

Chap. XIX.]

OPERATIONS AT THE SOUTH.

155

command ; but his authority was mere
ly nominal, for there was little military
order or subordination in the attack.
They agreed to divide their forces, in
order to assail Ferguson from different
quarters ; and the divisions were led on
by colonels Cleveland, Shelby, Sevier,
and Williams. Cleveland, who con
ducted the party which began the at
tack, addressed his men as follows :
" My brave fellows ! we have beaten
the tories, and we can beat them.
When engaged, you are not to wait for
the word of command from me. I will
show you by my example how to fight :
I can undertake no more. Every man
must consider himself an officer, and act
on his own judgment. Though repulsed,
do not run off: return, and renew the
combat. If any of you are afraid, you
have not only leave to withdraw, but
are requested to do so."
Cleveland instantly began the attack ;
but was soon compelled to retire before
the bayonet. But Ferguson had no
time to continue the pursuit ; for Shelby
came forward from an unexpected quar
ter, and poured in a destructive fire.
Ferguson again resorted to the bayonet,
and was again successful. But at that
moment, Campbell's division advanced
on another side, and a new battle began.
Campbell, like his comrades, was obliged
to retreat. But Cleveland had now
rallied his division, and advanced anew
to the combat. The royalists wheeled,
and met this returning assailant. In
this way there was an unremitting suc
cession of attacks for about fifty min

utes. Ferguson obstinately defended
himself, and repulsed every assailant :
but at last he fell mortally wounded ;
and the second in command, seeing the
contest hopeless, surrendered. Ferguson
and one hundred and fifty of his men
lay dead on the field ; as many were
wounded; nearly seven hundred laid
clown their arms ; and upwards of four
hundred escaped. Among the prison
ers the number of regular British sol
diers did not amount to one hundred.
The Americans lost about twenty men,
who were killed on the field, and they
had many wounded. They took fifteen
hundred stand of arms. Major Fer
guson's position was good ; but the hill
abounded with wood, and afforded the
Americans, who were all riflemen, an
opportunity of fighting in their own
way, and of firing from behind trees.
The Americans hanged ten of their
prisoners on the spot, pleading the guilt
of the individuals who suffered, and the
example of the British, who had exe
cuted a great number of Americans.
One of the victims was a militia officer,
who accepted a British commission, al
though he had formerly been in the
American service. Those rude warriors:
whose enterprise was the spontaneous
impulse of their patriotism or revenge,
who acknowledged no superior author
ity, and who were guided by no supe
rior counsels, having achieved their vic
tory and attained their object, dispersed
and returned home. Most of the pris
oners were soon afterwards released on
various conditions.

156

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

The ruin of Ferguson's detachment,
from which so much had been expected,
was a severe blow to Cornwallis : it dis
concerted his plans, and prevented his
progress northward. On the 14th of
October, as soon after obtaining certain
information of the fall of Major Fer
guson as the army could be put in mo
tion, he left Charlotte, where Ferguson
was to have met him, and began his
retreat towards South Carolina. In that
retrograde movement the British army
suffered severely: for several days it
rained incessantly ; the roads were al
most impassable ; the soldiers had no
tents, and at night encamped in the
woods in an unhealthy climate. The
army was ill supplied with provisions :
sometimes the men had beef, but no
bread ; at other times bread, but no
beef. Once they subsisted during five
clays on Indian corn collected as it stood
in the fields. Five ears were the daily
allowance of two men ; but the troops
bore their toils and privations without
a murmur. In these trying circumstances, the
American loyalists who had joined the
royal standard were of great service ;
but their services were ill requited, and
several of them, disgusted by the abu
sive language, and even blows, which
they received from some of the officers,
left the British army forever. At
length the troops passed the Catawba,
and on the 29th of October reached

Wynnesborough, an intermediate sta
tion between Camden and Ninety-Six.
During this difficult march Cornwallis
was ill, and Lord Rawdon had the com
mand. Washington directed the operations
of this southern campaign, as far as it
was in his power. But he was inter
fered with by the pragmatical, imbecile
and conceited Congress. Had Greene
been appointed to take command of the
southern army, according to Washing
ton's desire, instead of Gates, he would
soon have assembled around him that
" permanent, compact, and well-organ
ized body of men," referred to in Wash
ington's letter to Governor Rutledge,
which we have quoted, and would have
given a very different account of the
British from that of Gates. Greene
was second only to the commander-in-
chief in ability, — second to none in
courage, coolness, and perseverance.
His campaign in the South, as we shall
presently see, was one of the most re
markable performances of the war.
But Congress would not send him to
the South, till repeated disasters com
pelled them to listen to Washington's
advice. The old virus of the Conway
Cabal must have been still lurking
among the members, or they would
scarcely have preferred Gates to Greene.
We must now leave the South for a
season, and turn to the course of events
in the Northern States.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XIX.

[A.]
GENERAL LINCOLN.
Benjamin Lincoln was born in Hingham,
Massachusetts, January 23, 1733. His early
education was not auspicious to his future emi
nence. His vocation was that of a farmer, till
he was more than forty years of age, though he
was commissioned as a magistrate, and elected
a representative in the State legislature. In the
year 1775, he sustained the office of lieutenant-
colonel of militia, and having espoused the cause
of his country as a firm and determined whig,
he was elected a member of the provincial Con
gress, and one of the secretaries of that body,
and also a member of the committee of corre
spondence. In 1776, he was appointed by the
council of Massachusetts a brigadier, and soon
after a major general, and he applied himself as
siduously to training and preparing the militia for
actual service in the field, in which he displayed
great energy and military talent. In October,
he marched with a body of milita and joined the
main army at New York. The commander-in-
chief, from a knowledge of his character and
merit, recommended him to Congress as an
excellent officer, and in February, 1 7 7 7, he was by
that body created a major-general on the conti
nental establishment. For several months he
commanded a division in the main army, under
Washington, and was in situations which required
the exercise of the utmost vigilance and cour
age. Having the command of about five hundred
men in an exposed situation near Bound Brook,
N. J., by the neglect of his patrols a large body
of the enemy approached within two hundred
Vol. II.— 21

yards of his quarters undiscovered : the general
had scarcely time to mount and leave the house,
before it was surrounded. He led off his troops,
however, in the face of the enemy, and made
good his retreat, though with the loss of about
sixty men killed and wounded. One of his
aids, with the general's baggage and papers, fell
into the hands of the enemy, as did also three
small pieces of artillery. In July, 1777, General
Washington selected him to join the northern
army under the command of General Gates,
to oppose the advance of General Burgoyne.
He took his station at Manchester, in Vermont,
to receive and form the New England militia,
as they arrived, and to order their march to the
rear of the British army. He detached Colonel
Brown, with five hundred men, on the 13th
of September, to the landing at Lake George,
where he succeeded in surprising the enemy,
took possession of two hundred bateaux, libera
ted one hundred American prisoners, and cap
tured two hundred and ninety-three of the ene
my, with the loss of only three killed and five
wounded. This enterprise was of the highest
importance, and contributed essentially to the
glorious event which followed. Having de
tached two other parties to the enemy's posts
at Mount Independence and Skeenesborough,
General Lincoln united his remaining force with
the army under General Gates, and was the
second in command. During the sanguinary
conflict on the 7th of October, General Lincoln
commanded within our lines, and at one o'clock
the next morning, he marched with his division
to relieve the troops that had been engaged,
and to occupy the battle-ground, the enemy

158

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

having retreated. While on this duty he had
occasion to ride forward some distance, to re
connoitre, and to order some disposition of his
own troops, when a party of the enemy made
an unexpected movement, and he approached
within musket-shot before he was aware of
his mistake. A whole volley of musketry was
instantly discharged at him and his aids, and he
received a wound by which the bones of his leg
were badly fractured, and he was obliged to
be carried off the field. The wound was a
formidable one, and the loss of his limb was for
some time apprehended. He was for several
months confined at Albany ; and before he wras
conveyed to his house at Hingham, it became
necessary to remove a considerable portion
of the main bone, — a painful surgical operation,
which he bore with a degree of firmness and
patience never exceeded. I have known him,
says Colonel Rice, who was a member of his
military family, during the most painful opera
tion by the surgeon, while bystanders were
frequently obliged to leave the room, enter
tain us with some pleasant anecdote, or story,
and draw forth a smile from his friends. His
wound continued several years in an ulcerated
state, and by the loss of the bone the limb was
shortened, which occasioned lameness during
the remainder of his life. General Lincoln cer
tainly afforded very important assistance in the
capture of Burgoyne, though it was his un
fortunate lot, while in active duty, to be dis
abled before he could participate in the capit
ulation. Though his recovery was not complete,
he repaired to head-quarters in the following
August, and was joyfully received by the com
mander-in-chief, who well knew how to appreciate
his merit. It was from a development of his
estimable character as a man, and his talent as a
military commander, that he was designated
by Congress for the arduous duties of the chief
command in the southern department, under
innumerable embarrassments. On his arrival at
Charleston, December, 1778, he found that he
had to form an army, to provide supplies, and
to arrange the various departments, that he
might be able to cope with an enemy consisting
of experienced officers and veteran troops. This,
it is obvious, required a man of superior powers,

indefatigable perseverance, and unconquerable
energy. Had not these been his inherent quali
ties, Lincoln must have yielded to the for
midable obstacles which opposed his progress.
About the 28th of December, General Prevost
arrived with a fleet and about three thousand
British troops, and took possession of Savannah,
after routing a small party of Americans, under
General Robert Howe. General Lincoln im
mediately put his troops in motion, and took
post on the eastern side of the river, about
twenty miles from the city ; but he was not in
force to commence offensive operations till the
last of February. In April, with the view of
covering the upper part of Georgia, he marched
to Augusta ; after which Prevost, the British
commander, crossed the river into Carolina,
and marched for Charleston. General Lincoln,
therefore, recrossed the Savannah, and followed
his route, and on arriving near the city, found
that the enemy had retired from before it during
the previous night.
He joined the Count D'Estaing in September,
1779, with one thousand men, in the bold assault
on Savannah. On the 9th of October, in the
morning, the troops were led on by D'Estaing
and Lincoln, while a column led by Count
Dillion missed their route in the darkness, and
failed of the intended co-operation. Amidst
a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the
allied troops forced the abattis, and planted
two standards on the parapets. But being over
powered at the point of attack, they were com
pelled to retire ; the French having seven hun
dred, the Americans two hundred and forty
killed and wounded. The Count Pulaski, at the
head of a body of our horse, was mortally
wounded. General Lincoln next repaired' to
Charleston, and endeavored to put that city in
a posture of defence, urgently requesting of
Congress a reinforcement of regular troops, and
additional supplies, which were but partially
accorded him. In February, 1780, General Sir
Henry Clinton arrived, and landed a formidable
force in the vicinity, and on the 30th of March,
encamped in front of the American lines at
Charleston. Considering the vast superiority of
the enemy, both in sea and land forces, it might
be questioned whether prudence and correct

Chap. XLX.]

DOCUMENTS.

159

judgment would dictate an attempt to defend
the city ; it will not be supposed, however,
that the determination was formed without the
most mature deliberation, and for reasons per
fectly justifiable. It is well known the general
was in continual expectation of an augmentation
of strength by reinforcements. On the 10th of
April, the enemy having made some advances,
summoned the garrison to an unconditional sur
render, which was promptly refused. A heavy
and incessant cannonade was sustained on each
side, till the 11th of May, when the besiegers
had completed their third parallel, and having
made a second demand of surrender, a capitu
lation was agreed on.
It is to be lamented that, with all the ju
dicious and vigorous efforts in his power, General
Lincoln was requited only by the frowns of
fortune, whereas had he been successful in his
bold enterprise and views, he would have been
crowned with unfading laurels. But notwith
standing a series of disappointments and un
fortunate occurrences, he was censured by no
one, nor was his judgment or merit called in
question. He retained his popularity and the
confidence of the army, and was considered
as a zealous patriot, and the bravest of soldiers.
The motives and feelings that prompted Gen
eral Lincoln rather to risk a siege than to
evacuate Charleston, were most honorable to
him as a man and a soldier. There was such a
balance of reasons on the question, as under the
existing circumstances should exempt his de
cision from blame or distrust. He could not
calculate on the despondence and inactivity of
the people who should come to his succor.
The suspense and anxiety, the toil and hazard
attending the siege, gave the fullest scope to
his wisdom, patience, and valor. His exertions
were incessant. He was on the lines night and
day, and for the last fortnight never undressed
to sleep. Notwithstanding this unfortunate
termination of his command, so established
was the reputation of the vanquished general,
that he continued to enjoy the undiminished
respect and confidence of the Congress, the
army, and the commander-in-chief. " Great
praise is due to General Lincoln," says Dr. Ram
say, "for his judicious and spirited conduct

in baffling for three months the greatly superior
force of Sir Henry Clinton and Admiral Ar-
buthnot. Though Charleston and the southern
army were lost, yet by their long protracted
defence the British plans were not only retarded,
but deranged, and North Carolina was saved
for the remainder of the year 1780."
General Lincoln was liberated on his parole,
and in November following was exchanged
for Major-general Phillips, a prisoner of the
convention of Saratoga. In the campaign of
1781, General Lincoln commanded a division
under Washington, and at the siege of York-
town he had his full share of the honor of that
brilliant and auspicious event. The articles of
capitulation stipulated for the same honor in
favor of the surrendering army, as had been
granted to the garrison of Charleston. General
Lincoln was appointed to conduct them to the
field where their arms were deposited, and re
ceived the customary submission. In the gen
eral order of the commander-in-chief, the day
after the capitulation, General Lincoln was among
the general officers whose services were par
ticularly mentioned. In October, 1781, he was
chosen by Congress secretary at war, retaining
his rank in the army. In this office he continued
till October, 1783, when his proffered resignation
was accepted by Congress, as follows : " Re
solved, that the resignation of Major-general
Lincoln, as secretary of war for the United States,
be accepted in consideration of the earnest de
sire which he expresses, the objects of the
war being so happly accomplished, to retire to
private life, and that he be informed that the
United States in Congress assembled, entertain
a high sense of his perseverance, fortitude, ac
tivity, and meritorious services in the field, as
well as of his diligence, fidelity, and capacity in
the execution of the office of secretary at war,
which important trust he has discharged to
their entire approbation." Having relinquished
the duties and cares of public employment, he
retired and devoted his attention to his farm ;
but in 1784, he was chosen one of the com
missioners and agents, on the part of the State,
to make and execute a treaty with the Penobscot
Indians. When, in the year 1786-7, the au
thority of the State government was in a manner

160

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

prostrated, and the country alarmed by a most
audacious spirit of insurrection, under the gui
dance of Shays and Day, General Lincoln was ap
pointed by the governor and council to command
a detachment of militia, consisting of four or five
thousand men, to oppose their progress, and
compel them to a submission to the laws. He
marched from Boston on the 20th of January,
into the counties of Worcester, Hampshire, and
Berkshire, where the insurgents had erected
their standard. They were embodied in con
siderable force, and manifested a determined
resistance, and a slight skirmish ensued between
them and a party of militia under General Shep
herd. Lincoln, however, conducted with such
address and energy, that the insurgents were
routed from one town to another, till they were
completely dispersed in all directions; and by
his wise and prudent measures, the insurrection
was happily suppressed without bloodshed, ex
cepting a few individuals who were slain under
General Shepherd's command. At the May
election, 1787, General Lincoln was elected lieu
tenant governor by the legislature, having had
a plurality of votes by the people. He was a
member of the convention for ratifying the
federal constitution, and in the summer of 1789,
he received from President Washington the
appointment of collector of the port of Boston,
which office he sustained till, being admonished
by the increasing infirmities of age, he requested
permission to resign, about two years before his
death. In 1789, he was appointed one of the
commissioners to treat with the Creek Indians
on the frontiers of the Southern States, and in
1793, he was one of the commissioners to effect
a peace with the western Indians.
Having, after his resignation of the office of
collector, passed about two years in retirement,
and in tranquillity of mind, but experiencing
the feebleness of age, he received a short attack
of disease, by which his life was terminated on
the 9th of May, 1810.
General Lincoln in his nature was unsuscepti
ble of the spirit of envy. Whoever achieved a
noble action to the honor and advantage of
his country, whether as a patriot or soldier, was
with him the man of merit, and the theme of
eulogy, though it might eclipse his own fame.

He was universally respected as one of the best
of men, of ardent patriotism, and of heroic
courage. Major-general Knox, whose candor
and discriminating judgment no one will deny,
was known to estimate next to Washington, in
military talents, generals Greene and Lincoln.

[B.]
GENERAL STEVENS.
Edward Stevens, a distinguished officer in the
Revolutionary War, was born in Culpepper
county, Virginia. He engaged early in the
contest for our liberties, nor did he sheathe his
sword until the achievement of national inde
pendence. His military career commenced at
the battle of the Great Bridge, near Norfolk,
Virginia, where he commanded a battalion of
riflemen. Distinguished on that occasion by his
valor and good conduct, he immediately attract
ed public attention, as an individual peculiarly
fitted for utility in the arduous struggles of the
Revolution. Being shortly after appointed to
command the tenth Virginia regiment, which had
been speedily raised, equipped, and organized,
Colonel Stevens marched to the north, and came
under the immediate command of Washington.
The first occasion that presented itself for the
distinction of this regiment occurred at the
battle of Brandy wine, on the 11th of September,
1777. It was here that the gallant exertions of
this intrepid officer served, in a great measure,
to protect the continental army from annihila
tion. Colonel Stevens was not brought into
action until the retreat had begun ; he was then
charged to cover the rear, and impede the pur
suit of the enemy. With the co-operation of
a Pennsylvania regiment, he seized an advan
tageous piece of ground on the road taken by
the defeated army, protecting the second and
eleventh regiments from capture, checking the
enemy, and securing the retreat. His orders
were gallantly executed, making an impression
on the hostile army, which induced the British
general to look to his own safety, and abandon
the pursuit. Colonel Stevens received on the
succeeding day the public thanks of the com
mander-in-chief. The battle of Germantown

Chap. XIX.]

DOCUMENTS.

161

took place in October following, where the tenth
Virginia regiment was alike distinguished by its
intrepid courage, which again produced for its
gallant chief the public acknowledgments of
Washington. Colonel Stevens now filled a large space in
the hopes of his native State : he was called to
the command of a brigade ; and the next the
atre presented to his valor was at the battle of
Camden. In the council of war immediately
preceding this action, the memorable reply of
General Stevens (to the interrogatory put to
the board), "It is too late to retreat now; we
must fight," was made. This answer was fol
lowed by the order of the American general,
without further counsel — " Then, gentlemen, re
pair to your several posts ;" a decisive evidence
of the high confidence reposed by him in the
discretion and capacity of General Stevens. The
issue of this affair was unfavorable; and although
the gallantry and conduct of Stevens exempted
him from all imputations, yet no officer felt more
deep and mortifying chagrin at the tarnished
lustre of our arms. He felt so sorely the ca
lamities of the day, that he would have retired
from the southern campaign, but for the pressing
solicitude of General Greene, who soon after
assuming command of this department of the
continental forces, was unwilling to lose the
services of an officer so distinguished for all
those traits of military character which produce
practical utility. The battle of Guilford Court
house furnished General Stevens an opportunity
of reviving the despondent hopes of the South,
and warding off evils with which he had been
unluckily beset at Camden. The North Car
olina militia formed the first line ; Stevens's
brigade of Virginia militia the second. So soon
as the enemy approached the first line, within
one hundred and forty yards, a scattered fire
commenced, when this line threw down their
arms, and fled to the second with precipitation.
Stevens, possessing that happy presence of mind
so necessary in action to draw benefit even from
calamity, directed his troops to open their ranks,
and permit them to pass ; and, to prevent the
panic infecting his command, he gave out that
they had been ordered to retreat upon the first
fire. At this battle he took the precaution to

station a body of picked riflemen forty yards in
the rear of his brigade, with positive orders to
shoot down the first man who attempted to
break the ranks or escapp He received here
a severe wound in inc thigh, though he did not
quit the field until he had rendered great ser
vices, and brought off his troops in good order.
General Greene bestowed on him marked com
mendation. The siege of Yorktown, and the
capture of the army under Cornwallis, soon
closed the important scene of the Revolution.
It was here that General Stevens preserved and
increased his well-earned honors. The com
mander-in-chief repeatedly assigned him impor
tant duties, which called for the best efforts of
valor and skill : these were faithfully executed ;
and it is confidently asserted, that no officer
possessed a larger share of his respect and con
fidence. General Stevens was a zealous patriot in the
civil department of the government of his na
tive State. From the formation of the State
constitution, until the year 1790, he was a
member of the Senate of Virginia; always use
ful, esteemed, and respected. He was at Char
lottesville, in the legislature, when Tarleton in
vaded the commonwealth and dispersed that
body. He proposed to arm the citizens, meet
Tarleton at the river below the village, and
fight him. This counsel was not executed, and
he narrowly escaped capture, by the more ele
gant equipment of a person fleeing a short dis
tance before him.
The character of General Stevens may be
given in a few words. Firm, patient, and de
liberative, no man possessed the cardinal vir
tues in a higher degree. He exhibited a sound
judgment, singleness of heart, unblemished and
incorruptible integrity ; a patriotism, which de
spised all State tricks ; and an unbounded and
immovable courage. For the sphere of practical
utility and public benefit he was well fitted.
Born with little brilliant embellishment, he had
all the qualities for real and substantial service,
without regarding the influence of faction and
party ; but loving the general principles of civil
liberty, his feelings were always on the side of
his country. His heart was the abode of that
patriotism which, spurning parties, cleaved to

162

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV

the constitution of the nation, as a holy ark,
which contains at once the evidence of our
glory, and the charter of our liberties.
He died at his seat in Culpepper county, Vir
ginia, on the 17th day of August, 1820.

[C]
MAJOR-GENERAL THOMAS SUMTER.
History records the name of no truer patriot
than Major-general Thomas Sumter. He was a
native of Virginia. Early in life he went to
South Carolina, and settled in the upper coun
try, which at that time was much harassed by
the hostility of the Indians. It would seem that
he then commenced his career of valor and use
fulness, for we find that at the close of the Cher
okee war he accompanied Oconostotah, or " the
Emperor," to England, — it being common at
that time to induce the Indian chiefs to visit the
mother country for the purpose of confirming
their friendship to the colonists. On returning
with Oconostotah to his home, in 1763, General,
then Mr. Sumter, found among the Indians one
Baron des Johnes, a French Canadian, who
spoke seven of the Indian languages, and whom
he suspected of being an incendiary, sent to in
cite the tribes to hostility against their white
neighbors. Sumter, with his characteristic res
olution, arrested this individual, taking him sin
gle-handed, in spite of the opposition of the In
dians, and, at much personal risk, carrying him
prisoner to Fort Prince George, on the Ke-
howee. Des Johnes was afterwards sent to Charles
ton, where he was examined, and though his
guilt was not positively proved, it was deemed
expedient to send him to England.
From a letter of General Sumter's to the
State Rights Association, we learn that he was
in Charleston during the high excitement pre
ceding the war of the Revolution, probably in
1774 and 1775, a time to which the letter re
verts with great satisfaction, as the period when
he enjoyed an interchange of sentiments with
the old whig party of Carolina.
We next meet with Sumter in 1780. He had

been previously a colonel of one of the conti
nental regiments, and when in that year the
British had overrun the State, he would not
remain to submit, but retired with other deter
mined patriots into North Carolina. During
his absence his house was burned, and his family
turned out of door, by the British. The little
band of exiles in North Carolina chose him their
leader, and at their head he returned to face the
victorious enemy. When this gallant incursion
was made, the people of the State had for the
most part abandoned the idea of resistance, and
military operations had been suspended for
nearly two months. His followers were in a
great measure unfurnished with food, clothing,
and ammunition. Farming utensils were work
ed up by common blacksmiths to supply them
with arms. Household pewter was melted into
bullets, and they sometimes engaged with not
three rounds to a man. With a volunteer force
thus equipped, he commenced hostilities, and
broke the quiet of subjection into which Caro
lina seemed to be sinking.
On the 12th of July, 1780, he attacked a Brit
ish detachment on the Catawba, supported by a
considerable body of tories, and totally routed
and dispersed the whole force, killing Captain
Hack, who commanded the British, and Colonel
Ferguson, who commanded the tories. Ani
mated by this success, the inhabitants flocked to
his standard ; and being reinforced to the num
ber of six hundred men, he made a spirited at
tack on the British post at Rocky Mount, but
was repulsed. Marching immediately in quest
of other detachments of the enemy, in eight
days after he attacked the post of the Hang
ing Rock, where he annihilated the Prince of
Wales's regiment, and put to flight a large body
of tories from North Carolina. When Sumter's
men went into this battle, not one of them had
more than ten bullets, and towards the close of
the fight, the arms and ammunition of the
fallen British and tories were used by the Amer
icans. While the American army, under the unfor
tunate Gates, were approaching Camden, Colo
nel Sumter was on the west bank of the Wa
teree, augmenting his forces, and indulging the
hope of intercepting the British :>n their way to

Chap. XIX.]

DOCUMENTS.

163

Charleston, as their retreat or defeat was confi
dently expected. He here formed a plan for
reducing a British redoubt at Wateree Ferry,
and intercepting a convoy on the road from
Charleston to Camden, in both of which objects
he fully succeeded, and the news of his success
reached Gates while that officer was retreating
after his defeat.
Hearing of the disaster at Camden, Sumter
retreated with his prisoners and spoils up the
Wateree to Fishing Creek, where he was over
taken by Tarleton on the 1 8th. The Americans
had been four days without provisions or sleep,
and their videttes being exhausted, suffered
them to be surprised : the consequence was,
their total rout and dispersion. The loss which
Sumter sustained was, however, soon repaired,
for in three days he rallied his troops, and was
again at the head of a respectable force.
At the head of his little band, augmented
from time to time by reinforcements of volun
teers, he kept the field unsupported, while for
three months there was no regular or conti
nental army in the State. He shifted his posi
tion in the vicinity of Broad, Enoree, and Tiger
rivers, maintaining a continual skirmishing with
the enemy, beating up their quarters, cutting
off their supplies, and harassing them by inces
sant incursions and alarms.
On the 12th of November he was attacked at
Broad River by a corps of British infantry and
dragoons, under Major Wemys. He utterly
defeated them, and took their commander pris
oner. On the 20th of November he was at
tacked at Black Stocks, on Tiger River, by
Tarleton, whom he repulsed after a severe and
obstinate action. The loss of the Americans
was trifling compared with that of the British ;
but General Sumter received a wound in the
shoulder that for several months interrupted his
gallant career. He was placed, we are told, in
a raw bullock's hide, suspended between two
horses, and thus carried by a guard of his men
to the mountains.
On the 13th of January, 1781, the old Con
gress adopted a resolution of thanks to General
Sumter for his eminent services.
After the battles fought by General Greene,
and the departure of Cornwallis for Virginia,

General Sumter, who had just recovered from
his wound, collected another force, and early in
February, 1781, crossed the Congaree and de
stroyed the magazines of Fort Granby. On the
advance of Lord Rawdon from Camden, Sum
ter retreated, and immediately menaced another
British post. Two days after, he defeated an
escort of the enemy, and captured the wagons
and stores which they were conveying from
Charleston to Camden. He next, with two
hundred and fifty horsemen, swam across the
Santee, and advanced on Fort Watson, but re
treated on the approach of Lord Rawdon to its
relief. On his return to Black River, he was at
tacked by Major Fraser with a very large force.
Fraser lost twenty men and retreated. Having
thus cheered the spirits of the people of the cen
tre of the State, he retired to the borders of North
Carolina. In March, 1781, he raised three regi
ments of regulars. His previous enterprises had
all been executed by militia. He subsequently
took part in the military movements in the low
er country until the close of the war, and, co
operating with Marion, struck many successful
blows at the British, and was distinguished in
the several actions which were fought between
Orangeburgh and Charleston.
After the peace, General Sumter was a distin
guished member of the State Convention, in
which he voted with those who opposed the
adoption of the Federal Constitution, on the
ground that the States were not sufficiently
shielded by it against federal usurpation. He
was afterwards selected one of the five members
from that State in the House of Representatives
of the first Congress under the Constitution.
He afterwards served as senator. After retiring
from public life, he lived to the advanced age of
ninety-seven, universally respected. He died
June 1st, 1832, at his residence near Bedford
Springs, South Carolina.
The best compliment ever paid to this eminent
partisan officer came from Cornwallis. Writing
to Tarleton just after the affair at Black Stocks,
at the time Sumter was laid up with his wound,
he said : " I shall be very glad to hear that Sum
ter is in a condition to give us no further trout le.
He certainly has been our greatest plague in
this country."

164

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV

[D.]
GENERAL MOULTRIE.
William Moultrie, a major-general in the
Revolution, was devoted to the service of his
adopted country at an early period of his life.
An Englishman by birth, he had, like many oth
ers of his countrymen, fled from the tyranny and
oppression of the old world, and sought freedom
and security in the new. At the commencement
of the opposition to the measures of the British
ministry, he stood high in the estimation of his
fellow-citizens of Carolina ; and his name is found
in every convention which assembled at Charles
ton for the purpose of devising ways and means
of resisting those encroachments on the rights
of the citizen which were first attempted at
Boston, and which, with the noiseless tread of
the savage, assailed the person and habitation
of every American with the toils of slavery and
subjection. On the 11th of January, 1775, the first pro
vincial Congress, as it was then called, of South
Carolina, assembled at Charleston. It wras a
bright and splendid assemblage of talents, patri
otism, and heroism, and Moultrie was a distin
guished member of it. The unanimity which
marked their proceedings, and the fixed and
resolute assertion of their rights and privileges,
and the manly and heroic devotion which they
manifested in subscribing to the association rec
ommended by the Congress at Philadelphia,
sufficiently testify that they were worthy to be
the founders of American liberty.
Every thing wore the appearance of war, but
hostilities had not yet even entered into the
minds of our forefathers. In supplication and
the assertion of their rights, supported by argu
ments completely unanswerable, it was hoped
and believed that British violence would be con
vinced, and yield that prerogative right of op
pression which she had claimed. But the bat
tle of Lexington was the tocsin of alarm : the
groans of the dying freeman demanded from
his country vengeance for himself and security
for his offspring : in consequence of which the
provincial Congress of South Carolina again as
sembled at Charleston on the 1st of June, 1775,
and immediately determined on raising two

regiments of foot and one of rangers for the de
fence of the province : of the second regiment
Moultrie was nominated the colonel. Measures
were taken to provide powder and the other
necessary implements of war. Difficult was the
undertaking, but glorious the result. Embalmed
in the affections of their countrymen are the
memories of the gallant and noble few who first
trod the ramparts of liberty. They have de
parted from among us, and it is now indeed but
seldom that our eyes are blessed with the sight,
and our hearts improved by the recognition, of
the gray hairs of the veterans of the Revolution.
The regiments which were ordered to be
raised were soon completed, and every measure
which prudence could dictate to prevent disaf
fection from attempting any thing within, and
to repel invasion from without, was accom
plished. In the execution of these measures of
prudence, Colonel Moultrie was always found
the prompt and efficient officer. About the last
of this year (1775), that spirit of disaffection
which had hitherto lain dormant began to man
ifest itself in the upper part of the country. In
the district of Ninety-Six, the loyalists collects
ed in large bodies, and, after a warm and ob
stinate action, besieged Colonel Williamson in
his fortified camp. To quell this insurrection,
and repel any invasion which might be attempt
ed, was indeed a difficult task, and one from
which most men would shrink in despair. But
our forefathers dared attempt it, and succeed
ed. The tories were compelled to abandon the
siege of Colonel Williamson's camp, and to re
main for a time quiet spectators of the passing
events. For the better securing the harbor of Charles
ton, Colonel Moultrie erected a fascine battery
on Sullivan's Island, which afterwards bore his
name. The English now began seriously to think of
invading South Carolina, and accordingly fitted
out a large naval armament from New York,
the command of which was given to Commo
dore Parker. It was now that war seemed
about to pounce upon South Carolina as its
prey. The husbandman was seen deserting his
farm, and hastening to Charleston to protect
his country. " The noisy drum and ear-piercing

Chap. XIX.]

DOCUMENTS.

165

fife" were heard on every breeze ; and the length
ening columns which proceeded to her aid from
her sister States, gave " awful note of prepara
tion and suspense." Lee and Armstrong, two
gallant leaders of the American forces, mar
shalled the armies, and gave directions to the
patriotic ardor of the Carolinians. But where
is Moultrie ? In the battery, on Sullivan's Isl
and, he may be seen toiling and directing the
energies of his regiment to the completion of
their works. Hastily erected, and apparently
incapable of resistance, the gallant commander
was advised to abandon it, and told that the
British ships would knock it down in half an
hour ; but his truly Spartan reply, " We will
lay behind the ruins and prevent their men from
landing," showed the spirit of Leonidas, and that
he was worthy to command the Thermopylae of
his country.
On the 28th of June, 1776, the British fleet
commenced an attack on Fort Moultrie. The
great and unequal conflict was met by the gal
lant Moultrie with a firm and unyielding front.
The raw and undisciplined troops of Carolina
sustained from_ eight ships of the British navy
an incessant cannonade for ten hours. But
during that time none were seen to waver.
Animated by the presence of their gallant com
mander, all were heroes ; and their guns, point
ed with deliberation, poured a slow but certain
havoc over the decks of the enemy's vessels.
One spirit, victory or death, pervaded every
rank ; even the wounded and the dying cheered
and encouraged their comrades to perseverance.
It was, indeed, a scene to fill every bosom. The
wharves of Charleston were lined with crowds
of anxious citizens, listening, in death-like si
lence, to every gun, and watching, in an agony
of hope and fear, every motion of Moultrie's flag.
There, too, were assembled the wives and chil
dren of the defenders of the fort. Every thing
depended on the issue of. the contest. Domes
tic happiness and liberty held their mantles high
over their heads, and under such a covering,
victory was certain.
For the gallant defence at Fort Moultrie, the
commander and his little band were entitled to,
and received the evidences of, the warmest grat
itude of their country. To the female patriot-
Vol. n.— 22

ism of Mrs. Elliott, they were indebted for the
present of a pair of colors, made sacred by the
language of the fair donor, that she " had no
doubt but that they would stand by them as
long as they could wave in the air of liberty."
The belief was not vain : those colors were wet
with the expiring blood of Bush, Hume, Gray,
and the gallant Jasper ; and, until Charleston
fell, they waved in the van of the Carolina
army. After the signal repulse of the enemy from
Sullivan's Island, the country was left in a state
of tranquillity ; and the Declaration of Independ
ence was received at a time when exultation had
not yet subsided for the recent victory, and
when every heart was throbbing with the most
delightful anticipations for the future. South
Carolina sung the song of triumph and victory,
and scarcely had the loud and swelling notes
expired upon the ear, when she chanted the
hymn of liberty and independence.
Shortly after this time, Moultrie rose to the
rank of brigadier-general, and was put upon the
continental establishment. The State continued
to enjoy a repose from the attacks of its exter
nal enemies until the year 1779.
In the mean time, the State was rent asunder
by the intrigues of the disaffected ; and the in
fatuated tories drew down the angry vengeance
and just chastisement of their country upon their
heads. The invasion of Georgia by the British,
and the defeat of General Howe at Savannah,
was the commencement of that deluge of ca
lamities which afterwards overwhelmed South
Carolina. The experience of General Lincoln, when op
posed by the rash and headstrong conduct of
the militia, could only retard for a time, not en
tirely dissipate, the approaching storm. In the
defence of Beaufort, General Moultrie displayed
his usual sagacity and prudence : he repulsed
the enemy at all points, and kept them in check
with a handful of militia, until it was judged
proper for him to abandon Beaufort to its fate
and unite himself with the main army. En
camped at Parisburg, Lincoln and Moultrie, with
an army greatly inferior in numbers, composed
mostly of militia and raw recruits, opposed a
steady and never-varying front to the veteran

166

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book TV

ranks of England. It was even determined,
with the assistance of General Ash, to push the
war into Georgia, and by one bold movement
drive General Prevost to the necessity of sur
rendering. But the defeat of General Ash's
army at Blair Creek completely frustrated the
plans of the American officers, and drove them
to the necessity of abandoning offensive for de
fensive warfare.
The enemy now endeavored to approach
Charleston by land from Georgia. To their
advance, the veteran genius of Moultrie was
opposed. Like a wounded lion, compelled to
tread back his steps, his retreat was daring;
and, facing about, he occasionally snatched his
prey from his pursuers, and made their recoiling
ranks tremble for their safety. Lincoln, who
had previously marched with the flower of the
army for Augusta, was seen stretching forward
with a rapid march to gain the rear of the ad
vancing enemy, or to unite himself with Moul
trie. It was a time of difficulty ; every nerve
was strained for the contest ; the militia could
scarcely be induced to turn out, and when in
service, they deserted the ranks to return to
their homes at pleasure. Danger was present
ing itself at all points, and individual interest
was more regarded than that of the country.
But the exertions of Moultrie and Governor
Rutledge gathered from all parts the citizen
yeomenry ; and General Prevost, instead of find
ing Charleston an easy prey, found it guarded
and protected, and the hero of Sullivan's Island
presiding over all as the genius of safety. A
siege was not attempted, and the enemy precip
itately withdrew from before the town. Lin
coln now began to draw near, and the hitherto
pursuing enemy became in their turn the pur
sued. About this time Moultrie received the com
mission of a major-general in the army of the
United States. The battle of Stono followed
immediately after, which, although uncertain in
the result, was sufficiently evincive of the bra
very of the American troops, and of the pru
dence and gallantry of Moultrie. The enemy,
although left in possession of the field, did not
think proper to retain the post, but soon after
abandoned it, and retired to Savannah. The

pursuit was conducted to Sheldon by Moultrie.
He there gave up the command to General Lin
coln, and returned to Charleston. Fortunately
for him, his laurels were not blighted by the
frost of repulse which General Lincoln sustained
in the siege of Savannah.
In the year 1780, a third invasion of South
Carolina was projected and carried into execu
tion under the command of Sir Henry Clinton.
The force was overwhelming and irresistible.
In vain did Lincoln and Moultrie endeavor to
check their approach ; in vain did they endeavor
to retard the works of the besiegers ; Charleston,
surrounded by a numerous and well-appointed
army, and her harbor filled with the fleet of
England, after a gallant resistance was obliged
to surrender.
On the 12th of May, 1780, the people of Caro
lina witnessed the mournful spectacle of an army
of freemen piling their arms, and surrendering
themselves prisoners of war. Here ended the
career of Major-general Moultrie as a military
man. He remained a prisoner until nearly the
close of the American war, when he was ex
changed at Philadelphia, and returned to South
Carolina, where he was received with proud and
enthusiastic joy. Although his slaves had ev
ery opportunity during the war to abandon his
service, not one of them did so. On hearing
of his return, they crowded around their vener
able master to kiss his hand, and to show their
attachment to his person and fortune by the
tears of rapturous joy which they shed at being
once more permitted to behold him. He had
the pleasure of witnessing the evacuation of
Charleston shortly after his arrival at home,
and of seeing peace return " with healing in her
wings, and majesty in her beams," to irradiate
the prospects of America.
The subsequent life of Moultrie was one of
tranquillity, and presents nothing very striking
or interesting. He was once governor of South
Carolina. He died at Charleston, on the 27th
of September, 1805, in the seventy-sixth year of
his age.
The character of General Moultrie, as an offi
cer, a man, and a citizen, was unexceptionable.
The glory of his services was surpassed by his
disinterestedness and integrity.

isi

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..TolmoniL. ITry&i C° IS.iblis'h.exs , .Te--.-"!iOT'.i

168

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

after having their wounds dressed, in many
instances returned again to the conflict. Men,
and particularly officers, dropped every moment,
and on every side. Several Americans placed
themselves on high trees, and, as often as they
could distinguish an officer's uniform, took him
off by deliberately aiming at his person. Few
actions have been characterized by more ob
stinacy in attack or defence. The British re
peatedly tried their bayonets, but without their
usual success in the use of that weapon.
The British lost upwards of five hundred men,
including their killed, wounded, and prisoners.
The Americans, inclusive of the missing, lost
three hundred and nineteen. Thirty-six out
of forty-eight British artillerists were killed or
wounded. The sixty-second British regiment,
which was five hundred strong when it left Can
ada, was reduced to sixty men and four or five
officers. In this engagement General Gates, as
sisted by generals Lincoln and Arnold, com
manded the American army ; and General Bur
goyne was at the head of his army, and generals
Phillips, Riedesel, and Fraser, with their re
spective commands, were actively engaged.
This battle was fought by the general concert
and zealous co-operation of the corps engaged,
and was sustained more by individual courage
than military discipline. General Arnold, who
afterwards traitorously deserted his country,
behaved with the most undaunted courage, lead-
ding on the troops and encouraging them by
his personal efforts and daring exposure. The
gallant Colonel Morgan obtained immortal hon
or on this day. Lieutenant-colonel Brooks, with
the eighth Massachusetts regiment, remained
on the field till about eleven o'clock, and was
the last who retired. Major Hull commanded
a detachment of three hundred men, who fought
with such signal ardor, that more than one half
of them were killed. The whole number of
Americans engaged in this action was about
two thousand five hundred ; the remainder of
the army, from its unfavorable situation, took
little or no part in the action.
Each army claimed the victory, and each be
lieved itself to have beaten, with only part of its
force, nearly the whole of the enemy. The ad
vantage, however, was decidedly in favor of the

Americans. In every quarter they had been
the assailants, and after an encounter of several
hours they had not lost a single inch of ground.
General Gates, whose numbers increased daily,
remained on his old ground. His right, which
extended to the river, had been rendered un
assailable, and he used great industry to strength
en his left.
Both armies retained their position until the
7th of October: Burgoyne, in the hope of being
relieved by Sir Henry Clinton ; and Gates, grow
ing stronger every day, confident of rendering
the destruction of his enemy more certain. Re
ceiving no further intelligence from Sir Henry,
the British general determined to make one
more trial of strength with his adversary. The
following account of the brilliant affair of the
7th of October, 1777, is given in Thacher's
Military Journal.
" I am fortunate enough to obtain from our
officers a particular account of the glorious
event of the 7th inst. The advanced parties of
the two armies came into contact, about three
o'clock on Tuesday afternoon, and immediately
displayed their hostile attitude. The Amer
icans soon approached the royal army, and each
party in defiance awaited the deadly blow.
The gallant Colonel Morgan, at the head of his
famous rifle corps, and Major Dearborn, leading
a detachment of infantry, commenced the action,
and rushed courageously on the British gren
adiers, commanded by Major Ackland ; and
the furious attack was firmly resisted. In all
parts of the field, the conflict became extremely
arduous and obstinate ; an unconquerable spirit
on each side disdaining to yield the palm of vic
tory. Death appeared to have lost his terrors :
breaches in the ranks were no sooner made than
supplied by fresh combatants, awaiting a similar
fate. At length the Americans press forward
with renewed strength and ardor, and compel
the whole British line, commanded by Burgoyne
himself, to yield to their deadly fire, and they
retreat in disorder. The German troops remain
firmly posted at their lines: these were now
boldly assaulted by Brigadier-general Learned
and Lieutenant-colonel Brooks, at the head of
their respective commands, with such intrepid
ity, that the works were carried, and their brave

Chap. XIX.]

DOCUMENTS.

169

commander, Lieutenant-colonel Breyman, was
slain. The Germans were pursued to their en
campment, which, with all the equipage of the
brigade, fell into our hands. Colonel Cilley, of
General Poor's brigade, having acquitted him
self honorably, was seen astride on a brass field-
piece, exulting in the capture. Major Hull, of
the Massachusetts line, was among those who
so bravely stormed the enemy's intrenchment,
and acted a conspicuous part. General Arnold,
in consequence of a serious misunderstanding
with General Gates, was not vested with any
command, by which he was exceedingly cha
grined and irritated. He entered the field,
however, and his conduct was marked with in
temperate rashness : flourishing his sword and
animating the troops, he struck an officer on the
head without cause, and gave him a considerable
wound. He exposed himself to every danger,
and, with a small party of riflemen, rushed into
the rear of the enemy, where he received a ball
which fractured his leg, and his horse was killed
under him. Nightfall put a stop to our brilliant
career, though the victory was most decisive,
and it is with pride and exultation that we re
count the triumph of American bravery. Be
sides Lieutenant-colonel Breyman slain, General
Fraser, one of the most valuable officers in the
British service, was mortally wounded, and sur
vived but a few hours. Fraser was the soul of
the British army, and was just changing the dis
position of a part of the troops to repel a strong
impression which the Americans had made, and
were still making, on the British right, when
Morgan called together two or three of his best
marksmen, and pointing to Fraser said, ' Do
you see that gallant officer? that is General
Fraser. I respect and honor him, but it is ne
cessary he should die.' This was enough. Fra
ser immediately received his mortal wound, and
was carried off the field. Sir Francis Clark,
aid-de-camp to^ General Burgoyne, was brought
into our camp with a mortal wound ; and Major
Ackland, who commanded the British grena
diers, was wounded through both legs, and is
our prisoner. Several other officers, and about
two hundred privates, are prisoners in our hands,
with nine pieces of cannon, and a considerable
supply of ammunition, which was much wanted

for our troops. The loss on our side is sup
posed not to exceed thirty killed, and one hun
dred wounded, in obtaining this signal victory."
The position of the British army, after the
action of the 7th, was so dangerous, that an im
mediate and total change of position became
necessary, and Burgoyne took immediate meas
ures to regain his former camp at Saratoga.
There he arrived with little molestation. His
provisions being now reduced to the supply of a
few days, the transports of artillery and baggage •
towards Canada being rendered impracticable
by the judicious measures of his adversary, the
British general resolved upon a rapid retreat,
merely with what the soldiers could carry. On
examination, however, it was found that they
were deprived even of this resource, as the
passes through which their route lay were so
strongly guarded, that nothing but artillery
could clear them. In this desperate situation a
parley took place, and on the 16th of October
the whole army surrendered to General Gates.
The prize obtained consisted of more than
five thousand prisoners, forty-two pieces of brass
ordnance, seven thousand muskets, clothing for
seven thousand men, with a great quantity of
tents, and other military stores.
Soon after the convention was signed, the
Americans marched into their lines, and were
kept there until the royal army had deposited
their arms at the place appointed. The deli
cacy with which this business was conducted
reflected honor on the American general. Nor
did the politeness of Gates end here. Every
circumstance was withheld that could constitute
a triumph in the American army. The captive
general was received by his conqueror with re
spect and kindness. A number of the principal
officers of both armies met at General Gates's
quarters, and for a while seemed to forget, in
social and convivial pleasures, that they had
been enemies.
General Wilkinson gives the following ac
count of the meeting between General Burgoyne
and General Gates :
"General Gates, advised of Burgoyne's ap
proach, met him at the head of his camp, Bur
goyne in a rich royal uniform, and Gates in a
plain blue frock. When they had approached

110

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

nearly within sword's length, they reined up
and halted. I then named the gentlemen, and
General Burgoyne, raising his hat most grace
fully, said, ' The fortune of war, General Gates,
has made me your prisoner ;' to which the con
queror, returning a courtly salute, promptly re
plied, ' I shall always be ready to bear testimony
that it has not been through any fault of your
Excellency.' "
The thanks of Congress were voted to Gen
eral Gates and his army ; and a medal of gold,
in commemoration of this great event, was or
dered to be struck, to be presented to him by
the president, in the name of the United States.
It was not long after this that the wonderful
discovery was supposed to be made, that the illus
trious Washington was incompetent to the task
of conducting the operations of the American
army, and that General Gates, if elevated to the
chief command, would speedily ameliorate the
condition of affairs. There were those who
imputed to General Gates himself a principal
agency in the affair, which, however, he prompt
ly disavowed. But certain it is, that a private
correspondence was maintained between him
and the intriguing General Conway, in which
the measures pursued by Washington are criti
cised and reprobated, and in one of Conway's
letters, he pointedly ascribes our want of success
to a weak general and bad counsellors. General
Gates, on finding that Washington had been
apprised of the correspondence, addressed his
Excellency, requesting that he would disclose
the name of his informant ; and in violation of
the rules of decorum, he addressed the com
mander-in-chief on a, subject of extreme delicacy,
in an open letter transmitted to the president of
Congress. Washington, however, did not hesi
tate to disclose the name and the circumstances
which brought the affair to light. General
Gates, then, with inexcusable disingenuousness,
attempted to vindicate the conduct of Conway,
and to deny that the letter contained the repre
hensible expressions in question, but utterly re
fused to produce the original letter. This sub
ject, however, was so ably and candidly dis
cussed by Washington, as to cover his adversary
with shame and humiliation. It was thought
inexcusable in Gates, that he neglected to com

municate to the commander-in-chief an account
of so important an event as the capture of the
British army at Saratoga, but left his Excellen
cy to obtain the information by common report.
Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, relates
the following anecdote : " Mr. T  , an ensign
in our regiment, has, for some time, discovered
symptoms of mental derangement. Yesterday
he intruded himself at General Gates's head
quarters, and after some amusing conversation,
he put himself in the attitude of devotion, and
prayed that God would pardon General Gates
for endeavoring to supersede that god-like man,
Washington. The general appeared to be much
disturbed, and directed Mr. Pierce, his aid-de
camp, to take him away."
On the 13th of June, 1780, General Gates
was appointed to the command of the southern
army. Rich in fame from the field of Saratoga,
he hastened to execute the high and important
trust ; and the arrival of an officer so exalted in
reputation, had an immediate and happy effect
on the spirits of the soldiery and the hopes of
the people. It wras anticipated that he who had
humbled Great Britain on the heights of the
Hudson, and liberated New York from a for
midable invasion, would prove no less successful
in the South, and become the deliverer of Caro
lina and Georgia from lawless rapine and military
rule. But anticipations were vain, and the best
founded hopes were blighted ! In the first and
only encounter he had with Lord Cornwallis, at
Camden, August 15th, he suffered a total defeat,
and was obliged to fly from the enemy for per
sonal safety.
Proudly calculating on the weight of his name,
and too confident in his own superiority, he
slighted the counsel which he ought to have re
spected, and hurrying impetuously into the field
of battle, his tide of popularity ebbed as fast at
Camden as it had flowed at Saratoga.
It would be great injustice, however, to at
tribute the misfortune altogether to the com
mander, under his peculiar circumstances. A
large proportion of his force consisted of raw
militia, who were panic-struck, and fled at the
first fire ; — their rout was absolute and irretriev
able. In vain did Gates attempt to rally them.
That their speed might be the greater, they

Chap. XIX.J

DOCUMENTS.

Ill

threw away their arms and accoutrements, and
dashed into the woods and swamps for safety.
A rout more perfectly wild and disorderly, or
marked with greater consternation and dismay,
was never witnessed. Honor, manhood, coun
try, home, — every recollection sacred to the
feelings of the soldier, and the soul of the brave,
was merged in an ignominious love of life.
From the moment General Gates assumed the
command in the South, his former judgment and
fortune seemed to forsake him. He was anxious
to come to action immediately, and to termi
nate the war by a few bold and energetic meas
ures ; and two days after his arrival in camp he
began his march to meet the enemy, without
properly estimating his force.
The active spirits of the place being roused
and encouraged by the presence of a consider
able army, and daily flocking to the standard of
their country, General Gates, by a delay of ac
tion, had much to gain in point of numbers.
To the prospects of the enemy, on the contrary,
delay would have been ruinous. To them there
was no alternative but immediate battle and
victory, or immediate retreat. Such, however,
was the nature of the country, and the distance
and relative position of the two armies, that to
compel the Americans to action was impossible.
The imprudence of the American general in
hazarding an engagement, at this time, is fur
ther manifested by the fact, that in troops, on
whose firmness he could safely rely, he was
greatly inferior to his foe, they amounting to
sixteen hundred veteran and highly disciplined
regulars, and he having less than a thousand
continentals. General Gates having retreated to Salisbury,
and thence to Hillsborough, he there succeeded
in collecting around him the fragments of an
army. Being soon after reinforced by several
small bodies of regulars and militia, he again
advanced towards the South, and took post in
Charlotte. Here he continued in command un
til the 5th day of October, fifty days after his
defeat at Camden, when Congress passed a res
olution requiring the commander-in-chief to or
der a court of inquiry on his conduct, as com
mander of the southern army, and to appoint
some other officer to that command. The in

quiry resulted in his acquittal ; and it was the
general opinion that he was not treated by Con
gress with that delicacy, or indeed gratitude,
that was due to an officer of his acknowledged
merit. He, however, received the order of his
supersedure and suspension, and resigned the
command to General Greene with becoming
dignity, as is manifested, much to his credit, in
the following order :
Head-quarters, Charlotte, Sd December, 1780. )
Parole, Springfield — countersign, Greene. )
" The Honorable Major-general Greene, who
arrived yesterday afternoon in Charlotte, being
appointed by his Excellency General Washing
ton, with the approbation of the honorable Con
gress, to the command of the southern army,
all orders will, for the future, issue from him,
and all reports are to be made to him.
" General Gates returns his sincere and grate
ful thanks to the southern army for their per
severance, fortitude, and patient endurance of
all the hardships and sufferings they have under
gone while under his command. He anxiously
hopes their misfortunes will cease therewith, and
that victory, and the glorious advantages of
it, may be the future portion of the southern
army." General Greene had already been, and con
tinued to be, the firm advocate of the reputation
of General Gates, particularly if he heard it as
sailed with asperity ; and still believed and as
serted, that if there was any mistake in the con
duct of Gates, it was in hazarding an action at
all against such superior force ; and when in
formed of his appointment to supersede him,
declared his confidence in his military talents,
and his willingness " to serve under him."
General Gates was reinstated in his military
command in the main army, in 1782; but the
great scenes of war were now passed, and he
could only participate in the painful scene of a
final separation.
In the midst of his misfortunes General Gates
was called to mourn an afflicting dispensation of
Providence, in the death of his only son. Major
Garden has recorded the following affecting an
ecdote, which he received from Dr. William
Reed:

172

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV,

"Having occasion to call on General Gates
relative to the business of the department under
my immediate charge, I found him traversing
the apartment which he occupied under the in
fluence of high excitement; his agitation was
excessive — every feature of his countenance,
every gesture betrayed it. Official dispatches
informing him that he was superseded, and that
the command of the southern army had been
transferred to General Greene, had just been
received and perused by him. His countenance,
however, betrayed no expression of irritation or
resentment ; it was sensibility alone that caused
his emotion. An open letter, which he held in
his hand, was often raised to his lips and kissed
with devotion, while the exclamation repeatedly
escaped them — ' Great man ! Noble, generous
procedure !' When the tumult of his mind had
subsided, and his thoughts found utterance, he,
with strong expression of feeling, exclaimed :
' I have received this day a communication from
the commander-in-chief, which has conveyed
more consolation to my bosom, more ineffable
delight to my heart, than I had believed it pos
sible for it ever to have felt again. With af
fectionate tenderness he sympathizes with me in
my domestic misfortunes, and condoles with me
on the loss I have sustained by the recent death
of an only son ; and then "with peculiar delicacy,
lamenting my misfortune in battle, assures me
that his confidence in my zeal and capacity is
so little impaired, that the command of the right
wing of the army will be bestowed on me so
soon as I can make it convenient to join him.' "
After the peace, he retired to his farm in
Berkeley county, Virginia, where he remained
until the year 1790, when he went to reside in
New York, having first emancipated his slaves,
and made a pecuniary provision for such as were
not able to provide for themselves. Some of
them would not leave him, but continued in his
family. On his arrival at New York, the freedom of
the city was presented to him. In 1800 he ac
cepted a seat in the legislature, but he retained
it no longer than he conceived his services might
be useful to the cause of liberty, which he never
abandoned. His political opinions did not separate him

from many respectable citizens, whose views
differed widely from his own. He had a hand
some person, and was gentlemanly in his man
ners, remarkably courteous to all, and gave in
disputable marks of a social, amiable, and benev
olent disposition. A few weeks before his death,
he closed a letter to a friend in the following
words : " I am very weak, and have evident signs
of an approaching dissolution. But I have lived
long enough, since I have lived to see a mighty
people animated with a spirit to be free, and
governed by transcendent abilities and honor."
He died without posterity, at his residence near
New York, on the 10th day of April, 1806
aged 78 years.

[F.]
BRIGADIER-GENERAL COUNT PULASKI.
This gallant soldier was a native of Poland,
whose disastrous history is well known. Vainly
struggling to restore the lost independence of
his country, he was forced to seek personal
safety by its abandonment. Pulaski, with a
few men, in the year 1771, carried off King
Stanislaus from the middle of his capital, though
surrounded by a numerous body of guards and
a Russian army. The king soon escaped, and
declared Pulaski an outlaw. Hearing of the
glorious struggle in which we were engaged,
he hastened to the wilds of America, and asso
ciated himself with our perils and our fortunes
Congress honored him with the commission of
brigadier-general, with a view, as was rumored,
of placing him at the head of the American cav
alry, the line of service in which he had been
bred. But his ignorance of our language, and
the distaste of our officers to foreign superior
ity, stifled this project. He was then authorize^
to raise a legionary corps, appointing his own
officers. Indefatigable and persevering, the count col
lected about two hundred infantry and two hun
dred horse, made up of all sorts, chiefly of for
eign birth. With these he took the field, and
after serving some time in the northern army,
was sent to the South, and fell at the battle ot
Savannah. There slumbers the gallant Pole,

Chap. XIX.]

DOCUMENTS.

173

the immortal Pulaski, who threw himself into
the arms of America, and professed himself the
champion of her rights, and in the unfortunate
affair of Savannah, sealed with his blood the
rising liberties of his adopted country.
He was sober, diligent, and intrepid, gentle
manly in his manners, and amiable in heart.
He was very reserved, and when alone betrayed
strong evidence of deep melancholy. Those
who knew him intimately, spoke highly of the
sublimity of his virtue, and the constancy of his
friendship. Commanding this heterogeneous
corps, badly equipped and worse mounted, this
brave Pole encountered difficulties and sought
danger. Nor is there a doubt, if he had been
conversant in our language, and better acquaint
ed with our customs and country, he would have
become one of our most conspicuous and useful
officers. General Lee, to whom we are indebted for
this sketch, gives the following account in his
memoirs of the attack on Savannah, where it
will be found the intrepid Pulaski made a gal
lant effort to retrieve the fortune of the day :
On the 9th of October, 1779, the allied troops,
under the Count D'Estaing and General Lin
coln, moved to the assault. The serious stroke
having been committed to two columns, one
was led by D'Estaing and Lincoln united, the
other by Count Dillon ; the third column moved
upon the enemy's centre and left, first to attract
attention, and lastly to press any advantage
which might be derived from the assault by
our left.
The troops acted well their parts, and the
issue hung for some time suspended. Dillon's
column, mistaking its route in the darkness of
the morning, failed in co-operation, and very
much reduced the force of the attack ; while
D'Estaing and Lincoln, concealed by the same
darkness, drew with advantage near the ene
my's lines undiscovered. Notwithstanding this
loss of concert in assault by the two columns
destined to carry the enemy, noble and deter
mined was the advance. The front of the first
was greatly thinned by the foe, sheltered in his
Vol. II.— 23

strong and safe defences, and aided by batteries
operating not only in front but in flank.
Regardless of the fatal fire from their covered
enemy, this unappalled column, led by Lincoln
and D'Estaing, forced the abattis and planted
their standards on the parapet. All was gone,
could this lodgment have been maintained.
Maitland's comprehensive eye saw the menacing
blow, and his vigorous mind seized the means
of warding it off. He drew from the disposable
force the grenadiers and marines nearest to the
point gained. This united corps, under Lieu
tenant-colonel Glazier, assumed with joy the
arduous task to recover the lost ground. With
unimpaired strength it fell upon the worried
head of the victorious column, who, though
piercing the enemy in one point, had not spread
along the parapet, and the besieged bringing up
superior force, victory was suppressed in its
birth. The triumphant standards were torn
down, and the gallant soldiers who had gone so
far towards the goal of conquest were tumbled
into the ditch, and driven through the abattis.
About the time that Maitland was preparing
this critical movement, Count Pulaski, at the
head of two hundred horse, threw himself upon
the works to force his way into the enemy's rear.
Receiving a mortal wound, this brave officer
fell; and his fate arrested the gallant effort
which might have changed the issue of the day.
Repulsed in every point of attack, the allied
generals drew off their troops. The retreat was
effected in good order, no attempt to convert it
into rout being made by the British general.
Count D'Estaing, who, with General Lincoln,
had courted danger to give effect to the assault,
was wounded. Captain Tawes, of the provin
cial troops, signalized himself by his intrepidity
in defending the redoubts committed to his
charge, the leading points of our assault. He
fell dead at the gate, with his sword plunged
into the body of the third enemy whom he had
slain. Pulaski died two days after the action, and
Congress resolved that a monument should be
erected to his memory.

CHAPTER XX.
1781.
PREPARATIONS POR THE CAMPAIGN.
Great Britain's new enemies.— Armed neutrality. — Henry Laurens captured. — Gloomy state of affairs in America. —
The army. — Its weakness and destitution. — Continental hills cease to circulate. — Congress calls on the States for
supplies. — Impressment resorted to. — Indian war and invasion from Canada threatened. — Insurrection of the
Pennsylvania troops. — Wayne not ahle to quell it. — The mutineers march to Princeton. — Met by committee,
governor, and council. — Clinton tries to gain over the mutineers. — Fails. — They are satisfied by a compromise. —
Washington's views of this affair. — New Jersey troops revolt, and are speedily quelled by Washington's order.
— Clinton again disappointed. — Position of Congress. — Finances. — Bank. — Patriotism of Robert Morris. — Foreign
loan required. — Colonel Laurens sent to France to solicit one. — Affairs at the South. — Hopes of the British min
istry. — Extract from Washington's journal.— Change in the system of operations pursued by the British. — Exten
sive operations at the South.— Washington's agency in it indirect. — His noble sentiments in regard to the
threatened destruction of his property at Mount Vernon. — Exceedingly obstinate quarrel between Vermont and
New York. — Congress attempts to reconcile them. — Offends both parties. — Washington takes the matter in hand,
and satisfies both parties.

The contest between Great Britain
and her revolted colonies had involved
her in other wars. Spain had already
joined with France in the alliance
against her, and the Dutch were now
drawn into the contest. Great Britain
had claimed and exercised what she
called the " right of search," which in
cluded the right to seize the property
of an enemy, wherever found, at sea.
The Dutch, who had an extensive car
rying trade with France, being plun
dered by the British under their inso
lent " right of search," were already
preparing to join the other allies, and
commence open hostilities.
The next act in the drama was the
formation of the armed neutrality, de

nying the "right of search," and de
claring that free ships malee free goods.
Catharine II. of Russia was at its head.
Sweden and Denmark immediately
joined it. It was resolved that neutral
ships should enjoy a free navigation,
even from port to port, and on the
coasts of the belligerent powers ; that
all effects belonging to the subjects of
the said belligerent powers, should be
looked upon as free on board such neu
tral ships, except only such goods as
were stipulated to be contraband ; and
that no port should be considered un
der blockade, unless there should be a
sufficient force before it to render the
blockade effectual. The other Euro
pean powers were invited to join this

Chap. XX.]

PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN.

175

1T80.

confederacy. France and Spain agreed
to do so at once ; Portugal hesitated,
and declined; and the United Prov
inces delayed for a time their answer.
The Emperor of Germany and the King
of Prussia joined the armed neutrality
in 1781.Meanwhile, Henry Laurens having
been taken prisoner on his way to Hol
land to solicit a loan for the
United States, and his papers
having made the British ministry ac
quainted with the fact that overtures
for a treaty between Holland and
America were under consideration, Eng
land, at the close of 1780, resolved upon
a war with the States General. Thus
England, by this step, without friend or
allies, prepared to wage, single-handed,
the contest with enemies in every quar
ter of the globe.
In the beginning of the year 1781,
the affairs of the American Union wore
a gloomy and alarming aspect. Vigor
ous and united efforts were needful ;
but all seemed feeble and irresolute.
The people were heartily tired of the
war ; and, though no better affected to
the parent State than before, yet they
earnestly desired deliverance from the
multiplied miseries of the protracted
struggle. The alliance with France had prom
ised a speedy termination to the war ;
but hitherto, while its existence made
the Americans comparatively remiss in
their own exertions to prosecute hos
tilities, the French fleet and army had
performed no important service.

Congress had called for an army of
thirty-seven thousand men, to be in
camp on the 1st of January. The res
olution, as usual, was too late ; but even
although it had been promulgated in
due time, so large a force could not
have been brought into the field. The
deficiencies and delays on the part of
the several States exceeded all reason
able anticipation. At no time during
this active and interesting campaign
did the regular force, drawn from Penn
sylvania to Georgia inclusive, amount
to three thousand men. So late as the
month of April, the States from New
Jersey to New Hampshire inclusive had
furnished only five thousand infantry ;
but this force was slowly and gradually
increased, till, in the month of May,
including cavalry and artillery, which
never exceeded one thousand men, it
presented a total of about seven thou
sand, of whom upwards of four thou
sand might have been relied on in ac
tive service. A considerable part of this
small force arrived in camp too late to
acquire, during the campaign, that dis
cipline which is essential to military suc
cess. Inadequate as this army was for
asserting the independence of the coun
try, the prospect of being unable to
support it was still more alarming. The
men were in rags: clothing had long
been expected from Europe, but had
not yet arrived, and the disappointment
was severely felt.
The magazines were ill supplied ; the
troops were often almost starving ; and
the army ready to be dissolved for

176

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

want of food. The arsenals were nearly
empty. Instead of having the requi
sites of a well-appointed army, every
thing was deficient ; and there was lit
tle prospect of being better provided,
for money was as scarce as food and
military stores. Congress had resolved
to issue no more bills on . the credit of
the Union, and the care of supplying
the army was devolved upon the sev
eral States, according to a rule estab
lished by that body. Even when the
States had collected the specified pro
visions, the quartermaster-general had
no funds to pay for the transportation
of them to the army; to accomplish
which, military impressment was re
sorted to in a most offensive degree.
Congress was surrounded with difficul
ties ; the several States were callous
and dilatory, and affairs generally wore
an aspect of debility and decay.
To deepen the general gloom, there
were portentous rumors of preparations
for savage warfare along the whole ex
tent of the western frontier, and of an
invasion on the side of Canada. In the
midst of financial difficulties, and appre
hensions of attack both from foreign
and domestic enemies, a new and alarm
ing danger appeared in a quarter where
it was little expected, and which, threat
ened to consummate the ruin of Ameri
can independence. The privations and
sufferings of the troops had been un
commonly great. To the usual hard
ships of a military life were added na
kedness and hunger, under that rigor
of climate which whets the appetite and

renders clothing absolutely necessary.
By the depreciation of the paper cur
rency their pay was little more than
nominal, and it was many months in
arrear. Besides those evils which were com
mon to the whole army, the troops of
Pennsylvania imagined that they labor
ed under peculiar grievances. Their
officers had engaged them for three
years, or during the war. On the ex
piration of three years, the soldiers
thought themselves entitled to a dis
charge : the officers alleged that they
were engaged for the war. The large
bounties given to those who were not
bound by previous enlistment height
ened the discontent of the soldiers, and
made them more zealous in asserting
what they thought their rights. In the
first transports of their patriotism they
had readily enlisted ; but men will not
long willingly submit to immediate and
unprofitable hardships, in the prospect
of distant and contingent rewards.
The discontents engendered by the
causes now mentioned had for some
time been increasing, and on the 1st of
January, 1781, broke out into the open
and almost universal mutiny of the
troops of Pennsylvania. On a signal
given, the greater part of the non-com
missioned officers and privates paraded
under arms, declaring their intention of
marching to the seat of Congress at
Philadelphia to obtain a redress of
grievances, or to abandon the service.
The officers made every exertion to
bring them back to their duty, but in

Chap. XX.]

PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN.

177

vain : in the attempt, a captain was
killed and several other persons wound
ed. General Wayne interposed ; but,
on cocking his pistols at some of the
most audacious of the mutineers, sev
eral bayonets were at his breast, the
men exclaiming, " We respect you — -we
love you ; but you are a dead man if
you fire ! Do not mistake us : we are
not going to the enemy ; on the con
trary, were they to come out, you
should see us fight under you with as
much resolution and alacrity as ever :
but we wish a redress of grievances, and
will no longer be trifled with." Such
of the Pennsylvania troops as had at
first taken no part in the disturbance
were prevailed on to join the mutineers ;
and the whole, amounting to thirteen
hundred men, with six field-pieces,
marched from Morristown under tem
porary officers of their own election.
Washington's head-quarters were then
at New Windsor, on the North River.
Next day General Wayne and colo
nels Butter and Stewart, officers who in
a high degree enjoyed the confidence
and affection of the troops, followed the
mutineers ; but, though civilly received,
they could not succeed in adjusting the
differences, or in restoring subordina
tion. On the third day the mutineers
resumed their march, and in the morn
ing arrived at Princeton. Congress and
the Pennsylvania government, as well
as Washington, were much alarmed by
this mutiny, fearing the example might
be contagious, and lead to the dissolu
tion of the whole army. Therefore a

committee of Congress, with President
Reed* at their head, and some members
of the executive council of Pennsylva
nia, set out from Philadelphia for the
purpose of allaying this dangerous com
motion. Sir Henry Clinton, who heard of the
mutiny on the morning of the 3d, was
equally active in endeavoring to turn it
to the advantage of his government.
He ordered a large corps to be in readi
ness to march on a moment's notice, and
sent two American spies by way of Am-
boy, and two by way of Elizabethtown,
as agents from himself to treat with the
mutineers. But two of the persons em
ployed were actually spies on himself,
and soon disclosed his proposals to the
American authorities. The two real
spies, on reaching Princeton, were seized
by the mutineers, and afterwards deliv
ered up to General Wayne, who had
them tried and executed on the lOth.f
At first the mutineers declined leav
ing Princeton ; but, finding their de
mands would be substantially complied
with, they marched to Trenton on the
9th, and before the 15th the matter
was so far settled that the committee
of Congress left Trenton and returned
to Philadelphia. All who had enlisted
for three years, or during the war, were
to be discharged ; and in cases where
the terms of enlistment could not be
produced, the oath of the soldier was
to be received as evidence on the point.

« General Joseph Reed, formerly secretary to Wash
ington. f See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

178

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

They were to receive immediate certifi
cates for the depreciation on their pay,
and their arrears were to be settled as
soon as circumstances would admit.
On those terms about one-half of the
Pennsylvania troops obtained their dis
charge ; numbers of them having, as
afterwards appeared, made false decla
rations concerning the terms of their
enlistment. Intelligence of this mutiny was com
municated to Washington at New
Windsor, before any accommodation
had taken place. Though he had been
long accustomed to decide in hazardous
and difficult situations, yet it was no
easy matter in this delicate crisis to de
termine on the most proper course to be
pursued. His personal influence had sev
eral times extinguished rising mutinies.
The first scheme that presented itself
was, to repair to the camp of the muti
neers, and try to recall them to a sense
of their duty ; but on mature reflection
this was declined. He well knew that
their claims were founded in justice, but
he could not reconcile himself to wound
the discipline of his army by yielding
to their demands while they were in
open revolt with arms in their hands.
He viewed the subject in all its rela
tions, and was well apprised that the
principal grounds of discontent were
not peculiar to the Pennsylvania line,
but common to all the troops.
If force was requisite, he had none to
spare without hazarding West Point.
If concessions were unavoidable, they
had better be made by any person than

the commander-in-chief. After that due
deliberation which he always gave to
matters of importance, he determined
against a personal interference, and to
leave the whole to the civil authorities,
which had already taken it up ; but at
the same time prepared for those meas
ures which would become necessary if
no accommodation took place. This
resolution was communicated to Wayne,
with a caution to regard the situation
of the other lines of the army in any
concessions which might be made, and
with a recommendation to draw the
mutineers over the Delaware, with a
view to increase the difficulty of com
municating with the enemy in New
York. The result, however, showed
that this last was an unnecessary pre
caution. The success of the Pennsylvania troops,
in exacting from their country by vio
lence what had been denied to the
claims of equity, produced a similar
spirit of insubordination in another di
vision of the army. On the night of the
20th of January, about one hundred
and sixty of the Jersey brigade, which
was quartered at Pompton, complaining
of grievances similar to those of the
Pennsylvania line, and hoping for equal
success, rose in arms, and marched to
Chatham, with the view of prevailing
on some of their comrades stationed
there to join them. Their number was
not formidable ; and Washington, know
ing that he might depend on the fidel
ity of the greater part of his troops, de
tached General Robert Howe against

Chap. XX.]

PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN.

179

the mutineers, with orders to force
them to unconditional submission, and
to execute some of the most turbulent
of them on the spot. These orders
were promptly obeyed, and two of the
ringleaders were put to death.
Sir Henry Clinton, as in the case of
the Pennsylvanians, endeavored to take
advantage of the mutiny of the Jersey
brigade. He sent emissaries to nego
tiate with them, and detached General
Robertson with three thousand, men to
Staten Island, to be in readiness to sup
port them, if they should accede to his
proposals ; but the mutiny was so speed
ily crushed that his emissaries had no
time to act.
The situation of Congress at this time
was trying in the extreme. The con
test was now one for very existence.
A powerful foe was in full strength, in
the heart of the country; they had
great military operations to carry on,
but were almost without an army, and
wholly without money. Their bills of
credit had ceased to be of any worth ;
and they were reduced to the mortify
ing necessity of declaring by their own
acts that this was the fact ; as they no
longer made them a legal tender, or
received them in payment of taxes.
Without money of some kind, an army
could neither be raised nor maintained.
But the greater the exigency, the great
er were the exertions of Congress.
They directed their agents abroad to
borrow, if possible, from France, Spain,
and Holland. They resorted to taxa
tion, although they knew that the meas

ure would be unpopular, and that they
had not the power to enforce their de
cree. The tax laid they apportioned
among the several States, by whose
authority it was to be collected. Per
ceiving that there was great disorder
and waste, or peculation, in the man
agement of the fiscal concerns, they
determined on introducing a thorough
reform, and the strictest economy.
They accordingly appointed as treas
urer, Robert Morris, of Philadelphia;
a man whose pure morals, ardent pa
triotism, and great knowledge of finan
cial concerns, eminently fitted him for
this important station. The zeal and
genius of Morris soon produced the
most favorable results. By means of
the "Bank of North America," to which,
in the course of the year, he obtained
the approbation of Congress, he con
trived to draw out the funds of wealthy
individuals. By borrowing in
the name of the government
from this bank, and pledging for pay
ment the taxes not yet collected, he
was enabled to anticipate them, and
command a ready supply. He also
used his own private credit, which was
good, though that of the government
had failed ; and, at one time, bills signed
by him individually, were in circula
tion, to the amount of five hundred and
eighty-one thousand dollars*
The establishment of a revenue sub
ject to the exclusive control and direc
tion of the continental government, was
connected inseparably with the restora
° See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.

1781.

180

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

tion of credit. The efforts therefore to
negotiate a foreign loan were accom
panied by resolutions requesting the
respective States to place a fund under
the control of Congress, which should
be both permanent and productive. A
resolution was passed, recommending
the respective States to vest a power in
Congress to levy for the use of the
United States a duty of five per centum
advalorem on all goods imported into
any of them ; and also on all prizes
condemned in any of the American
courts of admiralty.
This fund was to be appropriated to
the payment of both the principal and
interest of all debts contracted in the
prosecution of the war ; and was to con
tinue until those debts should be com
pletely discharged.
Congress, at that time, contained sev
eral members who perceived the advan
tages which would result from bestow
ing on the government of the nation
the full power of regulating commerce,
and, consequently, of increasing the im
ports as circumstances might render ad
visable ; but State influence predomina
ted, and they were overruled by great
majorities. Even the inadequate plan
which they did recommend was never
adopted. Notwithstanding the great
ness of the exigency, and the pressure
of the national wants, never, during the
existence of the confederation, did all
the States unite in assenting to this rec
ommendation ; so unwilling are men
possessed of power to place Lt in the
hands of others.

About the same time a reform was
introduced into the administration, the
necessity of which had been long per
ceived. From a misplaced prejudice
against institutions sanctioned by ex
perience, all the great executive du
ties had been devolved either on com
mittees of Congress, or on boards con
sisting of several members. This un
wieldy and expensive system had main
tained itself against all the efforts of
reason and public utility. But the
scantiness of the national means at
length prevailed over prejudice, and
the several committees and boards
yielded to a secretary for foreign af
fairs, a superintendent of finance, a sec
retary of war, and a secretary of ma
rine. But so miserably defective was
the organization of Congress, as an ex
ecutive body, that the year had far ad
vanced before this measure, the utility
of which all acknowledged, could be
carried into complete operation by ma
king all the appointments.
The war had continued much longer
than was originally anticipated ; and
the natural resources of the country,
mismanaged by the inexperience of the
government and its ignorance of the
principles of political economy, were so
much exhausted, that it became appa
rent the war could not be carried on
without a foreign loan ; and France, suf
ficiently embarrassed with her own af
fairs, was the only country to which
Congress could look for pecuniary aid.
Accordingly, Lieutenant-colonel Lau
rens, who had been one of Washington's

Chap. XX.]

PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN.

181

aids, was employed on this mission ; and,
besides endeavoring to negotiate a loan,
was instructed to press on the French
monarch the advantage of maintaining
a naval superiority in the American
seas. While the energies of America
were thus paralyzed by the financial
difficulties of Congress, the mutinous
spirit of part of the army, and the sel
fishness and apathy of several of the
States, the British interest in the prov
inces seemed in a prosperous condition.
General Greene, as we shall presently
see, was maintaining a doubtful and
hazardous struggle against Cornwallis
on the northern frontier of North Car
olina. A British detachment from New
York had made a deep impression on
Virginia, where the resistance was nei
ther so prompt nor so vigorous as had
been expected from the strength of that
State and the unanimity of its citizens.
On the 1st of May, 1781, Washington
commenced a military journal. The
following statement is extracted from
it: "I begin at this epoch a concise
journal of mihtary transactions, &c. I
lament not having attempted it from
the commencement of tha war, in aid of
my memory ; and wish the multiplicity
of matter which continually surrounds
me, and the embarrassed state of our
affairs, which is momentarily calling the
attention to- perplexities of one kind or
another, may not defeat altogether, or
so interrupt my present intention and
plan, as to render it of little avail.
" To have the clearer understanding
of the entries which may follow, it
Vol. II.— 24

would be proper to recite in detail our
wants and our prospects ; but this alone
would be a work of much time and
great magnitude. It may suffice to give
the sum of them, which I shall do in a
few words, viz. :
" Instead of having magazines filled
with provisions, we have a scanty pit
tance scattered here and there in the
distant States.
" Instead of having our arsenals well
supplied with military stores, they are
poorly provided, and the workmen all
leaving them. Instead of having the
various articles of field-equipage in read
iness, the quartermaster-general is but
now applying to the several States to
provide these things for their troops
respectively. Instead of having a regu
lar system of transportation established
upon credit, or funds in the quarter
master's hands to defray the contingent
expenses thereof, we have neither the
one nor the other ; and all that busi
ness, or a great part of it, being done
by impressment, we are daily and hour
ly oppressing the people, souring their
tempers, and alienating their affections.
Instead of having the regiments com
pleted agreeable to the requisitions of
Congress, scarce any State in the Union
has at this hour one-eighth part of its
quota in the field, and there is little
prospect of ever getting more than half.
In a word, instead of having any thing
in readiness to take the field, we have
nothing ; and, instead of having the
prospect of a glorious offensive cam
paign before us, we have a bewildered

182

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

and gloomy prospect of a defensive one,
unless we should receive a powerful aid
of ships, troops, and money from our
generous allies, and these at present are
too contingent to build upon."
While the Americans were suffering
the complicated calamities which intro
duced the year 1781, their adversaries
were carrying on the most extensive
plan of operations against them which
had ever been attempted. It had often
been objected to the British command
ers, that they had not conducted the
war in the manner most likely to effect
the subjugation of the revolted prov
inces. Military critics found fault with
them for keeping a large army idle at
New York, which, they said, if properly
applied, would have been sufficient to
make successful impressions at one and
the same time on several of the States.
The British seemed to have calculated
the campaign of 1781 with a view to
make an experiment of the comparative
merit of this mode of conducting mili
tary operations. The war raged in that
year not only in the vicinity of the
British head-quarters at New York, but
in Georgia, South Carolina, North Car
olina, and in Virginia.
In this extensive warfare, Washing
ton could have no immediate agency in
the southern department. His advice
in corresponding with the officers com
manding in Virginia, the Carolinas, and
Georgia, was freely and beneficially giv
en, and as large detachments sent to
their aid as could be spared consistently
with the security of West Point.

In conducting the war, his invariable
maxim was, to suffer the devastation of
property, rather than hazard great and
essential objects for its preservation.
While the war raged in Virginia, Thom
as Jefferson, the governor, its represent
atives in Congress, and other influential
citizens, urged his return to the defence
of his native State. But, considering
America as his country, and the gen
eral safety as his object, he deemed it
of more importance to remain on the
Hudson. There he was not only se
curing the most important post in the
United States, but concerting a grand
plan of combined operations, which, as
shall soon be related, not only deliv
ered Virginia, but all the States, from
the calamities of the war.
In Washington's disregard of prop
erty when in competition with national
objects, he was in no respect partial to
his own. While the British were in
the Potomac, they sent a flag to Mount
Vernon, requiring a supply of fresh
provisions. Refusals of such demands
were often followed by burning the
houses and other property near the
river. To prevent this catastrophe, the
person intrusted with the management
of the estate went on board with the
flag, and carrying a supply of provis
ions, requested that the buildings and
improvements might be spared. For
this he received a severe reprimand
in a letter to him, in which Washing
ton observed : " It would have been a
less painful circumstance to me to have
heard, that, in consequence of your non-

Chap. XX.]

PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN.

183

compliance with the request of the Brit
ish, they had burned my house and laid
my plantation in ruins. You ought to
have considered yourself as my repre
sentative, and should have reflected on
the bad example of communicating
with the enemy, and making a volun
tary offer of refreshment to them, with
a view to prevent a conflagration."
To the other difficulties with which
Washington had to contend in the pre
ceding years of the war, a new one
was about this time added. While
the whole force at his disposal was un
equal to the defence of the country
against the common enemy, a civil war
was on the point of breaking out among
his fellow-citizens. The claims of Ver
mont to be a separate independent
State, and of the State of New York to
their country as within its chartered
limits, together with open offers from
the royal commanders to establish and
defend them as a British province, pro
duced a serious crisis, which called for
the interference of the American chief.
This was the more necessary, as the
governments of New York and Ver-
o mont were both resolved on exercising
a jurisdiction over the same people and
the same territory. Congress, wishing
to compromise the controversy on mid
dle ground, resolved, in August, 1781,
to accede to the independence of Ver
mont on certain conditions, and within
certain specified limits, which they sup
posed would satisfy both parties. Con
trary to their expectations, this media
torial act of the national legislature was

rejected by Vermont, and yet was so
disagreeable to the legislature of New
York as to draw from them a spirited
protest against it. Vermont complained
that Congress interfered in their inter
nal police ; New York viewed the re
solve as a virtual dismemberment of
their State, which was a constituent
part of the confederacy. Washington,
anxious for the peace of the Union, sent
a message to Governor Chittenden of
Vermont, desiring to know " what were
the real designs, views, and intentions
of the people of Vermont; whether
they would be satisfied with the inde
pendence proposed by Congress, or had
it seriously in contemplation to join
with the enemy, and become a British
province." The governor returned an
unequivocal answer : " That there were
no people on the continent more at
tached to the cause of America than
the people of Vermont, but they were
fully determined not to be put under
the government of New York ; that
they would oppose this by force of
arms, and would join with the British
in Canada rather than submit to that
government." While both States were
dissatisfied with Congress, and their an
imosities, from increasing violence and
irritation, became daily more alarming,
Washington, aware of the extremes to
which all parties were tending, returned
an answer to Governor Chittenden, in
which were these expressions: "It is
not my business, neither do I think it
necessary now to discuss the origin of
the right of a number of inhabitants to

184

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

that tract of country formerly distin
guished by the name of the New Hamp
shire grants, and now known by that of
Vermont. I will take it for granted
that their right was good, because Con
gress, by their resolve of the 17 th of
August, imply it, and by that of the
21st are willing fully to confirm it, pro
vided the new State is confined to cer
tain described bounds. It appears,
therefore, to me, that the dispute of
boundary is the only one that exists,
and that being removed, all other diffi
culties would be removed also, and the
matter terminated to the satisfaction of
all parties. You have nothing to do
but withdraw your jurisdiction to the
confines of your old limits, and obtain
an acknowledgment of independence
and sovereignty, under the resolve of
the 21st of August, for so much terri
tory as does not interfere with the an
cient established bounds of New York,
New Hampshire, and Massachusetts.
In my private opinion, while it be
hooves the delegates to do ample justice
to a body of people sufficiently respect
able by their numbers, and entitled by
other claims to be admitted into that
confederation, it becomes them also to
attend to the interests of their constitu
ents, and see that under the appearance
of justice 1o one, they do not materially
injure the rights of others. I am apt

to think this is the prevailing opinion
of Congress."
The impartiality, moderation, and
good sense of this letter, together with
a full conviction of the disinterested
patriotism of the writer, brought round
a revolution in the minds of the legisla
ture of Vermont, and they accepted the
propositions of Congress, though they
had rejected them four months before.
A truce among the contending parties
followed, and the storm blew over.
Thus the personal influence of one man,
derived from his pre-eminent virtues
and meritorious services, extinguished
the sparks of civil discord at the time
they were kindling into flame.*
While Washington, during the early
part of the year 1781, was thus con
tending with every species of dis
couragement and difficulty, prevented
from acting offensively by want of
means, and thus apparently wasting
away the fighting season in compara
tive inaction, the war was actively
raging in the Southern States. To this
grand theatre of hostilities, as interest
ing as they are terrible, we must now
call the reader's attention.
s It was during this dispute between New York and
Vermont that General Ethan Allen, then residing in the
latter State, received large offers from the British to use
his influence to detach Vermont from the Union and an
nex it to Canada. Of course these offers were indignantly
rejected. See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XX.

[A.]
MAJOR-GENERAL ANTHONY WAYNE.
Anthony Wayne, a major-general in the
American army, occupies a conspicuous station
among the heroes and patriots of the American
Revolution. He was born January 1st, 1745, in
Chester county, in the State of Pennsylvania.
His father, Isaac Wayne, a respectable farmer,
was many years a representative for the county
of Chester, in the General Assembly, before the
Revolution. His grandfather, who was distin
guished for his attachment to the principles of
liberty, bore a captain's commission under King
William at the battle of the Boyne. Anthony
Wayne succeeded his father as representative
for the county of Chester in the year 1773, and
from his first appearance in public life distin
guished himself as a firm and decided patriot.
He opposed, with much ability, the unjust de
mands of the mother country, and in connection
with some gentlemen of distinguished talents,
was of material service in preparing the way for
the firm and decisive part which Pennsylvania
took in the general contest.
In 1775, he was appointed to the command
of a regiment, which his influence enabled him
to raise in a few weeks in his native county.
In the same year he was detached under Gener
al Thompson into Canada. In the defeat which
followed, in which General Thompson was made
a prisoner, Colonel Wayne, though wounded,
displayed great gallantry and good conduct in
collecting and bringing off the scattered and
broken bodies of troops.
In the campaign of 1776, he served under
General Gates at Ticonderoga, and was highly
esteemed by that officer for both his bravery

and skill as an engineer. At the close of that
campaign he was created a brigadier-general.
At the battle of Brandywine he behaved with
his usual bravery, and for a long time opposed
the progress of the enemy at Chad's Ford. In
this action, the inferiority of the Americans in
numbers, discipline, and arms gave them little
chance of success ; but the peculiar situation of
the public mind was supposed to require a bat
tle to be risked : the ground was bravely dis
puted, and the action was not considered as
decisive. The spirit of the troops was preserved
by a belief that the loss of the enemy had equal
led their own. As it was the intention of the
American commander-in-chief to hazard another
action on the first favorable opportunity that
should offer, General Wayne was detached, with
his division, to harass the enemy by every means
in his power. The British troops were encamp
ed at Tredyffrin, and General Wayne was sta
tioned about three miles in the rear of their left
wing, near the Paoli tavern ; and from the pre
cautions he had taken he considered himself se
cure ; but about eleven o'clock on the night of
the 20th September, Major-general Gray, having
driven in his pickets, suddenly attacked him
with fixed bayonets. Wayne, unable to with
stand the superior number of assailants, was
obliged to retreat ; but formed again at a small
distance, having lost about one hundred and
fifty killed and wounded. As blame was attach
ed by some of the officers of the army to Gen
eral Wayne, for allowing himself to be surprised
in this manner, he demanded a court-martial,
which, after examining the necessary evidence,
declared that he had done every thing to be ex
pected from an active, brave, and vigilant officer,
and acquitted him with honor.

186

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

A neat marble monument has been recently
erected on the battle-ground to the memory of
the gallant men who fell on the night of the
20th September, 1777.
Shortly after was fought the battle of Ger-
mantown, in which he greatly signalized himself,
by his spirited manner of leading his men into
action. In this action he had one horse shot
under him, and another as he was mounting;
and at the same instant received slight wounds
himself in the left foot and left hand.
In all councils of war, General Wayne was dis
tinguished for supporting the most energetic and
decisive measures. In the one previous to the
battle of Monmouth, he and General Cadwalader
were the only officers decidedly in favor of attack
ing the British army. The American officers are
said to have been influenced by the opinions of
the Europeans. Baron Steuben and generals Lee
and Du Portail, whose military skill was in high
estimation, had warmly opposed an engagement,
as too hazardous. But General Washington,
whose opinion was in favor of an engagement,
made such disposition as would be most likely
to lead to it. In that action, so honorable to
the American arms, General Wayne was con
spicuous in the ardor of his attack. General
Washington, in his letter to Congress, observes :
" Were I to conclude my account of this day's
transactions without expressing my obligations
to the officers of the army in general, I should
do injustice to their merit and violence to my
own feelings. They seemed to vie with each
other in manifesting their zeal and bravery. The
catalogue of those who distinguished themselves
is too long to admit of particularizing individu
als. I cannot, however, forbear mentioning
Brigadier-general Wayne, whose good conduct
and bravery, throughout the whole action, de
serves particular commendation."
Among the many exploits of gallantry and
prowess which shed a lustre on the fame of our
revolutionary army, the storming the fort at
Stony Point has always been considered one of
the most brilliant.
Of this splendid action we have given a de
scription in our narrative of the campaign of
1779. Immediately after the surrender of Stony

Point, General Wayne transmitted to the com
mander-in-chief the following laconic letter :
" Stony Point, July 16, 1779, 1
"2 o'clock, A.M. j
"Dear General — The fort and garrison,
with Col. Johnson, are ours : our officers and
men behaved like men determined to be free.
" Yours, most sincerely,
" Anthony Wayne.
' ' General Washington. ' '
In the campaign of 1781, in which Lord Corn
wallis and a British army were obliged to sur
render prisoners of war, he bore a conspicuous
part. His presence of mind never failed him in
the most critical situations. Of this he gave an
eminent example on the James River. Having
been deceived, by some false information, into a
belief that the British army had passed the river,
leaving but the rear-guard behind, he hastened
to attack the latter before it should also have
effected its passage ; but on pushing through a
morass and wood, instead of the rear-guard, he
found the whole British army drawn up close to
him. His situation did not admit of a moment's
deliberation. Conceiving the boldest to be the
safest measure, he immediately led his small de
tachment, not exceeding eight hundred men, to
the charge, and after a short, but very smart and
close firing, in which he lost one hundred and
eighteen of his men, he succeeded in bringing
off the rest under cover of the wood. Lord
Cornwallis, suspecting the attack to be a feint,
in order to draw him into an ambuscade, would
not permit his troops to pursue.
The enemy having made considerable pro
gress in Georgia, Wayne was dispatched by
General Washington to take command of the
forces in that State, and, after some sanguinary
engagements, succeeded in establishing security
and order. For his services in that State, the
legislature presented him with a valuable farm.
On the peace, which followed shortly after, he
retired to private life ; but in 1789, we find him
a member of the Pennsylvania convention, and
one of those in favor of the present federal con
stitution of the United States.
In the year 1792, he was appointed to succeed
General St. Clair, who had resigned the com-

Chap. XX.]

DOCUMENTS.

187

niand of the army engaged against the Indians
on our western frontier. Wayne formed an en
campment at Pittsburg, and such exemplary
discipline was introduced among the new troops,
that, on their advance into the Indian country,
they appeared like veterans.
The Indians had collected in great numbers,
and it was necessary not only to rout them, but
to occupy their country by a chain of posts, that
should, for the future, check their predatory in
cursions. Pursuing this regular and systematic
mode of advance, the autumn of 1793 found
General Wayne, with his army, at a post in the
wilderness, called Greenville, about six miles in
advance of Fort Jefferson, where he determined
to encamp for the winter, in order to make the
necessary arrangements for opening the cam
paign with effect early in the following spring.
After fortifying his camp, he took possession of
the ground on which the Americans had been
defeated in 1791, which he fortified also, and
called the work Fort Recovery. Here he piously
collected, and, with the honors of war, interred
the bones of the unfortunate although gallant
victims of the 4th of November, 1791. The
situation of the army menacing the Indian vil
lages, effectually prevented any attack on the
white settlements. The impossibility of procur
ing the necessary supplies prevented the march
of the troops till the summer. On the 8th of
August the army arrived at the junction of the
rivers Au Glaize and Miami of the lakes, where
they erected works for the protection of the
stores. About thirty miles from this place the
British had formed a post, in the vicinity of
which the Indians had assembled their whole
force. On the 15th the army again advanced
down the Miami, and on the 18th arrived at the
rapids. On the following day they erected some
works for the protection of the baggage. The
situation of the enemy was reconnoitered, and
they were found posted in a thick wood, in the
rear of the British fort. On the 20th the army
advanced to the attack. The Miami covered
the right flank, and on the left were the mount
ed volunteers, commanded by General Todd.
After marching about five miles, Major Price,

who led the advance, received so heavy a fire
from the Indians, who were stationed behind
the trees, that he was compelled to fall back.
The enemy had occupied a wood in the front of
the British fort, which, from the quantity of
fallen timber, could not be entered by the horse.
The legion was immediately ordered to advance
with trailed arms, and rouse them from their
covert ; the cavalry, under Captain Campbell,
were directed to pass between the Indians and
the river, while the volunteers, led by General
Scott, made a circuit to turn their flank. So
rapid, however, was the charge of the legion,
that before the rest of the army could get into
action, the enemy were completely routed, and
driven through the woods for more than two
miles, and the troops halted within gun-shot of
the British fort. All the Indians' houses and
cornfields were destroyed.
In this decisive action, the whole loss of
General Wayne's army, in killed and wounded,
amounted only to one hundred and seven men.
As hostilities continued on the part of the In
dians, their whole country was laid waste, and
forts established, which effectually prevented
their return.
The success of this engagement destroyed the
enemy's power ; and, in the following year Gen
eral Wayne concluded a definitive treaty of
peace with them.
His life of peril and glory was terminated in
December, 1796. He had shielded his country
from the murderous tomahawk of the savage.
He had established her boundaries. He had
forced her enemies to sue for her protection.
He beheld her triumphant, rich in arts and po
tent in arms. What more could his patriotic
spirit wish to see ? He died in a hut on Presque
Isle, aged about fifty-one years, and was buried
on the shore of Lake Erie.
A few years since his remains were taken up
by his son, Isaac Wayne, Esq., and entombed
in his native county ; and by direction of the
Pennsylvania State Society of the Cincinnati, an
elegant monument was erected. It is constructed
of white marble, of the most correct symmetry
and beauty.

188

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

[B.]
ROBERT MORRIS.
Robert Morris was born in Lancashire, Eng
land, in the month of January, 1733-4, o. s., of
respectable parentage, his father being a mer
chant of some eminence in Liverpool, and ex
tensively engaged in trade with the American
colonies. Mr. Morris, having formed the design
of emigrating, embarked for America, leaving
his son under the care of his grandmother, to
whom he was extremely attached. Having es
tablished himself at Oxford, on the river Tread-
haven, Talbot county, Maryland, he sent to
England for young Morris, who arrived at the
age of thirteen years.
Mr. Morris did not enjoy the benefits of a
classical education. He was placed under the
tuition of one Annan, at that time one of the
few teachers in Philadelphia, and his progress in
learning does not appear to have been very
rapid. His father, at this period, carried on an ex
tensive business as agent for vessels from Liver
pool. Having invited a large party to dine on
board of one of these ships, he was returning to
the shore in the yawl, after the conclusion of
the festivity, when the captain fired a salute in
honor of the occasion, although in opposition to
the expressed injunction of Mr. Morl'is. A wad
from one of the guns unfortunately struck and
inflicted a severe wound in his ann, which mor
tified and caused his death. His memory was
so highly esteemed, that the gentlemen residing
in the vicinity solemnly enjoined in their wills
that his tomb should be preserved inviolate.
His favorite dog could not be enticed fronrthe
body of his deceased master, and died upon the
grave. Mr. Morris was thus left an orphan at the age
of fifteen years. He had previously been placed
by his father with Mr. Charles Willing, at that
time one of the first merchants of Philadelphia,
for the purpose of receiving a commercial edu
cation. Although deprived of the benefit of
parental counsel, his clerkship was characterized
by the greatest fidelity and attention, and he
soon gained the implicit confidence of Mr. Wil
ling.

His extensive mercantile knowledge and close
application to the discharge of his duties, at
tracted the friendship and confidence of Mr.
Thomas Willing, who proposed to him, some
time after the expiration of the term for which
he had engaged himself, to form together a
commercial connection.
This partnership was entered into in the year
1754, and continued until 1793, embracing the
long period of thirty-nine years. Mr. Morris
was the acting partner, and previous to the
commencement of the Revolution, the house
was engaged more extensively in commerce
than any other in Philadelphia.
The unalterable resolution of Mr. Morris, with
respect to his political course of conduct, ap
pears to have been formed in the early part of
the year 1775: the shedding of American blood
in Massachusetts, forever fixed the principles
upon which his resplendent services in the dark
est days of the Revolution were founded, and
extinguished the last glimmering of hope that
the evils and miseries of war might yet be
averted. On St. George's day, 23d of April, 1775, about
one hundred guests and members of the St.
George's Society were assembled at the City
Tavern, in Philadelphia, to celebrate the anni
versary of their tutelary saint. Mr. Morris was
the presiding officer. Reconciliation and a change
of ministry were the phantoms which had lulled
and deluded the American community. About
five o'clock in the afternoon, in the height of
their festivity, when moderate hilarity alone
had attended their libations, the news of the
massacre at Lexington, which occurred four
days previous, was communicated to the com
pany. The change of scene was instantaneous
and appalling : an electric shock could not have
been more suddenly prostrating. The tables
were immediately deserted and the seats over
turned. Mr. Morris and a few members, among
whom was Richard Peters, retained their seats,
and viewed this extraordinary display in silent
astonishment. When the fugitives had retreat
ed, a solemn scene succeeded the merriment and
gayety which, a few moments before, had re
sounded through the hall. After feelingly de
ploring the awful event which separated them

Tainted. "by Cb.a.pp6l,

Joinaon., Ery fc C«? BfWVi Briers , TSewT&ite.

¦¦rff- ¦¦ _w--' e?" rJu-.u-.itl.T^. Jhsr^nt .? ' '^ »-J5rJe;

Chap. XX.]

DOCUMENTS.

189

forever from the British government, the small
party that remained took leave of their patron
saint, and pronounced a solemn requiem over
the painted vapor — reconciliation. Mr. Morris,
in unison with his associates, at that time avow
ed his irrevocable decision as to revolutionary
measures, from which he never deviated.
The appointment of Mr. Morris, by the legis
lature of Pennsylvania, on the 3d of November,
1775, as one of the delegates to the second Con
gress, was his first formal entrance into public
life. Soon after he had assumed his seat in
Congress, he was added to the secret committee
(of which he was the chairman), that had been
formed on the 18th of September, to contract
for the importation of arms, ammunition, and
gunpowder. On the 11th of December he was
appointed a member of the committee to devise
ways and means of furnishing the colonies with
a naval armament ; and their report, embracing
the expediency of augmenting the navy by the
addition of five ships of thirty-two, five of twenty-
eight, and three of twenty-four guns, being
adopted, a naval committee was formed, of
which Mr. Morris was a member, with full pow
ers to carry the plan into execution with all
possible expedition.
In the beginning of 1776 he was conspicuous
in the discussions which attended the regula
tions of trade, and the restrictions under which
it ought to be placed. On the 15th of April,
1776, he was specially commissioned to nego
tiate bills of exchange, with a pledge of indem
nity from Congress should any loss arise from
his responsibility as the endorser. On the 20th
of July he was re-elected a representative of
the State of Pennsylvania.
During the march of the British troops
through the Jerseys in 1776, the removal of
Congress to Baltimore is well known. For
reasons of a commercial nature, Mr. Morris was
left at Philadelphia, to remain as long as cir
cumstances would permit. At this crisis, a let
ter from the commander-in-chief was received
by the government, announcing, that while the
enemy was accurately informed of all his move
ments, he was compelled, from the want of hard
money, to remain, in complete ignorance of their
arrangements, and requiring a certain sum as
Voi. II.— 25

absolutely necessary to the safety of the army.
Information of this demand was sent to Mr.
Morris, in the hope, that through his credit, the
money might be obtained. The communication
reached him at his office, in the way from which
to his dwelling-house, immediately afterwards,
he was met by a gentleman of the Society of
Friends; with whom he was in habits of business
and acquaintance, and who accosted him with his
customary phrase, " Well, Robert, what news ?"
" The news is," said Mr. Morris, " that I am in
immediate want of a sum of hard money," men
tioning the amount, " and that you are the man
who must procure it for me. Your security is
to be my note of hand and my honor." After
a short hesitation, the gentleman replied, " Rob
ert, thou shalt have it ;" and by the punctual
performance of his promise, enabled Congress
to comply with the requisition of the general.
The situation of General Greene in South
Carolina was equally critical ; his distresses ren
dering it scarcely practicable to keep his troops
together, when a gentleman, Mr. Hall, of that
State, by stepping forward and advancing the
necessary sums, enabled him to stem the danger.
On the return of General Greene to Philadel
phia, after the war had terminated, he repaired
to the office of finance to settle his accounts,
when the secret was divulged, that Mr. Hall
had acted under the direction of Mr. Morris.
The general was hurt at such an apparent want
of confidence in him ; but, on reconsidering the
subject, he admitted the wisdom of the caution
which had been used : " I give you my opinion,"
said he, " that you never did a wiser thing ; for,
on other occasions, I was sufficiently distressed
to have warranted my drawing on you, had I
known that I might have done so, and I should
have availed myself of the privilege." Mr.
Morris rejoined, that even as matters had been
conducted, the southern expedition had gone
nearer than the operations in any other quarter
to the causing of an arrest of his commercial
business. By a resolution of Congress, the office of
financier was established in 1781, and Mr. Mor
ris was unanimously elected as the superintend
ent. Previous to his election he had formed a
mercantile connection with I. & R. Hazlehurst.

190

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

and his fear lest the duties of an official situa
tion of such importance should interfere with
his engagements in business, prevented his ac
ceptance of office, until Congress had specifically-
resolved, that his fulfilment of his commercial
obligations was not incompatible with the per
formance of the public services required of
him. To trace him through all the acts of his finan
cial administration, would be to make this bio
graphy a history of the last two years of the
Revolutionary War. When the exhausted credit
of the government threatened the most alarming
consequences ; when the soldiers were utterly
destitute of the necessary supplies of food and
clothing ; when the military chest had been
drained of its last dollar, and even the intrepid
confidence of Washington was shaken, upon his
own credit, and from his own private resources,
did Mr. Morris furnish those pecuniary means,
but for which the physical energies of the coun
try, exerted to their utmost, would have been
scarcely competent to secure that prompt and
glorious issue which ensued.
One of the first acts of his financial govern
ment was the proposition to Congress of his
plan for the establishment of the Bank of North
America, which was chartered forthwith, and
opened on the 7th of January, 1782. At this
time " the States were half a million of dollars
in debt on that year's taxes, which had been
raised by anticipation, on that system of credit
which Mr. Morris had created;" and, but for
this establishment his plans of finance must have
been entirely frustrated. On his retirement from
office, it was affirmed by two of the Massachu
setts delegates, "that it cost Congress at the
rate of eighteen millions per annum, hard dol
lars, to carry on the war, till he was chosen
financier, and then it cost them but above five
millions." By the representations of a committee of
Congress, Mr. Morris was induced to abandon
his intention of quitting office in 1783, and he
accordingly continued to superintend the de
partment of finance to the 30th of September,
1784, when, in a letter to the commissioners of
the treasury board, he resigned his office, and
immediately issued an advertisement, pledging

himself to the payment of all his outstanding
debts, as they should arrive at maturity.
His next public service was performed as a
member of the convention which framed the
federal constitution in 1787.
Fatigued with political cares, which, from the
time of his election to a seat in the senate of
the first Congress under the federal constitution,
had so completely engrossed his mind, he was
now anxious to retire to the relaxation of pri
vate life. That he was not avaricious after in
fluence, may be sufficiently established from the
fact of his refusal to accept the situation of
secretary of the treasury, which General Wash
ington wished him to fill.
That his long continuance in the public ser
vice, and his unremitted attention to the busi
ness of his country, had caused some confusion
in his private affairs, he assigned as a reason for
declining to comply with the solicitations of the
city of Philadelphia, which had sent a delega
tion to request he would become its representa
tive in Congress. It is true, indeed, that he
was subsequently induced to resume his situa
tion as a delegate from Pennsylvania, and that
he continued to fill this distinguished character
for several years after his retirement from the
financial department; but, it is equally true,
that this compliance with the public wish was
rather the effect of a powerful sense of political
duty, than of inclination. His long inattention
to his private affairs was productive of great
embarrassments of mind and circumstances, the
results of which cast a shade over those declin
ing years which unembarrassed repose and hon
orable affluence ought to have soothed and
cherished. After a life of inestimable utility, Mr. Morris
died in Philadelphia, on the 8th of May, 1806,
in the seventy-third year of his age. That his
arrangements for the raising of pecuniary sup
plies, and the support of the credit of his coun
try, in her greatest need, essentially conduced
to the glorious termination of the contest for
liberty, is established by the evidence of the il
lustrious Washington himself; and it may as
truly be said of him, as it was of the Roman
Curtius, that he sacrificed himself for the safety
of the commonwealth.

Chap. XX.]

DOCUMENTS.

191

[C]
BRIGADIER-GENERAL ETHAN ALLEN.
This distinguished officer was born in Salis
bury, Connecticut, from whence, while he was
yet young, his parents emigrated to Vermont.
By this circumstance, he was deprived of the
advantages of an early education. But, al
though he never felt its genial influence, nature
had endowed him with strong powers of mind ;
and when called to take the field, he showed
himself an able leader, and an intrepid soldier.
At the commencement of the disturbances in
Vermont, about the year 1770, he took a most
active part in favor of the Green Mountain
Boys, as the settlers were then called, in oppo
sition to the government of New York. Bold,
enterprising, and ambitious, he undertook to
direct the proceedings of the inhabitants, and
wrote several pamphlets to display the supposed
injustice and oppressive designs of the New
York proceedings. The uncultivated roughness
of his own temper and manners, seems to have
assisted him in giving a just description of the
views and proceedings of speculating land-job
bers. His writings produced effects so hostile
to the views of the State of New York, that an
act of outlawry was passed against him, and five
hundred guineas were offered for his apprehen
sion. But his party was too numerous and
faithful to permit him to be disturbed by any
apprehensions for his safety. In all the struggles
of the day he was successful, and proved a
valuable friend to those whose cause he had
espoused. The news of the battle of Lexington deter
mined Allen to engage on the side of his coun
try, and inspired him with the desire of demon
strating his attachment to liberty by some bold
exploit. While in this state of mind, a plan for
taking Ticonderoga and Crown Point by sur
prise, which was formed by several gentlemen
in Connecticut, was communicated to him, and
he readily engaged in the project. Receiving
directions from the General Assembly of Con
necticut to raise the Green Mountain Boys, and
conduct the enterprise, he collected two hun
dred and thirty of the hardy settlers, and pro
ceeded to Castleton. Here he was unexpected

ly joined by Colonel Arnold, who had been
commissioned by the Massachusetts committee
to raise four hundred men, and effect the same
object which was now about to be accomplished.
They reached the lake opposite Ticonderoga on
the evening of. the 9th of May, 1775. With
the utmost difficulty boats were procured, and
eighty-three men were landed near the garrison.
Arnold now wished to assume the command, to
lead on the men, and swore that he would go in
himself the first. Allen swore that he should
not. The dispute beginning to run high, some
of the gentlemen present interposed, and it was
agreed that both should go in together, Allen
on the right hand, and Arnold on the left. The
following is Allen's own account of the affair :
" The first systematical and bloody attempt
at Lexington to enslave America, thoroughly
electrified my mind, and fully determined me to
take a part with my country. And while I was
wishing for an opportunity to signalize myself
in its behalf, directions were privately sent to
me from the then colony, now State of Con
necticut, to raise the Green Mountain Boys, and
if possible, with them to surprise and take the
fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheer
fully undertook ; and after first guarding all the
several passes that lead thither to cut off all
intelligence between the garrison and the coun
try, made a forced march from Bennington, and
arrived at the lake opposite Ticonderoga on
the evening of the 9th of May, 1775, with two
hundred and thirty valiant Green Mountain
Boys ; and it was with the utmost difficulty that
I procured boats to cross the lake. However, I
landed eighty-three men near the garrison, and
sent the boats back for the rear-guard, com
manded by Colonel Seth Warner ; but the day
began to dawn, and I found myself necessitated
to attack the fort, before the rear could cross
the lake ; and as it was viewed hazardous, I
harangued the officers and soldiers in the man
ner following : ' Friends and fellow-soldiers : you
have, for' a number of years past, been a scourge
and terror to arbitrary powers. Your valor has
been famed abroad, and acknowledged, as ap
pears by the advice and orders to me from the
General Assembly of Connecticut, to surprise and
take the garrison now before us. I now propose

192

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

to advance before you, and in person conduct
you through the wicket gate ; for we must this
morning either quit our pretensions to valor, or
possess ourselves of this fortress in a few min
utes ; and inasmuch as it is a desperate attempt,
which none but the bravest of men dare under
take, I do not urge it on any contrary to his
will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise
your firelock.'
" The men being at this time drawn up in three
ranks, each poised his firelock. I ordered them
to face to the right ; and at the head of the
centre file I marched them immediately to the
wicket gate aforesaid, where I found a sentry
posted, who instantly snapped Ms fusee at me.
I ran immediately towards him, and he retreat
ed through the covered way into the parade
within the garrison, gave a halloo, and ran un
der a bomb-proof. My party, who followed me
into the fort, I formed on the parade in such a
manner as to face the barracks, which faced
each other. The garrison being asleep, except
the sentries, we gave three huzzas, which great
ly surprised them. One of the sentries made a
pass at one of my officers with a charged bay
onet, and slightly wounded him. My first
thought was to kill him with my sword, but in
an instant I altered the design and fury of the
blow to a slight cut on the side of the head ;
upon which he dropped his gun and asked quar
ters, which I readily granted him, and demand
ed the place where the commanding officer kept.
He showed me a pair of stairs in the front of
the garrison, which led up to a second story in
said barracks, to which I immediately repaired,
and ordered the commander, Captain Delaplace,
to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the
whole garrison : at which time the captain came
immediately to the door, with his breeches in his
hand, when I ordered him to deliver to me the
fort instantly. He asked me by what authority
I demanded it. I answered him, ' In the name
of the great Jehovah and the Continental Con
gress.' The authority of Congress being very
little known at that time, he began to speak
again, but I interrupted him, and with my drawn
sword near his head, again demanded an imme
diate surrender of the garrison ; with which he
then complied, and ordered his men to be forth

with paraded without arms, as he had given up
the garrison. In the mean time, some of my
officers had given orders, and in consequence
thereof sundry of the barrack doors were beat
down, and about one-third of the garrison im
prisoned, which consisted of said commander, a
Lieutenant Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a
gunner, two sergeants, and forty-four rank and
file ; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one
thirteen-inch mortar, and a number of swivels.
This surprise was carried into execution in the
gray of the morning of the 10th of May, 1775.
The sun seemed to rise that morning with a
superior lustre ; and Ticonderoga and its de
pendencies smiled on its conquerors, who tossed
about the flowing bowl, and wished success to
Congress, and the liberty and freedom of Amer
ica. Happy it was for me, at that time, that
the future pages of the book of fate, which
afterwards unfolded a miserable scene of two
years and eight months imprisonment, were hid
from my view."
This brilliant exploit secured to Allen a high
reputation for intrepid valor throughout the
country. In the fall of 1775, he was sent twice
into Canada to observe the dispositions of the
people, and attach them if possible to the Ameri
can cause. During one of these excursions, he
made a rash and romantic attempt upon Mon
treal. He had been sent by General Montgom
ery with a guard of eighty men on a tour into
the villages in the neighborhood. On his re
turn, he was met by a Major Brown, who had
been on the same business. It was agreed be
tween them to make a descent upon the island
of Montreal. Allen was to cross the river, and
land with his party a little north of the city ;
while Brown was to pass over a little to the
south, with near two hundred men. Allen
crossed the river in the night, as had been pro
posed, but by some means Brown and his party
failed. Instead of returning, Allen, with great
rashness, concluded to maintain his ground.
General Carlton soon received intelligence of
Allen's situation and the smallness of his num
bers, and marched out against him with about
forty regulars and a considerable number of
English, Canadians, and Indians, amounting in
the whole to some hundreds. Allen attempted

Chap. XX.]

DOCUMENTS.

193

to defend himself, but it was to no purpose.
Being deserted by several of his men, and hav
ing fifteen killed, he, with thirty-eight of his
men, were taken prisoners.
He was now kept for some time in irons, and
was treated with the most rigorous and un
sparing cruelty. From his narrative it appears
that the irons placed on him were uncommonly
heavy, and so fastened that he could not lie
down, otherwise than on his back. A chest
was his seat by day, and his bed by night.
Soon after his capture, still loaded with irons,
he was sent to England, being assured that the
halter would be the reward of his rebellion when
he arrived there. Finding that threats and
menaces had no effect upon him, high command
and a large tract of the conquered country was
afterwards offered him, on condition he would
join the British. To the last he replied, " that
he viewed their offer of conquered United States
land to be similar to that which the devil of
fered to Jesus Christ : to give him all the king
doms of the world, if he would fall down and
worship him, when, at the same time, the devil
had not one foot of land upon earth."
After his arrival in England, about the middle
of December, he was lodged for a short time in
Pendennis Castle, near Falmouth. On the 8th
of January, 1776, he was put on board a frigate,
and by a circuitous route again carried to Hali
fax. Here he remained closely confined in the
jail from June to October, when he was removed
to New York. During the passage to this
place, Captain Burke, a daring prisoner, pro

posed to kill the British captain, and seize the
frigate ; but Allen refused to engage in the plot,
and was probably the means of saving the life
of Captain Smith, who had treated him with
kindness. He was kept at New York about a
year and a half, sometimes imprisoned, and
sometimes permitted to be on parole. While
here he had an opportunity to observe the in
human manner in which the American prisoners
were treated. In one of the churches in which
they were crowded, he saw seven lying dead at
one time, and others biting pieces of chips from
hunger. He calculated that of the prisoners
taken on Long Island and at Fort Washington,
near two thousand perished by hunger and cold,
or in consequence of diseases occasioned by the
impurity of their prisons.
Colonel Allen was exchanged for Colonel
Campbell, May 6th, 1778, and after having re
paired to head-quarters, and offered his services
to General Washington, in case his health should
be restored, he returned to Vermont. His ar
rival, on the evening of the last day of May,
gave his friends great joy, and it was announced
by the discharge of cannon. As an expression
of confidence in his patriotism and military tal
ents, he was very soon appointed to the com
mand of the State militia. His intrepidity,
however, was never again brought to the test,
though his patriotism was tried by an unsuc
cessful attempt of the British to bribe him to
attempt a union of Vermont with Canada. He
died suddenly on his estate, February 13th,
1789.

CHAPTER XXI.
1781.
THE CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.
Gates at Charlotte. — Collects his forces. — Retreats to Salishury. — Thence proceeds to Hillsborough. — Is reinforced.
— Morgan sent to harass the enemy.. — Gates. — Greene appointed to command the southern army. — Washing
ton's opinion of Greene. — He arrives in camp. — Stratagem of Colonel Washington. — Greene's force. — His diffi
culties. — Morgan detached to the south of Catawba. — His success at Ninety-Six. — Sumter captures Major Wemyss,
and defeats Tarleton. — General Marion. — His successes. — Cornwallis orders Leslie to the South. — Orders Tarleton
to pursue Morgan. — Battle of the Cowpens. — Cornwallis reinforced by Leslie pursues Morgan. — Morgan's narrow
escape at the Catawba. — Greene joins Morgan. — Arrival of Lee's legion. — Cornwallis forces the passage of the
Catawba. — Davidson killed. — Cornwallis pursues Greene. — Force of Greene inferior. — He approaches the Dan,
and crosses it without loss. — This equivalent to a battle won. — Cornwallis falls hack to Hillsborough. — Corn
wallis decamps. — Greene advances. — Battle of Guilford Courthouse. — Greene defeated, and Cornwallis nearly
ruined in this battle, which for him is the beginning of the. end. — He retreats to Wilmington.

In our last notice of the movements
and operations of the contending armies
in the Southern States, we left Corn
wallis, after a dreary and disastrous re
treat, at Wynnsborough. The Ameri
cans, in the mean time, were not idle.
Defeated, but not subdued, they were
active in preparing to renew the strug
gle. After the defeat and dispersion of
his army at Camden, General Gates re
treated to Charlotte, eighty miles from
the field of battle. There he halted to
collect the straggling fugitives, and to
endeavor from the wreck of his discom
fited army to form a force with which
he might check or impede the ad
vancing foe. He was soon joined by
Generals Smallwood and Gist, and
about one hundred and fifty dispirited

officers and soldiers. Most of the
militia who escaped returned home,
and General Caswell was ordered to as
semble those of the neighboring coun
ties. Major Anderson, of the third
Maryland regiment, who had collected
a number of fugitives not far from the
field of battle, proceeded towards Char
lotte by easy marches, in order to give
stragglers time to join him. But as
Charlotte was utterly indefensible, and
as no barrier lay between it and the
victorious enemy, Gates retreated to
Salisbury, and sent Colonel Williams,
accompanied by another officer, on the
road leading to Camden to gain infor
mation of the movements of Cornwallis,
and to direct such stragglers as he met
to hasten to Salisbury. From Salisbury

Chap. XXL]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

195

Gates proceeded to Hillsborough, where
he intended to assemble an army with
which he might contend for the south
ern provinces.
It was from Hillsborough that he
wrote the letter to Washington, which
we have already quoted, desiring the
exertion of his influence to prevent his
being superseded in the command of the
southern army.
At Hillsborough every exertion was
made to collect and organize a military
force, and ere long Gates was again at
the head of one thousand four hundred
men. Even before the royal army en
tered North Carolina, that State had
called out the second division of its mi-
litia, under generals Davidson and Sum
ner, and they were joined by the volun
teer cavalry under Colonel Davie.*
When Cornwallis entered Charlotte,
Gates ordered General Smallwood to
take post at the fords of the Yadkin, in
order to dispute the passage of the river ;
and Morgan, who had joined the south
ern army with the rank of brigadier-
general, was employed with a light corps
to harass the enemy.
When Cornwallis retreated, Gates ad
vanced to Charlotte ; he stationed Gen
eral Smallwood further down the Ca
tawba, on the road to Camden, and or
dered Morgan to some distance in his
front. Such was the position of the
troops when Gates was superseded in
the command of the southern army.
On the 5th of October, Congress, with-
8 See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

1780.

out any previous indications of dissatis
faction, had passed a resolution requir
ing Washington to order a court
of inquiry into the conduct of
Major-general Gates, as commander of
the southern army, and to appoint an
other officer to that command till such
inquiry should be made. The order of
Congress to inquire into the conduct of
Gates was unsatisfactory, as we have
already seen, to Washington. It was
afterwards dispensed with, and Gates
restored to a command in the army.
Meanwhile Washington recommended
Major-general Greene to Congress as a
person qualified to command the south
ern army. Greene, by his activity, in
trepidity, and good conduct, had gained
the confidence of Washington long ago ;
he had desired him to have the com
mand when Gates was appointed, as we
have already seen, and he now again
recommended him as an officer in whose
ability, fortitude, and integrity he could
trust. On the 2d of December, Greene ar
rived at Charlotte, and informed Gates
of his commission. That was the first
official notice which Gates, the former
favorite of Congress, received of his re
moval from the command of the south
ern army. Next day Gates resigned
the command of the army with becom
ing dignity and patriotism; and Greene,
who was dissatisfied with the treatment
which he had received, behaved towards
him with the most polite attention.
In a few hours after Greene entered
on his command, he received the report

196

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

of one of Morgan's foraging parties, not
far from Camden. The party advanced
to the vicinity of the British posts at
Clermont, which was viewed by Colonel
William A. Washington, who saw that
it was too strong to be taken by small-
arms and cavalry, the only weapons and
force present ; he therefore had recourse
to stratagem. Having made an impos
ing show of part of his men, and having
placed the trunk of a pine-tree in such
a situation as, at a distance, to have the
appearance of a cannon, he summoned
the post to surrender, and it yielded
without firing a shot. The tory-colonel,
Rugely, and one hundred and twelve
men whom he had collected in the place,
were made prisoners. This inconsider
able event elated Greene's army, and
was considered by them as a good omen
of success under their new leader.
General Greene's situation was em
barrassing. His army was feeble, con
sisting, on the 8th of December, of two
thousand and twenty-nine infantry, of
whom one thousand four hundred and
eighty-two were in camp and five hun
dred and forty-seven in detachments ;
eight hundred and twenty-one were
continentals, and one thousand two hun
dred and eight were militia. Besides
these, there were ninety cavalry, sixty
artillerymen, and one hundred and
twenty-eight continentals on extra ser
vice, constituting in all a force of two
thousand three hundred and seven men.
In North Carolina there were many
loyalists, and hostilities were carried on
between them and their republican

neighbors with the most rancorous ani
mosity. The country was thinly in
habited, and abounded in woods and
swamps. The cultivated parts were
laid waste by hostile factions, and no
magazines for the army were provided.
The troops were almost naked, and
Greene obliged to procure subsistence
for them day by day.
He found that he could not long
remain at Charlotte, for the country
between that place and Camden, having
been traversed by the contending ar
mies, was quite exhausted. In order
therefore, to procure subsistence for his
troops, as well as to distract and harass
the enemy, Greene, though fully aware
of the danger of such a measure, felt
himself constrained to divide his little
army. General Morgan had been invested
with the command of the light troops
by Gates ; and Greene placed him at
the head of one of the divisions of his
army, consisting of nearly four hundred
infantry under Lieutenant-colonel How
ard, one hundred and seventy Virginia
riflemen under Major Triplett, and
eighty light dragoons under Lieutenant-
colonel William A. Washington. With
this small force, Morgan was sent to
the south of the Catawba to observe
the British at Wynnsborough and Cam
den, and to shift for himself ; but was
directed to risk as little as possible.
On the 25th of December he took a
position towards the western frontier
of South Carolina, not far from the con
fluence of the Pacolet and Broad River,

Chap. XXL]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

197

1780.

and about fifty miles northwest from
Wynnsborough. With the other di
vision of his army, Greene left Char
lotte on the 20th of the same month,
and on the 29th arrived at Hick's Cor
ner, on the east side of the Pedee, oppo
site the Cheraw Hills, about seventy
miles northeast from Wynnsborough,
where he remained some time. He
marched to that place in the hope of
finding more plentiful subsistence for
his troops ; but his difficulties in that
respect were not much diminished, for
the country was almost laid waste by
the cruel feuds of the hostile factions.
General Morgan did not long remain
inactive. On the 27th of December he
detached Colonel Washington
with his dragoons and two hun
dred militia, who next day marched
forty miles, surprised a body of loyal
ists at Ninety-Six, killed or wounded
one hundred and fifty of them, and
took forty prisoners, without sustaining
any loss. At that time Morgan was
joined by Major M'Dowell with two
hundred North Carolina, and by Colo
nel Pickens with seventy South Caro
lina, militia.
The British had to contend not only
with the force under Greene and Mor
gan, but were also obliged to watch
other adversaries not less active and
enterprising. Sumter had been de
feated by Tarleton on the 18th of Au
gust, and his followers dispersed ; but
that daring and indefatigable partisan
did not long remain quiet. He was
soon again at the head of a considerable
Voi. n.— 26

band, and had frequent skirmishes with
his adversaries. Always changing his
position about Enoree, Broad, and Tiger
rivers, he often assailed the British posts
in that quarter. On the 12th of No
vember he was attacked at Broad River
by Major Wemyss, but repulsed the
party and made the major prisoner.
On the 20th of the same month he
was attacked by Tarleton at Black
Stocks, near Tiger River : the encounter
was sharp and obstinate ; Tarleton was
repulsed with loss ; but Sumter was
wounded in the battle, and, being un
fitted for active service, his followers
dispersed. Sumter showed much hu
manity to his prisoners. Although
Wemyss had deliberately hanged Mr.
Cusack in the Cheraw district, and al
though he had in his pocket a list of
several houses burned by his orders,
yet he met with every indulgence. At
Black Stocks the wounded were kindly
treated. Other partisan chiefs arose, and
among them General Marion held a
distinguished place. He had command
ed a regiment in Charleston at the time
of the siege ; but having received a
wound* which fractured his leg, and
being incapable of discharging the ac
tive duties of his office, he withdrew
• Marion was a strict temperance man. Being at a
dinner party where the guests, determined on a hard
drinking bout, had locked the door to prevent his exit, he
jumped out of a second-story window, and broke his leg.
This was the wound above referred to. It occasioned
him to leave the city. He thus escaped surrendering
when Charleston fell, and his temperance preserved to
the country one of its bravest defenders.

198

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

from the town. On the advance of
Gates, having procured a band of fol
lowers, he penetrated to the Santee,
harassed the British detachments, and
discouraged the loyalists. After the
defeat of the Americans at Camden, he
rescued a party of continental prisoners
who were under a British guard. So
ill was he provided with arms, that he
was obliged to forge the saws of the
saw-mills into rude swords for his
horsemen ; and so scanty was his am
munition, that at times he engaged
when he had not three cartridges to
each of his party. He secured himself
from pursuit in the recesses of the for
est, and in deep swamps*
Cornwallis impatiently waited the
arrival of reinforcements. After the
victory at Camden, when he was flushed
with the sanguine hope not only of
overrunning North Carolina, but of
invading Virginia, General Leslie was
detached from New York to the south
ward with a considerable body of
troops, and, according to orders, land
ed in Virginia, expecting to meet the
southern army in that State. On find
ing himself unable to accomplish his
lofty schemes, and obliged to fall back
into South Carolina, Cornwallis ordered
Leslie to re-embark and sail for
Charleston. He arrived there
on the 13th of December, and on the

!! Marion, on account of his successful stratagems
and sudden surprises of the British, was called by them
the Swamp-Fox. His own countrymen styled him the
Bayard of the South. See Document [B] at the end of
this chapter.

19th began his march, with fifteen hun
dred men, to join Cornwallis. His
lordship resolved to begin offensive
operations immediately on the arrival
of his reinforcements ; but, in the mean
time, alarmed by the movements of
Morgan for the safety of the British
post at Ninety-Six, he detached Tarle
ton, with the light and legion infan
try, the fusileers or 7th regiment, the
first battalion of the 71st regiment,
three hundred and fifty cavalry, two
field-pieces, and an adequate number of
the royal artillery, in all about eleven
hundred men, with orders to strike a
blow at Morgan, and drive him out of
the province. As Tarleton's force was
known to be superior to that under
Morgan, no doubt whatever was enter
tained of the precipitate flight or total
discomfiture of the Americans.
Meanwhile Cornwallis left Wynns
borough, and proceeded towards the
northwest, between the Broad and Ca
tawba rivers. General Leslie, who had
halted at Camden, in order to conceal
as long as possible the road which the
British army was to take, was now or
dered to advance up the Catawba, and
join the main body on its march. By
this route Cornwallis hoped to intercept
Morgan if he should escape Tarleton, or
perhaps to get between General Greene
and Virginia, and compel him to fight
before the arrival of his expected rein
forcements. The British generals, en
cumbered with baggage and military
stores, marching through bad roads,
and a country intersected by rivulets

Chap. XXL]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

199

1781.

which were often swollen by the rains,
advanced but slowly. Tarleton, how
ever, with his light troops proceeded
with great celerity, and overtook Mor
gan probably sooner than was expected.
On the 14th of January, Morgan was
informed of the movements of the Brit
ish army, and got notice of the march
of Tarleton and of the force
under his command. Sensible
of his danger, he began to retreat, and
crossed the Pacolet, the passage of
which he was inclined to dispute ; but,
on being told that Tarleton had forded
the river six miles above him, he made
a precipitate retreat, and at ten at
night, on the 16th of January, the
British took possession of the ground
which the Americans had left a few
hours before.
Although his troops were much fa
tigued by several days' hard marching
through a difficult country, yet, deter
mined that Morgan should not escape,
Tarleton resumed the pursuit at three
next morning, leaving his baggage be
hind under a guard, with orders not
to move till break of day. Morgan,
though retreating, was not disinclined to
fight. By great exertions, he might have
crossed Broad River, or reached a hilly
tract of country before he could have
been overtaken. He was inferior to
Tarleton in the number of his troops,
but more so in their quality ; as a con
siderable part of his force consisted of
militia, and the British cavalry were
three times more numerous than the
American. But Morgan, who had great

confidence both in himself and in his
men, was apprehensive of being over
taken before he could pass Broad River,
and he chose rather to fight voluntarily
than to be forced to a battle. There
fore, having been joined by some mili
tia under Colonel Pickens, he halted at
a place called the Cowpens, about three
miles from the line of separation be
tween North and South Carolina. Be
fore daylight, on the morning of the
17th of January, he was informed of the
near approach of Tarleton, and instantly
prepared to receive him.
The ground on which Morgan halted
had no great advantages; but his dis
positions were judicious. On rising
ground, in an open wood, he drew up
his continental troops and Triplett's
corps, amounting together to nearly
five hundred men, under Lieutenant-
colonel Howard. Colonel Washington,
with his cavalry, was posted in their
rear, behind the eminence, ready to act
as occasion might require. At a small
distance, in front of his continentals,
was a line of militia under Colonel
Pickens and Major M'Dowell ; and one
hundred and fifty yards in front of
Pickens was stationed a battalion of
North Carolina and Georgia volunteers
under Major Cunningham, with orders
to give one discharge on the approach
ing enemy, and then to retreat and join
the militia. Pickens was directed, when
he could no longer keep his ground, to
fall back, with a retreating fire, and
form on the right of the continentals.
Scarcely were those dispositions made

100

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

when the British van appeared. Tarle
ton, who had been informed by two pris
oners of Morgan's position and strength,
instantly formed his troops. The light
and legion infantry, and the seventh
regiment, and a captain with fifty dra-
goous on each flank, constituted his first
line : the first battalion of the seventy-
first regiment and the rest of the cav
alry composed the reserve. Formerly
Tarleton had succeeded by sudden and
impetuous assaults ; and, entertaining
no doubt of speedy and complete vic
tory on the present occasion, he led on
his men to the attack with characteris
tic ardor, even before his troops were
well formed. The British rushed for
ward impetuously, shouting and firing
as they advanced. The American vol
unteers, after a single discharge, retreat
ed to the militia under Pickens. The
British advanced rapidly, and furiously
attacked the militia, who soon gave way,
and sought shelter in the rear of the
continentals. Tarleton eagerly pressed
on ; but the continentals, undismayed
by the retreat of the militia, received
him firmly, and an obstinate conflict
ensued. Tarleton ordered xip his re
serve ; and the continental line was
shaken by the violence of the onset.
Morgan ordered his men to retreat to
the summit of the eminence, and was
instantly obeyed. The British, whose
ranks were somewhat thinned, exhaust
ed by the previous march and by the
struggle in which they had been en
gaged, and believing the victory won,
pursued in some disorder ; but, on

reaching the top of the hill, Howard
ordered his men to wheel and face the
enemy : they instantly obeyed, and met
the pursuing foe with a well-directed
and deadly fire. This unexpected and
destructive volley threw the British
into some confusion, which Howard ob
serving, ordered his men to charge
them with the bayonet. Their obedi
ence was as prompt as before ; and the
British line was soon broken. About
the same moment, Washington routed
the cavalry on the British right, who
had pursued the flying militia, and
were cutting them down on the left
and even in the rear of the continentals.
Ordering his men not to fire a pistol,
Washington charged the British cav
alry sword in hand. The conflict was
sharp, but not of long duration. The
British were driven from the ground
with considerable loss, and closely pur
sued. Howard and Washington pressed
the advantage which they had gained :
many of the militia rallied, and joined
in the battle. In a few minutes after
the British had been pursuing the ene
my, without a doubt of victory, the for
tune of the day entirely changed : their
artillery-men were killed, their cannon
taken, and the greater part of the in
fantry compelled to lay down their
arms. Tarleton, with about forty horse,
made a furious charge on Washington's
cavalry ; but the battle was irrecovera
bly lost, and he was reluctantly obliged
to retreat. Upwards of two hundred
of his cavalry, who had not been en
gaged, fled through the woods with the

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Chap. XXL]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

201

utmost precipitation, bearing away with
them such of the officers as endeavored
to oppose their flight. The only part
of the infantry which escaped, was the
detachment left to guard the baggage,
which they destroyed when informed of
the defeat, and, mounting the wagons
and spare horses, hastily retreated to
the army. The cavalry arrived in camp
in two divisions; one in the evening,
with the tidings of their disastrous dis
comfiture, and the other, under Tarle
ton himself, appeared next morning.
In this battle the British had ten
commissioned officers and upwards of
one hundred privates killed. More
than five hundred were made prison
ers, nearly two hundred of whom, in
cluding twenty-nine commissioned offi
cers, were wounded. Two pieces of
artillery, two standards, eight hun
dred muskets, thirty-five baggage-wag
ons, and about one hundred horses, fell
into the hands of the Americans, whose
loss amounted only to twelve men killed
and sixty wounded. The British force
under Tarleton has been commonly es
timated at one thousand one hundred
men, and the American army at one
thousand, although Morgan, in his offi
cial report to Greene, written two days
after the battle, states it to have been
only eight hundred.*
• The action at the Cowpens was one of the medal
victories. Congress had separate gold medals struck in
honor of it, and presented to Morgan, Howard, and Col
onel William A. Washington. The name Cowpens, ac
cording to Irving, comes from the old designation of
Hannah's Cowpens, the place being part of a grazing
establishment belonging to a man named Hannah. The

Cornwallis was at Turkey Creek,
twenty-five miles from the Cowpens,
confident of the success of his detach
ment, or at least without the slightest
apprehension of its defeat. He was be
tween Greene and Morgan, and it was a
matter of much importance to prevent
their junction, and to overthrow the
one of them while he could receive no
support from the other. For that pur
pose he had marched up Broad River,
and instructed General Leslie to pro
ceed on the banks of the Catawba, in
order to keep the Americans in a state
of uncertainty concerning the route
which he intended to pursue ; but the
unexpected defeat of his detachment
was an occurrence equally mortifying
and perplexing, and nothing remained
but to endeavor to compensate the dis
aster by the rapidity of his movements
and the decision of his conduct.
He was as near the fords of the Ca
tawba as Morgan, and flattered himself
that, elated with victory and encum
bered with prisoners and baggage, that
officer might yet be overtaken before he
could pass those fords. Accordingly,
on the 18th of January, he formed a
junction with General Leslie, and on
the 19th began his remarkable pursuit
of Morgan. In order the more certain
ly to accomplish his end, at Ramsour's
Mills he destroyed the whole of his
superfluous baggage. He set the ex
ample by considerably diminishing the
quantity of his own, and was readily
worthy grazier coi .Id hardly have foreseen the immor
tality which was destined to attach to his cow-pens.

202

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

imitated by his officers, although some
of them suffered much less by the meas
ure. He retained no wagons, except
those loaded with hospital stores and
ammunition, and four empty ones for
the accommodation of the sick and
wounded. But notwithstanding all his
privations and exertions, he ultimately
missed his aim, for Morgan displayed as
much prudence and activity after his
victory as bravery in gaining it. Fully
aware of his danger, he left behind him,
under a flag of truce, such of the wound
ed as could not be moved, with surgeons
to attend them ; and scarcely giving his
men time to breathe, he sent off his
prisoners under an escort of militia, and
followed with his regular troops and
cavalry, bringing up the rear in person.
He crossed Broad River at the upper
fords, hastened to the Catawba, w-hich
he reached on the evening of the 28th,
and safely passed it with his prisoners
and troops next day — his rear having
gained the northern bank only about
two hours before the van of the British
army appeared on the opposite side.
Much rain had fallen on the moun
tains a short time before, and it rained
incessantly during the night. The river
rose, and in the morning was impass
able. Morgan made a hair-breadth
escape, for had the river risen a few
hours sooner, he would have been un
able to pass, and probably would have
been overtaken and overwhelmed by
his pursuers ; and had the flood in the
river been a little later, Cornwallis
might have forced a passage, and en

tirely discomfited the American divi
sion. But it was two days before the
inundation subsided, and in that inter
val Morgan sent off his prisoners to
wards Charlotteville, in Virginia, under
an escort of militia, and they were soon
beyond the reach of pursuit. The
Americans regarded the swelling of the
river with pious gratitude, as an inter
position of Heaven in their behalf, and
looked forward with increased confi
dence to the day of ultimate success.
Morgan called for the assistance of
the neighboring militia, and prepared
to dispute the passage of the river ; but
on the 31st of January, while he lay at
Sherwood's Ford, General Greene unex
pectedly appeared in camp, and took
on himself the command. Towards the
end of December, Greene, as already
mentioned, took a position at Hick's
Creek, on the east side of the Peedee,
and had in camp one thousand one hun
dred continental and State troops fit for
service. On the 12th of January he
was joined by Colonel Henry Lee's
partisan legion, which arrived from the
north, and consisted of one hundred
well-mounted horsemen and one hun
dred and twenty infantry. This rein
forcement was next day dispatched on
a secret expedition; and in order to
divert the attention of the enemy from
the movements of the legion, Major
Anderson, with a small detachment,
was sent down the Peedee. On the
night of the 24th, Lee surprised George
town, and killed some of the garrison,
but the greater part fled into the fort,

Chap. XXL]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

203

which Lee was not in a condition to
besiege. Although Cornwallis perceived that
he would meet with opposition, yet he
determined to force the passage. The
river was about five hundred yards
wide, three feet deep, and the stream
rapid. The light-infantry of the guards,
under Colonel Hall, accompanied by a
guide, first entered the ford : they were
followed by the grenadiers, who were
succeeded by the battalions. As soon
as Davidson perceived the direction of
the British column, he led his men to
the point where it was about to land.
But before he arrived, the light-infantry
had overcome all difficulties, and were
ascending the bank and forming. While
passing the river, in obedience to or
ders, they reserved their fire, and, on
gaining the bank, soon put the militia
to flight. Davidson was the last to
retreat, and on mounting his horse to
retire he received a mortal wound.*
The defeat of Davidson opened the
passage of the river. All the Amer
ican parties retreated, and on the same
day the res't of the British army crossed
at Beattie's Ford. Tarleton, with the
cavalry and the 23d regiment, was sent
in pursuit of the militia ; and being
informed on his march that the neigh
boring militia were assembling at Tar
rant's Tavern, about ten miles distant,
he hastened with the cavalry to that
place. About five hundred militia were
assembled, and seemed not unprepared
• See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

to receive him. He attacked them with
his usual impetuosity, and soon defeated
and dispersed them with considerable
slaughter. The passage of the river,
and the total discomfiture of the party
at Tarrant's Tavern, so much intimida
ted the inhabitants of the country, that
the royal army received no further
trouble from the militia till it had
passed the Yadkin.
A grand military race now began
between the retreating Americans un
der Greene, and the pursuing British
under Cornwallis. Greene marched so
rapidly, that he passed the Yadkin at
the trading-ford on the night between
the 2d and 3d of February, partly by
fording and partly by means of boats
and flats. So closely was he pursued,
that the British van was often in sight
of the American rear ; and a sharp con
flict happened, not far from the ford,
between a body of American riflemen
and the advanced guard of the British
army, when the latter obtained posses
sion of a few wagons. Greene secured
all the boats on the south side ; and
here it again happened as at the Ca
tawba — the river suddenly rose by
reason of the preceding rains, and the
British were unable to pass. This sec
ond escape by the swelling of the wa
ters was interpreted by the Americans
as a visible interposition of Heaven in
their behalf, and inspired them with a
lofty enthusiasm in that cause which
seemed to be the peculiar care of Om
nipotence. Greene, released from the immediate

204

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

pressure of his pursuers, continued his
march northward, and on the 7th of
February joined his division under
Huger and Williams near Guilford
Courthouse. In order to cover his retreat, and
to check the pursuing enemy, Greene
formed a light corps out of Lee's legion,
Howard's infantry,' Washington's cav
alry, and some Virginia riflemen under
Major Campbell, amounting to seven
hundred men, the flower of the south
ern army. As General Morgan was
severely indisposed, the command of
these light troops was given to Colonel
Otho Holland Williams, formerly adju
tant-general. Having refreshed his troops, and
made the necessary arrangements, on
the morning of the 10th of February,
Greene left Guilford Courthouse on his
march towards the Dan, and was pur
sued by Cornwallis, who had been de
tained by the long circuit which he was
obliged to make in order to pass the
Yadkin. The retreat and pursuit were
equally rapid ; but the boldness and
activity of the American light troops
compelled the British to march com
pactly and with caution, for on one
occasion Colonel Lee charged the ad
vanced cavalry of the British army
suddenly and furiously, killed a num
ber, and made some prisoners. On this
occasion Cornwallis felt the loss of the
light troops who had been killed or
taken at the Cowpens. He was des
tined to regret their loss through the
rest of the campaign.

Greene's precautions and prepara
tions for passing the Dan were success
ful ; and, on the 14th of February, he
crossed that river at Boyd's and Irwin's
Ferries, with his army, baggage, and
stores. Although his light troops had
marched forty miles that day, yet the
last of them had scarcely reached the
northern bank when the advanced guard
of the British army appeared on the
other side of the river.
The escape of Greene into Virginia
without a battle, and without any loss,
except a few wagons at the Yadkin, was
a severe disappointment to Cornwallis.
He had entirely failed in his attempts
against Greene, but he was consoled by
the reflection that he had completely
driven him out of North Carolina, and
that now there was nothing to hinder
the loyal inhabitants from openly es
pousing the British cause and reinfor
cing the royal army.
Cornwallis now gave up the pursuit,
and repaired to Hillsborough, with the
view of calling out and organizing the
royalist forces. His adherents, though
here particularly strong, did not come
forward to the extent expected. The
larger portion, as elsewhere, regarded
the cause with that passive and inert
attachment which we have remarked to
be generally prevalent; and even the
more zealous, having suffered severely
by former premature displays, dreaded
lest the republican cause should regain
the ascendency. The view also of the
distress and exhaustion of the British
troops, after so long a march, was by no

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Chap. XXI.]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

205

means alluring. Yet seven companies
were formed, and detachments began to
come in from different quarters.
On the other hand, Greene, having
obtained a reinforcement of Virginia
militia, repassed the Dan, and with his
light troops endeavored to annoy the
British army and prevent recruiting.
Major Lee surprised a detachment of
royalists, who mistook him for Tarleton,
and cut them nearly to pieces. On ac
count of the exhausted state of the coun
try at Hillsborough, Cornwallis soon
withdrew to a position on the Allimance
Creek, between Haw and Deep rivers,
where he could be better supplied, and
support his friends, who were numerous
there. Greene, however, by an active
use of his cavalry and light troops,
severely harassed his opponent, and by
changing his own position every night,
eluded the attempt to bring him to an
engagement. At length General Greene, having re
ceived reinforcements, which raised his
army to above four thousand two hun
dred men, of whom about a third were
regulars, determined to offer battle.
This was what Cornwallis had eagerly
sought ; yet his own effective force be
ing reduced to somewhat under two
thousand, he felt now some hesitation,
and probably would have acted more
wisely in maintaining the defensive.
Even the enterprising Tarleton observes
that in his circumstances defeat would
have been total ruin, while any victory
he might expect to gain could yield
little fruit. All the habits and views
Vol. II.— 27

of Cornwallis, however, being directed
to an active campaign, he formed his
resolution, and on the 15th of
' 1781.
March proceeded to the attack.
Greene had drawn up his army very
judiciously, near Guilford Courthouse,
mostly on a range of hills covered with
trees and brushwood.
Greene made disposition of his troops
in the following order. The first line
was composed of North Carolina militia,
the right under General Eaton and the
left under General Butler, with two
pieces of artillery under Captain Single
ton. The right flank was supported by
Kirkwood's* Delawareans, Lynch's rifle
men, and the cavalry, all under Lieu
tenant-colonel Washington ; and the left,
in like manner, by Lieutenant-colonel
Campbell's riflemen and the infantry of
the legion, all under Lieutenant-colonel
Lee. The second line, which was form
ed three hundred yards in the rear of
the first, consisted of two brigades of
Virginia militia, the right under Gen
eral Lawson and the left under Gen
eral Stevens. The third, four hundred
yards in reserve, was formed upon the
brow of the hill near the courthouse.
The right of this line was composed
of Hawes's and Greene's Virginia regi
ments, under General Huger ; the left,
of the 1st and 2d Maryland regiments,
the former under Gunby, the latter
under Ford; — the whole commanded
by Colonel Williams. In the centre of
the last line was placed the remainder
of the artillery.
c See Document [D] at the end of this chapter.

206

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book D7.

Captain Singleton commenced his fire,
which was returned by the enemy, who
had formed their line of battle — the
right wing under General Leslie, and
the left under Lieutenant-colonel Web
ster, with the artillery in the centre,
under Lieutenant McLeod. The first
battalion of the guards, under Lieuten
ant-colonel Norton, served as a support
for the right ; and the second, with one
company of grenadiers, under General
O'Hara, for the left wing. Tarleton's
dragoons were held in reserve. The
British commander, having made all
his dispositions, advanced, fired one
round, and charged bayonets. Our mi
litia, having given a few shots while the
enemy was at a distance, were seized
by a panic when they saw him coming
down upon them. Many of them threw
away their muskets, and the entreaties
of Butler, Eaton, and Davie, with the
threats of Lee, were of no avail. Al
most the entire body fled. The artil
lery now retired to the left of the Mary-
landers. At this crisis the enemy con
sidered victory as already within his
grasp, and continued to push on, when
he was attacked on his right and left
by Lee and Washington. Cornwallis
perceiving this, threw one regiment out
to engage Lee, and one regiment, to
gether with his light infantry and ya
gers, to resist Washington, filling up
the breach thus created by advancing
the grenadiers with two battalions of
the guards, which had formed the sup
ports to the flanks. Lee and Washing
ton fell back in good order, delivering

their fire until they came up with the
second line, which gave battle in good
earnest. The right flank was supported
by Washington, who ordered Lynch's
riflemen to fall upon the left of Webster,
who had to be supported by O'Hara.
Here Webster ordered the 33d regi
ment to attack Lynch, and was thereby
in a measure relieved. O'Hara charged
the Virginia right wing, which was
obliged to yield ground.
Lee, on the left, nobly did his duty,
and firmly held his position. When the
militia on the right gave way, those on
the left fell back, and were not rallied
until they came up on the left of the
third line. Campbell's riflemen and
Lee's legion stood perfectly firm, and
continued the contest against one regi
ment, one battalion, and a body of in
fantry and riflemen. The American re
serve, with the artillery, posted in a
most favorable position, was fresh and
ready for the word of command. Web
ster, having overcome the Americans of
the second line in his front, advanced
upon the third, and was received by
Gunby's Maryland regiment with a most
galling fire, which made his troops fal
ter. Gunby advanced, charging bayo
nets, when the enemy was completely
routed. Leslie, after the left of the Virginia
militia gave way, advanced to the sup
port of O'Hara, who had forced the
American right wing; and the com
bined commands of these generals
charged the 2d Maryland regiment of
the third line. This regiment, panic-

Chap. XXL]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

207

stricken, fled. Gunby, coming up at
the time, held the enemy in check, and
a deadly conflict ensued. Gunby having
his horse shot under him, Lieutenant-
colonel Howard assumed the command.
Washington, seeing how hot was the
battle at this point, pushed forward and
charged the enemy; and Howard ad
vancing with his bayonets levelled, the
British were completely routed.
The pursuit was continued for some
distance, when Cornwallis came up and
determined to gain the victory at any
cost. He opened the fire of his artil
lery alike on friend and foe, causing an
indiscriminate slaughter of British and
Americans. The British were rallied at all points ;
and Greene, considering it better to

preserve the advantages he had gained,
withdrew his forces. This was done in
good order, and Cornwallis continued
the pursuit but a short distance. The
loss of the Americans was about four
hundred in killed and wounded; that
of the British, about eight hundred.
The enemy retained the field, but his
victory was both empty and disastrous.
Notwithstanding Cornwallis claimed
a victory, he resolved to fall back on
Wilmington, near the mouth of Cape
Fear River, where he could recruit his
troops and obtain supplies and rein
forcements by sea.
Greene retreated about fifteen miles,
taking post behind a small stream called
Troublesome Creek, where he expected
and awaited an attack.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XXI.

[A.]
GENERAL WILLIAM RICHARDSON DAVIE.
Colonel Datie was born in the village of
Egremont, in England, on the 20th June, 1759.
His father, visiting South Carolina soon after
the peace of 1763, brought with him his son;
and returning to England, confided him to the
Rev. William Richardson, his maternal uncle,
who, becoming much attached to his nephew,
not only took charge of his education, but
adopted him as his son and heir. At the proper
age, William was sent to an academy in North
Carolina, from whence he was, after a few years,
removed to the college of Nassau Hall, in
Princeton, New Jersey, then becoming the re
sort of most of the southern youth, under the
auspices of the learned and respected Dr.
Witherspoon. Here he finished his education,
graduating in the autumn of 1776, a year mem
orable in our military as well as civil annals.
Returning home, young Davie found himself
shut out for a time from the army, as the com
missions for the troops just levied had been
issued. He went to Salisbury, where he com
menced the study of law. The war continuing,
contrary to the expectations which generally
prevailed when it began, Davie could no longer
resist the wish to plant himself among the de
fenders of his country. Inducing a worthy and
popular friend, rather too old for military ser
vice, to raise a troop of dragoons as the readiest
mode of accomplishing his object, Davie obtain
ed a lieutenancy in this troop. Without delay
the captain joined the southern army, and soon
afterwards returned home on a furlough. The
command of the troop devolving on Lieutenant
Davie, it was, at his request, annexed to the

legion of Count Pulaski, where Captain Davie
continued, until promoted by Major-general
Lincoln to the station of brigade major of cav
alry. In this office Davie served until the affair
at Stono, devoting his leisure to the acquirement
of professional knowledge, and rising fast in the
esteem of the general and army. When Lin
coln attempted to dislodge Lieutenant-colonel
Maitland from his intrenched camp on the Sto
no, Davie received a severe wound, and was re
moved from camp to the hospital in Charleston,
where he was confined five months.
Soon after his recovery he was empowered by
the government of North Carolina to raise a
small legionary corps, consisting of one troop
of dragoons and two companies of mounted in
fantry, at the head of which he was placed with
the rank of major.
Quickly succeeding in completing his corps,
in whose equipment he expended the last re
maining shilling of an estate bequeathed to him
by his uncle, he took the field, and was sedu
lously engaged in protecting the country be
tween Charlotte and Camden from the ene
my's predatory excursions. On the fatal 16th
of August he was hastening with his corps to
join the army, when he met our dispersed and
flying troops. He nevertheless continued to
advance towards the conqueror ; and by his pru
dence, zeal, and vigilance, saved a few of our
wagons, and many of our stragglers. Acquaint
ed with the movement of Sumter, and justly
apprehending that he would be destroyed unless
speedily advised of the defeat of Gates, he dis
patched immediately a courier to that officer,
communicating what had happened, thus per
forming in the midst of distress and confusion
the part of an experienced soldier.

Chap. XXL]

DOCUMENTS.

209

So much was his conduct respected by the
government of North Carolina, that he was in
the course of September promoted to the rank
of colonel commandant of the cavalry of the
State. At the two gloomiest epochs of the southern
war, soon after the fall of Charleston and the
overthrow of Gates, it was the good fortune of
Colonel Davie to be the first to shed a gleam
through the surrounding darkness, and give
hope to the country by the brilliancy of his ex
ploits. In one instance, without loss or injury
on his part, he entirely destroyed an escort of
provisions, taking forty prisoners, with their
horses and arms. In the other, under the im
mediate eye of a large British force, which was
actually beating to arms to attack him, herout-
ed a party stronger than his own, killing and
wounding sixty of the enemy, and carrying off
with him ninety-six horses, and one hundred and
twenty stand of arms.
When Lord Cornwallis entered Charlotte, a
small village in North Carolina, Colonel Davie,
at the head of his detachment, threw himself in
his front, determined to give him a specimen of
the firmness and gallantry with which the inhab
itants of the place were prepared to dispute with
his lordship their native soil.
Colonel Tarleton's legion formed the British
van, led by Major Hanger, the commander him
self being confined by sickness. When that
celebrated corps had advanced near to the cen
tre of the village, where the Americans were
posted, Davie poured into it so destructive a
fire, that it immediately wheeled and retired in
disorder. Being rallied and again led on to the
charge, it received on the spot another fire with
similar effect.
Lord Cornwallis, witnessing the confusion
thus produced among his choicest troops, rode
up in person, and in a tone of dissatisfaction up
braided the legion with unsoldierly conduct,
reminding it of its former exploits and reputa
tion. Pressed on his flanks by the British infantry,
Colonel Davie had now fallen back to a new and
well-selected position. To dislodge him from
this, the legion cavalry advanced on him a third
time, in rapid charge, in full view of their com

mander-in-chief, but in vain. Another fire from
the American marksmen killed several of their
officers, wounded Major Hanger, and repulsed
them again with increased confusion.
The main body of the British being now with
in musket-shot, the American leader abandoned
the contest.
It was by strokes like these that he seriously
crippled and intimidated the enemy, acquired an
elevated standing in the estimation of his friends,
and served very essentially the interests of free
dom. In this station he was found by General
Greene, on assuming the command of the south
ern army ; whose attention had been occupied,
from his entrance into North Carolina, in reme
dying the disorder in the quartermaster and
commissary departments. To the first, Carring-
ton had been called ; and Davie was now in
duced to take upon himself the last, much as he
preferred the station he then possessed. At the
head of this department, Colonel Davie remain
ed throughout the trying campaign which fol
lowed ; contributing greatly, by his talents, his
zeal, his local knowledge, and his influence, to
the maintenance of the difficult and successful
operations which followed. While before Nine
ty-Six, Greene, foreseeing the difficulties again
to be encountered, in consequence of the acces
sion of force to the enemy by the arrival of three
regiments of infantry from Ireland, determined
to send a confidential officer to the legislature
of North Carolina, then in session, to represent
to them his relative condition, and to urge their
adoption of effectual measures, without delay,
for the collection of magazines of provisions and
the reinforcement of the army. Colonel Davie
was selected by Greene for this important mis
sion, and immediately repaired to the seat of
government, where he ably and faithfully exert
ed himself to give effect to the views of his
general. The effect of the capture of Cornwallis assur
ing the quick return of peace, Colonel Davie re
turned home, and resumed the practice of the
law in the town of Halifax, on the Roanoke,
North Carolina.
Colonel Davie was a member of the conven
tion which framed the Constitution of the Uni-

210

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ted States ; but as he was obliged to leave the
convention before its close, his name does not
appear among the signers of that instrument.
He afterwards ably advocated its adoption in
the convention of North Carolina. Through
his efforts the University of North Carolina
was established. In 1799 he was elected gov
ernor of North Carolina ; and the same year he
was appointed envoy to France, with Ellsworth
and Murray. In 1798 he was appointed a brig
adier-general in the provisional army raised in
expectation of the war with France. General
Davie died in 1820, at the age of sixty-four.
The war in the South was ennobled by great
and signal instances of individual and partisan
valor and enterprise. Scarcely do the most
high-drawn heroes of fiction surpass, in their
daring and extraordinary achievements, many
of the real ones of Pickens, Marion, Sumter,
and Davie, who figured in the Southern States
during the conflict of the Revolution.

[B.]
GENERAL FRANCIS MARION.
The parents of this distinguished officer, Ga-
briel and Louise Marion, were French refugees,
expelled from their country by the repeal of the
edict of Nantes, who arrived at Charleston in
1685. They were Huguenots of the sturdiest
kind. They settled at Winyah, near George
town, South Carolina, where Francis was born
in 1732. At the age of sixteen he entered on
board a vessel bound to the West Indies, intend
ing to become a sailor. On his outward pas
sage, the vessel was capsized in a gale of wind,
when the crew took to their boat without water
or provisions, it being impracticable to save any
of either. A dog jumped into the boat with the
crew, and upon his flesh, eaten raw, did the sur
vivors of these unfortunate men subsist for seven
or eight days ; in which period several died of
hunger. Among the few who escaped was young Ma
rion. After reaching land, Marion relinquished
his original plan of life, and engaged in the la
bors of agriculture. In this occupation he con
tinued until 1759, when he became a soldier,

and was appointed a lieutenant in a company
of volunteers, raised for an expedition against
the Cherokee Indians, commanded by Captain
William Moultrie, (afterwards General Moul
trie.) This expedition was conducted by Gov
ernor Lyttleton : it was followed in a year or
two by another invasion of the Cherokee coun
try by Colonel Grant, who afterwards served as
major-general under Sir William Howe.
In this last expedition Lieutenant Marion also
served, having been promoted to the rank of
captain. As soon as the war broke out between
the colonies and the mother country, Marion
was called to the command of a company in the
first corps raised by the State of South Carolina.
He was soon afterwards promoted to a majority,
and served in that rank under Colonel Moultrie,
in his intrepid defence of Fort Moultrie, against
the combined attack of Sir Henry Clinton and
Sir Henry Parker, on the 2d of June, 1776. He
was afterwards placed at the head of a regiment
as lieutenant-colonel commandant, in which car
pacity he served during the siege of Charleston ;
when, having fractured his leg by some accident,
he became incapable of military duty, and for
tunately for his country, escaped the captivity
to which the garrison was, in the sequel, forced
to submit.
Upon the fall of Charleston, many of the lead
ing men of the state of South Carolina sought
personal safety, with their adherents, in the ad
joining States. Circumstances however soon
changed, when these faithful and brave citizens
hastened back at the call of their country to
share in the perils and toils of war.
Among them were Francis Marion and Thom
as Sumter, both colonels in the South Carolina
line, and both promoted by Governor Rutledge
to the rank of brigadier-general in the militia of
the State. Enthusiastically wedded to the cause
of liberty, Marion deeply deplored the doleful
condition of his beloved country. The common
weal was his sole object ; nothing selfish, noth
ing mercenary, soiled his character. Fertile in
stratagem, he struck unperceived ; and retir
ing to those hidden retreats, selected by himself,
in the morasses of the Pedee and Black rivers, he
placed his corps not only out of the reach of his
foe, but often out of the discovery of his friends.

©EH? IFIEA.H(DKS lAin©i,

ux^??

'

From, t/ie onvt, zl future if Ci/yppel mine pa
Johnson., Bey Sr C° :'iil,'j .lien. ITT,

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irking Id tttx.-n'Knp'vji^'DlSSS by Johnson, Ity #¦<.¦' m the oltr.'ar efficc af fa: SutrvX. <x

Chap. XXL]

DOCUMENTS.

211

A rigid disciplinarian, he reduced to practice
the justice of his heart ; and during the difficult
course of warfare through which he passed, cal
umny itself never charged him with violating
the rights of person, property, or humanity.
Never avoiding danger, he never rashly sought
it ; and acting for all around him as he did for
himself, he risked the lives of his troops only
when it was necessary. Never elated with pros
perity, nor depressed by adversity, he preserved
an equanimity which won the admiration of his
friends, and exacted the respect of his enemies.
The country, from Camden to the sea-coast, be
tween the Pedee and Santee, was the theatre of
his exertions.
When Charleston fell into the enemy's hands,
Lieutenant-colonel Marion abandoned his State,
and took shelter in North Carolina. The mo
ment he recovered from the fracture of his leg,
he engaged in preparing the means of annoying
the enemy, then in the flood-tide of prosperity.
With sixteen men only he crossed the Santee,
and commenced that daring system of warfare
which so much annoyed the British army.
Colonel Peter Horry, in his Life of General
Marion, gives the following interesting inci
dent : " About this time we received a flag from
the enemy in Georgetown, South Carolina, the
object of which was to make some arrangements
about the exchange of prisoners. The flag, after
the usual ceremony of blindfolding, was con
ducted into Marion's encampment. Having
heard great talk about General Marion, his fan
cy had naturally enough sketched out for him
some stout figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara,
or Cornwallis himself, of martial aspect and
flaming regimentals. But what was his surprise,
when, led into Marion's presence, and the ban
dage taken from his eyes, he beheld, in our hero,
a swarthy, smoke-dried little man, with scarcely
enough of thread-bare homespun to cover his
nakedness ; and, instead of tall ranks of gay-
dressed soldiers, a handful of sun-burnt, yellow-
legged militia-men, — some roasting potatoes, and
some asleep, with their black firelocks and pow
der-horns lying by them on the logs. Having
recovered a little from his surprise, he presented
his letter to General Marion, who perused it,
and soon settled every thing to his satisfaction.

" The officer took up his hat to retire.
" ' Oh no !' said Marion, ' it is now about our
time Of dining, and I hope, sir, you will give us
the pleasure of your company to dinner.'
" At mention of the word dinner, the British
officer looked around him, but to his great mor
tification could see no sign of a pot, pan, Dutch-
oven, or any other cooking utensil, that could
raise the spirits of a hungry man.
" ' Well, Tom,' said the general, to one of his
men, ' come, give us our dinner.'
" The dinner to which he alluded, was no other
than a heap of sweet potatoes, that were very
snugly roasting under the embers, and which
Tom, with his pine-stick poker soon liberated
from their ashy confinement; pinching them
every now and then with his fingers, especially
the big ones, to see whether they were well
done or not. Then, having cleansed them of
the ashes, partly by blowing them with his
breath and partly by brushing them with the
sleeve of his old cotton shirt, he piled some of
the best on a large piece of bark, and placed
them between the British officer and Marion,
on the trunk of the fallen pine on which they sat.
" ' I fear, sir,' said the general, ' our dinner
will not prove so palatable to you as I could
wish ; but it is the best we have.'
" The officer, who was a well-bred man, took
up one of the potatoes and affected to eat, as if
he had found a great dainty ; but it was very
plain that he ate more from good manners than
good appetite.
" Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh.
Marion looked surprised. ' I beg pardon, gen
eral,' said he, ' but one cannot, you know, always
command one's conceits. I was thinking how
drolly some of my brother officers would look,
if our government were to give them such a bill
of fare as this.'
" ' I suppose,' replied Marion, ' it is not equal
to their style of dining.'
" ' No, indeed,' quoth the officer, ' and this, I
imagine, is one of your accidental lent dinners :
a sort of ban yan. In general, no doubt, you
live a great deal better.'
" ' Rather worse,' answered the general, ' for
often we don't get enough of this.'
" ' Heavens !' rejoined the officer ; ' but prob-

212

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ably what you lose in meal you make up in malt
— though stinted in provisions, you draw noble
pay.' " ' Not a cent, sir,' said Marion, ' not a cent^
" 'Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a
bad box. I don't see, general, how you can
stand it.'
" ' Why, sir,' replied Marion, with a smile of
self-approbation, 'these things depend on feel
ing.' " The Englishman said ' he did not believe it
would be an easy matter to reconcile his feel
ings to a soldier's life on General Marion's
terms — all fighting, no pay, and no provisions
but potatoes.''
" ' Why, sir,' answered the general, ' the heart
is all/ and when that is much interested, a man
can do any thing. Many a youth would think
it hard to indent himself a slave for fourteen
years. But let him be overhead and ears in
love, and with such a beauteous sweetheart as
Rachel, and he will think no more of fourteen
years' servitude, than young Jacob did. Well,
now this is exactly my case. I am in love ; and
my sweetheart is Liberty. Be that heavenly
nymph my champion, and these woods shall
have charms beyond London and Paris in sla^
very. To have no proud monarch driving over
me with his gilt coaches ; nor his host of excise
men and tax-gatherers, insulting and robbing ;
but to be my own master, my own prince and
sovereign ; gloriously preserving my national
dignity, and pursuing my true happiness ; plant
ing my vineyards, and eating their luscious fruit ;
sowing my fields, and reaping the golden grain ;
and seeing millions of brothers all around me,
equally free and happy as myself; — this, sir, is
what I long for.'
" The officer replied, that both as a man and
a Briton, he must certainly subscribe to this as
a happy state of things.
" ' Ilappyf quoth Marion, ' yes, happy in
deed ; and I would rather tight for such bless
ings for my country, Sind feed on roots, than
keep aloof though wallowing in all the luxuries
of Solomon. For now, sir, I walk the soil that
gave me birth, and exult in the thought that I
am not unworthy of it. I look upon these ven
erable trees around me, and feel that I do not

dishonor them. I think of my own sacred
rights, and rejoice that I have not basely de
serted them. And when I look forward to the
long, long ages of posterity, I glory in the
thought that I am fighting their battles. The
children of distant generations may never hear
my name ; but still it gladdens my heart to
think that I am now contending for their free
dom, with all its countless blessings.'
" I looked at Marion as he uttered these sen
timents, and fancied I felt as when I heard the
last words of the brave De Kalb. The English
man hung his honest head and looked, I thought,
as if he had seen the upbraiding ghosts of his
illustrious countrymen, Sidney and Hampden.
" On his return to Georgetown, he was asked
by Colonel Watson why he looked so serious.
" ' I have cause, sir,' said he, ' to look so seri
ous.' " ' What ! has General Marion refused to
treat S*
" ' No, sir.'
" ' Well, then, has old Washington defeated
Sir Henry Clinton, and broke up our army ?'
" ' No, sir, not that neither, but worse.''
" ' Ah ! what can be worse ?'
" ' Why, sir, I have seen an American general
and his officers, without pay, and almost without
clothes, living on roots, and drinking water ; and
all for Liberty ! What chance have we against
such men ?'
"It is said Colonel Watson was not much
obliged to him for his speech. But the young
officer was so struck with Marion's sentiments,
that he never rested until he threw up his com
mission and retired from the service."
General Marion was in stature of the smallest
size, thin as well as short. His visage was not
pleasing, and his manners not captivating. He
was reserved and silent, entering into conversa
tion only when necessary, and then with mod
esty and good sense.
He possessed a strong mind, improved by its
own reflections and observations, more than by
books or travel. His dress was like his address —
plain, regarding comfort and decency only. In
his meals he was abstemious, eating generally of
one dish, and drinking water mostly.
He was sedulous and constant in his attention

Chap. XXL]

DOCUMENTS.

213

to the duties of his station, to which every other
consideration yielded.
The procurement of subsistence for his men,
and the contrivance of annoyance to the enemy,
engrossed his entire mind. Beloved by his
friends, and respected by his enemies, he exhib
ited a luminous example of the beneficial effects
to be produced by an individual, who, with only
small means at his command, possesses a virtu
ous heart, a strong head, and a mind devoted to
the common good. After the war the general
married, but had no issue.
General Marion died in February, 1795, leav
ing behind him an indisputable title to the first
rank among the patriots and soldiers of the Rev
olution.

[O]
GENERAL DAVIDSON.
William Davidson, lieutenant-colonel com
mandant in the North Carolina line, and briga
dier-general in the militia of that State, was the
youngest son of George Davidson, who removed
with his family from Lancaster county, in Penn
sylvania, in the year 1750, to Rowan county, in
North Carolina.
He was born in the year 1746, and was edu
cated in a plain country manner, at an academy
in Charlotte, the county town of Mecklenburg,
which adjoins Rowan.
Like most of the enterprising youth of Amer
ica, Davidson repaired to the standard of his
country on the commencement of the revolu
tionary war, and was appointed a major in one
of the first regiments formed by the govern
ment of North Carolina.
In this character he marched with the North
Carolina line, under Brigadier-general Nash, to
the main army in New Jersey, where he served
under the commander-in-chief, until the North
Carolina line was detached, in November, 1779,
to reinforce the southern army, commanded by
Major-general Lincoln. Previous to this event,
Major Davidson was promoted to the command
of a regiment, with the rank of lieutenant-col
onel commandant.
As he passed through North Carolina, David-
Vol. II.— 28

son obtained permission to visit his family, from
which he had been absent nearly three years.
The delay produced by this visit saved him
from captivity, as he found Charleston so closely
invested when he arrived in its neighborhood,
as to prevent a reunion with his regiment.
Soon after the surrender of General Lincoln
and his army, the loyalists of North Carolina,
not doubting the complete success of the royal
forces, began to embody themselves for the pur
pose of contributing their active aid in the field
to the subsequent operations of the British gen
eral. They were numerous in the western parts
of the State, and especially in the highland settle
ment about Cross Creek. Lieutenant-colonel
Davidson put himself at the head of some of our
militia, called out to quell the expected insurrec
tion. He proceeded with vigor in the execution
of his trust ; and in an engagement with a party
of loyalists near Calson's mill, he was severely
wounded. After the battle of Camden he was
appointed brigadier-general, in the place of Col
onel Rutherford, who was made prisoner in that
disastrous action. He fell in the action of Cow
an's Ford, as related in the text of this work.
He was shot through the breast, and instantly
fell dead. Congress ordered a monument to be
erected to his memory. General Davidson was
one of the most active and efficient officers in
Greene's army. He was a man of pleasing ad
dress, and a true patriot.

[D.]
MAJOR KIRKWOOD.
Robert Kirkwood, a brave and meritorious
officer of the Delaware line, in the army of the
Revolution, was the pride of his native State, and
an ornament to the army that defended Ameri
can independence. We doubt not there are
many that held subordinate stations in the army
of the Revolution, who have not received that
meed of renown which they merited ; and there
can be no task more delightful to a grateful
posterity, nor more worthy of a patriot, than to
search out the rolls of honorable exploit, and to
promulgate it to our country. Whether we
consider the intrinsic gallantry of our revolu-

J

214

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

tionary heroes and statesmen, the sufferings they
endured, or the inestimable value of the bless
ings they obtained, no nation has prouder ex
amples to appeal to than the American people ;
no nation was ever called on by stronger obli
gations of gratitude, to honor their characters
and to consecrate their memories.
Robert Kirkwood was a native of the State
of Delaware. He was born in Newcastle coun
ty, near the village of Newark, celebrated for
an excellent academy, in which he received a
classical education. On the termination of his
literary studies, he engaged in farming, and
continued his agricultural pursuits until hostilities
took place between Great Britain and the colo
nies. In January, 1776, when it became obvi
ous that the war would be serious and bloody,
when unconditional submission to absolute pow
er or resistance were the alternatives, the in
telligent and patriotic mind of Kirkwood did
not hesitate as to the proper course. He enter
ed as lieutenant in the regiment of his native
State, commanded by Colonel Hazlet, and with
it joined the army under Washington at New
York. He was present throughout the cam
paign of Long Island and its neighborhood, and
partook in the disasters that ensued from the
misfortunes of our troops in that quarter. On
Washington's return to the Jerseys, when vic
tory was recalled to the American standard at
Trenton and Princeton, he participated in his
country's triumphs. In the engagement at
Princeton, Colonel Hazlet fell, deeply lamented ;
and the year's enlistment of his men being ex
pired, the regiment was reorganized early in
1777, under Colonel Hall, afterwards governor
of Delaware. Kirkwood now received the com
mission of captain, and served as such through
out the campaigns of 1777, '78 and '79, being
concerned in every battle of importance fought
during these years.
In 1780, General Gates took with him the
Delaware regiment and the Maryland line to
South Carolina, and they were actively employ
ed, under the command of Lieutenant-colonel
Vaughan and Major Patton, at the battle of
Camden, in which General Gates sustained a
serious reverse of fortune, and the American
army was totally defeated. In this disaster the

Delaware regiment was reduced from eight to
two companies, containing together about one
hundred and ninety-five men, the commanding
officers, with the greater part of the regiment, be
ing made prisoners. The two companies that
remained continued under the command of cap-
tians Kirkwood and Jacquet. Under these offi
cers the remains of the regiment served until the
close of the war ; and when the peculiar circum
stances of this corps are considered, the reason
will be discovered why an officer so meritorious
as Captain Kirkwood was not promoted, notwith
standing promotions as high as colonels were
made in the lines of several States. The State
of Delaware had but one regiment in the army ;
and as it was expected, from time to time,
that Colonel Vaughan or Major Patton would
be exchanged, Kirkwood could not be promoted
in the line of this State ; and in the lines of other
States promotions took place among themselves.
Besides, the regiment was so reduced in num
bers, as not to require an officer of a higher
rank than captain. In another line, or under
different circumstances, there can be no doubt
Kirkwood's gallantry, zeal, and uniform devo
tion to the cause would have been rewarded
with a higher rank, and a more conspicuous
standing in the eye of the nation.
In the southern campaign, the two companies
were attached as light infantry to Lee's cele
brated legion, and Lee placed great ^confidence
in them. In the battles of the Cowpens, in
which the corps of the marauding Tarleton was
cut to pieces; at Guilford, where Lord Corn
wallis's army received a shock from which it
never recovered ; at Camden, the Eutaws, and
other places, where victory became familiar to
the American soldier, Kirkwood exhibited his
usual traits of gallantry. At the Cowpens, he
was at the head of the first platoon of Colonel
Howard's memorable corps ; and when the col
onel was ordered to charge, Kirkwood advanced
ten paces in front of the corps, charged with his
espontoon, and called to his men to come on !
His example, said General Morgan, who used
to relate this anecdote, inspired the whole corps.
The southern army finally drove the enemy
from the Carolinas, taking successively nine of
their forts or fortified places. Captain Kirk-

Chap. XXL]

DOCUMENTS.

215

wood was always among the first in the enemy's
lines or works, and repeatedly received the
thanks and applause of generals Greene, Morgan,
and Smallwood. This distinguished enterprise
achieved a high reputation for himself, and ac
quired, by the co-operation of his brother offi
cers and soldiers, a peculiar renown for the gal
lant remnant of the Delaware regiment. At
the termination of the war, through the solicita
tion and influence of Washington, he was bre-
vetted a major, and he returned to his native
State, where he was cordially received and grate
fully welcomed by his numerous friends and
admiring fellow-citizens.
Major Kirkwood afterwards emigrated to the
State of Ohio, and settled on his lands, nearly
opposite to Wheeling, in the Indian country.
This was an adventurous attempt, and would
have probably intimidated any but the firm
mind of a man to whom danger was familiar ;
for he was almost the only white person on that
side of the river. He had left his family in Del
aware, and commenced the building of a log
cabin. It was not long, however, before his
military skill and intrepidity were wanting to
defend his life and property. The Indians ap
proached at night with design to attack him.
Being assisted by an officer and some soldiers,
who had crossed the river from Wheeling, he
ordered them to lie down, and instructed them
to rise up suddenly, when the Indians advanced,
fire all at once, and then rush on. The strata
gem was executed, and succeeded. The Indians
advanced boldly, not suspecting danger, and
several being killed, the rest fled.
But his country's danger once more summon
ed him, and for the last time, to the field ; and
the veteran soldier obeyed the call with alacri
ty. The whole West was in alarm from the
incursions of the savages ; and an army being
raised by the government of the United States
to repel them, and placed under the command
of General St. Clair, Kirkwood resumed his
sword as the oldest captain of the oldest regi
ment of the United States. In the decisive
defeat of St. Clair, by the Miami Indians, on the
4th November, 1 792, Kirkwood fell on the field
of battle, fighting with his usual heroism at the
head of his detachment. It was the thirty-third

time he had risked his life for his country, and
he died, as he had lived, brave, patriotic, and
full of honor.
Major Kirkwood's character and qualities were
always spoken of, by those who knew him, in
exalted language. General Lee, in his Memoirs,
mentions him in terms of approbation and dis
tinction. Colonel Jacob Slough, of Lancaster,
Pennsylvania, who was his intimate associate
and brother officer in St. Clair's army, in a let
ter to a representative in Congress from the
State of Maryland, written in May, 1824, states
some particulars relative to his death.
" I have received the letter you honored me
with," says Colonel Slough, " on the subject of
the services and virtues of my much-lamented
friend, Kirkwood, and will, with pleasure, nar
rate them. Having heard many of the officers
of the Revolution, who knew him when he be
longed to Smallwood's, afterwards Howard's,
regiment, speak of him in the most exalted
terms, I became much prepossessed in his favor,
long before I knew him ; and when I found him
a captain in General St. Clair's army, I took
pains to become acquainted with him. I soon
discovered that this desire was mutual, and
in a little time we became fast friends ; so much
so, that when not on duty we were generally
together. I passed many nights with him on
guard, and benefited greatly from his experi
ence as a man of honor and a soldier. Captain
Kirkwood had been sick for several days previ
ous to the 4th November, but was always ready
for duty. At the dawn of day that morning,
after the advanced guard was attacked and
driven in, I saw him cheering his men, and, by
his example, inspiring confidence in all who saw
him. When he received the wound, I cannot say.
I was at a distance from him, busily engaged in
attending to my own duty. About eight o'clock,
I received a severe wound in my right arm, just
above the elbow. As it bled very much, and
our surgeon was in the rear, I was advised to
go and have it dressed. On my way to rejoin
my company, I found my friend Kirkwood lying
against the root of a tree, shot through the ab
domen, and in great pain. After calling to the
surgeon, and commending him to his care, I saw
no more of him until the retreat was ordered.

216

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

I then ran to him, and proposed having him
carried off. He said, ' No : I am dying ; save
yourself if you can, and leave me to my fate ;
but as the last act of friendship you can confer
on me, blow my brains out. I see the Indians
coming, and God knows how they will treat
me!' Tou can better judge of my feelings
than I can describe them. I shook him by the
hand, and left him to his fate."

Thus fell, by the hands of the savages, the hero
who had survived the most eventful battles of
the Revolution, where he had faced danger and
death in every shape. But his example will, we
trust, long live for the imitation of posterity ;
and his name merits a portion of that fame
which it is the pleasure and pride of Americans
to award to those by whom the Revolution was
achieved.

CHAPTER XXII

1781.

1HE CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH CONCLUDED.
Washington's interest in the southern campaign. — His correspondence with Greene. — Cornwallis retreats. — Greene
advances. — Greene proceeds to South Carolina. — Greene's movements. — Battle of Hobkirk's Hill. — Rawdon's
victory unavailing. — Marion and Lee take Eort Motte, Georgetown, and Fort Granby. — Rawdon retreats to Monk's
Corner. — Greene turns to the interior posts. — Greene marches against Ninety-Six. — Siege of Ninety-Six. — Siege
raised in consequence of Rawdon's approaching with reinforcements. — Greene pursued by Rawdon. — Pursuit
abandoned. — Movements of Rawdon and Greene. — Battle of Eutaw Springs. — Its beneficial effects. — The British
army retreats to Monk's Corner. — Greene drives the British into Charleston, and the campaign closes. — Great
abilities displayed by Greene in the campaign. — Operations in Virginia. — Arnold's invasion. — Washington sends
Destouches against him, who is overtaken by Arbuthnot and compelled to return. — Operations of Phillips. — Corn
wallis arrives in Virginia. — Pursues Lafayette. — Retreats to Portsmouth. — Reasons of the British ministry for
carrying the war into Virginia. — Cornwallis at Yorktown.

"While the events recorded in the last
chapter were passing, Washington was
by no means a passive spectator. He
held a constant correspondence with
Greene, and sent him all the aid he
could. "Writing to him on the 9th of
January, 1781, he says: "It is impossi
ble for any one to sympathize more feel
ingly with you, in the sufferings and
distresses of the troops, than I do ; and
nothing could aggravate my unhappi-
ness so much as the want of ability to
remedy or alleviate the calamities which
they suffer, and in which we participate
but too largely. * * * The brilliant
action of General Sumter, and the strat
agem of Colonel Washington,* deserve
*> Referring to the affair at Rugely's Mills, where Colo
nel Washington frightened the militia colonel into a sur
render by means of a pine log mounted like a cannon.

1781.

great commendation. It gives me inex
pressible pleasure to find that such a
spirit of enterprise and intrepidity still
prevails." Writing to Greene again (on
the 21st of March), he says,
" You may be assured that your retreat
before Lord Cornwallis is highly ap
plauded by all ranks, and reflects much
honor on your military abilities." Such
words, from such a man, must have
inspirited Greene amidst his toils and
perils. Greene, writing to Washington three
days after the battle of Guilford Court
house, says: "In my former letters I
inclosed to your Excellency the proba
ble strength of the British army, since
which they have been constantly de
clining. Our force, as you will see by

218

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

the returns, was respectable; and the
probability of not being able to keep it
long in the field, and the difficulty of
subsisting men in this exhausted coun
try, together with the great advantages
which would result from the action, if
we were victorious, and the little injury
if we were otherwise, determined me to
bring on an action as soon as possible.
When both parties are agreed in a mat
ter, all obstacles are soon removed. I
thought the determination warranted
by the soundest principles of good poli
cy, and I hope events will prove it so,
though we were unfortunate. I regret
nothing so much as the loss of my artil
lery, though it was of little use to us,
nor can it be, in this great wilderness.
However, as the enemy have it, we must
also." " Lord Cornwallis," he writes in the
same letter, " will not give up this coun
try without being roundly beaten. I
wish our force was more competent to
the business. But I am in hopes, by
little and little, to reduce him in time.
His troops are good, well found, and
fight with great obstinacy. * * * *
"Virginia has given me every sup
port I could wish or expect, since Lord
Cornwallis has been in North Carolina ;
and nothing has contributed more to
this than the prejudice of the people in
favor of your Excellency, which has
been extended to me from the friend
ship you have been pleased to honor
me with."
The reader will not fail to observe
the soundness of Greene's judgment as

to the beneficial eflect of the battle of
Guilford Courthouse. It was truly
a disastrous victory for Cornwallis, and
a fortunate defeat for Greene, whose
subsequent operations we must now no
tice. When Greene took his position at the
iron-works on Troublesome Creek, after
the battle of Guilford Courthouse, he
expected that Cornwallis would follow
up his advantage, and attack him with
out delay. He therefore prepared again
to fight. His army, indeed, was much
diminished; but he had lost more in
numbers than in effective strength. The
militia, many of whom had returned
home, had shown themselves very in
efficient in the field. As soon as he
received certain information that in
stead of pursuing, Cornwallis was re
treating, he resolved to follow him, and
advanced accordingly.
Greene was now in his turn the pur
suer, and followed Cornwallis so closely,
that skirmishes occasionally happened
between his advanced parties and the
rear-guard of the British army ; but no
conflict of importance ensued. On the
morning of the 28th of March, he ar
rived at Bamsay's Mills, on Deep Rivei,
a strong post which the British had
evacuated a few hours before, crossing
the river by a bridge erected for the pur
pose. There Greene paused, and medi
tated on his future movements. His ar
my, like that of the British, for some time
past had suffered much from heavy rains,
deep roads, and scarcity of provisions.
'On reaching Bamsay's Mills, his men

Chap. XXII.]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

219

were starving with hunger, and fed vo
raciously on some fresh quarters of beef
left behind by the British army. The
troops were much exhausted, and stood
in need of repose and refreshment. Be
sides, in that critical state of the cam
paign, he found himself reduced to a
handful of continentals. Most of the
militia had left him. Small as his army
was, he found great difficulty in procur
ing subsistence for it.
Cornwallis had fairly the start of the
Americans, and was advancing to a
place where he would find more plenti
ful supplies, and easily communicate
with the sea ; so that Greene was sensi
ble that with the force then under his
command he could make no impression
on him. He resolved, therefore, instead
of following his opponent, to proceed to
South Carolina. That step, he thought,
would oblige Cornwallis either to fol
low him or to abandon his posts in the
upper parts of the Southern States. If
he followed him, North Carolina would
be relieved, and enabled to raise its
quota of men for the continental service ;
but if he remained in that State, or pro
ceeded to the northward, it was likely
that the greater part of the British posts
in South Carolina and Georgia would be
reduced, and that those States would be
restored to the Union. He entertained
little apprehension of Cornwallis being
able, with the force then under his com
mand, to make any permanent impres
sion on the powerful State of Virginia.
Having refreshed his troops, and col
lected provisions for a few days, Greene

moved from Bamsay's Mills, on Deep
Biver, on the 5th of April, towards
Camden; and on the morning of the
20th of the same month encamped at
Logtown, in sight of the British works
at that place.
Soon after his arrival at Wilmington,
Cornwallis received certain information
that Greene was proceeding to South
Carolina ; and it threw him into much
perplexity. He was alarmed for the
safety of Lord Bawdon; but, though
desirous of assisting him, he was con
vinced that the Americans were already
so far advanced, that it was impossible
for him to arrive at Camden in time to
succor Bawdon, if he should need it.
His lordship's fate, and that of his garri
son, would probably be decided long
before he could reach them; and if
Greene should be successful at Camden,
he, by attempting to relieve it, might
be hemmed in between the great rivers,
and exposed to the most imminent haz
ard. On the other hand, if Bawdon
should defeat Greene, there would be no
need of his assistance. A movement so
perilous in the execution, and promising
so little in the result, was abandoned,
and Bawdon left to his own resources.
Greene, without regard to the move
ments of his opponent, pushed on and
established himself at Hobkirk's Hill,
about a mile from Bawdon's head-quar
ters at Camden. The militia having
either deserted, or their term of service
being expired, his force was reduced to
eighteen hundred men ; but those, in
fact, included all on whom he could

220

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ever place much dependence. Camden
was occupied by Rawdon, with about
eight hundred men, the other troops
being employed upon the defence of
detached posts ; yet his position was
judged so strong as to afford no hope
of success in a direct attack. The ob
ject aimed at was, by throwing out de
tachments which might capture the
forts, and cut off the supplies in his
rear, to compel him gradually to fall
back. Lee, for this purpose, was sent
with a strong party to co-operate with
Marion and Sumter. The English gen
eral, seeing the hostile troops thus re
duced to about fifteen hundred, formed
the bold resolution of attacking them.
Making a large circuit round a swamp,
he came upon their left flank quite
unexpectedly, while the soldiers were
busied in cooking and washing. This
first surprise was never wholly recov
ered ; yet they quickly stood to their
arms, and formed in order of battle.
They had even gained some advantages,
when the 1st Maryland regiment, con
sidered the flower of the army, and
which had highly distinguished itself
both at Cowpens and Guilford, fell into
confusion ; and when ordered to make
a retrograde movement, converted it
into a complete retreat. The other
corps, also, beginning to give ground,
Greene thought it expedient to cause
the whole to retire. The loss on each
side was about two hundred and sixty
killed and wounded; and the Ameri
cans carried off fifty prisoners, including
six officers.

This battle, commonly called the bat
tle of Hobkirk's Hill, reflected much
honor on Lord Rawdon, considering the
disproportion of force which was, in
fact, greater than at Guilford; yet it
did not change materially the relative
situation of the armies. Greene could
still maintain his position, and support
the detachments operating in the rear
of his adversary.
Lee and Marion proceeded next
against- Fort Watson on the Santee,
which commanded in a great measure
the communication with Charleston.
Having neither artillery nor besieging
tools, they reared a tower above the
level of the rampart, whence their rifle-
fire drove the defenders, and themselves
then mounted and compelled the gar
rison to surrender. They could not,
however, prevent Colonel Watson from
leading five hundred men to reinforce
Lord Rawdon, who then advanced with
the intention of bringing Greene again
to action, but found him fallen back
upon so strong a position, as to afford
no reasonable hope of success. His
lordship finding his convoys intercept
ed, and viewing the generally insecure
state of his posts in the lower coun
try, considered himself under at least
the temporary necessity of retreating
thither. He had first in view the relief
of Motte's House, on the Congaree ; but
before reaching it, had the mortification
to find that, with the garrison of one
hundred and sixty-five, it had fallen
into the hands of Marion and Lee. He
continued his march to Monk's Corner,

Chap. XXII.]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

2-21

where he covered Charleston and the
surrounding country.
The pai'tisan chiefs rapidly seized this
opportunity of attacking the interior
posts, and reduced successively Orange
burg, and Granby on the Congaree ; and
early in June, Augusta, the key of Up
per Georgia, surrendered to Lee and
Pickens.* In these five forts they made
eleven hundred prisoners. The most
important one, however, was that named
Ninety-Six, on the Saluda, defended by
a garrison of five hundred men. Orders
had been sent to them to quit and retire
downwards ; but the messenger was in
tercepted ; and Colonel Cruger, the com
mander, made the most active prepara
tions for its defence. Greene considered
the place of such importance, that he
undertook the siege in person, with a
thousand regulars. He broke ground
before it on the night of the 23d of
May, and though much impeded by a
successful sally on the following
day, proceeded with such en
ergy, that by the 3d of June, the second
parallel was completed, and the garrison
summoned, but in vain, to surrender.
On the 8th, he was reinforced by
Lee, from the capture of Augusta ; and
though he encountered a most gallant
and effective resistance, trusted that the
place must in due time fall. Three
days after, however, he learned that
Rawdon, having received a reinforce
ment from Ireland, was in full march
to relieve it, and had baffled the at-

1781.

• See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.
Voi. IL— 29

tempts of Sumter to impede his prog
ress. The American leader, therefore,
feeling himself unable to give battle,
saw no prospect of carrying the fortress,
unless by storm. On the 18th, an at
tack against the two most commanding
outworks was led by Lee and Campbell,
the former of whom carried his point ;
but the latter, though he penetrated
into the ditch, and maintained his party
there for three quarters of an hour,
found them exposed to so destructive a
fire as compelled a general retreat.f
The siege was immediately raised, and
Lord Rawdon, on the 21st, entered the
place in triumph. Being again master
of the field, he pressed forward in the
hope of bringing his antagonist to bat
tle ; but the latter rather chose to fall
back towards the distant point of Char
lotte in Virginia, while Bawdon did not
attempt to pursue him beyond the En-

noree.

Notwithstanding this present superi
ority, his lordship, having failed in his
hopes of a decisive victory, and viewing
the general aspect of the country, con
sidered it no longer possible to attempt
more than covering the lower districts
of South Carolina. He therefore fell
back to Orangeburg on the Edisto ; and
though he attempted at first to main
tain Cruger with a strong body at
Ninety-Six, was soon induced to recall
him. Greene, being reinforced by one
thousand men under Marion and Sum-
¦]¦ On this occasion Kosciusko, the Polish general, par
ticularly distinguished himself: see Document [B] at
the end of this chapter.

222

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

1781.

ter, reconnoitred his position, but judg
ing it imprudent to attack, retired to
the high hills of the Santee, July
the 15th, and both armies, ex
hausted by such a series of active move
ments, took an interval of repose during
the heat of the season.
Lord Bawdon being at this time
obliged by ill health to return to Eng
land, left the army under the command
of Colonel Stuart, who, to cover the
lower country, occupied a position at
the point where the Congaree and
Wateree unite in forming the Santee.
Greene, having received reinforcements
from the North, and collected all his
partisan detachments, soon found him
self strong enough to try the chance of
battle. His approach on the *7th of
September with this evident view, in
duced the British to retire down the
river, to the strong post of Eutaw
Springs,* whither the American army
immediately followed.
On the 8th of September, Greene
determined to attack the British camp,
placing as usual his militia in front,
hoping that the English in charging
them would get into confusion; but
from apprehension of this, the latter had
been warned to keep their posts till
ordered to move. The American front,
however, maintained their ground better
than usual, and the British having be
come heated, and forgetting the warn
ings given, pushed forward irregularly.
They were then charged by the veter-
e See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

ans of the second line, and after a very
desperate struggle, driven off the field.
There lay in their way, however, a large
brick building and adjacent garden,
where Stuart had placed a strong corps,
which could not be dislodged, and which
kept up a deadly fire, which checked the
victors, enabling the retreating troops to
be formed anew. At the same time,
Colonel Washington attacked the Brit
ish flank ; but finding it strongly posted
amongst the woods, he was repulsed with
great loss, and himself taken prisoner.
The American general seeing no hope
of making any further impression, re
treated to his previous position. The
conflict lasted four hours, and great
bravery was shown on both sides. Col
onel Campbell was mortally wounded.
Learning the British were dispersing, he
exclaimed, like Wolfe at Quebec, "Then
I die contented !" and immediately ex
pired. In this bloody and doubtful battle
both parties claimed the victory, though
the Americans with most reason, as the
general result was greatly to their ad
vantage. It was certainly far from de
cisive; and the British loss in killed
and wounded was much greater than
that of the Americans, who also carried
off above five hundred prisoners. The
British commander, prompted as well
probably by the result of the day as
by the general state of the country, and
the numbers and activity of the Ameri
can light troops, conceiving himself un
able to maintain so advanced a position,
retired during the evening of the 9th,

Chap. XXK]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

223

and proceeded down to Monk's Corner,
where he covered Charleston and its
vicinity. To this and to Savannah were
now limited that proud British author
ity which had lately extended so widely
over the Southern States.*
a In the southern provinces the campaign of 1781 was
uncommonly active. The exertions and sufferings of the
army were great. But the troops were not the only suf
ferers ; the inhabitants were exposed to many calamities.
The success of Colonel Campbell at Savannah laid Georgia
and the Carolinas open to all the horrors which attend
the movements of conflicting armies, and the rage of civil
dissensions, for two years.
In those provinces the inhabitants were nearly divided
between the British and American interests, and, under
the names of Tories and Whigs, exercised a savage hostility
against each other, threatening the entire depopulation
of the country. Besides, each of the contending armies,
claiming the provinces as its own, showed no mercy to
those who, in the fluctuations of war, abandoned its cause
or opposed its pretensions. Numbers were put to death
as deserters and traitors at the different British posts.
One of those executions, that of Colonel Hayne, hap
pened at Charleston on the 4th of August, while Lord
Rawdon was in that town, preparing to sail for Europe,
and threatened to produce the most sanguinary conse
quences. Colonel Hayne had served in the American militia
during the siege of Charleston, but after the capitulation
of that place, and the expulsion of the American army
from the province, he was, by several concurring circum
stances, constrained, with much reluctance, to subscribe
a declaration of allegiance to the British government,
being assured that his services against his country would
not be required. He was allowed to return to his family,
but, in violation of the special condition on which he had
signed the declaration, he was soon called on to take up
arms against his countrymen, and was at length threat
ened with close confinement in case of further refusal.
Colonel Hayne considered this breach of contract on the
part of the British, and their inability to afford him the
protection promised in reward of his allegiance, as ab
solving him from the obligations into which he had
entered, and accordingly he returned to the American
standard. In the month of July he was taken prisoner,
confined in a loathsome dungeon, and, by the arbitrary
mandate of Lord Rawdon and Colonel Balfour, without
trial, hanged at Charleston. He behaved with much
firmness and dignity, and his fate awakened a, strong
sensation .

Thus ended the campaign of 1*781 in
South Carolina. At its commencement
the British were in force all over the
State. History affords but few instances
of commanders who have achieved so
much, with equal means, as was done by
General Greenef in the short space of
twelvemonths. He opened the cam
paign with gloomy prospects, but closed
it with glory. His unpaid and half-
naked army had to contend with vet
eran soldiers, supplied with every thing
that the wealth of Great Britain or
the plunder of Carolina could procure.
Under all these disadvantages he com
pelled superior numbers to retire from
the extremity of the State, and confine
themselves in the capital and its vicin
ity. Had not his mind been of the
firmest texture he would have been dis
couraged ; but his enemies found him as
formidable on the evening of a defeat
as on the morning after a victory.
The reader will not fail to perceive
how important a bearing the operations
of Greene in the South had upon those
of Washington in the North. Before
recovering North Carolina, South Caro
lina, and Georgia, Greene had partly led
and partly driven Cornwallis into Vir
ginia, where he was destined to be con
quered by Washington, and the war
was thus to be virtually terminated.
How this was accomplished will now be
the object of our attention.
Virginia had insensibly, as it were,
become the principal theatre of war.
¦f See Document [D] at the end of this chapter.

224

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

General Leslie had been sent thither to
reinforce Cornwallis, who, it was hoped,
might penetrate through the Carolinas ;
but after Ferguson's disaster, he was or
dered to go round by Charleston. With
the view, however, of creating a diver
sion in favor of the southern army, Clin
ton, in December, 1780, sent Arnold
with sixteen hundred men to the Chesa
peake. That infamous traitor, display
ing all his wonted activity, overran a
great extent of country, and captured
Bichmond, the capital, destroying great
quantities of stores. Washington, most
anxious to strike a blow against him,
prevailed upon Destouches, the French
admiral, to proceed thither with a land
force, but the latter was overtaken by
Arbuthnot, and endured a hard battle,
which, though not admitted to be a de
feat, obliged him to return to Newport ;
thus Arnold escaped the danger of fall
ing into the hands of his enraged coun
trymen. Clinton, still with the same
view, sent another force of two thousand
men, under General Phillips, which ar
rived in the Chesapeake on the 26th of
March. This officer, being complete
master of the field, overran the country
between the James and York livers,
seized the town of Petersburg, as also
Chesterfield Courthouse, the militia ren
dezvous, and other stations, destroying
great quantities of shipping and stores,
with all the warehoused tobacco. La
fayette, then in command of about three
thousand men for the defence of Vir
ginia, succeeded by skilful manoeuvring
in securing Richmond.

Operations seemed at a stand, when,
late in April, intelligence was received
of Cornwallis's march from South Caro
lina towards Virginia ; and, in spite of
every effort of Lafayette, he, at
the end of May, joined Phillips
at Petersburg, taking the command of
the whole army. Being then decidedly
superior, he took possession of Richmond,
and began a hot pursuit of Lafayette,
who retreated into the upper country so
rapidly and so skilfully that he could
not be overtaken. The English general
then turned back, and sent a detach
ment under Colonel Simcoe, who de
stroyed the chief magazine at the junc
tion of the two branches of James River.
Tarleton pushed his cavalry so swiftly
upon Charlotteville, where the State
Assembly was met, that seven members
were taken, and the rest very narrowly
escaped. Lafayette, however, now re
turned with a considerable force, and
by his manoeuvres induced the Britisli
commander to retire to Williamsburg
He afterwards continued his retreat tc
Portsmouth, in the course of which the
former made an attack, but was re
pulsed, and would have been totally
routed, had not his strength been esti
mated above its real amount.
The movement of Cornwallis into Vir
ginia had been wholly disapproved by
Clinton, who complained that, contrary
to all his views and intentions, the main
theatre of war had been transferred to a
territory into which he never proposed
more than partial inroads, considering
it very difficult to subdue and maintain.

Chap. XXn.]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

225

His grand object had always been, first
to secure New York, and, if sufficient
strength was afforded, to push offensive
operations thence into the interior.
Hoping, therefore, that the Carolinas,
once subdued, might be retained by a
small force, he had repeatedly solicited
the partial return of the troops. Corn
wallis defended the movement by ob
serving, that his situation at Wilming
ton, allowing no time to send for instruc
tions, obliged him to act on his own
responsibility. Communicating also with
the government at home, he urged that
the Carolinas could not be securely held
without the possession also of Virginia ;
that this might be attained by a vigor
ous effort, and would make Britain mis
tress of all the southern colonies, whose
resources could be then employed in
conquering the more stubborn regions
of the North. These arguments, re
commended by his lordship's brilliant
achievements at Camden and elsewhere,
convinced the ministry ; and Lord Ger-
maine wrote to the commander-in-chief
to direct his principal attention to the
war in Virginia, and to the plan of con
quest from south to north. The latter,
considering himself thus slighted, soli
cited permission to resign, and leave the
command to an officer who enjoyed
greater confidence ; but his merits being
highly estimated, this tender was not
accepted. Under the apprehension inspired by

the threatening movements of Washing
ton and the French army against New
York, he had ordered a considerable
reinforcement from Virginia, but coun
termanded it on receiving the above
instructions, along with an additional
body of troops. He had formed, appar
ently, a favorite plan somewhat of a
compromise between the two. It is
nowhere distinctly developed in his let
ters ; but by a passage in one, very
active operations were proposed at the
head of the Chesapeake, to be combined
probably with a movement from New
York, and comprehending Philadelphia
and Baltimore. Aware that this plan
required the maritime command of that
great inlet, he inquired if ministers
would insure its maintenance ; and they
made this engagement without duly
considering its difficulties. Under these
views, he directed Cornwallis to occupy
and fortify a naval position at the en
trance of the bay, specially recommend
ing Old Point Comfort, at the mouth of
James River. This measure did not har
monize with Cornwallis's views: how
ever, he obeyed ; but the above position
being declared by the engineers indefen
sible, he recommended, in preference,
Yorktown, on the York river, which
was agreed to, and operations actively
commenced at the latter end of August.
The whone British force at this time
in Virginia was about seven thousand
men.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XXII.

[A.]
v MAJOR-GENERAL ANDREW PICKENS.
This able commander was born in Bucks
county, Pennsylvania, on the 13th of Septem
ber, 1739. His ancestors were driven from
France by the revocation of the edict of Nantes.
They first settled in Scotland, and afterwards
in the north of Ireland. His father emigrated
to Pennsylvania, from whence he removed to
Augusta county, Virginia, and soon after to the
Waxhaws, in South Carolina, before Andrew
had attained the age of manhood.
Like many of our most distinguished officers
of the Revolution, he commenced his military
services in the French War, which terminated in
1763, when he began to develop those qualities
for which he was afterwards so eminently distin
guished. In the year 1761, he served as a vol
unteer with Moultrie and Marion, in a bloody
but successful expedition, under Lieutenant-
colonel Grant, a British officer, sent by General
Amherst to command against the Cherokees.
After the termination of the war, he removed
to the Long Cane settlement, and was wholly
engaged for several years in the usual pursuits
of a frontier country — hunting and agriculture.
At an early period he took a decided stand
against the right claimed by Great Britain to
tax her colonies without their consent, and at
the commencement of the Revolution was ap
pointed captain of militia. The distinguished
part which he acted in the struggle for inde
pendence has been recorded by the historian,
and the principal events can only be alluded to
in the present sketch. His zeal and skill were
rewarded by his country, by his being rapidly
promoted to the respective commands of major,

colonel, and brigadier-general. In the most de
spondent time, when the Carolinas and Georgia
were overrun by the enemy, and suffered from
the tories all the horrors of civil war, he re
mained unshaken, and, with Marion and Sum
ter, kept up the spirit of resistance. He com
manded in chief in the expedition against the
Cherokees in 1781, and such was his success,
that in a few days, with an inconsiderable force,
he subdued the spirit of that then powerful
nation, and laid the foundation of a peace so
permanent that it was never after disturbed.
At Kettle Creek his conduct was equally dis
tinguished and successful : with half the force
he defeated, after a severe contest, a large body
of tories, under the command of Colonel Boyd.
The results of this victory were highly impor
tant. It broke the spirit of the tories, and se
cured the internal peace, for a considerable time,
of the interior of the Carolinas and Georgia.
No less conspicuous was his conduct at the
Cowpens. He there commanded the militia
forces ; and, animated by the spirit and cour
age of their commander in that important battle,
they fairly won an equal share of glory with the
continentals under Colonel Howard. For his
gallantry and conduct on that occasion, Con
gress voted him a sword. At the Eutaw, he
commanded, with Marion, the militia of the two
Carolinas ; but in the early part of the action
received a severe wound in his breast by a
musket-ball. His life was providentially saved
by the ball striking the buckle of his sword.
When Charleston fell, and the victorious
army, spreading itself over the country, ad
vanced into the interior, the reviving resent
ments of the royalists compelled Colonel Pick
ens, and the steady adherents of the cause of

Chap. XXII.]

DOCUMENTS.

freedom, to abandon their habitations and seek
for refuge in North Carolina. So soon, how
ever, as General Greene had taken command of
the army, and ordered General Morgan to enter
the western division of the State, to check the
aggressions of the enemy, and to revive the
drooping spirits of the whig inhabitants, Colo
nel Pickens was found the most active among
his associates, seconding his enterprises, and by
gentleness and conciliation attaching new ad
herents to the cause. Of his intrepid conduct
at the battle of the Cowpens it is scarcely neces
sary to speak. It is a well-known fact, that he
not only prevailed upon his riflemen to retain
their fire till it could be given with deadly effect,
but, when broken, and compelled to retreat,
that he rallied them, and brought them a sec
ond time to meet their enemy, and by continued
exertion to accomplish their final surrender.
Peace being restored, the voice of his coun
try called him to serve her in various civil capa
cities ; and he continued, without interruption,
in public employment until about 1801. By
the treaty of Hopewell, with the Cherokees, in
which he was one of the commissioners, the
cession of that portion of the State now called
Pendleton and Greenville was obtained. Soon
after he settled at Hopewell, on Keowee River,
where the treaty was held. He was a member
of the legislature, and afterwards of the conven
tion which formed the State constitution. He
was elected a member under the new constitu
tion, until 1794, when he became a member of
Congress. Declining a re-election to Congress,
he was again returned a member to the legisla
ture, in which post he continued until about
1811. Such was the confidence of General
Washington in him, that he requested his at
tendance at Philadelphia, to consult with him
on the practicability and best means of civilizing
the southern Indians ; and he also offered him
the command of a brigade, of light troops, under
the command of General Wayne, in his cam
paigns against the northern Indians, which he
declined. In 1794, when the militia was first
organized conformable to the act of Congress,
he was appointed one of the two major-generals,
which commission he resigned after holding it a
fow years. He was employed by the United

States as a commissioner in all the treaties with
the southern Indians, until he withdrew from
public life.
Determining to enjoy that serenity and tran
quillity which he had so greatly contributed to
establish, with the simplicity of the early times
of the Roman republic he retired from the busy
scenes of life, and settled on his farm at Tomus-
see (a place peculiarly interesting to him), where
he devoted himself with little interruption to
domestic pursuits and reflection until his death.
At this tranquil period, few events happened
to check the tenor of his happy and virtuous
life. Revered and beloved by all, his house,
though remote from the more frequented parts
of the State, was still the resort of numerous
friends and relations, and often received the
visits of the enlightened traveller. Such was
the gentle current of his latter years ; still, of
earthly objects, his country was the first in his
affections. He viewed with great interest the
struggle of 1812, and the causes which excited
it, distinctly perceiving that in its consequences
the prosperity, independence, and glory of his
country were deeply involved : he was fully alive
to its various incidents. In this hour of danger
the eyes of his fellow-citizens were again turned
to their tried servant, and without his knowl
edge he was again called, by the spontaneous
voice of his fellow-citizens, into public service.
Confidence thus expressed could not be disre
garded : he accepted a seat in the legislature,
and was pressed to serve as governor at that
eventful crisis, which, with his characteristic
moderation and good sense, he declined. He
thought the struggle should be left to more
youthful hands.
He died in South Carolina on the 11th of
October, 1817.

[B.]
KOSCIUSKO.

Among the foreign officers who served in the
Revolutionary War, by far the most renowned,
with the exception of Lafayette alone, is Kosci
usko. In this country he performed no very
brilliant or important service, yet, from his dis-

/28

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

tinguished character as a patriot, and the noble
struggles he made in defence of the indepen
dence of his own country, and to realize the
last hopes of his friends, a sketch of his life can
not but be interesting, and properly belongs to
a work containing the memoirs of the military
heroes of the American Revolutionary War.
This high-minded patriot was first distinguished
in the war which terminated in the first dismem
berment of Poland by Russia, Austria, and
Prussia. Poland had long been distracted with dissen
sions, often breaking out into civil war; and
particularly since the conquest of the country
by Charles XII. of Sweden, which led to the
interference of Russia, and afterwards that dan
gerous neighbor always had a strong party in
Poland, and generally a controlling influence.
Charles XII. conquered Augustus, and compel
led him to abdicate in favor of Stanislaus Leczin-
ski, whom he had previously caused to be elected
king. The armies of the Czar, which Augustus
had availed himself of, had not been sufficient
to save him from this humiliating result. The
battle of Pultowa overthrew the power of
Charles ; and Augustus was restored by the aid
of Russia, the latter taking care to be well paid
for its friendly interference. During the reign
of this prince and his son, Augustus II., Poland
was little better than a Russian province, sur
rounded by Russian troops; and the country
torn to pieces by contentions among the nobles,
they were kept on the throne only by the power
of Russia.
On the death of Augustus n., in 1764, Catha
rine II., Empress of Russia, compelled the Diet
to elect Stanislaus Poniatowski, a Pole of noble
rank, who had resided for some time at Peters
burg, and made himself agreeable to the em
press, who supposed that his election would pro
mote the influence and designs of Russia. This
increased the disorders and inflamed the rage of
the two great parties, the Russian and anti-Rus
sian, towards each other. At this time, to their
political causes of dissension were added those
of religion. The Protestants, who in Poland were
called dissidents, had long been tolerated, but
still suffered under many civil disabilities, which
were greatly increased by a decree that was

passed during the interregnum that preceded
the election of Poniatowski. They were, in a
great measure, denied the free exercise of reli
gious worship, and excluded from all political
privileges. This unjust and impolitic measure
roused the spirit of the Protestants ; they peti
tioned and remonstrated ; they applied to the
courts of Russia, Prussia, Great Britian, and
Denmark, all of which remonstrated to the gov
ernment of Poland, but without any essential
effect. Some unimportant concessions were
made, which did not satisfy the dissidents, who
were determined to maintain their rights with
their blood, being encouraged to this determin
ation by assurance of support from Russia, Aus
tria, and Prussia. The Catholics were not be
hind their opponents in preparations for war;
the " Confederation of the Barr" formed the
bulwark of their strength and hopes. With
both parties, religion and liberty became the
watchword and signal for war. The confeder
ates, as the Catholics were denominated, not
only wished to overcome their opponents, but
to dethrone Stanislaus, and rescue the country
from the influence of Russia. This desperate
civil war was very gratifying to the ambitious
neighbors of Poland, who, a considerable time
before, had entered into a secret treaty for the
conquest and partition of Poland. The armies
of Russia, Prussia, and Austria invaded the
country in various directions, and seized on dif
ferent provinces.
The confederates, or the anti-Russian party,
comprising most of the distinguished Polish pa
triots, made a resolute and determined struggle ;
but, being feebly supported by Saxony and
France, and having to contend with numerous
forces of the coalition which invaded the coun
try, as well as those of their opponents at home,
they were defeated in every quarter, and the
country left a prey to the three royal plunder
ers. They issued a manifesto, declaring that
the dissensions and disorders of Poland had ren
dered their interference necessary, and that they
had adopted combined measures for the re-estab
lishment of good order in Poland, and the set
tlement of its ancient constitution, and to secure
the national and popular liberties of the people
on a solid basis. But the security and protec-

Chap. XXII.]

DOCUMENTS.

229

tion which they afforded to unhappy Poland,
was like that which the wolf affords to the lamb,
and the tears they shed over her misfortunes,
were like those of the crocodile when preying
on its victim. Instead of securing the right of
the dissidents, which was the professed object
of the war, the combined sovereigns thought
only of aggrandizing themselves ; and, after
great difficulty, they finally succeeded in divid
ing the spoil, a treaty for the partition of Poland
being concluded at Petersburg, in February,
1772. Russia took a large proportion of the east
ern provinces ; Austria appropriated to herself
a fertile tract on the southwest, and Prussia the
commercial district in the northwest, including
the lower part of Vistula; leaving only the cen
tral provinces, comprising Warsaw and Cracow,
the modern and ancient capital. Thus was Po
land despoiled by three royal robbers, which
Europe witnessed, not without astonishment, but
without any effectual interference. The courts
of London, Paris, Stockholm, and Copenhagen
remonstrated against this violent usurpation,
which probably had as much effect as was ex
pected — none at all.
In this unjust and cruel war, Kosciusko had
taken an active and zealous part in defence of
the independence of his country ; but his patri
otism and exertions were unavailing; the patri
otic Poles could not resist the power of faction
and the invading armies of three formidable
neighbors. To strengthen their acquisitions, the
allied powers insisted on Stanislaus convoking
a Diet to sanction the partition; and, notwith
standing the influence of three powerful armies,
the Diet refused to ratify this injustice for a con
siderable time ; but, by promises of favors, and by
profuse use of money among the members, to
gether with the influence of military force, a
majority of six in the Senate, and of one in the
Assembly, was at length obtained in favor of the
iniquitous measure, and commissioners were ap-
poi nted to adj ust the terms of the partition. This
completed the humiliation and degradation of
Poland, and occasioned many of her most dis
tinguished patriots to leave their dismembered
and unhappy country. This took place in May,
1773. Kosciusko was among those who retired
from the country.
Vol. 11—30

The war that broke out between the Ameri
can colonies and Great Britain opened a field
for military adventurers from Europe, it being
supposed that America was destitute of men of
military science and experience ; and being justly
regarded as a contest for liberty, between an
infant people, few in number, and with feeble
means, and the most powerful nation on earth,
many patriots of the old world repaired to Amer
ica as volunteers in the cause of freedom. The
first events and successes of the contest, and the
dignified attitude assumed by the solemn declar
ation of independence, produced the most favor
able impression abroad, which brought many
distinguished foreigners to our shores in the
early part of the year 1777. The distinguished
Polish patriot who is the subject of this brief
notice, and his countryman, Count Pulaski, were
among the number. It is not known at what
time either of them arrived, but it is believed it
was early in the year 1777, as the latter was
present and distinguished himself at the battle of
Brandywine. So many foreigners of distinction
arrived, that Congress was embarrassed in giv
ing them employment corresponding with their
expectations and rank; and, from the commis
sions which were given to foreigners, disagree
able jealousies were produced among the native
officers of the continental army. Kosciusko,
like the Marquis de La Fayette and others, had
been influenced wholly by patriotic motives and
an ardent attachment to liberty ; he had no oe
casion to acquire military fame, and he possess
ed a soul which raised him infinitely above be
coming a mercenary soldier. He wanted neither
rank nor emolument ; his object was to serve
the cause, not to serve himslf. He however re
ceived a colonel's commission, and was employed
under General Greene in the southern campaign
of 1781. In the attack on Ninety-Six, a very
strong post of the enemy in South Carolina, Kos
ciusko being a skilful engineer, Greene intrusted
to him the important duty of preparing and con
structing the works for the siege. He continued
in the service until after the capture of Corn
wallis at Yorktown, which terminated all the
important operations of the war.
On leaving America, Kosciusko returned to
his native country, where he exerted himself for

230

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

the improvement of the political condition of his
countrymen, and promoting the general pros
perity. In 1789, he was made major-general in
the Polish army. He served with distinction in
the campaign of 1792, against the Russians, but
King Stanislaus having soon after submitted to
the will of the Empress Catharine, and Poland
being occupied by Russian troops, Kosciusko
with several other officers left the service, and
withdrew to Germany. When the revolution
broke out in Poland, at the beginning of 1794,
Kosciusko was put at the head of the national
forces, which were hastily assembled, and in a
great measure were destitute of arms and artil
lery. In April, 1794, he defeated a numerically
superior Russian force at Raclawice. Again, in
the month of June, he attacked the united Rus
sians and Prussians near Warsaw, but was de
feated, and obliged to retire into his intrenched
camp before the capital. He then defended that
city for two months against the combined forces
of Russia and Prussia, and obliged them to raise
the siege. Fresh Russian armies, however, hav
ing advanced from the interior under Suwarrow
and Fersen, Kosciusko marched against them
with twenty-one thousand men. The Russians
wTere nearly three times the number, and on the
10th of October the battle of Macziewice took
place, about fifty miles from Warsaw. After a
desperate struggle the Poles were routed, and
Kosciusko, being wounded, was taken prisoner,
exclaiming that there was an end of Poland.
The storming of Praga by Suwarrow, and the
capitulation of Warsaw, soon followed. Kosci
usko was taken to St. Petersburg as a state pris
oner, but being afterwards released by the Em
peror Paul, he proceeded to London. He was
here treated with great consideration, on ac
count of his eminent services and sufferings in
the cause of his country. While residing in
London, he was still suffering with wounds which
he had received in his last battle with the Rus
sians. His portrait was painted several times,
reclining upon a sofa — once, we believe, by Mr.
West. After residing some time in London he
returned to America, where he was received, as
the illustrious defenders of our country are al
ways received, with every mark of distinction.
He went to France in 1798. Napoleon re

peatedly endeavored to engage Kosciusko to
enter his service as Dombrowski and other Po
lish officers had done, and to use the influence
of his name among his countrymen to excite
them against Russia ; but Kosciusko saw through
the selfish . ambition of the conqueror, and de
clined appearing again on the political stage.
A proclamation to his country, which the French
Moniteur ascribed to him, in 1806, was a fabri
cation. He continued to live in retirement in France
until 1814, when he wrote to the Emperor Alex
ander, recommending to him the fate of his
country. In 1815, after the establishment of the
new kingdom of Poland, Kosciusko wrote again
to the emperor, thanking him for what he had
done for the Poles, but entreating him to extend
the benefit of nationality to the Lithuanians also,
and offering for this boon to devote the remainder
of his life to his service. Soon after he wrote to
Prince Czartorinski, testifying likewise his grati
tude for the revival of the Polish name, and his
disappointment at the crippled extent of the new
kingdom, which, however, he attributed not to
the intention of the emperor, but to the policy
of his cabinet, and concluded by saying that, as
he could be of no further use to his country, he
was going to end his days in Switzerland.
In 1816 Kosciusko settled at Soleure, in Swit
zerland, where he applied himself to agricultural
pursuits. He died in October, 1817, in conse
quence of a fall from his horse. His remains
were removed to Cracow, by order of Alexan
der of Russia, and placed in the vaults of the
kings of Poland. His countrymen subsequently
raised a colossal monument to his memory on a
plain near Cracow.
A beautiful monument to his memory has
been erected at West Point, by the cadets of
the Military Academy, at an expense of about
five thousand dollars.

[C]
COLONEL JOHN EAGER HOWARD.
John Eager Howard was born in Baltimore
county, Maryland, on the 4th of June, 1752.
His ancestors were among the first settlers of

Chap. XXII.]

DOCUMENTS.

231

the State, his grandfather, Joshua Howard,
having emigrated from England in 1686. Here
he obtained a tract of land, and married Miss
Joanna O'Carroll, daughter of a gentleman from
Ireland. His son, Cornelius, became affianced
to Miss Ruth Eager, a descendant of an English
landholder under the charter of Lord Baltimore.
These were the parents of Colonel Howard.
Little of military history is woven with the
family history, except that the grandfather
fought under the Duke of York during the
Monmouth insurrection, and seems to have been
once or twice concerned in some Indian dif
ficulties. Of Howard's early life we know nothing. He
was certainly not educated for a particular pro
fession, and probably was either brought up to
farming, or without any specific prospects as to
his future course. The breaking out of the
Revolution, however, roused him to activity;
and so eager did he become to espouse the
cause of his country, that the committee of
safety offered him a commission as colonel.
This, however, he declined to accept, on account
of its important duties, and contented himself
with the rank of captain. He raised a company
in three days, marched to the main army, and
fought for the first time at White Plains. In
September of the same year, Congress promoted
him to the rank of major in the continental
ranks, just raised to serve during the remainder
of the war. In the retreat through the Jerseys,
he displayed the active watchfulness which made
him afterwards so famous in the South, and was
much engaged in assisting the recruiting service.
While the enemy were trying to get possession
of Philadelphia, in 1777, he was frequently with
parties sent to harass them ; and when they em
barked for the Chesapeake, he was serving with
the main army under Washington.
He was now permitted to leave the army for
some time on account of the death of his father,
but joined it in time to assist at the battle of
Germantown. The following extracts from one
of his letters, will show the part he took in this
action. " As we [Sullivan's division] descended into
the valley near Mount Airy, the sun arose, but
was soon obscured. The British picket at Al

len's house had two six-ponnders, which were
several times fired at the advance, and killed
several persons. Sullivan's division formed in a
lane running from Allen's house towards the
Schuylkill, our left about two hundred yards
from the house. Soon after being formed, we
had orders to move on, and advanced through
a field to the encampment of the British light
infantry, in an orchard, where we found them
formed to receive us. A close and sharp ac
tion commenced, and continued fifteen or twen
ty minutes, when the British broke and re
treated. ******
" Colonel Hall, who was on foot, ordered me
to bring up the company that had crossed the
road ; but finding them engaged from behind
houses with some of the enemy, who I supposed
had belonged to the picket, I judged it not
proper to call them off, as it would expose our
flank. I reported to Colonel Hall, who then
desired me to let him have my horse, and said
he would bring them up himself. Riding one
way and looking another, the horse ran with
him under a cider-press, and he was so hurt that
he was taken from the field. I was then left in
command of the regiment, as Lieutenant-colonel
Smith some time before had been detached to
Fort Mifflin. The enemy by this time had
given way, and I pushed on through their en
campment, their tents standing ; and in the
road, before we came opposite to Chew's house,
took two six-pounders, which I suppose were
those that had been with the picket ; but, as
the drag-ropes had been cut and taken away,
we could do nothing with them. I had orders
to keep to the right of the road, and as we
passed Chew's house, we were fired at from the
upper windows, but received no injury. We
passed on to the rear of several stone houses, to
an orchard, where we were halted by Colonel
Hazen. ****** Whilst we were halted, the
British army were formed in the Schoolhouse
Lane, directly in our front, six or seven hundred
yards from us, but owing to the denseness of
the fog, which had greatly increased after the
commencement of the action, we could not see
them. About the time of the attack on the
house, a party of Muhlenburg's and Scott's bri
gades from the left wing, particularly the 9th

232

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

Virginia regiment, commanded by Colonel
Mathews, advanced to the eastward of Chew's
house, and penetrated to the market-house.
The British general, Grey, brought from their
left the 4th brigade, under Agnew, and three
battalions of the 3d, and made an attack upon
them, whilst they were engaged with two regi
ments brought up from the right wing. Thus
assailed in front and on both wings, Mathews
defended himself with great bravery, and did
not surrender until the most of his officers were
killed or wounded. He himself received several
bayonet wounds."
After this battle, Washington retired to the
hilly country near Philadelphia, and for a con
siderable time neither army appeared willing
to molest the other. Major Howard was with
the Americans during this inactive period, but
of the particular nature of his duties we are in
formed nothing. On one occasion, Howe left
Philadelphia with the avowed purpose of giving
battle ; but after manoeuvring for some time,
broke up his camp, returned to the city, and
both armies resumed their inactivity until the
British evacuated Philadelphia. Major Howard
moved with the Americans in pursuit, and was
subsequently engaged in the battle of Mon
mouth. In the spring of 1 780, fourteen hundred troops,
principally from Delaware and Maryland, em
barked on the Chesapeake, in order to relieve
Charleston, which was then besieged by a large
British force. They failed to accomplish their
object, being unable to reach Petersburg until
June, nearly a month after Charleston had ca
pitulated. Major Howard accompanied these
troops, and on the first of June was promoted
to the rank of lieutenant-colonel of the fifth
Maryland regiment, in the army of the United
States, to take rank as such from the 11th day
of March, 1778.
Colonel Howard bore an ample share in the
disastrous march of Gates to the South, the
particulars of which are given in another part of
this volume. Diseased, emaciated, and half-
starved, the Americans were hurried into ac
tion, with a superior veteran force free from all
these difficulties, and totally defeated. Few bri
gades suffered more than the two from Mary

land, one of which was commanded by Howard.
He charged the enemy in front of him with the
bayonet ; but the rout of the main body frus
trated the benefits of this commencement, and
almost all the brigade being dispersed, the colo
nel retreated with the wretched remnant to
Charlotte. The sufferings experienced by the militia after
the battle of Camden were dreadful. Alarm
flew like a withering pestilence through the coun
try; forts and villages were abandoned, compa
nies broken up, and firesides deserted. The
soldiers who could be kept together, often sub
sisted for several days on nothing but unrij>e
peaches, and the warmest friends of liberty be
gan to consider the South as lost to the confed
eracy. In October an infantry battalion was organ
ized, and the command given to Lieutenant-
colonel Howard, with orders to take a position
favorable for watching the enemy. During the
same month, Ferguson was defeated at King's
Mountain, which tended not a little to restore
the spirits of the Americans. Little of interest
then transpired until the arrival of General
Greene as commander of the southern army.
This wras in December.
We now come to the greatest military event
in the life of Colonel Howard — the battle of Cow
pens. In the disposition for battle, the colonel's
troops, composed of the continental infantry and
two companies of the Virginia militia under
captains Triplett and Taite, occupied the second
line behind General Pickens. When the militia
of the latter officer retreated, Tarleton fell furi
ously upon Howard, who, after an obstinate
struggle, fell back and formed a new line of bat
tle. Considering this retrograde movement the
precursor of flight, the British rushed on with
impetuosity and disorder ; but, as they drew
near, Howard faced about and gave them a close
and murderous fire. Stunned by this unexpected
shock, the most advanced of the enemy recoiled
in confusion, and, seizing the happy moment,
the colonel ordered a charge with the bayonet,
which decided the day. We give the particulars
of this brilliant movement in his own words : — ¦
" Seeing my right flank was exposed to the ene
my, I attempted to change the front of Wal-

Chap. XXII.]

DOCUMENTS.

233

lace's company ; in doing it, some confusion en
sued, and first a part, and then the whole of
the company commenced a retreat. The offi
cers along the line seeing this, and supposing
that orders had been given for a retreat, faced
their men about and moved off. Morgan, who
had mostly been with the militia, quickly rode
up to me and expressed apprehensions of the
event ; but I soon removed his fears by pointing
to the line, and observing that men were not
beaten who retreated in that order. He then
ordered me to keep with the men until we came
to the rising ground near Washington's horse ;
and he rode forward to fix on the most proper
place for us to halt and face about. In a minute
we had a perfect line. The enemy were now
very near us. Our men commenced a very de
structive fire, which they little expected, and a
few rounds occasioned great disorder in their
ranks. While in this confusion, I ordered a
charge with the bayonet, which order was obey
ed with great alacrity. As the line advanced,
I observed their artillery a short distance in
front, and called to Captain Ewing, who was
near me, to take it. Captain Anderson hearing
the order, also pushed for the same object; and
both being emulous for the prize, kept pace un
til near the first piece, when Anderson, by put
ting the end of his spontoon forward into the
ground, made a long leap, which brought him
upon the gun, and gave him the honor of the
prize. My attention was now drawn to an al
tercation of some of the men, with an artillery
man, who seemed to make it a point of honor not
to surrender his match. The men, provoked by
his obstinacy, would have bayoneted him on the
spot, had I not interfered, and desired them to
spare the life of so brave a man. He then sur
rendered his match. In the pursuit, I was led
to the right, in among the 71st [British regi
ment], who were broken into squads ; and as I
called to them to surrender, they laid down their
arms, and the officers delivered up their swords.
Captain Duncanson, of the 7lst grenadiers, gave
me his sword, and stood by me. Upon getting
on my horse, I found him pulling at my saddle,
and he nearly unhorsed me. I expressed my
displeasure, and asked him what he was about.
The explanation was, that they had orders to

give no quarters, and did not expect any ; and,
as my men were coming up, he was afraid they
would use him ill. I admitted his excuse, and
put him into the care of a sergeant. I had mes
sages from him some years afterwards, express
ing his obligation for my having saved his life."
On the occasion of the remarkable retreats of
Morgan and Greene, subsequent to this battle,
Colonel Howard was engaged in the most press
ing and fatiguing duties. When it became
necessary to march towards the Dan, he was
left with Colonel Williams, who had been or
dered to take post between the retreating and
advancing armies, to hover round the skirts of
the latter, to seize every opportunity of striking
in detail, and to retard the enemy by vigilance
and judicious movements ; while Greene, with
the main body, proceeded towards the river.
This manoeuvre on the part of the American
general was judicious, and had an immediate ef
fect. Cornwallis, finding a corps of horse and
foot close in his front, whose strength and object
were not immediately ascertainable, checked the
rapidity of his march, to give time for his long-
extended line to condense. Could Williams
have withdrawn himself from between Greene
and Cornwallis, he might, perhaps, by secretly
reaching the British rear, have performed mate
rial service. Although his sagacity discovered
the prospect, yet his sound judgment would not
adopt a movement which might endanger the
retreat of an army, whose safety was the object
of his duty, and indispensable to the common
cause. He adhered, therefore, to the less daz
zling but more useful system, and placed his at
tention, first on the safety of the main body, next
on that of the corps under his command ; risk
ing the latter only when the security of Greene's
retreat demanded it, and then without hesita
tion. Pursuing his course obliquely to the left,
he reached an intermediate road, the British ar
my being on his left and in his rear, the Ameri
can in front and on his right.
The duty, severe in the day, became more so
at night ; for numerous patrols and strong pick
ets were necessarily furnished by the light troops,
not only for their own safety, but to prevent the
enemy from placing themselves, by a circuitous
march, between Williams and Greene. Such a

234

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

manoeuvre would have been fatal to the Ameri
can army ; and to render it impossible, half the
troops were alternately appropriated every night
to duty ; so that each man during the retreat
was entitled to but six hours' repose in forty-
eight. Notwithstanding this privation, the
troops were in fine spirits and good health ; de
lighted with their task, and determined to prove
themselves worthy of the distinction with which
they had been honored. At the hour of three
their toils were renewed; for Williams always
pressed forward with the utmost dispatch in the
morning, to gain such a distance in front as
would secure to his soldiers breakfast, their only
meal during this rapid and hazardous retreat.
We are unable to follow Colonel Howard
through all the intricacies of this admirable
retreat. He fully realized the expectations of
his brother officers, and carried his detachment
safely to the main camp. The part he took in
the battle of Guilford Courthouse, is thus de
scribed in his own words : —
" The [British] guards, after they had defeat
ed General Stephens, pushed into the cleared
ground and ran at the second regiment, which
immediately gave way, — owing, I believe, in a
great measure to the want of officers, and hav
ing so many new recruits. The guards pursued
them into our rear, where they took two pieces
of artillery. This transaction was in a great
measure concealed from the first regiment by
the wood, and unevenness of the ground. But
my station being on the left of the first regi
ment, and next the cleared ground, Captain
Gibson, deputy adjutant-general, rode to me,
and informed me that a party of the enemy, in
ferior in numbers to us, were pushing through
the cleared ground and into our rear, and that
if we would face about and charge them we
might take them. We had been for some time
engaged with a party of Webster's brigade,
though not hard pressed, and at that moment
their fire had slackened. I rode to Gunby and
gave him the information. He did not hesitate
to order the regiment to face about, and we
were immediately engaged with the guards. Our
men gave them some well-directed fires, and we
then advanced and continued firing. At this
time Gunby's horse was shot, and when I met

him some time after, he informed me that his
horse fell upon him, and it was with difficulty
he extricated himself. As we advanced, I ob
served Washington's horse, and as their move
ments were quicker than ours, they first charged
and broke the enemy. My men followed very
quickly, and we passed through the guards,
many of whom had been knocked down by the
horse without being much hurt. We took some
prisoners, and the whole were in our power.
After passing through the guards, I found my
self in the cleared ground, and saw the 7 1st
regiment near the courthouse, and other col
umns of the enemy appearing in different direc
tions. Washington's horse having gone off, I
found it necessary to retire, which I did leisure
ly ; but many of the guards who were lying on
the ground, and who we supjjosed were wound
ed, got up and fired at us as we retired."
On the death of Lieutenant-colonel Ford, who
was wounded in this battle, Colonel Williams
received the command of the 2d regiment, in
which capacity he served at the battle of Eu-
taw. Here, as usual, the bayonet was his prin
cipal reliance, and after a most stubborn conflict,
in which one half of his men were killed or
wounded, and seven officers out of twelve dis
abled, he completely swept the field. "Noth
ing," says General Greene soon after the battle,
"could exceed the gallantry of the Maryland
line. Colonels Williams, Howard, and all the
officers exhibited acts of uncommon bravery ;
and the free use of the bayonet by this and some
other corps gave us the victory."
In this action Howard was severely wounded,
and before his recovery the war was virtually
ended. After the war he married Miss Marga
ret Chewr, daughter of a gentleman of Philadel
phia, and settled with her upon his patrimonial
estate. He was chosen governor of Maryland
in 1788, and served three years. In 1794 he
declined a commission as major-general of mili
tia. In 1795 Washington pressed him to accept
the office of secretary of war, but he declined,
principally on account of ill health. " Had your
inclination," writes Washington to him, " and
private pursuits permitted you to take the office
that was offered to you, it would have been a
very pleasing circumstance to me, and I am per-

Itfr/jor General -ZTiW&l Staias^drmj
-ROM THE ORIGINAL PICTURE BY.CHAPPEL IN THE POSSESSiON OF THE PUBLISHERS,

Joins «a, &J * C° RiHLihars.BS:

Chap. XXII.J

DOCUMENTS.

235

suaded, as I observed to you on a former occa
sion, a very acceptable one to the public. But
the reasons which you have assigned must,
however reluctantly, be submitted to." He was
subsequently named by Washington as one of
his brigadiers, in the event of war with France.
For some years he was a member of the Mary
land legislature, and in 1796 was elected to the
United States Senate, where he remained until
1803. After the capture of the capital by Gen
eral Ross, in 1814, Colonel Howard was appoint
ed to the command of a corps raised for the de
fence of Baltimore. To a suggestion that it
would be expedient to surrender that city, he
exclaimed, " I have as much property at stake
as most persons, and I have four sons in the
field ; but sooner would I see my sons weltering
in their blood, and my property reduced to
ashes, than so far disgrace the country." The
defeat and death of Ross relieved the public
from anxiety.
From this time until 1821, we hear little of
Colonel Howard. A series of domestic calami
ties then commenced, which probably tended to
shorten his own days. In that year he lost his
eldest daughter; in 1822, his eldest son; and in
1824, his wife. On the 12th of October, 1827,
after a short illness, the father and husband fol
lowed them to another world.
Mr. Adams, then president, thus notices this
event, in a letter to the family : —
" The President of the United States has re
ceived with deep concern the communication
from the family of the late Colonel Howard, in
forming him of the decease of their lamented
parent. Sympathizing with their affliction upon
the departure of their illustrious relative, he only
shares in the sentiment of universal regret with
which the offspring of the revolutionary age,
throughout the Union, will learn the close of a
life, eminently adorned with the honors of the
cause of independence, and not less distinguish
ed in the career of peaceful magistracy, in later
time. He will take a sincere, though melan
choly satisfaction, in uniting with his fellow-citi
zens in attending the funeral obsequies of him,
whose name has been long, and will ever remain,
enrolled among those of the benefactors of his
country."

His funeral was very large, and attended by
the president, and civil and military authorities.
The legislature of Maryland ordered his por
trait to be placed in the chamber of the House
of Delegates ; and that of South Carolina re
solved, " That it was with feelings of profound
sorrow and regret, that South Carolina received
the melancholy intelligence of the death of Col
onel John Eager Howard, of Maryland, and
that the State of South Carolina can never for
get the distinguished services of the deceased."
Colonel Howard was one of the true heroes
of the Revolution. Entering the field a young
man, well-educated and well-principled, devoted
to the cause of freedom, and full of military en
thusiasm, his career was as brilliant as it was
fortunate. Whenever he was called to duty by
his country, he was found to be fully equal to
the occasion ; and the revolutionary war closed
leaving him in the full vigor of manhood, pos
sessed of an ample fortune, and crowned with
honorable laurels.
The distinctions which he subsequently en
joyed in civil life, only served to develop more
fully his abilities and patriotic spirit ; and he
finally passed from the scene of action with the
reverence, affection, and applause of his grate
ful countrymen.

[D.]
GENERAL GREENE.
General Nathaniel Greene was the son of
Nathaniel Greene, a member of the Society of
Friends, an anchor-smith. He was born in the
year 1741, in Warwick, Kent county, R. I.
He had only a common-school education. This
did not satisfy him, for while serving a sort of
apprenticeship with his father at the forge, he
continued to raise sufficient funds to form a
small but well-selected library; and spent his
evenings and all the time he could redeem from
his father's business in study.
At a period of life unusually early, Greene
was elevated by a very flattering suffrage to a
seat in the legislature of his native colony. This
was the commencement of a public career which,
heightening as it advanced, and flourishing in

236

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV

the midst of difficulties, closed with a lustre that
was peculiarly dazzling.
Thus introduced into the councils of his coun
try at a time when the rights of the subject and
the powers of the ruler were beginning to be
topics of liberal discussion, he felt it his duty to
avow his sentiments on the momentous question.
Nor did he pause or waver, as to the principles
he should adopt, and the decision he should
form. He was inflexibly opposed to tyranny
and oppression in every shape, and manfully
avowed it. But his character, although form
ing, was not completely developed until the
commencement of the troubles which termi
nated in independence. It was then that he
aspired to a head in the public councils ; and
throwing from him, as unsuitable to the times,
the peaceful habits in which he had been edu
cated, sternly declared for a redress of griev
ances, or open resistance. This open departure
from the sectarian principles in which he had
been educated, was followed, of course, by his im
mediate dismission from the Society of Friends.
The sword was earliest unsheathed in the
colony of Massachusetts ; and on the plains of
Lexington and Concord the blood of British
soldiers and American citizens mingled first in
hostile strife. Nor was Rhode Island, after that
sanguinary affair, behind her sister colonies in
gallantry of spirit and promptitude of prepara
tion. Greene commenced his military pupilage in
the capacity of a private soldier, in October,
1774, in a military association commanded by
James M. Varnum, afterwards brigadier-general.
But Rhode Island having in the month of May,
1775, raised three regiments of militia, she
placed them under the command of Greene,
who, without loss of time, conducted them to
headquarters, in the village of Cambridge.
On the 2d of July, 1775, Washington, invested
by Congress with the command in chief of the
armies of his country, arrived at Boston. Greene
availed himself of an early opportunit)', amid the
public demonstration of joy, to welcome the
commander-in-chief in a personal address, in
which, with much warmth of feeling and kind
ness of expression, he avowed his attachment to
his person, and the high gratification he derived

from the prospect of being associated with him
in arms, and serving under him in defence of
the violated rights of his country.
This was a happy prelude to a friendship be
tween these two great and illustrious officers,
which death alone had the power to dissolve.
It is a fact of notoriety, that when time and
acquaintance had made him thoroughly ac
quainted with the character and merits of Gen
eral Greene, Washington entertained, and fre
quently expressed an anxious wish, that in case
of his death, he might be appointed his suc
cessor to the supreme command.
During the investment of Boston by the
American forces, a state of things which lasted
for months, no ojjportunity presented itself to
Greene to acquire distinction by personal exploit.
But his love of action and spirit of adventure
were strongly manifested, for he was one of the
few officers of rank who concurred with Wash
ington in the propriety of attempting to carry
the town by assault.
On the evacuation of Boston by the British,
the American troops were permitted to repose
from their toils, and to exchange for a time the
hardships and privations of a field encampment,
for the enjoyment of plenty, in comfortable bar
racks. During this period of relaxation, Greene
continued with unabating industry his military
studies, and as far as opportunity served, his
attention to the practical duties of the field.
This course, steadily pursued under the immedi
ate supervision of Washington, could scarcely
fail to procure rank and lead to eminence. Ac
cordingly, on the 26th of August, 1776, he was
promoted by Congress to the rank of major-
general in the regular army.
A crisis most gloomy and portentous to the
cause of freedom had now arrived. In the re
treat which now commenced through New Jer
sey, Washington was accompanied by General
Greene, and received from him all the aid that,
under circumstances so dark and unpromising,
talents, devotion, and firmness could afford.
Possessed alike of an ardent temperament, hearts
that neither danger nor misfortune could appal,
and an inspiring trust in the righteousness of
their cause, it belonged to the character of these
two great and illustrious commanders never for

Chap. XXII.]

DOCUMENTS.

237

a moment to despair of their country. Hope
and confidence, even now, beamed from their
countenances, and they encouraged their follow
ers, and supported them under the pressure of
defeat and misfortune.
Greene was one of the council of Washington
who resolved on the enterprise of the 26th of
December, 1776, against the post of the enemy
at Trenton. The issue is known, and is glorious
in our history. About one thousand Hessians,
in killed, wounded, and prisoners, with their
arms, field equipage, and artillery, were the tro
phies of that glorious morning, which opened on
the friends of American freedom with the day-
star of hope. He was again of the council of
the commander-in-chief, in planning the daring
attack of the 2d January, 1777, on the British
garrison at Princeton, as well as his associate in
achieving its execution. In both these brilliant
actions, his gallantry, prudence, and skill being
alike conspicuous, he received the applause of his
commander. He continued the associate and
most confidential counsellor of Washington
through the gloomy and ominous period that
followed. In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandy-
wine, General Greene, by his distinguished con
duct, added greatly to his former renown. In
the course of it, a detachment of American troops
commanded by General Sullivan, being unex
pectedly attacked by the enemy, retreated in
disorder. General Greene, at the head of Wee-
don's Virginia brigade, flew to their support. On
approaching, he found the defeat of General Sul
livan a perfect rout. Not a moment was to be
lost. Throwing himself into the rear of his flying
countrymen, and retreating slowly, he kept up,
especially from his cannon, so destructive a fire
as greatly to retard the advance of the enemy.
Aiming at length at a narrow defile, secured on
the right and left by thick woods, he halted,
sent forward his cannon, that they might be out
of danger, in case of his being compelled to a
hasty retreat, and formed his troops, determined
to defend the pass with his small-arms. This
he was enabled to do with complete success,
notwithstanding the vast superiority of the as
sailants, until after a conflict of more than an
hour and a half, night came on and brought it
Vol. II.— 31

to a close. But for this quick-sighted interposi
tion, Sullivan's detachment must have been
nearly annihilated.
On this occasion only did the slightest mis
understanding ever occur between General
Greene and the commander-in-chief. In his
general orders after the battle, the latter neg
lected to bestow any special applause on Wee-
don's brigade. Against this General Greene
remonstrated in person.
Washington replied, " You, sir, are considered
my favorite officer. Weedon's brigade, like my
self, are Virginians. Should I applaud them for
their achievement, under your command, I shall
be charged with partiality ; jealousy will be ex
cited, and the service injured."
" Sir," exclaimed Greene, with considerable
emotion, "I trust your Excellency will do me
the justice to believe that I am not selfish. In
my own behalf I have nothing to ask. Act to
wards me as you please ; I shall not complain.
However richly I prize your Excellency's good
opinion and applause, a consciousness that I have
endeavored to do my duty, constitutes, at pres
ent, my richest reward. But do not, sir, let me
entreat you, on account of the jealousy that may
arise in little minds, withhold justice from the
brave fellows I had the honor to command."
Convinced that prudence forbade the special
notice requested, the commander-in-chief persist
ed in his silence. Greene, on cool reflection,
appreciated the motives of his general, and lost
no time in apologizing for his intemperate man
ner, if not for his expressions. Delighted with
his frankness and magnanimity, Washington re
plied, with a smile, — "An officer, tried as you
have been, who errs but once in two years, de
serves to be forgiven." With that he offered
him his hand, and the matter terminated.
Following General Greene in his military ca
reer, he next presents himself on the plains of
Germantown. In this daring assault he com
manded the left wing of the American army, and
his utmost endeavors were used to retrieve the
fortune of the day, in which his conduct met the
approbation of the commander-in-chief. Lord
Cornwallis, to whom he was often opposed, had
the magnanimity to bestow upon him a lofty enco
mium. " Greene," said he, " is as dangerous as

238

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

Washington. He is vigilant, enterprising, and
full of resources. With but little hope of gain
ing any advantage over him, I never feel secure
when encamped in his neighborhood."
At this period the quartermaster department
in the American army was in a very defective
and alarming condition, and required a speedy
and radical reform ; and Washington declared
that such reform could be effected only by the
appointment of a quartermaster-general of great
resources, well versed in business, and possessing
practical talents of the first order. When re
quested by Congress to look out for such an
officer, he at once fixed his eye on General
Greene. Washington well knew that the soul of Greene
was indissolubly wedded to the duties of the
line. Notwithstanding this, he expressed, in
conversation with a member of Congress, his
entire persuasion, that if General Greene could
be convinced of his abihty to render his country
greater services in the quartermaster depart
ment than in the field, he would at once accej>t
the appointment. " There is not," said he, " an
officer of the army, nor a man in America, more
sincerely attached to the interests of his coun
try. Could he best promote their interests in
the character of a corporal, he would exchange,
as I firmly believe, without a murmur, the epau
let for the knot. For although he is not with
out ambition, that ambition has not for its ob
ject the highest rank, so much as the greatest
good.'" When the appointment was first offered Gen
eral Greene he declined it ; but after a confer
ence with the commander-in-chief, he consented
to an acceptance, on condition that he should
forfeit nothing of his right to command in time
of action. On these terms he received the ap
pointment, on the 22d of March, 1776, and en
tered immediately on the duties of the office.
In this station he fully answered the expecta
tions formed of his abilities, and enabled the
American army to move with additional celerity
and vigor.
During his administration of the quartermas
ter department, he took, on two occasions, a
high and distinguished part in the field; the
first in the battle of Monmouth ; the second in

a very brilliant expedition against the enemy in
Rhode Island, under the command of General
Sullivan. At the battle of Monmouth, the com
mander-in-chief, disgusted with the behavior of
General Lee, deposed him in the field of battle,
and appointed General Greene to command the
right wing, where he greatly contributed to re
trieve the errors of his predecessor, and to the
subsequent events of the day.
His return to his native State was hailed by
the inhabitants with general and lively demon
strations of joy. Even the leading members of
the Society of Friends, who had reluctantly ex
cluded him from their communion, often visited
him at his quarters, and expressed their sincere
satisfaction at the elevation he had attained in
the confidence of his country. One of these
plain gentlemen being asked in jest, by a young
officer, how he, as an advocate of peace, could
reconcile it with his conscience to keep so much
company with General Greene, whose profession
was war, promptly replied : — " Friend, it is not
a suit of uniform that can either make or spoil
a man. True, I do not approve of this many-
colored apparel (the officer's dress), but what
ever may be the form or color of his coat, Na
thaniel Greene still retains the same sound head
and virtuous heart that gained him the love and
esteem of our Society."
During the year 1779, General Greene was
occupied exclusively in the extensive concerns
of the quartermaster department.
About this time, General Greene was called
to the performance of a duty the most trying
and painful he had ever encountered. We al
lude to the melancholy affair of Major Andre,
adjutant-general to the British army, who was
captured in disguise within the American lines.
Washington detailed a court for his trial, com
posed of fourteen general officers, Lafayette and
Steuben being two of the number, and appointed
General Greene to preside.
When summoned to this trial, Andre frankly
disclosed, without interrogatory, what bore
heaviest on his own life, but inviolably concealed
whatever might endanger the safety of others.
His confessions were conclusive, and no witness
was examined against him. The court w-ere
unanimous, that he had been taken as a spy,

Chap. XXII.]

DOCUMENTS.

239

and must suffer deith. Of this sentence he did
not complain, but wished that he might be per
mitted to close a life of honor by a professional
death, and not be compelled, like a common fel
on, to expire on a gibbet. To effect this, he
made, in a letter to Washington, one of the
most powerful and pathetic appeals that ever
fell from the pen of a mortal.
Staggered in his resolution, the commander-
in-chief referred the subject, accompanied by the
letter, to his general officers, who, with one ex
ception, became unanimous in their decision that
Andre should be shot.
That exception was found in General Greene,
the president of the court. " Andre," said he,
" is either a spy or an innocent man. If the lat
ter, to execute him in any way will be murder ;
if the former, the mode of his death is prescrib
ed by law, and you have no right to alter it.
Nor is this all. At the present alarming crisis
of our affairs, the public safety calls for a solemn
and impressive example. Nothing can satisfy it
short of the execution of the prisoner as a com
mon spy ; a character of which his own confes
sion has clearly convicted him. Beware how
you suffer your feelings to triumph over your
judgment. Indulgence to one may be death to
thousands. Besides, if you shoot the prisoner,
instead of hanging him, you will excite suspicion
which you will be unable to allay. Notwith
standing all your efforts to the contrary, you
will awaken public compassion, and the belief
will become general, that, in the case of Major
Andre, there were exculpatory circumstances,
entitling him to lenity beyond what he received
— perhaps entitling him to pardon. Hang him,
therefore, or set him free."
This reasoning being considered conclusive,
the prisoner suffered as a common spy.
We have now advanced to that period of the
Revolutionary War, in which the situation of
Greene is about to experience an entire change.
No longer acting in the vicinity, or subject to
the immediate orders of a superior, we are to
behold him, in future, removed to a distance,
and virtually invested with the supreme com
mand of a large section of the United States.
Congress, dissatisfied with the loss of the
southern army, resolved that the conduct of

General Gates should be submitted to the exam
ination of a court of inquiry, and the commander-
in-chief directed to appoint an officer to succeed
him. In compliance with the latter part of the
resolution, Washington, without hesitation, of
fered the appointment to General Greene. In a
letter to Congress, recommending the general
to the support of that body, he made the most
honorable mention of him as " an officer in whose
abilities, fortitude, and integrity, from a long
and intimate experience of them, he had the
most entire confidence." Writing to Mr. Mat
thews, a member from Charleston, he says,
" You have your wish in the officer appointed to
the southern command. I think I am giving
you a general ; but what can a general do with
out arms, without clothing, without stores, with
out provisions ?"
As we have given so full an account of Gen
eral Greene's campaign in the South, in several
preceding chapters of this work, we refrain from
noticing it in this connection, further than to say
that it placed him among the most renowned
commanders known to history.
Judge Johnson, in his Life of General Greene,
says : — "At the battle of Eutaw Springs, Greene
says, ' that hundreds of my men were naked as
they were born.' Posterity will scarcely believe
that the bare loins of many brave men who car
ried death into the enemy's ranks at the Eutaw,
were galled by their cartouch boxes, while a
folded rag or a tuft of moss protected the shoul
ders from sustaining the same injury from the
musket. Men of other times will inquire, by
what magic was the army kept together ? By
what supernatural power was it made to fight ?"
General Greene, in his letters to the secretary
at war, says: — "We have three hundred men
without arms, and more than one thousand so
naked that they can be put on duty only in
cases of a desperate nature." Again he says : —
" Our difficulties are so numerous, and our wants
so pressing, that I have not a moment's relief
from the most painful anxieties. I have more
embarrassments than it is proper to disclose to
the world. Let it suffice to say that this part
of the United States has had a narrow escape.
I have been seven months in the field without
taking off iny clothes."

240

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

The battle of the Eutaw Springs was the last
essay in arms in which it was the fortune of Gen
eral Greene to command, and was succeeded by
the abandonment of the whole of South Caroli
na by the enemy, except Charleston. During
the relaxation that followed, a dangerous plot
was formed by some mutinous persons of the
army to deliver up their brave general to the
British. The plot was discovered and defeated;
the ringleader apprehended, tried, and shot ;
and twelve of the most guilty of his associates
deserted to the enemy. To the honor of the
American character, no native of the country
was known to be concerned in this conspiracy.
Foreigners alone were its projectors and abet
tors. The surrender of Lord Cornwallis, whose en
terprising spirit had been, by the British minis
try, expected to repair the losses, and wipe
away the disgrace, which had been incurred
through the inactivity and indolence of other
generals, having convinced them of the imprac
ticability of subjugating America, they discon
tinued offensive operations in every quarter.
The happy period at length arrived, when, by
the virtue and bravery of her sons, aided by the
bounty of Heaven, America compelled her in
vaders to acknowledge her independence. Then
her armies quitted the tented field, and retired
to cultivate the arts of peace and happiness.
General Greene immediately withdrew from the
South, and returned to the bosom of his native
State. The reception he there experienced was cor
dial and joyous. The authorities welcomed him
home with congratulatory addresses, and the
chief men of the place waited upon him at his
dwelling, eager to testify their gratitude for his
services, their admiration of his talents and vir
tues, and the pride with which they recognized
him as a native of Rhode Island.
On the close of the war, the three southern
States that had been most essentially benefited
by his wisdom and valor, manifested at once
their sense of justice and their gratitude to
General Greene, by liberal donations. South
Carolina presented him with an estate valued at
ten thousand pounds sterling ; Georgia, with an
estate, a few miles from the city of Savannah,

worth five thousand pounds ; and North Caro
lina, with twenty-five thousand acres of land in
the State of Tennessee.
Having spent about two years in his native
State, in the adjustment of his private affairs,
he sailed for Georgia in October, 1785, and set
tled, with his family, on his estate near Savan
nah. Engaging here in agricultural pursuits, he
employed himself closely in arrangements for
planting, exhibiting the fairest promise to be
come as eminent in the practice of the peaceful
virtues, as he had already shown himself in the
occupations of war.
But it was the will of Heaven, that in this
new sphere of action his course should be lim
ited. The short period of seven months was
destined to witness its commencement and its
close. Walking over his grounds, as was his custom,
without his hat, on the afternoon of the 15th
June, 1786, the day being intensely hot, he was
suddenly attacked with such a vertigo and pros
tration of strength as to be unable to return to
his house without assistance. The affection was
what was denominated a " stroke of the sun."
It was succeeded by fever, accompanied with
stupor, delirium, and a disordered stomach. All
efforts to subdue it proving fruitless, it termina
ted fatally on the 19th of the month.
Intelligence of the event being conveyed to
Savannah, but one feeling pervaded the place.
Sorrow was universal, and the whole town in
stinctively assumed the aspect of mourning. All
business was suspended ; the dwelling-houses,
stores, and shops were closed, and the shipping
in the harbor half-masted their colors.
On the following day the body of the de
ceased, being conveyed to the town, at the re
quest of the inhabitants, was interred in a pri
vate cemetery with military honors ; the magis
trates of the place, and other public officers, the
society of the Cincinnati, and the citizens gene
rally, joined in the procession.
On the 12th of August, of the year in which
the general died, the Congress of the United
States unanimously resolved, "That a monu
ment be erected to the memory of the Honora
ble Nathaniel Greene, at the seat of the Federal
Government, with the following inscription : —

Chap. XXH.]

CAMPAIGN AT THE SOUTH.

¦41

SACRED
to the memory
of the
HON. NATHANIEL GREENE,
who departed this life the 19th of June,
MDCCLXXXVI.
late major-general in the service of the
United States,
and commander of the army in the
Southern Department.
The United States, in Congress assembled,
in honor of
his patriotism, valor, and ability,
have erected this
monument.
To the disgrace of the nation, no monument
has been erected ; nor, for the want of a head
stone, can any one at present designate the spot
where the relics of the Hero of the South lie in
terred. In estimating the military character of Gen
eral Greene, facts authorize the inference that
he possessed a genius adapted by nature to mili
tary command. After resorting to arms, his
attainment to rank was much more rapid than
that of any other officer our country has pro
duced ; perhaps the most rapid that history re
cords. These offices, so high in responsibility
and honor, were conferred on him, not as mat
ters of personal favor, or family influence, nor
yet through the instrumentality of political in
trigue. They were rewards of pre-eminent
merit, and tokens of recognized fitness for the
highest functions of military service.
It is said, that on his very first appearance in
the camp at Cambridge, from the ardor of his
zeal, unremitted activity, and strict attention to
e^ ery duty, he was pronounced, by soldiers of
distinction, a man of real mihtary genius.
" His knowledge," said General Knox to a

distinguished citizen of South Carolina, "is in
tuitive. He came to us the rawest and most un
tutored being I ever met with ; but in less than
twelve months he was equal in military knowl
edge to any general officer in the army, and very
superior to most of them." Even the enemy he
conquered did homage to his pre-eminent talents
for war. Tarleton, who had strong reasons for
knowing him, is reported to have pronounced
him, on a public occasion, the most able and ac
complished commander that America had pro
duced. When acting under the orders of others, he
never failed to discharge, to their satisfaction,
the duties intrusted to him, however arduous.
But it is the southern department of the Union
that constitutes the theatre of his achievements
and fame. It was there, where his views were
unshackled and his genius free, that by perform
ing the part of a great captain, he erected for
himself a monument of reputation, durable as his
tory, lofty as victory and conquest could render
it, and brightened by all that glory could bestow.
In compliment to his brilliant successes, the
chivalric De la Luzerne, the minister of France,
who, as a Knight of Malta, must be considered as
a competent judge of military merit, thus speaks
of him : — " Other generals subdue their enemies
by the means with which their country or their
sovereign furnish them ; but Greene appears to
subdue his enemy by his own means. He com
menced his campaign without either an army,
provisions, or military stores. He has asked for
nothing since ; and yet scarcely a post arrives
from the South that does not bring intelligence
of some new advantage gained over his foe. He
conquers by magic. History furnishes no par
allel to this."

CHAPTER XXIII.
1781.
WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.
Gloomy state of national affairs in the spring of 1781. — Colonel John Laurens sent to France to solicit a loan, and
naval and military reinforcements. — Washington's letter to him. — Laurens's success. — Arrival of De Barras and
Rochambeau. — Conference at Wethersfleld. — Its result. — Apathy of the States. — Force of the army with Wash
ington at Peekskill. — Arrival of a reinforcement from France. — Robert Morris appointed to superintend the
finances. — His patriotism. — The Bank. — French troops march. — Washington advances to the north end of York
Island. — The British retreat. — Washington retires to Dobbs' Ferry. — Arrival of the French army under Rocham
beau. — Attack on New York meditated. — Movements of Clinton. — Count De Grasse sails from France. — Goes to
the West Indies. — Gives notice to Washington that he will go to Chesapeake Bay. — Washington determines to
transfer the theatre of war to Virginia. — Heath left at West Point. — Washington marches for Virginia. — Deceives
Clinton. — French and American armies march through Philadelphia. — Naval movements. — Encounter off Chesa
peake Bay between Graves and De Grasse. — De Barras arrives. — Graves leaves De Grasse in possession of the Bay.
—Operations on land. — Arnold's expedition to New London. — Capture of the forts and death of Colonel Ledyard.
— Washington and Rochambeau enter Virginia. — They consult with De Grasse on board the flag-ship. — Washing
ton prevails on De Grasse to remain during the siege of Yorktown. — Position of Yorktown. — Siege commenced. —
Cannonading and bombarding. — Description of the effect by night. — Ships of the enemy burnt. — Capture of two
redoubts by the Americans under Lafayette and the French under Viomenil. — Anecdote of Washington. — Sally
of the enemy under Colonel Abercrombie. — Cornwallis capitulates. — Terms. — Description of the surrender. — Ef
fect of the surrender of Cornwallis on Congress and the country. — Clinton's vain attempt to relieve Cornwallis. —
Washington endeavors to engage De Grasse in further operations. — Departure of De Grasse. — Anecdote of Corn
wallis. — The credit of Cornwallis's capture due to Washington's superior strategy.

"We have already seen, by the quota
tion from "Washington's journal, how
gloomy was the prospect presented to
him at this time. He evidently saw lit
tle to encourage a hope of the favor
able termination of the campaign of
that year. Indeed, it is quite apparent
that our national affairs were then at a
lower ebb than they had ever been
since the period immediately preceding
the battle of Trenton. But by the
merciful interposition of divine Provi
dence, the course of events took a favor
able turn much sooner than he had an

ticipated. His letter to Colonel John
Laurens, on the occasion, already men
tioned, of that gentleman's mission to
France to obtain a loan, had been pro
ductive of remarkable effects.
In this paper he detailed the pecuni
ary embarrassments of the government,
and represented, with great earnestness,
the inability of the nation to furnish a
revenue adequate to the support of the
war. He dwelt on the discontents
which the system of impressment had
excited among the people, and express
ed his fears that the evils felt in the

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

243

prosecution of the war, might weaken
the sentiments which began it.
From this state of things he deduced
the vital importance of an immediate
and ample supply of money, which
niioht be the foundation for substantial
arrangements of finance, for reviving
public credit, and giving vigor to future
operations ; as well as of a decided effort
of the allied arms on the continent to
effect the great objects of the alliance,
in the ensuing campaign.
Next to a supply of money, he con
sidered a naval superiority in the Amer
ican seas as an object of the deepest
interest. To the United States it would be of
decisive importance, and France also
might derive great advantages from
transferring the maritime war to the
coast of her ally.
The future ability of the United
States to repay any loan which might
now be obtained was displayed ; and he
concluded with assurances that there
was still a fund of inclination and re
source in the country, equal to great
and continued exertions, provided the
means were afforded of stopping the
progress of disgust, by changing the
present system, and adopting another
more consonant with the spirit of the
nation, and more capable of infusing
activity and energy into public meas
ures ; of which a powerful succor in
money must be the basis. " The people
were discontented ; but it was with the
feeble and oppressive mode of conduct
ing the war, not with the war itself."

With great reason did Washington
urge on the cabinet of Versailles the
policy of advancing a sum of money to
the United States which might be ade
quate to the exigency. Deep was the
gloom with which the political horizon
was then overcast. The British, in pos
session of South Carolina and Georgia,
had overrun the greater part of North
Carolina also; and it was with equal
hazard and address that Greene main
tained himself in the northern frontier
of that State.
A second detachment from New York
was making a deep impression on Vir
ginia, where the resistance had been
neither so prompt nor so vigorous as
the strength of that State and the una
nimity of its citizens had given reason
to expect.
Such were the facts and arguments
urged by Washington in his letter to
Colonel Laurens. Its able exposition ot
the actual state of the country, and his
arguments in support of the application
of Congress for a fleet and army, as well
as money, when laid before the king and
the ministry, decided them to afford the
most ample aid to the American cause.
A loan of six millions was granted,
which was to be placed at Washington's
disposal; but he was happy to be re
lieved from that responsibility. A loan
from Holland was also guaranteed by
the French government, and large rein
forcements of ships and men were sent
to the United States. The intelligence
of these succors followed within a few
days after the desponding tc ne of Wash-

244

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ington's journal, to which we have just
referred. Early in May the Count de Barras,
who had been appointed to the com
mand of the French fleet on the Ameri
can coast, arrived at Boston, accompa
nied by the Viscount de Rochambeau,
commander of the land forces. An in
terview between Washington and the
French commanders was immediately
appointed to be held at Wethersfield,
near Hartford, on the 21st; but some
movements of the British fleet made De
Barras repair to Newport, while the
two generals met at the appointed place,
and agreed on a plan of the campaign.
It was resolved to unite the French and
American armies on the Hudson, and to
commence vigorous operations against
New York. The regular army at that
station was estimated at only four thou
sand five hundred men ; and though
Sir Henry Clinton might be able to rein
force it with five thousand or six thou
sand militia, yet it was believed he
could not maintain the post, without re
calling a considerable part of his troops
from the southward, and enfeebling the
operations of the British in that quar
ter ; in which case it was resolved to
make a vigorous attack on the point
which presented the best prospect of
success. In a letter to General Greene, dated
June 1st, 1781, Washington thus gives
the result of the conference with Ro
chambeau : —
" I have lately had an interview with
Count de Rochambeau, at Wethers

field. Our affairs were very attentively
considered in every point of view, and
it was finally determined to make an
attempt upon New York, with its pres
ent garrison, in preference to a southern
operation, as we had not the decided
command of the water. You will read
ily suppose the reasons which induced
this determination, were the inevitable
loss of men from so long a march, more
especially in the approaching hot sea
son, and the difficulty, I may say impos
sibility, of transporting the necessary
baggage, artillery, and stores, by land.
If I am supported as I ought to be by
the neighboring States, in this opera
tion, which, you know, has always been
their favorite one, I hope that one of
these consequences will follow : — either
that the enemy will be expelled from
the most valuable position which they
hold upon the continent, or be obliged
to recall part of their force from the
southward to defend it. Should the
latter happen, you will be most essen
tially relieved by it. The French troops
will begin their march this way as soon
as certain circumstances will admit. I
can only give you the outlines of our
plan. The dangers to which letters are
exposed, make it improper to commit to
paper the particulars ; but, as matters
ripen, I will keep you as well-informed
as circumstances will allow."
Washington immediately required the
States of New England to have six thou
sand militia in readiness to march wher
ever they might be called for ; and sent
an account of the conference at "Weth-

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

245

ersfield to Congress. His dispatch was
intercepted in the Jerseys and carried
to Clinton, who, alarmed by the plan
which it disclosed, made the requisition,
already mentioned, of part of the troops
under Cornwallis, and took diligent pre
cautions for maintaining his post against
the meditated attack.
Meanwhile the several States of the
Union were extremely dilatory in fur
nishing their contingents of troops, and
it was found difficult to procure subsist
ence for the small number of men al
ready in the field. The people and
their rulers talked loudly of liberty,
but each was anxious to sacrifice as lit
tle as possible to maintain it, and to de
volve on his neighbor the expense, dan
gers, and privations of the struggle.
In consequence of this dilatory spirit,
when the troops left their winter quar
ters, in the month of June, and encamp
ed at Peekskill, the army under Wash
ington did not amount to five thousand
men. This force was so much inferior
to what had been contemplated when
the plan of operations was agreed on
at Wethersfield, that it became doubt
ful whether it would be expedient
to adhere to that plan. But the defi
ciency of the American force was in
some measure compensated by the arri
val at Boston of a reinforcement of
fifteen hundred men to the army under
Rochambeau. The hope of terminating the war in
the course of the campaign, encouraged
the States to make some exertions.
Small as was their military force, it was
Vol. IL— 32

difficult to find subsistence for the
troops ; and even after the army had
taken- the field, there was reason to ap
prehend that it would be obliged to
abandon the objects of the campaign
for want of provisions. It was at that
critical juncture of American affairs,
that the finances of the Union were in
trusted to Robert Morris, a member of
Congress for Pennsylvania, a man of
considerable capital, and of much sa
gacity and mercantile enterprise. He,
as we have already seen, extensively
pledged his personal credit for articles
of the first necessity to the army ; and,
by an honorable fulfilment of his en
gagements, did much to restore public
credit and confidence. It was owing
mainly to his exertions, that the active
and decisive operations of the campaign
were not greatly impeded or entirely
defeated, by want of subsistence to the
army, and of the means of transporting
military stores.
By his plan of a national bank, al
ready referred to, Mr. Morris rendered
still more important service. Its notes
were to be received as cash into the
treasuries of the several States, and also
as an equivalent for the necessaries
which the States were bound to provide
for the army. In this way, and by a
liberal and judicious application of his
own resources, an individual afforded
the supplies which government was un
able to furnish.
The French troops under Rocham
beau marched from Newport and Bos
ton towards the Hudson. Both in quar-

246

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book TV.

ters and on the route their behavior was
exemplary, and gained the respect and
good-will of the inhabitants. Towards
the end of June Washington put his
army in motion ; and, learning that a
royal detachment had passed into the
Jerseys, he formed a plan to surprise
the British posts on the north end of
York Island; but it did not succeed,
and General Lincoln, who commanded
the Americans, being attacked by a
strong British party, a sharp conflict
ensued. Washington marched with his
main body to support his detachment ;
but on his advance the British retired
into their works at Kingsbridge. Ro
chambeau, then on his march to join
Washington, detached the Duke de
Lauzun with a body of men to support
the attack, who advanced with his
troops within supporting distance ; but
the British had retreated before they
could be brought into action.
Having failed in his design of surpris
ing the British posts, Washington with
drew to Valentine's Hill, and afterwards
to Dobb's Ferry. While encamped
there, on the 6th of July, the van of
the long-expected French reinforce
ments under Rochambeau was seen
winding down the neighboring heights.
The arrival of these friendly strangers
elevated the minds of the Americans,
who received them with sincere con
gratulations. Washington labored, by
personal attentions, to conciliate the
good-will of his allies, and used all the
means in his power to prevent those
mutual jealousies and irritations which

frequently prevail between troops ot
different nations serving in the same
army. An attack on New York was
still meditated, and every exertion made
to prepare for its execution ; but with
the determination, if it should prove im-
impracticable, vigorously to prosecute
some more attainable object.*
On the evening of the 21st of July,
the greater part of the American, and
part of the French troops, left their
encampment, and marching rapidly dur
ing the night, appeared in order of
battle before the British works at Kings-
bridge, at four next morning. Wash
ington and Rochambeau, with the gen
eral officers and engineers, viewed the
British lines in their whole extent, from
right to left, and the same was again
done next morning. But, on the after
noon of the 23d, they returned to their
former encampment, without having
made any attempt on the British works.
At that time the new levies arrived
slowly in the American camp ; and
c Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal, has an en
try : — ' ' July 7th. Our army was drawn up in a line and
reviewed by General Rochambeau, with his Excellency,
General Washington, and other general officers. — July
10th. Another review took place in presence of the
French ambassador, from Philadelphia, after which the
French army passed a review in presence of the general
officers of both armies." Speaking of the French army,
Dr. Thacher says : — "In the officers we recognize the ac
complished gentlemen, free and affable in their manners.
Their military dress and side-arms are elegant. The
troops are under the strictest discipline, and are amply
provided with arms and accoutrements, which are kept
in the neatest order. They are in complete uniform-
coats of white broadcloth, trimmed with green, and white
under-dress, and on their heads they wear a singular
kind of hat or chapeau. It is unlike our cocked hats, in
having hut two corners instead of three, which gives
them a very novel appearance. ' '

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

247

many of those who were sent were mere
boys, utterly unfit for active service.
The several States discovered much
backwardness in complying with the
requisitions of Congress, so that there
was reason to apprehend that the num
ber of troops necessary for besieging
New York could not be procured. This
made Washington turn his thoughts
more seriously to the southward than
he had hitherto done ; but all his move
ments confirmed Clinton in the belief
that an attack on New York was in
contemplation. As the British com
mander-in-chief, however, at that time
received about three thousand troops
from Europe, he thought himself able
to defend his post, without withdraw
ing any part of the force from Virginia.
Therefore he countermanded the requi
sition which he had before sent to Corn
wallis for part of the troops under his
command. The troops were embarked
before the arrival of the counter order ;
and of their embarkation Lafayette sent
notice to Washington. On the recep
tion of new instructions, however, as
formerly mentioned, they were re-land
ed, and remained in Virginia.
No great operation could be under
taken against the British armies, so long
as their navy had undisputed command
of the coast and of the great navigable
rivers. Washington, as we have seen,
had already, through Colonel Laurens,
made an earnest application to the court
of France for such a fleet as might be
capable of keeping in check the Brit
ish navy in those seas, and of afford

ing effectual assistance to the land
forces. That application was not unsuc
cessful ; and towards the middle of the
month of August, the agreeable infor
mation was received of the approach of
a powerful French fleet to the American
coast. Early in March the Count de Grasse
had sailed from Brest with twenty-five
ships of the line, five of which were des
tined for the East, and twenty for the
West Indies. After an indecisive en
counter in the Straits of St. Lucie, with
Sir Samuel Hood, whom Sir George
Rodney, the British Admiral in the
West Indies, had detached to intercept
him, Count de Grasse formed a junction
with the ships of his sovereign on that
station, and had a fleet superior to that
of the British in the West Indies. De
Grasse gave the Americans notice that
he would visit their coast in the month
of August, and take his station in Ches
apeake Bay ; but that his continuance
there could only be of short duration.
This dispatch at once determined Wash
ington's resolution with respect to the
main point of attack ; and, as it was
necessary that the projected operation
should be accomplished within a very
limited time, prompt decision and inde
fatigable exertion were -indispensable.
Though it was now finally resolved that
Virginia should be the grand scene of
action, yet it was prudent to conceal
till the last moment this determination
from Sir Henry Clinton, and still to
maintain the appearance of threatening
New York.

248

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

The defence of the strong posts on
the Hudson or North River was intrust
ed to General Heath, who was instructed
to protect the adjacent country as far as
he was able ; and for that purpose a
respectable force was put under his
command. Every preparation of which
circumstances admitted was made to
facilitate the march to the south
ward. Washington was to take the
command of the expedition, and to em
ploy in it all the French troops, and a
strong detachment of the American
army. On the 19th of August a considera
ble corps was ordered to cross the Hud
son at Dobbs' Ferry, and to take a
position between Springfield and Chat
ham, where they were directed to cover
some bakehouses, which it was rumored
were to be immediately constructed in
the vicinity of those places, in order to
encourage the belief that there the
troops intended to establish a perma
nent post. On the 20th and 21st the
main body of the Americans passed the
river at King's Ferry ; but the French
made a longer circuit, and did not com
plete the passage till the 25th. De
sirous of concealing his object as long
as possible, Washington continued his
march some -time in such a direction as
still to keep up the appearance of threat
ening New York. When concealment
was no longer practicable, he marched
southward with the utmost celerity.
His movements had been of such a
doubtful nature, that Sir Henry Clin
ton, it is said, was not fully convinced of

his real destination till he had crossed
the Delaware.
Great exertions had been made to
procure funds for putting the army in
motion ; but, after exhausting every
other resource, Washington was obliged
to have recourse to Rochambeau for a
supply of cash, which he received.*
On the 2d and 3d of September, the
combined American and French armies
passed through Philadelphia, where they
were received with ringing of bells,
firing of guns, bonfires, illuminations,
and every demonstration of joy. Mean
while Count de Grasse, with three thou
sand troops on board sailed from Cape
Francois with a valuable fleet of mer
chantmen which he conducted out of
danger, and then steered for- Chesapeake
Bay with twenty-eight sail of the line
and several frigates. Towards the end
of August he cast anchor just within
the capes, extending across from Cape
Henry to the middle ground. There
an officer from Lafayette waited on
the count, and gave him full informa
tion concerning the posture of affairs in
Virginia, and the intended plan of oper
ations against the British army in that
State. Cornwallis was diligently fortifying
himself at York and Gloucester. La

's The amount was twenty thousand dollars, in specie,
to be refunded by Robert Morris on the first of October.
On the 31st of August, Dr. Thacher says :— " Colonel
Laurens arrived at headquarters, camp, Trenton, on his
way from Boston to Philadelphia. He brought two and
a half millions of livres in cash, a part of the French
subsidy, — a most seasonable supply, as the troops were
discontented and almost mutinous for want of pay.

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

!4y

fayette was in a position on James River
to prevent his escape into North Caro
lina, and the combined army was hast
ening southward to attack him. In
order to co-operate against Cornwallis,
De Grasse detached four ships of the
line and some frigates to block up the
entrance of York River, and to carry
the land forces which he had brought
with him, under the Marquis de St.
Simon, to Lafayette's camp. The rest
of his fleet remained at the entrance of
the bay.
Sir George Rodney, who commanded
the British fleet in the West Indies, was
not ignorant that the count intended to
sail for America ; but, knowing that the
merchant vessels which he convoyed
from Cape Francois were loaded with
valuable cargoes, the British admiral
believed that he would send the greater
part of his fleet along with them to
Europe, and would visit the American
coast with a small squadron only. Ac
cordingly, Rodney detached Sir Samuel
Hood with fourteen sail of the line to
America, as a sufficient force to counter
act the operations of the French in that
quarter. Admiral Hood reached the
Capes of Virginia on the 25th of Au
gust, a few days before De Grasse en
tered the bay ; and, finding no enemy
there, sailed for Sandy Hook, where he
arrived on the 28th of August.
Admiral Graves, who had succeeded
Admiral Arbuthnot in the command of
the British fleet on the American sta
tion, was then lying at New York with
seven sail of the line ; but two of his

ships had been damaged in a cruise near
Boston, and were under repair. At the
same time that Admiral Hood gave in
formation of the expected arrival of De
Grasse on the American coast, notice
was received of the sailing of De Barras
with his fleet from Newport. Admiral
Graves, therefore, without waiting for
his two ships which were under repair,
put to sea on the 31st of August, with
nineteen sail of the line, and steered to
the southward.
On reaching the capes of the Chesa
peake, early on the morning of the 5th
of September, he discovered the French
fleet, consisting of twenty-four ships of
the line, lying at anchor in the entrance
of the bay. Neither admiral had any
previous knowledge of the vicinity of
the other till the fleets were actually
seen. The British stretched into the
bay ; and soon as Count de Grasse as
certained their hostile character, he
ordered his ships to slip their cables,
form the line as they could come up,
without regard to their specified sta
tions, and put to sea. The British fleet
entering the bay, and the French leav
ing it, they were necessarily sailing in
different directions ; but Admiral Graves
put his ships on the same tack with the
French, and, about four in the after
noon, a battle began between the van
and centre of the fleets, which continued
till night. Both sustained considerable
damage. The fleets continued in sight
of each other for five days; but De
Grasse's object was not to fight un
less to cover Chesapeake Bay ; and Ad-

250

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

miral Graves, owing to the inferiority
of his force and the crippled state of
several of his ships, was unable to com
pel him to renew the engagement.
On the 10th, De Grasse bore away
for the Chesapeake, and anchored with
in the capes next day, when he had the
satisfaction to find that Admiral de Bar
ras, with his fleet from Newport, and
fourteen transports, laden with heavy
artillery and other military stores for
carrying on a siege, had safely arrived
during his absence. That officer sailed
from Newport on the 25th of August,
and, making a long circuit to avoid the
British, entered the bay while the con
tending fleets were at sea. Admiral
Graves followed the French fleet to the
Chesapeake ; but, on arriving there, he
found the entrance guarded by a force
with which he was unable to contend.
He then sailed for New York, and left
De Grasse in the undisputed possession
of the bay.
While these naval operations were
going on, the land forces were not less
actively employed in the prosecution of
their respective purposes. The imme
diate aim of Washington was to over
whelm Cornwallis and his army at York-
town ; that of Clinton, to rescue him
from his grasp. As soon as Clinton was
convinced of Washington's intention of
proceeding to the southward, with a view
to bring him back, he employed the in
famous traitor Arnold, with a sufficient
naval and military force, on an expedi
tion against New London. The " parri
cide," as Jefferson calls him, had not the

slightest objection to fill his pockets
with the plunder of his native State.
He passed from Long Island, and on the
forenoon of the 6th of September land
ed his troops on both sides of the har
bor; those on the New London side
being under his own immediate orders,
and those on the Groton side command
ed by Lieutenant-colonel Eyre. As the
works at New London were very im
perfect, no vigorous resistance was there
made, and the place was taken posses
sion of with little loss. But Fort Gris-
wold, on the Groton side, was in a more
finished state, and the small garrison
made a desperate defence. The British
entered the fort at the point of the
bayonet. Colonel William Ledyard, brother of
the celebrated traveller, commanded
the fort. Colonel Eyre and Major
Montgomery having fallen in the as
sault, the command had devolved on
Major Bromfield, a New Jersey tory.
After the works had been carried, Led
yard ordered his men to lay down their
arms. Bromfield called out, "Who com
mands in this fort ?" Ledyard advanced,
and presenting his sword, replied, " I
did, but you do now." Bromfield seized
the sword and ran Ledyard through
the body. This was the signal for an
indiscriminate massacre of a greater
part of the garrison by the tories, refu
gees, and Hessians, of which the army
of Arnold was very appropriately com
posed. Seventy were killed, and thirty-
five desperately wounded. The enemy
lost two officers and forty-six men killed,

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

251

eight officers and one hundred and thir
ty-five soldiers wounded.* Few Ameri
cans had fallen before the British enter
ed the works.
The loss sustained by the Americans
at New London was great; but that
predatory incursion had no effect in
diverting Washington from his purpose,
or in retarding his march southward.
From Philadelphia the allied armies
pursued their route, partly to the head
of Elk River, which falls into the north
ern extremity of Chesapeake Bay, and
partly to Baltimore, at which places
they embarked on board transports fur
nished by the French fleet, and the last
division of them landed at Williams
burgh on the 25th of September. Wash
ington, Rochambeau, and their attend-
ants, proceeded to the same place by
land, and reached it ten days before the
troops. Virginia had suffered extreme
ly in the course of the campaign : the
inhabitants were clamorous for the ap
pearance of Washington in his native
State, and hailed his arrival with ac
clamations of joy.
Washington and Rochambeau imme
diately repaired on board De Grasse's
ship, in order to concert a joint plan
of operations against Cornwallis. De
Grasse, convinced that every exertion
would be made to relieve his lordship,
and being told that Admiral Digby had
arrived at New York with a reinforce
ment of six ships of the line, expected
to be attacked by a force little inferior
* See the Document at the end of this chapter.

to his own ; and deeming the station
which he then occupied unfavorable to
a naval engagement, he was strongly in
clined to leave the bay, and to meet
the enemy in the open sea. Washing
ton, fully aware of all the casualties
which might occur to prevent his re
turn, and to defeat the previous arrange
ments, used every argument to dissuade
the French admiral from his purpose,
and prevailed with him to remain in
the bay.
As De Grasse could continue only a
short time on that station, every exertion
was made to proceed against Cornwallis
at Yorktown. Opposite Yorktown is
Gloucester Point, which projects con
siderably into the river, the breadth of
which at that place does not exceed a
mile. Cornwallis had taken possession
of both these places, and diligently forti
fied them. The communication between
them was commanded by his batteries,
and by some ships of war which lay in
the river under cover of his guns. The
main body of his army was encamped
near Yorktown, beyond some outer re
doubts and field-works calculated to
retard the approach of an enemy. Col
onel Tarleton, with six or seven hundred
men, occupied Gloucester Point.
The combined army, amounting to
upwards of eleven thousand men, ex
clusive of the Virginia militia, under the
command of the patriotic Governor
Nelson, was assembled in the vicinity of
Williamsburgh, and on the morning of
the 28th of September marched by dif
ferent routes towards Yorktown. About

252

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

midday the heads of the columns reach
ed the grounds assigned them ; and, after
driving in the outposts and some caval
ry, encamped for the night. The next
day was employed in viewing the Brit
ish works and in arranging the plan of
attack. At the same time that the com
bined army encamped before Yorktown,
the French fleet anchored at the mouth
of the river, and completely prevented
the British from escaping by water, as
well as from receiving supplies or rein
forcements in that way. The legion of
Lauzun and a brigade of militia, amount
ing to upwards of four thousand men,
commanded by the French general De
Choise, were sent across the river, to
watch Gloucester Point, and to inclose
the British on that side.
On the 30th, Yorktown was invested.
The French troops formed the left wing
of the combined army, extending from
the river above the town to a morass in
front of it: the Americans composed
the right wing, and occupied the ground
between the morass and the river below
the town. Till the 6th of October, the
besieging army was assiduously employ
ed in disembarking its heavy artillery
and military stores, and in conveying
them to camp from the landing-place in
James River, a distance of six miles.
On the night of the 6th the first par
allel 'was begun, under the direction of
General Du Portail, the chief engineer,
six hundred yards from the British
works. The night was dark, rainy, and
well adapted for such a service ; and in
the course of it the besiegers did not

lose a man. Their operations seem not
to have been suspected by the besieged
till daylight disclosed them in the morn
ing, when the trenches were so far ad
vanced as in a good measure to cover
the workmen from the fire of the garri
son. By the afternoon of the 9th, the
batteries were completed, notwithstand
ing the most strenuous opposition from
the besieged, and immediately opened
on the town. From that time an inces
sant cannonade was kept up ; and the
continual discharge of shot and shells
from twenty-four and eighteen pounders
and ten-inch mortars, damaged the un
finished works on the left of the town.
silenced the guns mounted on them, and
occasioned a considerable loss of men
Some of the shot and shells from the
batteries passed over the town, reached
the shipping in the harbor, and set on
fire the Charon of forty-four guns, and
three large transports, which were en
tirely consumed.
" From the bank of the river," sayr.
Dr. Thacher, " I had a fine view of this
splendid conflagration. The ships were
enwrapped in a torrent of fire, which,
spreading with vivid brightness among
the combustible rigging, and running
with amazing rapidity to the tops of
the several masts, while all around was
thunder and lightning from our numer
ous cannon and mortars, and in the
darkness of night presented one of the
most sublime and magnificent spectacles
that can be imagined. Some of our
shells, over-reaching the town, are seen
to fall into the river, and bursting, throw

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Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

253

up columns of water, like the spouting of
the monsters of the deep."
On the night of the 11th, the besieg
ers, laboring with indefatigable perse
verance, began their second parallel,
three hundred yards nearer the British
works than the first ; and the three suc
ceeding days were assiduously employed
in completing it. During that interval,
the fire of the garrison was more de
structive than at any other period of
the siege. The men in the trenches
were particularly annoyed by two re
doubts towards the left of the British
works, and about two hundred yards in
front of them. Of these it was necessary
to gain possession, and on the 14th prep
arations were made to carry them both
by storm. In order to avail himself of
the spirit of emulation which existed
between the troops of the two nations,
and to avoid any cause of jealousy to
either, Washington committed the at
tack of the one redoubt to the French,
and that of the other to the Americans.
The latter were commanded by Lafa
yette, attended by Colonel Alexander
Hamilton, who led the advance ; and
the former by the Baron de Viomenil.
On the evening of the 14th, as soon
as it was dark, the parties marched to
the assault with unloaded arms. The
redoubt which the Americans under
Lafayette attacked, was defended by a
major, some inferior officers, and forty-
five privates. The assailants advanced
with such rapidity, without returning a
shot to the heavy fire with which they
were received, that in a few minutes
Vol. II.— 33

they were in possession of the work,
having had eight men killed, and seven
officers and twenty-five men wounded
in the attack. Eight British privates
were killed ; Major Campbell, a cap
tain, an ensign, and seventeen privates
were made prisoners. The rest escaped.
Although the Americans were highly
exasperated by the recent massacre of
their countrymen in Fort Griswold by
Arnold's detachment, yet not a man of
the British was injured after resistance
ceased. Retaliation had been talked of,
but was not exercised.*
The French party advanced with equal
courage, but not with equal rapidity.
The American soldiers had removed the
abatis themselves. The French waited
for the sappers to remove them accord
ing to military rule. While thus wait
ing, a message was brought from Lafa
yette to Viomenil, informing him that he
was in his redoubt, and wished to know
where the baron was. " Tell the mar
quis," replied Viomenil, " that I am not

<* Lafayette (letter to Washington, 16th October, 1781),
says : "Tour Excellency having personally seen our dis
positions, I shall only give you an account of what passed
in the execution. Colonel Gimat's battalion led the van,
and was followed by that of Colonel Hamilton, who com
manded the whole advanced corps. At the same time a
party of eighty men, under Colonel Laurens, turned the
redoubt. I beg leave to refer your Excellency to the re
port I have received from Colonel Hamilton, whose well-
known talents and gallantry were, on this occasion, most
conspicuous and serviceable. Our obligations to him, to
Colonel Gimat, to Colonel Laurens, and to each and all
the officers and men, are above expression. Not one gun
was fired, and the ardor of the troops did not give timo
for the sappers to derange the abatis ; and owing to the
conduct of the commanders and the bravery of the men,
the redoubt was stormed with uncommon rapidity."

254

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

in mine, but will be in five minutes."
The abatis being removed, the redoubt
was carried in very nearly the time pre
scribed by the baron. There were one
hundred and twenty men in this re
doubt, of whom eighteen were killed,
and forty-two taken prisoners : the rest
made their escape. The French lost
nearly one hundred men killed or
wounded. During the night these two
redoubts were included in the second
parallel ; and, in the course of next day,
some howitzers were placed on them,
which, in the afternoon, opened on the
besieged. " During the assault," says
Dr. Thacher, "the British kept up an
incessant firing of cannon and musketry
from their whole line. His Excellency,
General Washington, generals Lincoln
and Knox, with their aids, having dis
mounted, were standing in an exposed
situation, waiting the result. Colonel
Cobb, one of Washington's aids, solicit
ous for his safety, said to his Excellency,
' Sir, you are too much exposed here ;
had you not better step a little back ?'
' Colonel Cobb,' replied his Excellency,
' if you are afraid, you have liberty to
step back.' "
Cornwallis and his garrison had done
all that brave men could do to defend
their post. But the industry of the be
siegers was persevering, and their ap
proaches rapid. The condition of the
British was becoming desperate.
In every quarter their works
were torn to pieces by the fire of the
assailants. The batteries already play
ing upon them had nearly silenced all

1781.

their guns, and the second parallel was
about to open on them, which in a few
hours would render the place unten
able. Owing to the weakness of his garri
son, occasioned by sickness and the fire
of the besiegers, Cornwallis could not
spare large sallying parties ; but in the
present distressing crisis, he resolved to
make every effort to impede the pro
gress of the besiegers, and to preserve
his post to the last extremity. For this
purpose, a little before daybreak on the
morning of the 16th of October, about
three hundred and fifty men, under the
command of Lieutenant-colonel Aber-
crombie, sallied out against two bat
teries, which seemed in the greatest
state of forwardness. They attacked
with great impetuosity ; killed or
wounded a considerable number of the
French troops who had charge of the
works, spiked eleven guns, and returned
with little loss. This exploit was of no
permanent advantage to the garrison,
for the guns, having been hastily spiked,
were soon again rendered fit for ser
vice. About four in the afternoon of the
16th of October, several batteries of the
second parallel opened on the garrison,
and it was obvious that, in the course of
next day, all the batteries of that par
allel, mounting a most formidable artil
lery, would be ready to play on the
town. The shattered works of the gar
rison were in no condition to sustain
such a tremendous fire. In the whole
front which was attacked the British

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

255

1T81.

could not show a single gun, and their
shells were nearly exhausted. In this
extremity, Cornwallis formed
the desperate resolution of
crossing the river during the night
with his effective force, and attempt
ing to escape to the northward. His
plan was to leave behind his sick,
baggage, and all incumbrances ; to
attack De Choise, who commanded
on the Gloucester side, with his whole
force ; to mount his own infantry, partly
with the hostile cavalry which he had
no doubt of seizing, and partly with
such horses as he might find by the
way ; to hasten towards the fords of
the great rivers in the upper country,
and then, turning northward, to pass
through Maryland, Pennsylvania, and
the Jerseys, and join the army at New
York. The plan was hazardous, and
presented little prospect of success ; but
in the forlorn circumstances of the gar
rison, any thing that offered a glimpse
of hope was reckoned preferable to the
humiliation of an immediate surrender.
In prosecution of this perilous enter
prise, the light infantry, most of the
guards, and a part of the twenty-third
regiment, embarked in boats, passed
the river, and landed at Gloucester
Point before midnight. A storm then
arose, which rendered the return of the
boats and the transportation of the rest
of the troops equally impracticable. In
that divided state of the British forces,
the morning of the l^th of October
dawned, when the batteries of the com
bined armies opened on the garrison at

Yorktown. As the attempt to escape
was entirely defeated by the storm, the
troops that had been carried to Glouces
ter Point were brought back in the
course of the forenoon, without much
loss, though the passage was exposed
to the artillery of the besiegers. The
British works were in ruins ; the garri
son was weakened by disease and death,
and exhausted by incessant fatigue.
Every ray of hope was extinguished.
It would have been madness any longer
to attempt to defend the post, and to
expose the brave garrison to the clan
ger of an assault, which would soon
have been made on the place.
At ten in the forenoon of the 11 th,
Cornwallis sent a flag of truce, with a
letter to Washington, proposing a ces
sation of hostilities for twenty-four
hours, in order to give time to adjust
terms for the surrender of the forts at
Yorktown and Gloucester Point. To
this letter Washington immediately re
turned an answer, expressing his ardent
desire to spare the further effusion of
blood, and his readiness to listen to
such terms as were admissible ; but
that he could not consent to lose time
in fruitless negotiations, and desired
that, previous to the meeting of com
missioners, his lordship's' proposals
should be transmitted in writing, for
which purpose a suspension of hostilities
for two hours should be granted.
The terms offered by Cornwallis,
although not all deemed admissible,
were such as induced the opinion that
no great difficulty would occur in ad-

256

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

justing the conditions of capitulation ;
and the suspension of hostilities was
continued through the night. Mean
while, in order to avoid the delay of
useless discussion, Washington drew up
and transmitted to Cornwallis such ar
ticles as he was willing to grant, in
forming his lordship that, if he approved
of them, commissioners might be imme
diately appointed to reduce them to
form. Accordingly, Viscount Noailles
and Lieutenant-colonel Laurens, whose
father was then a prisoner in the Tower
of London, on the 18th met Colonel
Dundas and Major Ross of the British
army at Moore's house, in the rear of
the first parallel. They prepared a
rough draft, but were unable defini
tively to arrange the terms of capitula
tion.* The draught was to be submit
ted to Cornwallis ; but Washington,
resolved to admit of no delay, directed
the articles to be transcribed ; and, on
the morning of the 19th, sent them to
his lordship, with a letter expressing
his expectation that they would be
signed by eleven, and that the garrison
would march out at two in the after-

(i The whole number of prisoners, exclusive of seamen,
was over seven thousand, and the British loss during the
siege was between five and six hundred. The army of
the allies consisted of seven thousand American regular
troops, upwards of five thousand French, and four thou
sand militia. The loss in killed and wounded was about
three hundred. The captured property consisted of a
large train of artillery — viz. , seventy-five brass and sixty-
nine iron cannon, howitzers, and mortars ; also a large
quantity of arms, ammunition, military stores, and pro
visions, fell to the Americans. One frigate, two ships of
twenty guns each, a number of transports and other ves
sels, and fifteen hundred seamen, were surrendered to
De Grasse.

noon. Finding that no better terms
could be obtained, Cornwallis submit
ted to a painful necessity, and, on the
19th of October, surrendered the posts
of Yorktown and Gloucester Point to
the combined armies of America and
France, on condition that his troops
should receive the same honors of war
which had been granted to the garrison
of Charleston, when it surrendered to
Sir Henry Clinton. The army, ar
tillery, arms, accoutrements, military
chest, and public stores of every de
scription, were surrendered to Wash
ington ; the ships in the harbor and the
seamen, to Count de Grasse.
Cornwallis wished to obtain permis
sion for his European troops to return
home, on condition of not serving
against America, France, or their allies
during the war, but this was refused;
and it was agreed that they should re
main prisoners of war in Virginia, Ma
ryland, and Pennsylvania, accompanied
by a due proportion of officers for their
protection and government. The Brit
ish general was also desirous of securing
from punishment such Americans as
had joined the royal standard ; but this
was refused, on the plea that it was a
point which belonged to the civil au
thority, and on which the military
power was not competent to decide.
But the end was gained in an indirect
way; for Cornwallis was permitted to
send the Bonetta sloop-of-war un-
searched to New York, with dispatches
to the commander-in-chief, and to put
on board as many soldiers as he thought

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

257

proper, to be accounted for in any sub
sequent exchange. This was under
stood to be a tacit permission to send
off the most obnoxious of the Ameri
cans, which was accordingly done.
The officers and soldiers were allowed
to retain their private property. Such
officers as were not required to remain
with the troops were permitted to re
turn to Europe, or to reside in any part
of America not in possession of the
British troops.
Dr. Thacher, who was present dur
ing the whole siege, thus describes the
surrender: "At about twelve o'clock
the combined army was arranged and
drawn up in two lines, extending more
than a mile in length. The Americans
were drawn up in a line on the right
side of the road, and the French occu
pied the left. At the head of the for
mer the great American commander,
mounted on his noble courser, took his
station, attended by his aids. At the
head of the latter was posted the excel
lent Count Rochambeau and his suite.
The French troops, in complete uni
form, displayed a noble and martial ap
pearance ; their band of music, of which
the timbrel formed a part, is a delight
ful novelty, and produced, while march
ing to the ground, a most enchanting
effect. The Americans, though all in
uniform, nor their dress so neat, yet
exhibited an erect soldierly air, and
every countenance beamed with satis
faction and joy. The concourse of spec
tators from the country was prodigious ;
in point of numbers nearly equal to the

military ; but universal silence and or
der prevailed. It was about two
o'clock when the captive army ad
vanced through the line formed for
their reception. Every eye was pre
pared to gaze on Lord Cornwallis, the
object of peculiar interest and solici
tude ; but he disappointed our anxious
expectations. Pretending indisposition,
he made General O'Hara his substitute
as the leader of his army. This officer
was followed by the conquered troops
in a slow and solemn step, with shoul
dered arms, colors cased, and drums
beating a British march. Having ar
rived at the head of the line, General
O'Hara, elegantly mounted, advanced
to his Excellency, the commander-in-
chief, taking off his hat, and apologizing
for the non-appearance of Earl Corn
wallis. With his usual dignity and po
liteness, his Excellency pointed to Ma
jor-general Lincoln for directions, by
whom the British army was conducted
into a spacious field, where it was in
tended they should ground their arms.
The royal troops, while marching
through the line formed by the allied
army, exhibited a decent and neat ap
pearance, as respects arms and clothing;
for their commander opened his store
and directed every soldier to be fur
nished with a new suit complete, prior
to the capitulation. But in their line
of march we remarked a disorderly and
unsoldierlike conduct; their step was
irregular and their ranks frequently
broken. But it was in the field, when
they came to the last act of the drama,

258

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

that the spirit and pride of the British
soldier was put to the severest test.
Here their mortification could not be
concealed. Some of the platoon officers
appeared to be exceedingly chagrined
when giving the word, " Ground
arms /" and I am a witness that they
performed this duty in a very unofficer-
like manner, and that many of the sol
diers manifested a sullen temper, throw
ing their arms on the pile with violence,
as if determined to render them useless.
This irregularity, however, was checked
by the authority of General Lincoln.
After having grounded their arms and
divested themselves of their accoutre
ments, the captive troops were con
ducted back to Yorktown, and guarded
by our troops until they could be con
ducted to the place of their destina
tion." Congress bestowed its thanks freely
and fully upon the commander-in-chief,
Count de Rochambeau, Count de
Grasse, and the various officers of the
different corps, and the brave soldiers
under their command. Two stands of
colors, trophies of war, were voted to
Washington, and two pieces of cannon
to Rochambeau and De Grasse ; and it
was also voted that a marble column to
commemorate the alliance and the vic
tory should be erected in Yorktown.
On the clay after the surrender, the
general orders closed as follows : " Di
vine service shall be performed to
morrow, in the different brigades and
divisions. The commander-in-chief re
commends that all the troops that are

not upon duty do assist at it with a se
rious deportment, and that sensibility of
heart which the recollection of the sur
prising and particular interposition of
Providence in our favor claims." A
proclamation was also issued by Con
gress, appointing the 13th of December
as a day of thanksgiving and prayer,
on account of this signal and manifest
favor of Divine Providence in behalf of
our country.
The news of Cornwallis's surrender
was received throughout the country
with the most tumultuous expressions
of joy. The worthy New England Pu
ritans considered it, as Cromwell did the
victory at Worcester, "the crowning
mercy." It promised them a return of
peace and prosperity. The people of
the Middle States regarded it as a
guarantee for their speedy deliverance
from the presence of a hated enemy.
But to the Southern States it was more
than this. It was the retributive jus
tice of Heaven against a band of cruel
and remorseless murderers and robbers,
who had spread desolation and sorrow
through their once happy homes. It is
asserted in Gordon's History of the
War, that wherever Cornwallis's army
marched, the dwelling-houses were
plundered of every thing that could be
carried off. The stables of Virginia
were plundered of the horses on which
his cavalry rode in their ravaging
march through that State. Millions of
property, in tobacco and other mer
chandise, and in private houses and
public buildings, were destroyed by

Chap. XXIII.]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

259

Arnold, Philips, and Cornwallis, in Vir
ginia alone. The very horse which
Tarleton had the impudence to ride on
the day of the surrender, was stolen
from a planter's stable, who recognized
it on the field, and compelled Tarleton
to give it up and mount a sorry hack
for the occasion.
It was computed at the time that
one thousand four hundred widows
were made by the war in the single
district of Ninety-Six. The whole de
vastation occasioned by the British
army, during six months previous to
the surrender at Yorktown, amounted
to not less than three millions sterling ;
an immense loss for so short a time,
falling as it did chiefly on the rural
. population. No wonder that they as
sembled in crowds to witness the hu
miliation of Cornwallis and his army.
To them it was not only a triumph, but
a great deliverance. Well might the
Virginians triumph. The return of
their favorite commander, a son of the
soil, had speedily released their State
from ravage and destruction, and re
stored them to comparative peace and
repose. On the very day of Cornwallis's
surrender, Clinton sailed from New
York with reinforcements. He had
been perfectly aware of Cornwallis's
extreme peril, and was anxious to re
lieve him ; but the fleet had sustained
considerable damage in the battle with
De Grasse, and some time was neces
sarily spent in repairing it. During
that interval, four ships of the line

Oct.
1781.

arrived from Europe ' and two from the
West Indies. At length Clinton em
barked with seven thousand of his best
troops, but was unable to sail from
Sandy Hook till the 19th, the day on
which Cornwallis surrendered. The
fleet, consisting of twenty-five ships of
the line, two vessels of fifty guns each,
and eight frigates, arrived off
the Chesapeake on the 24th,
when Clinton had the mortifica
tion to be informed of the event of the
19th. He remained on the coast, how
ever, till the 29th, when, every doubt
being removed concerning the capitula
tion of Cornwallis, whose relief was the
sole object of the expedition, he re
turned to New York.
While Clinton continued off the
Chesapeake, the French fleet, consisting
of thirty-six sail of the line, satisfied
with the advantage already gained, lay
at anchor in the bay without making
any movement whatever.
Washington considering the present
a favorable opportunity for following
up his success by an expedition against
the British army in Charleston, wrote a
letter to Count de Grasse on the day
after the capitulation, requesting him
to unite his fleet to the proposed arma
ment, and assist in the expedition. He
even went on board the admiral's fleet
to thank him for his late services in the
siege, and to urge upon him the feasi
bility and importance of this plan of
operations. But the orders of his
court, ulterior projects, and his engage
ments with the Spaniards, put it out of

260

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

the power of the French admiral to
continue so long in America as was re
quired. He, however, remained some
days in the bay, in order to cover the
embarkation of the troops and of the
ordnance to be conveyed by water to
the head of the Elk* Some brigades
proceeded by land to join their com
panions at that place. Some cavalry
marched to join General Greene ; but
the French troops, under Count Ro
chambeau, remained in Virginia, to be
in readiness to march to the South or
North, as the circumstances of the next
campaign might require. On the 27th
the troops of St. Simon began to em
bark, in order to return to the West
Indies ; and early in November Count
de Grasse sailed for that quarter.
Part of the prisoners were sent to
Winchester in Virginia, and Frederick-
town, Maryland ; the remainder to
Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Lord Corn
wallis and the principal officers were
paroled, and sailed for New York.
During their stay at Yorktown, after
the surrender, they received the most
delicate attentions from the conquerors.
Dr. Thacher, in his Military Journal,
notices particularly some of these atten
tions : " Lord Cornwallis and his offi
cers," he says, " since their capitulation,
have received all the civilities and hos
pitality which is in the power of their
conquerors to bestow. General Wash
ington, Count Rochambeau, and other
« On his departure, the Count de Grasse received from
Washington a present of two elegant horses as a token of
his friendship and esteem.

general officers have frequently invited
them to entertainments, and they have
expressed their grateful acknowledg
ments in return. They cannot avoid
feeling the striking contrast between
the treatment which they now expe
rience, and that which they have be
stowed on our prisoners who have un
fortunately fallen into their hands. It
is a dictate of humanity and benevo
lence, after sheathing the sword, to re
lieve and meliorate the condition of the
vanquished prisoner.
" On one occasion, while in the pres
ence of General Washington, Lord
Cornwallis was standing with his head
uncovered. His Excellency said to
him, politely, 'My lord, you had bet
ter be covered from the cold.' His
lordship, applying his hand to his
head, replied, ' It matters not, sir, what
becomes of this head now.' "
The reader will not have failed to
notice that the capture of Cornwallis
was effected solely by the able and ju
dicious strategy of Washington. It
was he that collected from different
parts of the country the forces that
were necessary to inclose that command
er and his hitherto victorious army as
it were in a net, from which there was
no possibility of escape. It was he
who, by personal influence and exer
tion, brought De Grasse to renounce his
expected triumphs at sea and zealously
assist in the siege, by preventing Corn
wallis from receiving any aid from
British naval forces. It was he who
detained De Grasse at a critical mo-

Chap. XXHL]

WASHINGTON CAPTURES CORNWALLIS.

261

ment of the siege, when he was anxious
to go off with the chief part of his force
and engage the British at sea. In
short, it was he who provided all, over
saw all, directed all, and having by
prudence and forethought, as well as
by activity and perseverance, brought
all the elements of conquest together,
combined them into one mighty effort
with glorious success. It was the sec
ond siege on a grand scale which had
been brought to a brilliant and fortu

nate conclusion by the wisdom and
prudence, as well as the courage and
perseverance, of Washington. In the
first he expelled the enemy and recov
ered Boston uninjured, freeing the soil
for a time from the presence of the
enemy. In the second, he captured the
most renowned and successful British
army in America, and dictated his own
terms of surrender to a commander
who, from his marquee, had recently
given law to three States of the Union.

Vol. II.— 34

DOCUMENT ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XXIII.

COLONEL LEDTAED.
William Ledyakd was a brave officer in the
army of the Revolution, and was basely mur
dered by the British troops, commanded by the
traitor Arnold, after he had surrendered. We
have collected from various publications the
following particulars of this most atrocious
transaction. General Arnold was appointed to conduct an
expedition against New London, Connecticut,
his native place. The embarkation having
passed over from Long Island shore in the
night, the troops were landed in two detach
ments on each side of the harbor, at ten o'clock
in the morning of the 6th of September, — that
on the Groton side being commanded by Lieu
tenant-colonel Eyre, and that on the New Lon
don side by General Arnold, who met with no
great trouble. Fort Trumbull and the redoubt,
which were intended to cover the harbor and
town, not being tenable, were evacuated as he
approached, and the few men in them crossed
the river to Fort Griswold, on Groton Hill.
Arnold proceeded to the town without being
otherwise opposed than by the scattered fire of
small parties, that had hastily collected. Orders
were sent by the general to Eyre for attacking
Fort Griswold, that so the possession of it might
prevent the escape of the American shipping.
The militia, to the amount of one hundred and
fifty-seven, collected for its defence, but so
hastily as not to be fully furnished with fire
arms and other weapons. As the assailants
approached, a firing commenced, and the flag
staff was soon shot down, from whence the
neighboring spectators inferred that the place
had surrendered, till the continuance of the

firing convinced them to the contrary. The
garrison defended themselves with great reso
lution and bravery ; Eyre was wounded near
the works, and Major Montgomery was killed
immediately after, so that the command de
volved on Major Bromfield. The British at
one time staggered ; but the fort, being out of
repair, could not be maintained by a handful of
men against so superior a number as that which
assaulted it. After an action of about forty
minutes, the resolution of the royal troops car
ried the place at the point of the bayonet. The
Americans had not more than half a dozen
killed before the enemy entered the fort, when
a severe execution took place, though resistance
had ceased.
The British officer inquired, on his enter
ing the fort, who commanded. Colonel Led
yard answered, " I did, sir, but you do now ;"
and presented to him his sword. The colo
nel was immediately run through and killed.
The slain were seventy-three, the wounded be
tween thirty and forty, and about forty were
carried off prisoners.
Soon after the reduction of the fort, the Brit
ish soldiers loaded a wagon with the wounded,
it is said, by order of their officers, and set
the wagon off from the top of the hill, which
is long and very steep : the wagon went a con
siderable distance with great force, till it was
suddenly stopped by an apple-tree, which gave
the faint and bleeding men so terrible a shock
that some of them died instantly. About fifteen
vessels, with effects of the inhabitants, retreated
up the river, notwithstanding the reduction of
the fort, and four others remained in the harbor
unhurt ; a number were burnt by the fire com
municating from the stores when in flames.

Chap. XXIII.]

DOCUMENT.

263

Sixty dwelling-houses and eighty-four stores
were burned, including those on both sides of
the harbor and in New London. The burning
of the town was intentional, and not accidental.
The loss that the Americans sustained in this
destruction was very great; for there were
large quantities of naval stores, of European
goods, of East and West India commodities,
and of provisions in the several stores. The
British had two commissioned officers and forty
privates killed ; eight officers, with one hundred
and thirty-five non-commissioned and privates,
wounded. The following is inscribed on a head-stone at

the grave of Colonel Ledyard, half a mile south
east of Fort Griswold, or Groton, Connecticut :
SACRED TO THE MEMORY
or
WILLIAM LEDYAKD, Esq.,
Colonel commandant of the garrisoned posts of New
London and Groton, who, after a gallant defence, was,
with a large part of the brave garrison, inhumanly mas
sacred hy British troops in Fort Griswold, September 6th,
1781, ajtat, suae 43. By a judicious and faithful discharge
of the various duties of his station, he rendered most es
sential services to his country, and stood confessed the
unshaken patriot and intrepid hero. He lived the pat
tern of magnanimity, courtesy, and humanity : he fell
the victim of ungenerous rage and :ruelty.

CHAPTER XXIV.
1782-1783.

CLOSE OF THE WAE.
Washington superintends the distribution of the troops, ordnance, and stores at Yorktown.— Goes to Eltham.—
Death of John Parke Custis. — Washington goes to Mount Vernon.— Writes to Lafayette.— Honors paid to La
fayette by Congress. — He sails for France. — Washington's reception at Alexandria and Annapolis. — He writes to
Greene. — His determination to prosecute the war vigorously.— His reception at Philadelphia. — His transactions
with Congress and with the heads of departments, and the French ambassador and officers. — Great Britain re
ported to be still disposed for war. — Exertions of Washington to obtain means for sustaining the next campaign.—
Exertions of Robert Morris to sustain the finances. — Conway's motion for discontinuing the war carried in Par
liament. — News of this movement alarms Washington. — His remarks in a circular to the Governors. — Barney's
victory at the Capes.— Washington goes to Newburg.— Affair of Captain Asgill.— Discontent in the army. — Wash
ington receives a letter from Colonel Nicola, suggesting a monarchy.— He declines the offer of a crown.— Sir Guy
Carleton takes the command in New York.— His letter to Washington.— His overtures disregarded.— Intrigues
of the British Government with the allies.— Letter from Carleton and Digby.— Operations in the South.— Georgia
recovered.  Skirmishes near Charleston.— Death of Colonel Laurens. — Evacuation of Charleston. — Operations in
the West Indies.— Rodney defeats and captures De Grasse.— Proposal to reduce the army.— Washington's views
on that subject.— The French troops leave the country.— The Americans go into winter-quarters. — The officers
petition Congress. — No satisfaction given. — The Newburg addresses. — The crisis. — Washington defeats the anony
mous writer. — His address to the officers. — Affecting incident.— Washington's letter to Congress, claiming justice
to the officers. — Its success. — Mutiny in Pennsylvania quelled. — Washington addresses a circular to the Govern
ors of all the States. — Carleton commences sending off royalists and British from New York.— Confers with
Washington. — Washington recommends to Congress a regular militia system. — Evacuation of New York and
entry of Washington and Governor Clinton with the civil and military officers. — Washington takes leave of the
officers of the army.— Washington resigns his commission to Congress.— Description of the scene.— Washington' s
Address.— The President's reply.— Washington retires to Mount Vernon.

After the surrender of Cornwallis,
the combined forces were distributed in
different parts of the country, in the
manner we have described at the close
of the last chapter. Having personally
superintended the distribution of the
ordnance and stores, and the departure
of the prisoners as well as the embarka
tion of the troops, who were to go
northward under General Lincoln,
Washington left Yorktown on the 5th

of November for Eltham, the seat of
his friend, Colonel Basset. He arrived
there the same day, but he came to a
house of mourning. His stepson, John
Parke Custis, was just expiring when
he reached the house. Washington
was just in time to be present, with
Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Custis, her
daughter-in-law, at the last painful mo
ment of the young man's departure to
the world of spirits. Mr. Custis had

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

265

been an object of peculiar affection and
care to Washington, who had superin
tended his education and introduction
to pubhc life. He had entered King's
College, in New York, in 11 1 3, but soon
after left that institution and married
the daughter of Mr. Benedict Calvert,
February 3d, HIL He had passed
the winter of 1115 at head-quarters, in
Cambridge, with his wife and Mrs.
Washington. He had subsequently
been elected a member of the House of
Burgesses of Virginia, in which office
he acquitted himself with honor; and
he was now cut off on the very thresh
old of life, being only twenty-eight
years of age at the time of his decease.
He left a widow and four young chil
dren. The two youngest of these chil
dren, one less than two and the other
four years old, were adopted by Wash
ington, and thenceforward formed a
part of his immediate family. During
the last year of Mr. Custis's life, Wash
ington, writing to General Greene, took
occasion to cite a passage from his cor
respondence. He says, " I have re
ceived a letter from Mr. Custis, dated
the 29th ultimo (March, 1781), in
which are these words : ' General
Greene has by his conduct gained uni
versal esteem, and possesses, in the full
est degree, the confidence of all ranks
of people.' " He had just then returned
from the Assembly at Richmond.
Washington remained for several
clays at Eltham to comfort the family
in their severe affliction, and then pro
ceeded to Mount Vernon, where he ar-

1781.

rived on the 13th of November. From
this home of his early affections he
wrote to Lafayette on the 15th,
accounting for his not having
joined him in Philadelphia, by the
pressure of private and public duties.
In this letter, ever attentive to the in
terest of his country, Washington ex
presses his views with respect to the
next campaign ; and as Lafayette, after
the expedition with De Grasse to the
South was abandoned, had determined
to pass the winter in France, Washing
ton takes occasion in this letter to im
press upon his mind the absolute neces
sity of a strong naval force in order to
conduct the next campaign to a success
ful termination. In concluding his let
ter, Washington says : "KI should be
deprived of the pleasure of a personal
interview with you before your depart
ure, permit me to adopt this method
of making you a tender of my ardent
vows for a prosperous voyage, a gra
cious reception from your prince, an
honorable reward for your services, a
happy meeting with your lady and
friends, and a safe return in the spring
to, my dear marquis, your affectionate
friend, &c. — Washington."
Washington had given Lafayette
leave to proceed to Philadelphia, where
he obtained from Congress permission
to visit his family in France, for such a
period as he should think proper.
Congress at the saiue time passed reso
lutions doing justice to the zeal and
military conduct of Lafayette. Among
them were the following :

266

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

"Resolved, that the secretary of
foreign affairs acquaint the ministers
plenipotentiary of the United States,
that it is the desire of Congress that
they confer with the Marquis de La
fayette, and avail themselves of his in
formation relative to the affairs of the
United States.
" Resolved, that the secretary of
foreign affairs further acquaint the
minister plenipotentiary at the court
of Versailles, that he will conform to
the intention of Congress by consulting
with and employing the assistance of
the Marquis de Lafayette in accelera
ting the supplies which may be afforded
by his most Christian majesty for the
use of the United States."
Lafayette was also commended by
Congress to the notice of Louis XVI. in
very warm terms. Having received his
instructions from Congress and comple
ted his preparations, he went to Boston,
where the American frigate Alliance
awaited his arrival. His farewell letter
to Congress is dated on board this ves
sel, December 23d, 1781, and immedi
ately after writing it he set sail for his
native country.
Before proceeding to Philadelphia
Washington visited Alexandria, where
he was honored with a public reception
and an address from a committee of the
citizens; in replying to which he was
careful to remind them, when referring
to the late success at Yorktown, that
" a vigorous prosecution of this success
would, in all probability," procure peace,
liberty, and independence. He also vis

ited Annapolis, where the legislature
was in session. A vote of thanks was
passed by that body (22d November,
1781) ; and in replying to it, Washing
ton also reminded the legislators of
Maryland that the war was by no means
finished, and that further exertions were
required to be made by the States.
The splendid success of the allied
arms in Virginia, and the great advan
tages obtained still further South, pro
duced no disposition in Wash-
r . 1T82.
ington to relax those exertions
which might yet be necessary to secure
the great object of the contest. "I
shall attempt to stimulate Congress,"
said he in a letter to General Greene,
written at Mount Vernon, " to the best
improvement of our late success, by tak
ing the most vigorous and effectual
measures to be ready for an early and
decisive campaign the next year. My
greatest fear is, that viewing this stroke
in a point of light which may too much
magnify its importance, they may think
our work too nearly closed, and fall in
to a state of languor and relaxation.
To prevent this error I shall employ
every means in my power, and, if un
happily we sink into this fatal mistake,
no part of the blame shall be mine."
On the 27th of November Washing
ton reached Philadelphia, and Congress
passed a resolution granting him an au
dience on the succeeding day. On his
appearance the president addressed him
in a short speech, informing him that a
committee was appointed to state the
requisitions to be made for the proper

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Chap. XXIV.J

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

267

establishment of the army, and express
ing the expectation that he would re
main in Philadelphia, in order to aid the
consultations on that important subject.
The secretary of war, the financier,
Robert Morris, and the secretary of
foreign affairs, Robert R. Livingston,
assisted at these deliberations, and the
business was concluded with unusual
celerity. A revenue was scarcely less necessary
than an army ; and it was obvious that
the means for carrying on the war must
be obtained, either by impressment, or
by a vigorous course of taxation. But
both these alternatives depended on
the States ; and the government of the
Union resorted to the influence of Wash
ington in aid of its requisitions.
But no exertions on the part of Amer
ica alone could expel the invading army.
A superiority at sea was indispensable to
the success of offensive operations against
the posts which the British still held
within the United States. To obtain
this superiority, Washington pressed its
importance on the Chevalier de la Lu
zerne, the minister of France, and com
manding officers of the French troops,
as he had on Lafayette when he was
about to return to his native country.
The first intelligence from Europe
was far from being conciliatory. The
parliament of Great Britain reassembled
in November. The speech from the
throne breathed a settled purpose to
continue the war; and the addresses
from both houses, which were carried by
large majorities, echoed the sentiment.

In the course of the animated debates
which these addresses occasioned, an in
tention was indeed avowed by some
members of the administration to direct
the whole force of the nation against
France and Spain ; and to suspend offen
sive operations in the interior of the
United States until the strength of
those powers should be broken. In the
mean time the posts then occupied by
their troops were to be maintained.
This development of the views of the
administration furnished additional mo
tives to the American government for
exerting all the faculties of the nation
to expel the British garrisons from New
York and Charleston. The efforts of
Washington to produce these exertions
were earnest and unremitting, but not
successful. The State legislatures de
clared the inability of their constituents
to pay taxes. Instead of filling the con
tinental treasury, some were devising
means to draw money from it ; and
some of those which passed bills impos
ing heavy taxes, directed that the de
mands of the State should be first satis
fied, and that the residue only should
be paid to the continental receiver. By
the unwearied attention and judicious
arrangements of Robert Morris, the
minister of finance, the expenses of the
nation had been greatly reduced. The
bank established in Philadelphia, and
his own high character, had enabled
him to support in some degree a system
of credit, the advantages of which were
incalculably great.
He had, through the Chevalier de la

268

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

Luzerne obtained permission from the
King of France to draw for "half a mil
lion of livres monthly, until six millions
should be received. To prevent the
diversion of any part of this sum from.
the most essential objects, he had con
cealed the negotiation even from Con
gress, and had communicated it only to
Washington ; yet, after receiving the
first instalment, it was discovered that
Dr. Franklin had anticipated the resi
due of the loan, and had appropriated
it to the purposes of the United States.
At the commencement of the year
1782, not a dollar remained in the
treasury ; and, although Congress had
required the payment of two millions
on the 1st of April, not a cent had been
received on the 23d of that month;
and, so late as the 1st of June, not
more than twenty thousand dollars had
reached the treasury. Yet to Robert
Morris every eye was turned; to him
the empty hand of every public cred
itor was stretched forth ; and against
him, instead of the State governments,
the complaints and imprecations of
every unsatisfied claimant were direct
ed. In July, when the second quarter
annual payment of taxes ought to have
been received, Morris was informed by
some of his agents, that the collection
of the revenue had been postponed in
some of the States, in consequence of
which the month of December would
arrive before any money could come
into the hands of the continental re
ceivers. In a letter communicating this
unpleasant intelligence to Washington,

he added : "With such gloomy prospects
as this letter affords, I am tied here to
be baited by continual clamorous de
mands ; and for the forfeiture of all
that is valuable in life, and which I
hoped at this moment to enjoy, I am to
be paid by invective. Scarce a day
passes in which I am not tempted to
give back into the hands of Congress
the power they have delegated, and to
lay down a burden which presses me to
the earth. Nothing prevents me but
a knowledge of the difficulties I am
obliged to struggle under. What may
be the success of my efforts, God only
knows ; but to leave my post at present
would, I know, be ruinous. This can
did state of my situation and feelings I
give to your bosom, because you, who
have already felt and suffered so much,
will be able to sympathize with me."
Fortunately for the United States,
the temper of the British nation on the
subject of continuing the war did not
accord with that of its sovereign. That
war, into which the people had entered
with at least as much eagerness as the
minister, had become almost universally
unpopular. Motions against the measures of ad
ministration respecting America were
repeated by the opposition; and, on
every experiment, the strength of the
minority increased. At length, on the
27th of February, General Conway
moved in the House of Commons,
"that it is the opinion of this house
that a further prosecution of offensive
war against America would, under

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

269

-present circumstances, be the means of
weakening the efforts of this country
against her European enemies, and tend
to increase the mutual enmity so fatal
to the interests both of Great Britain
and America." The whole force of ad
ministration was exerted to get rid of
this resolution, but was exerted in vain,
and it was carried. An address to the
king, in the words of the resolution,
was immediately voted, and was pre
sented by the whole house. The an
swer of the crown being deemed inex
plicit, it was on the 4th of March re
solved, "that the house will consider
as enemies to his majesty and the coun
try, all those who should advise or at
tempt a further prosecution of offensive
war on the continent of North Amer
ica." These votes were soon followed by
a change of ministers, and by instruc
tions to the officers commanding the
forces in America, which conformed to
them. While Washington was employed in
addressing circular letters to the State
governments, suggesting all those mo
tives which might stimulate them to
exertions better proportioned to the
exigency, English papers, containing the
debates in parliament on the various pro
positions respecting America, reached
the United States. Alarmed at the im
pression these debates might make, he
introduced the opinions it was deemed
prudent to inculcate respecting them,
into the letters he was then about to
transmit to the governors of the several
Vo!. II.— 35

1783.

States. "I have perused these de
bates," he said, "with great attention
and care, with a view, if possible, to
penetrate their real design; and upon
the most mature deliberation
I can bestow, I am obliged to
declare it as my candid opinion, that
the measure, in all its views, so far as it
respects America, is merely delusory,
having no serious intention to admit
our independence upon its true princi
ples, but is calculated to produce a
change of ministers to quiet the minds
of their own people and reconcile them
to a continuance of the war, while it is
meant to amuse this country with a
false idea of peace, to draw us from our
connection with France, and to lull us
into a state of security and inactivity;
which taking place, the ministry will
be left to prosecute the war in other
parts of the world with greater vigor
and effect. Your Excellency will per
mit me on this occasion to observe,
that, even if the nation and parliament
are really in earnest to obtain peace
with America, it will undoubtedly be
wisdom in us to meet them with great
caution and circumspection, and by all
means to keep our arms firm in our
hands, and instead of relaxing one iota
in our exertions, rather to spring for
ward with redoubled vigor, that we
may take the advantage of every favor
able opportunity, until our wishes are
fully obtained. No nation yet suffered
in treaty by preparing (even in the
moment of negotiation) most vigorously
for the field.

270

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

"The industry which the enemy is
using to propagate their pacific reports,
appears to me a circumstance very sus
picious ; and the eagerness with which
the people, as I am informed, are catch
ing at -them, is, in my opinion, equally
dangerous." While Washington was still residing
at Philadelphia, in conference with the
committees of Congress, a spirited naval
action took place near the capes of the
Delaware, which must have afforded
him much gratification.
The Delaware Bay was, at this pe
riod, says Peterson,* infested with small
cruisers of the enemy, which not only
captured the river craft, but molested
the neighboring shores. To repress
these marauders, the State of Pennsyl
vania determined to fit out a vessel or
two at its own expense ; and with this
view, a small merchant ship, called the
Hyder Aii, then lying outward-bound
with a cargo of flour, was purchased.
It took but a few days to discharge her
freight, to pierce her for sixteen guns,
and to provide her with an armament.
Volunteers flocked to offer themselves
for her crew. The command was given
to Barney, and, at the head of a con
voy of outward-bound merchantmen, he
stood clown the bay, and anchored, on
the 8th of April, in the roads off Cape
May, where he awaited a proper wind
for the traders to go to sea. Suddenly
two ships and a brig, one of the former
a frigate, were seen rounding the cape,
<* C. J. Peterson : History of 'the Navy of the United States.

obviously with the intention of attack
ing him; on which he signalled the
convoy to stand up the bay, the wind
being at the southward, himself cover
ing their rear, and the enemy in hot
pursuit. In order to head off the fugitives, the
frigate took one channel and her con
sorts the other ; the ship and brig
choosing that which the Hyder Aii had
selected. The brig, being a very fast
vessel, soon overhauled Barney ; but,
contenting herself with giving him a
broadside as she passed, pressed on in
pursuit of the convoy. The Hyder Aii
declined to return this fire, holding her
self in reserve for the ship, a sloop-of-
war mounting twenty guns, which was
now seen rapidly approaching. When
the Englishman drew near, Barney sud
denly luffed, threw in his broadside,
and immediately righting his helm, kept
away again. This staggered the enemy,
who, being so much the superior, and
having a frigate within sustaining dis
tance, had expected the Hyder Aii to
surrender. The two vessels were now
within pistol-shot of each other, and the
forward guns of the British were just
beginning to bear, when Barney, in a
loud voice, ordered his quartermaster
" to port his helm." The command was
distinctly heard on board the enemy, as
indeed Barney had intended it should
be, and the Englishman immediately
prepared to manoeuvre his ship accord
ingly. But the quartermaster of the
Hyder Aii had, prior to this, received
his instructions, and, instead of obeying

Cbap. xxiv.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

271

Barney's pretended order, whirled his
wheel in the contrary direction, luffing
the American ship athwart the hawse
of her antagonist. The jib-boom of the
enemy, in consequence of this, caught in
the fore-rigging of the Hyder Aii, giv
ing the latter the raking position which
Barney had desired.
Not a cheer rose from the American
vessel, even at this welcome spectacle ;
for the men knew that victory against
such odds was still uncertain, and they
thought as yet only of securing it. Nor
did the British, at a sight so dispiriting
to them, yield in despair. On the con
trary, both crews rushed to their guns,
and, for half an hour, the combat was
waged on either side with desperate
fury. The two vessels were soon en
veloped in smoke. The explosions of
the artillery were like continuous claps
of thunder. In twenty-six minutes not
less than twenty broadsides were dis
charged. Nor was the struggle con
fined to the batteries. Riflemen, posted
in the tops of the Hyder Aii, picked
off, one by one, the crew of the enemy,
until his decks ran slippery with blood,
and fifty-six, out of his crew of one hun
dred and forty, had fallen. All this
while Barney stood on the quarter-deck
of his ship, a mark for the enemy's
sharp-shooters, until they were driven
from their stations by the superior aim
of the Americans. At length, finding
further resistance hopeless, the English
man struck his colors. Huzza on huzza
now rose from the deck of the victor.
Barney, on taking possession, discovered

that the vessel he had captured was the
General Monk, and that her weight or
metal was nearly twice his own. Not
withstanding the presence of the frig
ate, the young hero succeeded in bring
ing oft' his prize in safety, and in a few
hours had moored her by the Hyder
Ali's side, opposite Philadelphia, with
the dead of both ships still on their
decks. In this action Barney lost but
four killed and eleven wounded. For
the victory, conceded to be the most
brilliant of the latter years of the war,
Barney was rewarded by the State of
Pennsylvania with a gold-hilted sword.
In consequence of the capture of the
General Monk, the Delaware ceased to
be infested with the enemy.*
About the middle of April, Wash
ington left Philadelphia, where he had
remained since November (1781), and
joined the army, his head-quarters being
at Newburg. He was directly informed
of a very shameful proceeding,
on the part of some refugees
from New York, and felt compelled to
give the matter his serious attention.
The circumstances were these : Captain
Huddy, who commanded a body of
troops in Monmouth County, New Jer
sey, was attacked by a party of refu
gees, was made prisoner, and closely
confined in New York. A few days
afterwards they led him out and hanged
him, with a label on his breast, declar
ing that he was put to death in retalia
tion for some of their number, who,

» See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

272

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV

they said, had suffered a similar fate.
Taking up the matter promptly, Wash
ington submitted it to his officers ;
laid it before Congress ; and wrote to
Clinton, demanding that Captain Lip-
pencot, the perpetrator of the horrid
deed, should be given up. The de
mand not being complied with, Wash
ington, in accordance with the opinion
of the council of officers, determined
upon retaliation. A British officer, of
equal rank with Captain Huddy, was
chosen by lot. Captain Asgill, a young
man, just nineteen years old, and the
only son of his parents, was the one
upon whom the lot fell. The whole
affair was in suspense for a number of
months. Both Clinton, and Carleton,
his successor, reprobated the act of Lip-
pencot with great severity ; yet he was
not given up, it being considered, by a
court-martial, that he had only obeyed
the orders of the Board of Associated
Loyalists in New York. Great interest
was made to save Asgill's life ; his
mother begged the interference of the
Count de Vergennes, who wrote to
Washington in her behalf. Early in
November, Washington performed the
grateful task of setting Captain Asgill
at liberty.
Meantime the army, by whose toils
and sufferings the country had been
carried through the perils of the Revo
lution, remained unpaid, apparently
disregarded by Congress and by the
people whom they had delivered from
oppression. It seemed probable that
they would speedily be disbanded,

without any adequate provision being
made by Congress for the compensation
which was due to them, and which had
been solemnly promised by repeated
acts of legislation. They were very
naturally discontented. Their com
plaints and murmurs began to be omi
nous of very serious consequences.
They even began to question the effi
ciency of the form of government,
which appeared to be unfitted for meet
ing the first necessities of the country —
the maintenance and pay of its military
force. They began to consider the
propriety of establishing a more ener
getic form of government, while they
still had their arms in their hands.
Colonel Nicola, an able and experienced
officer, who stood high in Washington's
estimation, and had frequently been
made the medium of communication
between him and the officers, was cho
sen as the organ for making known
their sentiments to him on the present
occasion. In a letter carefully written,
after commenting upon the gloomy
state of public affairs, the disordered
finances, and other embarrassments oc
casioned by the war, all caused by de
fective political organization, he pro
ceeded to say : " This must have shown
to all, and to military men in particular,
the weakness of republics, and the exer
tions the army have been able to make
by being under a proper head. There
fore, I little doubt that, when the bene
fits of a mixed government are pointed
out and duly considered, such will be
readily adopted. In this case it will, I

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

273

believe, be uncontroverted, 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 universal esteem and ven
eration of an army, would be most
likely to conduct and direct us in the
smoother paths of peace. Some people
have so connected the ideas of tyranny
and monarchy as to find it very difficult
to separate them. It may, therefore,
be requisite to give the head of such a
constitution as I propose some title ap
parently more moderate ; but, if all
things were once adjusted, I believe
strong arguments might be produced
for admitting the name of King, which
I conceive would be attended with
some material advantages."
The answer of Washington to this
communication was in the following
terms: "Neweukg, 22d May, 1782.
" Sir : — With a mixture of great sur
prise and astonishment, I have read
with attention the sentiments you have
submitted to my perusal. Be assured,
sir, no occurrence in the course of the
war has given me more painful sensa
tions than your information of there
being such ideas existing in the army as
you have expressed, and I must view
with abhorrence and reprehend with
severity. For the present, the commu
nication of them will rest in my own
bosom, unless some further agitation of
the matter shall make a disclosure ne
cessary.

"I am much at a loss to conceive
what part of my conduct could have
given encouragement to an address,
which to me seems big with the great
est mischiefs that can befall my coun
try. If I am not deceived in the
knowledge of myself, you could not
have found a person to whom your
schemes are more disagreeable. At
the same time, in justice to my own
feelings, I must add, that no man pos
sesses a more sincere wish to see ample
justice done to the army than I do;
and as far as my powers and influence,
in a constitutional way, extend, they
shall be employed, to the utmost of my
abilities, to effect it, should there be any
occasion. Let me conjure you, then, if
you have any regard for your country,
concern for yourself or posterity, or re
spect for me, to banish these thoughts
from your mind, and never communi
cate, as from yourself or any one else,
a sentiment of the like nature.
" I am, sir, &c,
" George Washington."
This was the language of Washing
ton at a time when the army was en
tirely devoted to him, when his popu
larity was equal to that of Cromwell or
Napoleon in their palmiest days. Cer
tain officers of the army were ready, at
a word, to make him king; and the
acknowledged inefficiency of the exist
ing government would have furnished
a plausible reason for the act. But
Washington was not formed of the ma
terial that kings are made of. Personal

274

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

ambition he despised. To he, not to
seem great and good, was his aim. To
serve, and not to rule his country, was
his object. He was too true a patriot
to assume the power and title of a
monarch. Early in May, Sir Guy
Carleton, who had succeeded Sir Henry
Clinton in the command of all the Brit
ish forces in the United States, arrived
at New York. Having been also ap
pointed, in conjunction with Admiral
Digby, a commissioner to negotiate a
peace, he lost no time in conveying to
Washington copies of the votes of the
British parliament, and of a bill which
had been introduced on the part of the
administration, authorizing the king to
conclude a peace or truce with those
who were still denominated "the re
volted colonies of North America."
These papers, he said, would manifest
the dispositions prevailing with the
government and people of England
towards those of America; and, if the
like pacific temper should prevail in
this country, both inclination and duty
would lead him to meet it with the
most zealous concurrence. He had ad
dressed to Congress, he said, a letter
containing the same communications,
and he solicited a passport for the per
son who should convey it.
At this time, the bill enabling the
British monarch to conclude a
peace or truce with America
had not become a law ; nor was any
assurance given that the present com
missioners were empowered to offer
other terms than those which had been

1182.

formerly rejected. General Carleton
therefore could not hope that negotia
tions would commence on such a basis ;
nor be disappointed at the refusal of
the passports he requested by Congress,
to whom the application was, of course,
referred by Washington. The letter
may have been written for the general
purpose of conciliation ; but the situa
tion of the United States justified a sus
picion of different motives, and pru
dence required that their conduct should
be influenced by that suspicion. The
repugnance of the king to a dismem
berment of the empire was understood,
and it was thought probable that the
sentiments expressed in the House of
Commons might be attributable rather
to a desire of changing ministers, than
to any fixed determination to relinquish
the design of reannexing America to
the crown.
Under these impressions, the over
tures now made were considered as
opiates, administered to lull the spirit
of vigilance, which Washington and his
friends in Congress labored to keep up,
into a state of fatal repose, and to pre
vent those measures of security which
it might yet be necessary to adopt.
This jealousy was nourished by all
the intelligence received from Europe.
The utmost address of the British cab
inet had been employed to detach the
belligerents from each other. The me
diation of Russia had been accepted to
procure a separate peace with Holland;
propositions had been submitted both
to France and Spain, tending to an ac-

Chap. XXTV]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

275

commodation of differences with each
of those powers singly; and inquiries
had been made of Mr. Adams, the
American minister at the Hague in
place of Mr. Laurens, which seemed to
contemplate the same object with re
gard to the United States. These po
litical manoeuvres furnished additional
motives for doubting the sincerity of
the English cabinet. Whatever views
might actuate the court of St. James on
this subject, the resolution of the Amer
ican government to make no separate
treaty was unalterable.
But the public votes which have
been stated, and probably his private
instructions, restrained Sir Guy Carle
ton from offensive war; and the state
of the American army disabled Wash
ington from making any attempt on
the posts in possession of the British.
The campaign of 1782 consequently
passed away without furnishing any
military operations of moment between
the armies under the immediate direc
tion of the respective commanders-in-
chief. Early in August a letter was received
by Washington from Sir Guy Carleton
and Admiral Digby, which, among
other communications manifesting a pa
cific disposition on the part of England,
contained the information that
Mr. Grenville was at Paris, in
vested with full powers to treat with
all the parties at war, that negotiations
for a general peace were already com
menced, and that his Majesty had com
manded his minister to direct Mr.

IT82.

Grenville, that the independence of the
thirteen provinces should be proposed
by him in the first instance, instead of
being made a condition of a general
treaty. But that this proposition would
be made in the confidence that the loy
alists would be restored to their posses
sions, or a full compensation made them
for whatever confiscations might have
taken place.
This letter was, not long afterwards,
followed by one from Sir Guy Carleton,
declaring that he could discern no fur
ther object of contest, and that he dis
approved of all further hostilities by
sea or land, which could only multiply
the miseries of individuals, without a
possible advantage to either nation. In
pursuance of this opinion, he had, soon
after his arrival in New York, restrain
ed the practice of detaching parties of
Indians against the frontiers of the
United States, and had recalled those
which were previously engaged in those
bloody incursions.
These communications appear to have
alarmed the jealousy of the minister of
France. To quiet his fears, Congress
renewed the resolution " to enter into
no discussion of any overtures for pacifi
cation, but in confidence and in concert
with his most Christian Majesty ;" and
again recommended to the several
States to adopt such measures as would
most effectually guard against all inter
course with any subjects of the British
crown during the war.
In South Carolina, the American
army under General Greene maintained

276

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV".

its position in front of Jacksonborough,
and that of the British under General
Leslie was confined to Charleston and
its immediate vicinity. Both were in
active for a long period, and during
this time Greene's army suffered so
much for want of provisions that he
was under the necessity of authorizing
the seizure of them by the odious
measure of impressment.
Privations, which had been borne
without a murmur under the excite
ment of active military operations, pro
duced great irritation during the leisure
which prevailed after the enemy had
abandoned the open field ; and, in the
Pennsylvania line, which was composed
chiefly of foreigners, the discontent was
aggravated to such a point as to pro
duce a treasonable intercourse with the
enemy, in which a plot is understood
to have been laid for seizing General
Greene and delivering him to a detach
ment of British troops, which would
move out of Charleston for the purpose
of favoring the execution of the design.
It was discovered when it is supposed
to have been on the point of execution ;
and a Serjeant Gornell, believed to be
the chief of the conspiracy, was con
demned to death by a court-martial,
and executed on the 22d of April.
Some others, among whom were two
domestics in the general's family, were
brought before the court on suspicion
of being concerned in the plot, but the
testimony was not sufficient to convict
them ; and twelve deserted the night
after it was discovered. There is no

1T83.

reason to believe that the actual guilt
of this transaction extended further.
Charleston was held until the
14th of December. Previous to
its evacuation, General Leslie had pro
posed a cessation of hostilities, and that
his troops might be supplied with fresh
provisions, in exchange for articles of
the last necessity in the American camp.
The policy of government being adverse
to this proposition, General Greene was
under the necessity of refusing his assent
to it, and the British general continued
to supply his wants by force. This
produced several skirmishes with forag
ing parties, to one of which importance
was given by the untimely death of the
intrepid Laurens, whose loss was univer
sally lamented.
This gallant and accomplished young
gentleman had entered into the military
family of Washington at an early period
of the war, and had always shared a
large portion of his esteem. Brave to
excess, he sought every occasion to
render service to his country, and to
acquire that military fame which he
pursued with the ardor of a young
soldier, whose courage seems to have
partaken largely of that romantic spirit
which youth and enthusiasm produce in
a fearless mind. No small addition to
the regrets occasioned by his loss was
derived from the reflection that he fell
unnecessarily, in an unimportant skir
mish, in the last moments of the war,
when his rash exposure to the danger
which proved fatal to him could no
longer be useful to his country.

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

277

From the arrival of Sir Guy Carleton
at New York, the conduct of the British
armies on the American continent was
regulated by the spirit then recently
displayed in the House of Commons;
and all the sentiments expressed by
their general were pacific and concilia
tory. But to these flattering appear
ances it was dangerous to yield implicit
confidence. With a change of men, a
change of measures might also take
place ; and, in addition to the ordinary
suggestions of prudence, the military
events in the West Indies were calcu
lated to keep alive the attention, and
to continue the anxieties of the United
States. After the surrender of Lord Corn
wallis, the arms of France and Spain
in the American seas had been attended
with such signal success, that the hope
of annihilating the power of Great
Britain in the West Indies was not too
extravagant to be indulged. Immense
preparations had been made for the in
vasion of Jamaica ; and, early in April,
Admiral Count de Grasse sailed from
Martinique with a powerful fleet, hav
ing on board the land forces and artil
lery which were to be employed in the
operations against that island. His in
tention was to form a junction with the
Spanish Admiral Don Solano, who lay
at Hispaniola; after which the com
bined fleet, whose superiority promised
to render it irresistible, was to proceed
on the important enterprise which had
been concerted. On his way to His
paniola, De Grasse was overtaken by
Vol. II.— 36

Rodney, and brought to an engage
ment, in which he was totally defeated,
and made a prisoner. This decisive
victory disconcerted the plans of the
combined powers, and gave security to
the British islands. In the United
States, it was feared that this alteration
in the aspect of affairs might influence
the councils of the English cabinet on
the question of peace ; and these ap
prehensions increased the uneasiness
with which all intelligent men con
templated the state of the American
finances. It was then in contemplation to re
duce the army, by which many of the
officers would be discharged. While
the general declared, in a confidential
letter to the secretary of war, his con
viction of the alacrity with which they
would retire into private life, could
they be placed in a situation as eligible
as they had left to enter into the ser
vice, he added — "Yet I cannot help
fearing the result of the measure, when
I see such a number of men goaded by
a thousand stings of reflection on the
past, and of anticipation on the future,
about to be turned on the world, soured
by penury, and what they call the in
gratitude of the public; involved in
debts, without one farthing of money
to carry them home, after having spent
the flower of their days, and, many of
them, their patrimonies, in establishing
the freedom and independence of their
country; and having suffered every
thing which human nature is capable of
enduring on this side of death. I re-

278

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

peat it, when I reflect on these irrita
ting circumstances, unattended by one
thing to soothe their feelings or bright
en the gloomy prospect, I cannot avoid
apprehending that a train of evils will
follow of a very serious and distressing
nature. " I wish not to heighten the shades
of the picture so far as the real life
would justify me in doing, or I would
give anecdotes of patriotism and dis
tress which have scarcely ever been
paralleled, never surpassed, in the his
tory of mankind. But you may rely
upon it, the patience and long-suffer
ance of this army are almost exhausted,
and there never was so great a spirit of
discontent as at this instant. While in
the field, I think it may be kept from
breaking out into acts of outrage ; but
when we retire into winter-quarters
(unless the storm be previously dissi
pated), I cannot be at ease respecting
the consequences. It is high time for a
peace." "To judge rightly," says Marshall, "of
the motives which produced this uneasy
temper in the army, it will be necessary
to recollect that the resolution of Octo
ber, 1780, granting half-pay for life to
the officers, stood on the mere faith of
a government possessing no funds ena
bling it to perform its engagements.
From requisitions alone, to be made on
sovereign States, the supplies were to
be drawn which should satisfy these
meritorious public creditors ; and the
ill success attending these requisitions
while the dangers of war were still im

pending, furnished melancholy presages
of their unproductiveness in time of
peace. In addition to this reflection, of
itself sufficient to disturb the tranquillity
which the passage of the resolution had
produced, were other considerations of
decisive influence. The dispositions
manifested by Congress itself were so
unfriendly to the half-pay establishment
as to extinguish the hope that any
funds the government might acquire
would be applied to that object. Since
the passage of the resolution, the arti
cles of confederation, which required
the concurrence of nine States to any
act appropriating public money, had
been adopted ; and nine States had
never been in favor of the measure.
Should the requisitions of Congress
therefore be respected, or should per
manent funds be granted by the States,
the prevailing sentiment of the nation
was too hostile to the compensation
which had been stipulated, to leave a
probability that it would be substan
tially made. This was not merely the
sentiment of the individuals then ad
ministering the government, which
might change with a change of men:
it was known to be the sense of the
States they represented ; and conse
quently the hope could not be indulged
that, on this subject, a future Congress
would be more just, or would think
more liberally. As, therefore, the estab
lishment of that independence for which
they had fought and suffered appeared
to become more certain — as the end of
their toils approached — the officers be-

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

279

1782.

came more attentive to their own situa
tion ; and the inquietude of the army
increased with the progress of the ne
gotiation." In October, the French troops
marched to Boston, in order to embark
for the West Indies, and the Americans
retired into winter quarters.
The apparent indisposition of
the British general to act offensively,
the pacific temper avowed by the cab
inet of London, and the strength of the
country in which the American troops
were cantoned, gave ample assurance
that no military operations would be
undertaken during the winter, which
could require the continuance of Wash
ington in camp. But the irritable tem
per of the army furnished cause for
serious apprehension, and he determined
to forego every gratification to be de
rived from a suspension of his toils, in
order to watch the progress of its dis
content. The officers who had wasted their for
tunes and the prime of their lives in un
rewarded service, fearing, with reason,
that Congress possessed neither the
power nor the inclination to comply
with its engagements to the army, could
not look with unconcern at the prospect
which was opening to them. In De
cember, soon after going into winter-
quarters, they presented a petition to
Congress, respecting the money actually
due to them, and proposing a commuta
tion of the half-pay stipulated by the
resolutions of October, 1780, for a sum in
gross, which, they flattered themselves,

would encounter fewer prejudices than
the half-pay establishment. Some se
curity that the engagements of the gov
ernment would be complied with, was
also requested. A committee of officers
was deputed to solicit the attention of
Congress to this memorial, and to at
tend its progress through the house.
Among the most distinguished mem
bers of the federal government, were
persons sincerely disposed to do ample
justice to the public creditors generally,
and to that class of them particularly
whose claims were founded in military
service. But many viewed the army
with jealous eyes, acknowledged its
merit with unwillingness, and betrayed,
involuntarily, their repugnance to a
faithful observance of the public en
gagements. With this question another
of equal importance was connected, on
which Congress was divided almost in
the same manner. One party was at
tached to a State, the other to a conti
nental system. The latter labored to
fund the public debts on solid conti
nental security, while the former op
posed their whole weight to measures
calculated to effect that object.
In consequence of these divisions on
points of the deepest interest, the busi
ness of the army advanced slowly, and
the important question respect
ing the commutation of their ^^
half-pay remained undecided,
when intelligence was received of the
signature of the preliminary and even
tual articles of peace between the Uni
ted States and Great Britain.

280

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

The officers, soured by their past suf
ferings, their present wants, and their
gloomy prospects — exasperated by the
neglect which they experienced, and
the injustice which they apprehended,
manifested an irritable and uneasy tem
per, which required only a slight im
pulse to give it activity. To render
this temper the more dangerous, an
opinion had been insinuated that the
commander-in-chief was restrained, by
extreme delicacy, from supporting their
interests with that zeal which his feel
ings and knowledge of their situation
had inspired. Early in March, a letter
was received from their committee in
Philadelphia, showing that the objects
they solicited had not been obtained.
On the 10th of that month, an anony
mous paper was circulated, requiring a
meeting of the general and field officers
at the public building on the succeeding
day at eleven in the morning, and an
nouncing the expectation that an officer
from each company, and a delegate
from the medical staff would attend.
The object of the meeting was avowed
to be, " to consider the late letter from
their representatives in Philadelphia,
and what measures (if any) should be
adopted to obtain that redress of griev
ances which they seemed to have so
licited in vain."
On the same day an address to the
army was privately circulated, which
was admirably well calculated to work
on the passions of the moment, and to
lead to the most desperate resolutions.
This was the first of the celebrated

Newburg Addresses, since acknowledg
ed to have been written by General
John Armstrong, at the request of sev
eral of the officers in camp. The fol
lowing were the concluding passages of
the first address :
"After a pursuit of seven long years,
the object for which we set out is at
length brought within our reach. Yes,
my friends, that suffering courage of
yours was active once. It has con
ducted the United States of America
through a doubtful and a bloody war.
It has placed her in the chair of inde
pendency; and peace returns again to
bless— whom? A country willing to
redress your wrongs, cherish your
worth, and reward your services ? A
country courting your return to private
life with tears of gratitude and smiles
of admiration — longing to divide with
you that independency which your
gallantry has given, and those riches
which your wounds have preserved ? Is
this the case ? Or is it rather a country
that tramples upon your rights, dis
dains your cries, and insults your dis
tresses? Have you not more than once
suggested your wishes and made known
your wants to Congress? Wants and
wishes which gratitude and policy
would have anticipated rather than
evaded; and have you not lately, in
the meek language of entreating me
morials, begged from their justice what
you could no longer expect from their
favor? How have you been answer
ed ? Let the letter which you are
called to consider to-morrow reply.

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

281

"If this then be your treatment
while the swords you wear are neces
sary for the defence of America, what
have you to expect from peace, when
your voice shall sink, and your strength
dissipate by division? When those very
swords, the instruments and compan
ions of your glory shall be taken from
your sides, and no remaining mark of
military distinction left but your wants,
infirmities, and scars? Can you then
consent to be the only sufferers by this
Revolution, and, retiring from the field,
grow old in poverty, wretchedness, and
contempt ? Can you consent to wade
through the vile mire of dependency,
and owe the miserable remnant of that
life to charity which has hitherto been
spent in honor ? If you can — go ; and
carry with you the jest of tories, and
the scorn of whigs — the ridicule, and,
what is worse, the pity of the world. Go
— starve and be forgotten. But if your
spirit should revolt at this, if you have
sense enough to discover, and spirit
enough to oppose, tyranny under what
ever 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 be
tween a people and a 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.
"I would advise you therefore to
come to some final opinion upon what

you can bear, and what you will suffer
If your determination be in any pro
portion to your wrongs, carry your
appeal from the justice to the fears of
the government. Change the milk-and-
water style of your last memorial.
Assume a bolder tone, — decent, but
hvely, spirited, and determined; and
suspect the man who would advise to
more moderation and longer forbear
ance. Let two or three men who can
feel as well as write, be appointed to
draw up your last remonstrance ; for I
would no longer give it the sueing,
soft, unsuccessful epithet of memorial.
Let it be represented in language that
will neither dishonor you by its rude
ness nor betray you by its fears, what
has been promised by Congress, and
what has been performed ; how long
and how patiently you have suffered ;
how little you have asked, and how
much of that little has been denied.
Tell them that, though you were the
first, and would wish to be the last to
encounter danger; though despair it
self can never drive you into dishonor,
it may drive you from the field ; that
the wound often irritated and never
healed, may at length become incura
ble; and that the slightest mark of
indignity from Congress now must op
erate like the grave, and part you for
ever; that in any political event, the
army has its alternative: — if peace, that
nothing shall separate you from your
arms but death ; if war, that courting
the auspices, and inviting the directions
of your illustrious leader, you will re-

282

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

tire to some unsettled country, smile in
your turn, and 'mock when their fear
cometh on.' But let it represent also
that, should they comply with the re
quest of your late memorial, it would
make you more happy and them more
respectable. That while war should
continue you would follow their stand
ard into the field ; and when it came to
an end, you would withdraw into the
shade of private life, and give the
world another subject of wonder and
applause — an army victorious over its
enemies, victorious over itself."
Persuaded as the officers in general
were of the indisposition of govern
ment to remunerate their services, this
eloquent and impassioned address, dic
tated by genius and by feeling, found
in almost every bosom a kindred
though latent sentiment prepared to
receive its impression. Quick as the
train to which a torch is applied, the
passions caught its flame, and nothing
seemed to be required but the assem
blage proposed for the succeeding day,
to communicate the conflagration to
the combustible mass, and to produce
an explosion ruinous to the army and
to the nation.
Accustomed, as Washington had
been, to emergencies of great delicacy
and difficulty, yet none had occurred
which called more pressingly than the
present, for the utmost exertion of all
his powers. He knew well that it was
much easier to avoid intemperate meas
ures than to recede from them after
they have been adopted. He there

fore considered it as a matter of the
last importance, to prevent the meeting
of the officers on the succeeding day
as proposed in the anonymous
rm m -i- • p 1783.
summons. The sensibilities of
the army were too high to admit of
this being forbidden by authority, as a
violation of discipline ; but the end
was answered in another way, and
without irritation. Washington, in
general orders, noticed the anonymous
summons, as a disorderly proceeding,
not to be countenanced ; and the more
effectually to divert the officers from
paying any attention to it, he request
ed them to meet for the same nominal
purpose, but on a day four days subse
quent to the one proposed by the
anonymous writer. On the next day
(March 12), the second Newbwrg Ad
dress appeared, affecting to consider
Washington as approving the first, and
only changing the day of meeting.
But this artifice was defeated. The
intervening period was improved in
preparing the officers for the adoption
of moderate measures. Washington
sent for one officer after another, and
enlarged in private on the fatal con
sequences, and particularly the loss of
character, which would result from the
adoption of intemperate resolutions.
His whole personal influence was ex
erted to calm the prevailing agitation.
When the officers assembled, March
General Gates was called to the is,
chair. Washington rose and
apologized for being present, which
had not been his original intention ;

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

283

but the circulation of anonymous ad
dresses had imposed on him the duty
of expressing his opinion of their ten
dency. He had committed it to wri
ting, and with the indulgence of his
brother officers he would take the
liberty of reading it to them ; and then
proceeded as follows :
"Gentlemen: — By an anonymous
summons, an attempt has been made to
convene you together. How inconsis
tent with the rules of propriety, how
unmilitary, and how subversive of all
order and discipline, let the good sense
of the army decide.
"In the moment of this summons,
another anonymous production was sent
into circulation, addressed more to the
feelings and passions than to the reason
and judgment of the army. The author
of the piece is entitled to much credit
for the goodness of his pen ; and I
could wish he had as much credit for
the rectitude of his heart; for, as men
see through different optics, and are in
duced, by the reflecting faculties of the
mind, to use different means to attain
the same end, the author of the address
should have had more charity than to
mark for suspicion the man who should
recommend moderation and longer for
bearance ; or, in other words, who should
not think as he thinks, and act as he
advises. But he had another plan in
view in which candor and liberality of
sentiment, regard to justice, and love of
country, have no part ; and he was
right to insinuate the darkest suspicion

to effect the blackest design. That the
address is drawn with great art, and is
designed to answer the most insidious
purposes ; that it is calculated to im
press the mind with an idea of pre
meditated injustice in the sovereign
power of the United States, and rouse
all those resentments which must una
voidably flow from such a belief; that
the secret mover of this scheme, who
ever he may be, intended to take ad
vantage of the passions, while they
were warmed by the recollection of
past distresses, without giving time for
cool, deliberate thinking, and that com
posure of mind which is so necessary to
give dignity and stability to measures,
is rendered too obvious, by the mode
of conducting the business, to need
other proof than a reference to the
proceeding. Thus much, gentlemen, I
have thought it incumbent on me to
observe to you, to show upon what
principles I opposed the irregular and
hasty meeting which was proposed to
have been held on Tuesday last, and
not because I wanted a disposition to
give you every opportunity, consistent
with your own honor and the dignity
of the army, to make known your griev
ances. If my conduct heretofore has
not evinced to you that I have been a
faithful friend to the army, my declara
tion of it at this time would be
equally unavailing and improp
er. 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

1T83.

284

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

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 mihtary
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 indig
nation has arisen when the mouth of
detraction has been opened against it,
it can scarcely be supposed, at this late
stage of the war, that I am indifferent
to its interests. But how are they to
be promoted ? The way is plain, says
the anonymous addresser. If war con
tinues, remove into the unsettled coun
try ; there establish yourselves, and
leave an ungrateful country to defend
itself. But who are they to defend ?
Our wives, our children, our farms and
other property, which we leave behind
us ? Or, in this state of hostile separa
tion, are we to take the two first (the
latter cannot be removed), to perish in
a wilderness, with hunger, cold, and
nakedness? If peace takes place, never
sheathe your swords, says he, until you
have obtained full and ample justice.
This dreadful alternative of either de
serting our country in the extremest
hour of her distress, or turning our
arms against it, which is the apparent
object, unless Congress can be com
pelled into instant compliance, has
something so shocking in it, that hu
manity revolts at the idea. My God !
what can this writer have in view, by
recommending such measures? Can he

be a friend to the army ? Can he be a
friend to this country ? Rather, is he
not an insidious foe? some emissary,
perhaps, from New York, plotting the
ruin of both, by sowing the seeds of
discord and separation between the
civil and military powers of the con
tinent ? And what a compliment does
he pay to our understandings, when he
recommends measures, in either alter
native, impracticable in their nature !
But here, gentlemen, I will drop the
curtain, because it would be as impru
dent in me to assign my reasons for
this opinion, as it would be insulting to
your conception to suppose you stood
in need of them. A moment's reflec
tion will convince every dispassionate
mind of the physical impossibility of
carrying either proposal into execution.
There might, gentlemen, be an impro
priety in my taking notice, in this ad
dress to you, of an anonymous produc
tion ; but the manner in which that
performance has been introduced to
the army, the effect it was intended to
have, together with some other circum
stances, will amply justify my observa
tions on the tendency of that writing.
With respect to the advice given by
the author, to suspect the man who
shall recommend moderate measures
and longer forbearance, I spurn it, as
every man who regards that liberty
and reveres that justice for which we
contend, undoubtedly must ; for, if men
are to be precluded from offering their
sentiments on a matter which may in
volve the most serious and alarming

Chap. XXIV]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

285

consequences that can invite the con
sideration of mankind, reason is of no
use to us. The freedom of speech
may be taken away, and, dumb and
silent, we may be led like sheep to the
slaughter. "I cannot, in justice to my own belief,
and what I have great reason to con
ceive is the intention of Congress, con
clude this address, without giving it as
my decided opinion, that that honor
able body entertain exalted sentiments
of the services of the army, and from a
full conviction of its merits and suffer
ings will do it complete justice: that
their endeavors to discover and estab
lish funds for this purpose has been
unwearied, and will not cease till they
have succeeded, I have not a doubt.
But, like all other large bodies where
there is a variety of different interests
to reconcile, their determinations are
slow. Why, then, should we distrust
them ; and, in consequence of that dis
trust, adopt measures which may cast a
shade over that glory which has been
so justly acquired, and tarnish the repu
tation of an army which is celebrated
through all Europe for its fortitude and
patriotism ? And for what is this done ?
To bring the object we seek nearer?
No; most certainly, in my opinion, it
will cast it at a greater distance. For
myself, — and I take no merit in giving
the assurance, being induced to it from
principles of gratitude, veracity, and
justice, — a grateful sense of the con
fidence you have ever placed in me,
a recollection of the cheerful assistance
Vol. IT.— 37

and prompt obedience I have experi
enced 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 public and solemn man
ner, that in the attainment of complete
justice for all your toils and dangers,
and in the gratification of every wish,
so far as may be done consistently with
the great duty I owe my country, and
those powers we are bound to respect,
you may freely command my services
to the utmost extent of my abilities.
While I give you these assurances, and
pledge myself in the most unequivocal
manner to exert whatever abihty I am
possessed of in your favor, let me en
treat you, gentlemen, on your part, not
to take any measure, which, viewed in
the calm light of reason, will lessen the
dignity and sully the glory you have
hitherto maintained. Let me request
you to rely on the plighted faith of
your country, and place a full confi
dence in the purity of the intentions of
Congress, that, previous to your disso
lution 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
conjure you, in the name of our com
mon country, as you value your own
sacred honor, as you respect the rights
of humanity, and as you regard the

286

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

military and national character of
America, to express your utmost horror
and detestation of the man who wishes,
under any specious pretences, to over
turn the liberties of our country, and
who wickedly attempts to open the
flood-gates of civil discord, and deluge
our rising empire in blood.
" By thus determining and thus act
ing, you will pursue the plain and
direct road to the attainment of your
wishes ; you will defeat the insidious
designs of our enemies, who are com
pelled to resort from open force to
secret artifice. You will give one more
distinguished proof of unexampled pa
triotism and patient virtue, rising supe
rior to the pressure of the most com
plicated sufferings ; and you will, by the
dignity of your conduct, afford occasion
for posterity to say, when speaking of
the glorious example you have exhibit
ed 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.' "
After concluding this address, Wash
ington read to the meeting a letter
from one of his frequent correspondents
in Congress, the Hon. Joseph Jones,
pointing out the difficulties Congress
had to contend with, but expressing
the opinion that the claims of the army
would, at all events, be paid. When
he got through with the first paragraph
of the letter he made a short pause,
took out his spectacles, and craved the
indulgence of the audience while he

put them on, remarking, while he was
engaged in that operation, that "he
had grown gray in their service, and
now found himself growing blind." The
effect of such remark from Washington,
at such a moment, may be imagined.
It brought tears to the eyes of many a
veteran in that illustrious assemblage.
When he had finished reading the let
ter he retired, leaving the officers to
deliberate, and act as the crisis de
manded. On the present occasion, as on pre
vious ones, Washington's appeal to the
officers was successful. The sentiments
uttered in his address, from a person
whom the army had been accustomed
to love, to revere, and to obey — the
solidity of whose judgment, and the
sincerity of whose zeal for their inter
ests, were alike unquestioned — could not
fail to be irresistible. No person was
hardy enough to oppose the advice he
had given ; and the general impression
was apparent. A resolution, moved by
General Knox, and seconded by Briga
dier-general Putnam, " assuring him that
the officers reciprocated his affectionate
expressions with the greatest sincerity
of which the human heart is capable,"
was unanimously voted. On the mo
tion of General Putnam, a committee
consisting of General Knox, Colonel
Brooks, and Captain Howard was then
appointed, to prepare resolutions on
the business before them, and to report
in half an hour. The report of the
committee being brought in and con
sidered, resolutions were passed declar-

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

287

1783.

ing that no circumstances of distress
should induce the officers to sully, by
unworthy conduct, the reputation ac
quired in their long and faithful service ;
that they had undiminished confidence
in the justice of Congress and of 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.
In compliance with the request of
the officers, expressed in the above-men
tioned resolution, and with the
pledge which he had voluntari
ly given, Washington forthwith ad
dressed the following letter to the
president of Congress.
"The result of the proceedings of
the grand convention of the officers,
which I have the honor of inclosing to
your Excellency for the inspection of
Congress, will, I flatter myself, be con
sidered 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. Having seen the pro
ceedings on the part of the army ter
minate with perfect unanimity, and in
a manner entirely consonant to my
wishes ; being impressed with the live
liest sentiments of affection for those
who have so long, so patiently, and so
cheerfully suffered and fought under
my immediate direction; having from

motives of justice, duty, and gratitude,
spontaneously offered myself as an ad
vocate for their rights ; and, having
been requested to write to your Excel
lency, earnestly entreating the most
speedy decision of Congress upon the
subjects of the late address from the
army to that honorable body ; it now
only remains for me to perform the
task I have assumed, and to intercede
in their behalf, as I now do, that the
sovereign power will be pleased to veri
fy the predictions I have pronounced
of, and the confidence the army have
reposed in, the justice of their country.
And here I humbly conceive it is alto
gether unnecessary (while I am plead
ing the cause of an army which have
done and suffered more than any other
army ever did in the defence of the
rights and liberties of human nature)
to expatiate on their claims to the most
ample compensation for their meritori
ous services, because they are known
perfectly to the whole world, and be
cause (although the topics are inex
haustible) enough has already been
said on the subject. To prove these
assertions, to evince that my sentiments
have ever been uniform, and to show
what my ideas of the rewards in ques
tion have always been, I appeal to the
archives of Congress, and call on those
sacred deposits to witness for me.
And in order that my observations and
arguments in favor of a future adequate
provision for the officers of the army
may be brought to remembrance again,
and considered in a single point of

288

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

view, without giving Congress the
trouble of having recourse to their files,
I will beg leave to transmit herewith
an extract from a representation made
by me to a committee of Congress, so
long ago as the 29th of January, 1778,
and also the transcript of a letter to the
president of Congress, elated near Pas
saic Falls, October 11th, 1780.
"That in the critical and perilous
moment when the last-mentioned com
munication was made, there was the
utmost clanger a dissolution of the
army would have taken place, unless
measures similar to those recommended
had been adopted, will not admit a
doubt. That the adoption of the reso
lution granting half-pay for life has
been attended with all the happy con
sequences I had foretold, so far as re
spected the good of the service, let the
astonishing contrast between the state
of the army at this instant, and at the
former period, determine. And that
the establishment of funds, and security
of the payment of all the just demands
of the army, will be the most certain
means of preserving the national faith,
and future tranquillity of this extensive
continent, is my decided opinion.
"By the preceding remarks it will
readily be imagined, that instead of re
tracting and reprehending (from further
experience and reflection) the mode of
compensation so strenuously urged in
the inclosures, I am more and more con
firmed in the sentiment ; and if in the
wrong, suffer me to please myself with
the grateful delusion.

" For if, besides the simple payment
of their wages, a further compensation
is not due to the sufferings and sacrifices
of the officers, then have I been mis
taken indeed. If the whole army have
not merited whatever a grateful people
can bestow, then have I been beguiled
by prejudice, and built opinion on the
basis of error. If this country should
not in the event perform every thing
which has been requested in the late
memorial to Congress, then will my be
lief become vain, and the hope that has
been excited, void of foundation. And
if (as has been suggested for the pur
pose of inflaming their passions) the
officers of the army are to be the only
sufferers by this revolution ; ' if, retiring
from the field, they are to grow old in
poverty, wretchedness, and contempt ;
if they are to wade through the vile
mire of dependency, and owe the miser
able remnant of that life to charity
which has hitherto been spent in hon
or ;' then shall I have learned what in
gratitude is — then shall I have realized
a tale which will embitter every mo
ment of my future life.
" But I am under no such apprehen
sions : a country rescued by their arms
from impending ruin, will never leave
unpaid the debt of gratitude.
" Should any intemperate or improper
warmth have mingled itself amongst the
foregoing observations, I must entreat
your Excellency and Congress it may be
attributed to the effusion of an honest
zeal in the best of causes, and that my
peculiar situation may be my apology :

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

289

and I hope I need not on this momen
tous occasion make any new protesta
tions of personal disinterestedness, hav
ing ever renounced for myself the idea
of pecuniary reward. The consciousness
of having attempted faithfully to dis
charge my duty, and the approbation of
my country, will be a sufficient recom
pense for my services."
This energetic letter, connected with
recent events, induced Congress
1T83. ' . °
to decide on the claims of the
army. These were liquidated, and the
amount acknowledged to be due from
the United States. Thus the country
was once more indebted to the wisdom
and moderation of Washington for its
preservation from imminent danger.
Soon after these events, intelligence
of a general peace was received. The
news came by a French vessel from Ca
diz, with a letter from Lafayette, who
was then at that place preparing for an
expedition to the West Indies, under
Count d'Estaing. Shortly after, Sir
Guy Carleton gave official information
to the same effect, and announced a ces
sation of hostilities. The joyful intelli
gence was notified by proclamation of
Washington to the army, in the camp
at Newburg, on the 19th of April, ex
actly eight years after the commence
ment of hostilities at Lexington. In
general orders a public religious service
and thanksgiving was directed by him
to take place on the evening of the same
day, when the proclamation was read at
the head of every regiment and corps
of the army. The immediate reduction

of the army was resolved upon, but the
mode of effecting it required delibera
tion. To avoid the inconveniences of
dismissing a great number of soldiers in
a body, furloughs were freely granted
on the application of individuals, and
after their dispersion they were not en
joined to return. By this arrangement
a critical moment was got over. A
great part of an unpaid army was dis
persed over the States without tumult
or disorder. At the instance of Wash
ington, the soldiers were permitted to
carry home their arms, to be preserved
and transmitted to their posterity as
memorials of the glorious war of inde
pendence. While the veterans serving under the
immediate eye of their beloved com
mander-in-chief, manifested the utmost
good temper and conduct, a mutinous
disposition broke out among some new
levies stationed at Lancaster, in Penn
sylvania. About eighty of this descrip
tion marched in a body to Philadelphia,
where they were joined by some other
troops, so as to amount in the whole to
three hundred. They marched with
fixed bayonets to the Statehouse, in
which Congress and the State executive
council held their sessions. They placed
guards at every door, and threatened
the president and council of the State
with letting loose an enraged soldiery
upon them, unless they granted their
demands in twenty minutes. As soon
as this outrage was known to Washing
ton, he detached General Howe with a
competent force to suppress the mutiny.

290

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

This was effected without bloodshed be
fore his arrival. The mutineers were
too inconsiderable to commit extensive
mischief; but their disgraceful conduct
excited the greatest indignation in the
breast of the commander-in-chief, which
was expressed in a letter to the presi
dent of Congress in the following words :
" While I suffer the most poignant dis
tress in observing that a handful of men,
contemptible in numbers, and equally
so in point of service (if the veteran
troops from the southward have not
been seduced by their example), and
who are not worthy to be called sol
diers, should disgrace themselves and
their country as the Pennsylvania mu
tineers have done, by insulting the sov
ereign authority of the United States,
and that of their own, I feel an inex
pressible satisfaction that even this be
havior cannot stain the name of the
American soldiery. It cannot be im
putable to, or reflect dishonor on, the
army at large ; but, on the con
trary, it will, by the striking
contrast it exhibits, hold up to public
view the other troops in the most ad
vantageous point of light. Upon taking
all the circumstances into consideration,
I cannot sufficiently express my surprise
and indignation at the arrogance, the
folly, and the wickedness of the muti
neers ; nor can I sufficiently admire the
fidelity, the bravery, and patriotism
which must forever signalize the unsul
lied character of the other corps of our
army. For when we consider that these
Pennsylvania levies who have now mu-

1783.

tinied are recruits and soldiers of a day,
who have not borne the heat and bur
den of the war, and who can have in
reality very few hardships to complain
of ; and when we at the same time
recollect that those soldiers who have
lately been furloughed from this army,
are the veterans who have patiently en
dured hunger, nakedness, and cold ;
who have suffered and bled without a
murmur, and who, with perfect good
order, have retired to their homes with
out a settlement of their accounts, or a
farthing of money in their pockets, we
shall be as much astonished at the virtues
of the latter, as we are struck with detes
tation at the proceedings of the former."
On the occasion of disbanding the
army, Washington addressed a circular
letter to the governors of all the States,
in which he gave his views of the exist
ing state of the country, and the princi
ples upon which the future fabric of
united government should be founded.
It is one of the most remarkable state
papers ever produced in this country.*
Meantime Sir Guy Carleton was pre
paring to evacuate the city of New
York. On the 27th of April a fleet
had sailed for Nova Scotia with seven
thousand persons and their effects.
These were partly soldiers and partly
tories exiled by the laws of the States.
On the 6th of May, Washington had
a personal interview with Carleton at
Orangetown respecting the delivery ot
the British ports in the United States,
** See document [B] at the end of this chapter.

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Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

291

and of property directed to be sur
rendered by an article of the treaty.*
The independence of his country be
ing established, Washington looked for
ward with anxiety to its future des
tinies. These might greatly depend on
the systems to be adopted on the re
turn of peace, and to those systems
much of his attention was directed.
The future peace establishment of the
United States, was one of the many in
teresting subjects which claimed the
consideration of Congress. As the ex
perience of Washington would certainly
enable him to suggest many useful ideas
on this important point, his opinions re
specting it were requested by the com
mittee of Congress to whom it was
referred. His letter on this occasion
will long deserve the attention of those
to whom the interests of the United
States may be confided. His strongest
hopes of securing the future tranquil
lity, dignity, and respectability of his
country were placed on a well-regula
ted and well-disciplined militia; and his
sentiments on this subject are entitled
to the more regard, as a long course of
severe experience had enabled him to
mark the total incompetency of the ex
isting system to the great purposes of
national defence.
At length the British troops evacu
ated New York, and on the
1783. 25th of November a detach
ment from the American army took
possession of that city.
° See Document [C] at the end of this chapter.

Guards being posted for the security
of the citizens, Washington, accompa
nied by Governor George Clinton, and
attended by many civil and military
officers, and a large number of respect
able inhabitants on horseback, made
his public entry into the city, where
he was received with every mark of
respect and attention. His military
course was now on the point of termi
nating ; and he was about to bid adieu
to his comrades in arms. This affecting
interview took place on the 4th of De
cember. At noon, the principal offi
cers of the army assembled at Frances'
tavern ; soon after which, their beloved
commander entered the room. His
emotions were too strong to be con
cealed. Filling a glass, he turned to
them and said, "With a heart full of
love and gratitude, I now take leave of
you; I most devoutly wish that your
latter days may be as prosperous and
happy, as your former ones have been
glorious and honorable." Having drunk,
he added, " I cannot come to each of
you to take my leave, but shall be
obliged if each of you will come and
take me by the hand." General Knox,
being nearest, turned to him. Wash
ington, incapable of utterance, grasped
his hand, and embraced him. In the
same affectionate manner he took leave
of each succeeding officer. The tear ol
manly sensibility was in every eye ;
and not a word was articulated to in
terrupt the dignified silence, and the
tenderness of the scene. Leaving the
room, he passed through the corps of

292

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV

1783.

light infantry, and walked to White
hall, where a barge waited to convey
him to Paulus Hook. The whole com
pany followed in mute and solemn pro
cession, with dejected countenances, tes
tifying feelings of delicious melancholy,
which no language can describe. Hav
ing entered the barge, he turned to the
company, and, waving his hat, bid them
a silent adieu. They paid him the same
affectionate compliment ; and, after the
barge had left them, returned in the
same solemn manner to the place where
they had assembled.
Congress was then in session at An
napolis, in Maryland, to which
place Washington repaired, for
the purpose of resigning into their
hands the authority with which they
had invested him. He arrived on the
19th of December. The next day he
informed that body of his intention to
ask leave to resign the commission he
had the honor of holding in their ser
vice; and requested to know whether
it would be their pleasure that he
should offer his resignation in writing,
or at an audience.
To give the more dignity to the act,
they determined that it should be of
fered at a public audience on the fol
lowing Tuesday, 23d of December, at
twelve. When the hour arrived for perform
ing a ceremony so well calculated to
recall the various interesting scenes
which had passed since the commission
now to be returned was granted, the
gallery was crowded with spectators,

and several persons of distinction were
admitted on the floor of Congress. The
members remained seated and covered.
The spectators were standing, and un
covered. Washington was introduced
by the secretary, and conducted to a
chair. After a short pause, the presi
dent, General Mifflin, informed him that
"the United States in Congress as
sembled were prepared to receive his
communications." With native dignity,
improved by the solemnity of the oc
casion, Washington rose and deliver
ed the following address.
" Me. President : — The great events
on which my resignation depended
having at length taken place, I have
now 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 ser
vice of my country.
"Happy in the confirmation of our
independence and sovereignty, and
pleased with the opportunity afforded
the United States of becoming a respect
able nation, I resign with satisfaction
the appointment I accepted with diffi
dence; a diffidence in my abilities to
accomplish so arduous a task, which,
however, was superseded by a confi
dence in the rectitude of our cause, the
support of the supreme power of the
union, and the patronage of Heaven.
"The successful termination of the
war has verified the most sanguine. ex-

Chap. XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

293

pectations ; and my gratitude for the
interposition of Providence, and the
assistance I have received from my
countrymen, increases with every re
view of the momentous contest.
"While I repeat my obligations to the
army in general, I should do injustice
to my own feelings not to acknowledge
in this place, the peculiar services and
distinguished merits of the gentlemen
who have been attached to my person
during the war. It was impossible the
choice of confidential officers to com
pose my family should have been more
fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recom
mend in particular, those who have
continued in the service to the present
moment, as worthy of the favorable
notice and patronage of Congress.
" I consider it as an indispensable
duty to close this last act of my official
life, by commending the interests of
our dearest country to the protection
of Almighty God, and those who have
the superintendence of them to his
holy keeping.
" Having now finished the work as
signed me, I retire from the great
theatre of action, and, bidding an af
fectionate farewell to this august body,
under whose orders I have so long
acted, I here offer my commission, and
take my leave of all the employments
of public life."
After advancing to the chair and
delivering his commission to the presi
dent, he returned to his place, and
received, standing, the following answer
Vol. H.— 38

of Congress, which was delivered by
the president :
"Sir: — The United States in Con
gress assembled, receive with emotions
too affecting for utterance, the solemn
resignation of the authorities under
which you have led their troops with
success through a perilous and a doubt
ful war. Called upon by your country
to defend its invaded rights, you ac
cepted the sacred charge, before it had
formed alliances, and whilst it was
without funds or a government to- sup
port you. You have conducted the
great military contest with wisdom
and fortitude, invariably regarding the
rights of the civil power, through all
disasters and changes. You have, by
the love and confidence of your fellow-
citizens, enabled them to display their
martial genius, and transmit their fame
to posterity. You have persevered un
til these United States, aided by a
magnanimous king and nation, have
been enabled, under a just Providence,
to close the war in freedom, safety, and
independence ; on which happy event
we sincerely join you in congratulations.
" Having defended the standard of
liberty in this new world, having
taught a lesson useful to those who
inflict and to those who feel oppression,
you retire from the great theatre of
action with the blessings of your fel
low-citizens. But the glory of your
virtues will not terminate with your
military command ; it will continue to
animate remotest ages.

294

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

. .. " We feel with you our obligations
to the army in general, and will par
ticularly charge ourselves with the in
terests of those confidential officers who
have attended your person to this af
fecting moment.
"We join you in commending the
interests of our dearest country to the
protection of Almighty God, beseech
ing him to dispose the hearts and minds
of its citizens to improve the oppor
tunity afforded them of becoming a
happy and respectable nation. And
for you, we address to him our earnest
prayers that a life so beloved may be
fostered with all his care ; that your
days may be as happy as they have
been illustrious ; and that he will final
ly give you that reward which this
world cannot give."
This scene being closed, a scene ren
dered peculiarly interesting by the per
sonages who appeared in it, by the
great events it recalled to the memory,
and by the singularity of the circum
stances under which it was displayed,
the American chief withdrew from the
hall of Congress, leaving the silent and
admiring spectators deeply impressed
with those sentiments which its solem
nity and dignity were calculated to
inspire. Divested of his military character,
Washington on the following day set
out for Mount Vernon, to which favor
ite residence he now retired, followed
by the enthusiastic love, esteem, and
admiration of his countrymen. Re

lieved from the agitations of a doubtful
contest, and from the toils of an ex
alted station, he returned with increased
delight to the duties and the enjoy
ments of a private citizen. He indulged
the hope that in the shade of retire
ment, under the protection of a free
government, and the benignant influ
ence of mild and equal laws, he might
taste that felicity which is the reward
of a mind at peace with itself and con
scious of its own purity.*
° Gordon thus notices the settlement of Washington's
accounts with the government.
" Though General Washington was not stayed in his
progress to Philadelphia, by the Congress, who, on the
1st of November, had elected the Honorable Thomas
Mifflin president, and three days after had adjourned to
meet at Annapolis in Maryland on the 26th ; yet it was
the 8th of December, at noon, before General Washing
ton arrived at the Capital of Pennsylvania. When his
intention of quitting the army was known, he was com
plimented and received with the utmost respect and
affection, by all orders of men, both civil and military.
He remained some days in Philadelphia. While in the
city he delivered in his accounts to the comptroller,
down to December the 13th, aU in his own handwriting,
and every entry made in the most particular manner,
stating the occasion of each charge, so as to give the
least trouble in examining and comparing them with
the vouchers with which they were attended.
The heads are as follows, copied from the folio manu
script paper book, in the file of the treasury office, No.
3700, being a black box of tin containing, under lock
and key, both that and the vouchers :
Total of expenditures from 1775 to 1788, exclusive of
provisions lrom commissaries and contractors, and of £. 8. d.
liquors, &c, from them and others  8837 14 4
Secret intelligence and service*  1982 10 0
Spent in reconnoitering and travelling  1874 88
Miscellaneous charges  2952 10 1
Expended besides, dollars according to the scale of depre
ciation  6114 14 0

£16,811 17 1
Note— 104,864 of the dollars were received after March, 1780, and
although credited 40 for one, many did not fetch at the rate of »
* 200 guineas advanced to General M'Dougal are not included in
the £19S2 10, not being yet settled, but included in some of the
other charges, and so reckoned in the general sum.

Chap, XXIV.]

CLOSE OF THE WAR.

295

hundred for one, while 27,775 of them are returned without deduct
ing any thing from the above account (and therefore actually made a
present of to the public).
(General "Washington's account) from June, 1775, to £. e. d.
the end of June, 1783  16,311 17 1
Expenditure from July 1, 1733, to Dec. 13  1717 5 4
(Added afterwards) from thence to Dec. 28  213 8 4
Mrs. Washington's travelling expenses in coming to
the General and returning  1064 10
£19,306 11 9
Lawful money of Virginia, the same as the Massachusetts, or
£14,479 18 9} sterling.
The General entered in his book — ' I find upon the
final adjustment of these accounts, that I am a con
siderable loser — my disbursements falling a good deal
short of my receipts, and the money I had upon hand
of my own ; for besides the sums I carried with me to
Cambridge in 1775, I received moneys afterwards on pri

vate account in 1777 and since, which (except small sums
that I had occasion now and then to apply to private
uses) were all expended in the public service : through
hurry, I suppose, and the perplexity of business (for I
know not how else to account for the deficiency) I have
omitted to charge the same, whilst every debit against me
is here credited. July 1, 1783.'
Happy would it have been for the United States had
each person who has handled public money been equally
exact and punctual !
General Washington, after delivering in his accounts,
hastened to Annapolis, where he arrived on the evening
of the 19th December."
A fac-simile of the original account, filling many fools
cap pages, has been published ; and copies were eagerly
ordered hy collectors in Europe as well as the United
States.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER XXIY.

[A.]
COMMODORE BAENET.
Joshua Barney was born in Baltimore, in
the State of Maryland, on the 6th of July, 1759.
His parents lived on a farm between the town
and North Point, where he was sent to school
until ten years of age, by which time he had
learned all his master could teach, reading, wri
ting, and arithmetic. He was then put into a
retail store at Alexandria; but soon became
tired of that occupation. In 1771 he came to
Baltimore on a visit, and insisted on going to
sea, which he always had an inclination for.
He went out in a pilot-boat with a friend of his
father, for several months. He was then bound
an apprentice to Captain Thomas Drisdale, and
sailed with him in a brig to Ireland. They
arrived at the cove of Cork, after a rough pas
sage, where they remained two days, and then
proceeded to Liverpool. The vessel being sold,
young Barney returned home by the way of
Dublin. Shortly after his return his father died,
having been shot by the accidental discharge of
a pistol in the hands of a brother, a child of
seven years of age. He made a voyage to
Cadiz and Genoa, and in 1775 sailed for Italy.
The captain being sick, and the mate having
been discharged, the whole duty fell on young
Barney, although not sixteen years of age. In
July, 1775, he repaired to Aticant, at the time
the Spaniards were preparing an expedition
against Algiers. His ship was taken in the
transport service. The expedition failed, and
he returned to America. On his arrival in the
Chesapeake Bay, the 1st of October, 1776, his
vessel was boarded by the sloop-of-war King

Fisher, and informed of the battle of Bunker
Hill. The ship was searched, and all the letters
and arms were taken from her. On arriving in
Baltimore the ship was laid up. Thus he had
been a captain eight months, and had gone
through some very difficult scenes. He was
only a little over sixteen years of age. At this
period, finding the whole country had taken up
arms against the injustice of England, his breast
soon caught the flame. He obtained the situa
tion of master's-mate in the sloop Hornet, com
manded by Captain William Stone ; and on
receiving a flag from Commodore Hopkins, he
placed it on a staff, and with drums and fifes
beat up for volunteers, and in one day engaged
a crew for their vessel. This was the first flag
of the United States seen in the State of Mary
land, and Barney claimed some credit for carry
ing it. In November, 1775, they sailed in
company with the schooner Wasp, to join Com
modore Hopkins in the Delaware, where they
arrived in a few days, passing the enemy's
squadron, which was lying in Hampton Roads.
The American fleet consisted of two frigates,
two brigs, and four sloops. They sailed to
New Providence, one of the Bahama Islands.
The town and fort surrendered, with the ships
and vessels in the harbor, without resistance.
The cannon, powder, mortars, shells, &o., were
secured, and the island given up again. On
their return they had bad weather, but they
got into the Delaware with some difficulty.
In 1776, Barney embarked in the schooner
Wasp, under the orders of Captain Charles
Alexander, a brave Scotchman, and they con
voyed off the coast the vessel in which Dr.
Franklin was going to Europe. The Wasp
| returned into Cape May channel with great

Chap. XXIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

297

hazard, as the English ships Roebuck of forty-
four guns, and Liverpool of twenty-eight guns,
lay in the roads. As the Wasp returned up
the bay she was chased by the Roebuck and
Liverpool, but she got into Wilmington creek.
The next morning several row galleys went
down from Philadelphia, under Commodore
Hazlewood, and attacked the British ships.
The captain of the Wasp took advantage of
the cannonade to come out, and he attacked
and took the brig Tender from the British,
although under the guns of the enemy. The
Americans took her into a port of New Jersey.
This little affair was thought a bold one; but
they had afterwards harder fighting, for, get
ting under the enemy's guns in a fog, they with
difficulty succeeded in joining the galleys, which
fought all day. Barney joined one of the ves
sels which wanted hands, and had his share of
fighting. He was now sent on board the sloop
Sachem, then fitting out, as commanding officer,
and he was complimented for his conduct on
the Delaware by Robert Morris, president of
the Marine Committee, who presented him with
a lieutenant's commission. He was then not sev
enteen years of age. In this capacity he sailed
in the Sachem under Captain Isaiah Robinson,
and they had not been long out when they
captured an English brig, after a severe action
of two hours. A large turtle on board, intend
ed for Lord North, was presented to Mr. Mor
ris, after young Barney brought the prize into
port. The Sachem and Andrew Doria, of four
teen guns, with the Lexington, Captain Barry,
departed for the West Indies. On their return
they captured a sloop of twelve guns, after an
action of two hours, cutting her to pieces. It
was the sloop Race Horse, tender to Admiral
Parker's fleet at Jamaica, sent to take the
Sachem and Andrew Doria. The next prize
was a snow from Jamaica, on board which
Barney was sent as prize-master. His difficul
ties began here, for being several days in a
heavy gale of wind, and the sea breaking over
the vessel so as to oblige them to stay in the
tops, he was captured by the Perseus of twenty
guns. Being ill treated by the purser of the
Perseus, Barney knocked him down the hatch
way, which met the approbation of the captain

of the British vessel, who exchanged his pris
oners at Charleston, South Carolina. On their
way to Philadelphia on horseback, Barney and
his companions annoyed the tories whenever
they found an opportunity, making them drink
success to Congress, &c.
In the spring of 1777, Barney again joined
the Andrew Doria, and took part in the defence
of the Delaware. The American force consisted
of the Delaware frigate of thirty-two guns, and
several small vessels, all under Commodore
Hazlewood. They were stationed at Mud Island
or Fort Mifflin, which was commanded by Lieu
tenant-colonel Samuel Smith, afterwards a mem
ber of the Senate of the United States, from
Maryland. All the summer the war was carried
on with great rigor in the neighborhood ; but
in the fall the fort was necessarily given up, and
the fleet destroyed. Barney was ordered to
Baltimore to join the Virginia frigate, Captain
Nicholson. In attempting to get the frigate to
sea, the pilot ran her on shore in the night, and
was captured by the British. In August, 1778,
Barney was exchanged for the lieutenant of the
Mermaid frigate ; but on going to Baltimore,
where he took command of a schooner with two
guns and eight men, he was again taken in the
bay by a privateer of four large guns and sixty
men. The United States, at this time, having
no vessels out of the Middle States, Barney ac
cepted the offer of his old friend and com
mander, Captain Robinson, in November, 1778,
to go out with him from Alexandria in a ship,
with a letter of marque. She had twelve guns,
but little powder, and only thirty-five men.
When three days out, in the night, they fell in
with the privateer Rosebud, Captain Duncan,
full of men, with which they had a running
fight all night, killed and wounded forty-seven
of their men, and got off with only one man
wounded. They arrived at Bordeaux, took a
cargo of brandy, mounted eighteen guns, and
shipped seventy men. On their return they
made a valuable prize, after a running fight of
near two clays. Barney took command of the
prize, and arrived safe in Philadelphia, in Octo
ber, 1779.
In 1780 he married a most estimable woman,
the daughter of Alderman Bedford. The foi-

298

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

lowing month he proceeded to Baltimore, hav
ing all his fortune with him in paper money, in
his gig-box : on arriving, he found he had been
robbed of every cent he had in the world. He
returned to Philadelphia without mentioning
his loss, and soon after went into service on
board the United States ship Saratoga, of six
teen guns, commanded by Captain John Young.
In a few days after going to sea, they captured
a ship of twelve guns. Soon after they took a
ship mounting thirty-two guns, ninety men, and
two brigs, having boarded the first, running up
under English colors. Barney was afterwards
taken by the Intrepid, seventy-four, Captain
Malloy, who treated his prisoners with great
barbarity. In 1780, Barney and seventy other
prisoners, at New York, were sent on board
the Yarmouth, seventy-four, and ordered to
England by Admiral Rodney. They were con
fined under five decks, in a place three feet
high, twelve feet long, and twenty feet wide,
without light, and were fifty-three days on the
rjassage. Eleven died from the filth and the
fever getting among them, and when they land
ed at Plymouth, the survivors were very feeble
and emaciated, covered with vermin, and so
weak they could hardly stand, or their eyes
bear the light. After remaining some time in
a prison-ship, they were sent to Mill Prison,
where they found between two and three hun
dred other rebels, as they were called. They
gave their jailers a good deal of trouble, by dig
ging, undermining, cutting bars, &c, and some
escaped. Barney was suspected, and was put in
the dungeon thirty days, loaded with heavy
irons. By the assistance of a soldier who had
been in America, on the 18th May, 1781, he
escaped in an English officer's undress uniform.
After being taken, he again escaped, and went
to Bristol and London. He also visited Am
sterdam, Rotterdam, and the Hague. He ar
rived in Philadelphia in March following, after
an absence of nineteen months. When a few
days in the bosom of his family, the State of
Pennsylvania gave him the command of the
Hyder Aii, a small ship of sixteen guns, and
one hundred and ten men. Thirteen days after
he proceeded with a convoy down the bay, and
was lying in Cape May road, waiting for a

wind. The following are the particulars of the
action between the Hyder Aii, Captain Bar
ney, and the General Monk, Captain Rogers,
furnished by a gentleman well acquainted with
the particulars :
"April 8th, 1782, at ten a. m., lying at an
chor under Cape May (Delaware), discovered
three sail standing in from sea, with a light
wind from the eastward ; at eleven, perceived
that they were a frigate, a ship, a sloop-of-war,
and an armed brig. At meridian, the frigate
stood for Cape Henlopen channel, the ship and
brig standing in for Cape May ; made a signal
for our convoy to get under weigh, and stand
up the bay: we then got under weigh, and fol
lowed the convoy. At one p. m. the ship and
brig came into the bay, by Cape May channel,
the frigate coming round under Cape Henlopen ;
prepared for action, all hands to quarters. At
three quarters past one the brig passed us, after
giving us two fires. We reserved our fire for
the ship, then fast coming up. We received very
little damage from the brig, who stood after our
convoy : she mounted sixteen guns, and was
formerly the American privateer ' Fair Ameri
can,' commanded by Captain Decatur, and equal
to us in force. At two p. m. the ship ranged up
on our starboard quarter, and fired two guns at
us ; we were then at good pistol-shot ; we then
attempted to run her on board, by laying her
across the starboard bow, but our yard-arms
locked, which kept us too far off to board ; at
the same time poured in our broadside from
great guns and small-arms. Our fire was brisk
ly kept up for twenty-six minutes, when she
struck her colors. Immediately sent our first
lieutenant on board, and stood up the bay, the
frigate at this time under a press of sail in chase
after us, and the brig ahead in chase of our con
voy : again prepared for action, and stood after
the brig, but on her perceiving that the ship
had struck, she stood for the frigate, and got
aground : we were obliged to pass her, as the
frigate gained upon us. At four p. m. the frigate
came to anchor in the bay (supposed for want
of a pilot). We then spoke the prize for the
first time, and learned she was His Majesty's
ship the General Monk, Captain Rogers, of
nineteen nine-pounders, but fighting twenty

Chap. XXIV.]

DOCUMENT.

299

guns, and had on board, when the action began,
one hundred and thirty-six men, of whom thirty
were killed, and fifty-three wounded. Of six
teen officers on board, fifteen were killed or
wounded. The captain received three wounds.
We had on board the Hyder Aii four killed,
and eleven wounded. The Hyder Aii mounted
twelve six-pounders and four nine-pounders, with
a complement of one hundred and fifteen men.
During the action we fired thirteen broadsides
from our cannon, and from sixty to seventy
rounds from our muskets. Proportion of metal :
The General Monk, ten nine-pounders, fired
ninety weight of shot at one broadside. The
Hyder Aii, six sixes and two nines, fired fifty-
four weight of shot at one broadside. Propor
tion — fifty to ninety. On arriving at Philadel
phia with the prize, the wounded had every care
taken of them. The legislature of Pennsylva
nia voted him a sword for this gallant exploit,
which was presented him by the governor."
A gentleman who was on board the vessels
after their arrival at Philadelphia, gives the fol
lowing particulars :
" I was then in Philadelphia, quite a lad, when
the action took place. Both ships arrived at the
lower part of the city with a leading wind, im
mediately after the action, bringing with them
all their killed and wounded. Attracted to the
wharf by the salute which the Hyder Aii fired,
of thirteen guns, which was then the custom
(one for each State), I saw the two ships lying
in the stream, anchored near each other. In a
short time, however, they warped into the wharf
to land their killed and wounded ; and curiosity
induced me, as well as many others, to go on
board each vessel. The Hyder Aii was, as
stated, a small ship of sixteen six-pounders. The
Monk, a king's ship of large dimensions, of
eighteen nine-pounders. The difference in the
size and equipments of the two ships was matter
of astonishment to all the beholders. The Gen
eral Monk's decks were, in every direction, be
smeared with blood, covered with the dead and
wounded, and resembled a charnel-house. Sev
eral of her bow-ports were knocked into one — a
plain evidence of the well-directed fire of the
Hyder AH. She was a king's ship, a very su
perior vessel, a fast sailer, and coppered to the

bends. I was on board during the time they
carried on shore the killed and wounded, which
they did in hammocks.
" I was present at a conversation which took
place on the quarter-deck of the General Monk,
between Captain Barney and several merchants
in Philadelphia. I remember one of them ob
serving, ' Why, Captain Barney, you have been
truly fortunate in capturing this vessel, consid
ering she is so far superior to you in point
of size, guns, men, and metal.' ' Yes, sir,' he
replied, ' I do consider myself fortunate. When
we were about to engage, it was the opinion of
myself, as well as my crew, that she would have
blown us to atoms, but we were determined she
should gain her victory dearly.' One of the
wounded British sailors observed, ' Yes, sir, Cap
tain Rogers observed to our crew, a little before
the action commenced, " Now, my boys, we shall
have the Yankee ship in five minutes ;" and so
we all thought, but here we are.' "
The General Monk was sold, and bought by
Mr. Morris for the United States, and the com
mand given to Barney, who sailed with sealed
orders in November, 1782, with dispatches to
Dr. Franklin, in Paris. He was well received
at the French court. He returned to Philadel
phia with a valuable loan from the French king,
a large sum of money in chests of gold and bar
rels of silver, and carried with him a passport
signed by the king of England, and the informa
tion that the preliminaries of peace were signed.
Thus closed his public career, being among
the first to enter and the last to quit the ser
vice. The character of our work will not permit us
to give all the interesting particulars of Barney's
life. Suffice to say, great indeed was the vari
ety of service in which he was engaged in the
Revolutionary War, and as fluctuating his suc
cesses and his misfortunes. A captive to-day,
to-morrow he triumphed in the arms of victory ;
but, in all situations, and under every change,
however eventful, supported a character of un
blemished honor, and of an intrepidity that could
not be exceeded.
After the termination of the Revolutionary
War, he commenced business, and purchased a
tract of land in Kentucky, which he meant to be

300

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

a last resort for his family. In 1786, 1787, and
1788, he visited South Carolina, Georgia, and
the western country. On his return, he took an
active part in the adoption of the Constitution.
In 1789, finding his health impaired by his ser
vices, he embarked for South America, and ar
rived at Caithagena in a small brig belonging
to himself and partner. Thence he went to Ha
vana, and then home. In 1792 he sailed again,
and arrived at Cape Francois. While there the
town was burnt, and he was obliged to fight his
way. He brought off fifty or sixty miserable
women and children. His vessel was captured
by an English privateer brig, two others in com
pany. Three officers and eleven men were put
on board, and all the Americans taken out, ex
cept Barney, the carpenter, boatswain, and
cook. They were ordered for New Providence.
The keys of the iron-chest were demanded, but
Barney would not deliver them, which occa
sioned much abuse and ill treatment. He had
concealed a small blunderbuss, and his men some
other arms, with which they took an opportu
nity of retaking the ship. Two of the English
officers were wounded. The men were after
wards made to work the ship, until they arrived
at Baltimore. Barney was compelled, for his
own safety, to sleep on the quarter-deck in his
armchair. He again sailed for Cape Francois
in 1793 : on his return he was again captured
by an English brig, and taken to Jamaica.
When he arrived at Kingston he was committed
to prison, and bills were found against him for
piracy. His ship and cargo were condemned.
He then returned home ; and in 1794 was offered
the command of a frigate, but declined the offer.
After this he accompanied Mr. Monroe, after
wards president of the United States, to France,
and was the bearer of the American flag to the
National Convention. He received the embrace
of the president of the convention, and a vote
was passed that he should be employed in the
navy of the republic. He declined at that time,
but in 1795 accepted a commission as captain.
In 1796 he arrived at Norfolk with two frigates.
An English squadron blockaded him for a con
siderable time. He offered to go out and fight
an equal force, but the English declined. By
deceiving the British, he made his escape, and

returned to France. In 1800 he left the French
service, and returned to America. In 1805 he
was offered the superintendence of the Navy
Yard at Washington, but declined. In 1806 he
offered for Congress, but was defeated. In 1808
he offered for Congress, but was again defeated,
through the machinations of his enemies.
In 1812, he had removed into the country, on
Elkridge, and in June, when war was declared
against Great Britain,, he offered his services to
the general government, and at the same time
engaged in a fine schooner to make a cruise, pri
vateering. He was very successful, having cap
tured eighteen sail, most of which were burnt or
sunk ; several of them were of greater force
than the privateer, and fought hard. In July,
1813, when at Newport, Rhode Island, attend
ing the sale of some prizes, he received an offer
of the command of the flotilla for the defence of
the Chesapeake. On his proceeding to Wash
ington, he found his old enemies had written
letters to the secretary of the navy, insulting to
his feelings, which he resented by calling out the
writer, a merchant of Baltimore, who, in the af
fair, had a bullet through his breast ; which,
however, he survived. In the spring of 1814,
the flotilla consisted of twenty-six barges and
nine hundred men, with which the commodore
proceeded down the bay, intending to attack the
enemy's black establishment at Tangier Island ;
but falling in with their squadron off the Pa-
tuxent, he was obliged to run in there. During
the summer he kept up an active warfare with
the enemy, attacking them whenever he had an
opportunity, in some instances lying under the
fire of the frigates for several hours. He de
stroyed several of their small craft, and men, be
sides injuring their large vessels, when his shot
would reach them. On the 1st of July, the
commodore was ordered to Washington, to con
sult about the expected invasion, and the means
of defending the capital. He returned to the
flotilla on the 3d, and removed higher up the
river. On the 16th of August the enemy en
tered the Patuxent, and an express was for
warded to the secretary of the navy. The com
modore landed most of his men, and marched
them towards Washington on the 21st, and
joined General Winder at the Woodyard, where

Chap. XXIV.]

DOCUMENT.

he found Captain Miller and his marines, with
five pieces of artillery, which were placed under
his command. On the 23d the troops were re
viewed by the president. The enemy, the next
day, were within three miles of the camp, and
some skirmishing took place. The commodore
proceeded with his force to the city, crossed the
eastern branch, and put up that night in the
marine barracks, with orders to protect the
bridge. At about 11 a.m. of the 24th, hearing the en
emy had proceeded on to Bladensburg, and
meeting the president, &c, he begged to be al
lowed to quit the bridge and join the army,
which was allowed, and he immediately set out
for Bladensburg, with his guns and his men.
Within a mile of that town he found the army
drawn up in detached parties, and the engage
ment had begun. His men came up at a trot,
the weather excessively hot. They had hardly
time to take the limbers from the guns and form,
when he perceived our army in full retreat, and
the enemy advancing. He was in hopes the first
line would again form near him, but was disap
pointed. At length the enemy appeared, and he
gave orders to wait until they were near enough.
He pointed the guns and remounted. The en
emy tried their rockets, and then advanced.
They received a fire of round and grape shot,
which cleared the road. Grape and canister
cleared it a second time. They then left the
road and took to the field in front and on the
right. They were met there by the marines and
sailors with muskets, and the cannon with grape
and canister. Colonel Thornton, Colonel Woods,
and several officers of the enemy, fell in the
charge. The American army, by this time, had
to a man disappeared ; the commodore, how
ever, kept up his fire. The English sharp
shooters had straggled about, and were doing
much mischief. Barney's horse fell between two
of his guns, pierced by two balls : several of his
officers were killed and wounded : the ammuni
tion wagon had gone off in the general confu
sion and retreat of the army : the enemy began
to flank out to the right, under cover of a thick
wood, and had nearly surrounded the commo
dore. His men were nearly exhausted, having
undergone a three days' march without a regular
Vol. II.— 39

supply of provisions. He had received a wound
in the thigh some time before, and was faint from
loss of blood, when he ordered a retreat, which
was effected in good order by the men and such
officers as could follow. He retired a few yards,
when he fell from weakness ; in which situation
he was found by the enemy. General Ross and
Admiral Cockburn came to him, and, in the most
polite manner, tendered him every assistance.
He was carried in a litter to Bladensburg. Cap
tain Miller was also carried to the same house,
badly wounded. Thus the battle ended. On
the 26th of August he found the enemy had re
treated, leaving eighty wounded officers and
men. The next day, Mrs. Barney, his surgeon,
and one of his sons came to Bladensburg, and,
after a night's rest, carried him home in a car
riage and bed brought for that purpose. The
ball had been probed for by the English surgeons,
but without effect ; his surgeon was equally un
successful, and it was never got out. On the
7th of October he was sufficiently recovered to
proceed to Washington, and was sent with a
flag of truce to the enemy's fleet in the Chesa
peake, to exchange prisoners. He calculated
the enemy lost, in killed, wounded, and priso
ners, in their attack on Washington, eleven hun
dred men. Our loss did not exceed sixty, fifty
of which were marines and flotilla men. On the
10th of October he resumed his command. The
corporation of Washington voted him a sword.
He was preparing the barges for a spring cam
paign when the news of peace arrived. The
legislature of Georgia gave the commodore a
vote of thanks for his conduct at Washington.
On the 10th of May he was again sent for by
the secretary of the navy, and requested to un
dertake a mission to Europe ; and he sailed the
25th from Baltimore, arrived at Plymouth, thence
went to London, and sailed the 9th of August
from Gravesend ; arrived at Baltimore 13th of
October, but found his wound crippled him so
completely, he was obliged to send his dis
patches by his son. He remained at his farm
until his strength was renovated ; he then re
moved his family to Baltimore, where he re
mained some months. Finding it necessary to
form an establishment more independent than
the one he now possessed, he looked towards

302

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

Kentucky as the place of final settlement, and
paid it a visit, carrying out his wife with him.
On the road he received the most gratifying at
tentions from all classes, and his reception in
that hospitable State was such that he only re
turned to Maryland to settle his business and
pack up his furniture, which, with his wagons,
horses, servants, and every thing necessary for
farming and housekeeping, he sent ahead, and
followed with his family. At Brownstown he
embarked his baggage in boats, but unfortu
nately the season had been remarkably dry, and
he was detained a long time on the river. At
Pittsburg he had got every thing on board, and
was ready to sail the next morning, the water
having risen, when in his boat he was taken ill.
The combined effect of fatigue, exposure, and
the irritation kept up by the ball in his thigh,
contributed very much to hasten his death.
He died on the 1st day of December, 1818,
in the 60th year of his age. It is unnecessary
to say his funeral was attended by a great con
course of people, and received all the honors the
city of Pittsburg could afford.

[B.]
WASHINGTON'S CIRCULAR LETTER TO THE GOV
ERNORS OF ALL THE STATES ON DISBANDING
THE ARMY. " Head-qtjaetebs, Newburg, June 18, 1783.
" Sik: — The object for which I had the honor
to hold an appointment in the service of my
country being accomplished, I am now prepar
ing to resign it into the hands of Congress, and
return to that domestic retirement, which, it is
well known, I left with the greatest reluctance ;
a retirement for which I have never ceased to
sigh through a long and painful absence, in
which (remote from the noise and trouble of
the world) I meditate to pass the remainder of
life, in a state of undisturbed repose : but, be
fore I carry this resolution into effect, I think it
a duty incumbent on me to make this my last
official communication, to congratulate you on
the glorious events which Heaven has been
pleased to produce in our favor ; to offer my
sentiments respecting some important subjects,

which appear to me to be intimately connected
with the tranquillity of the United States ; to
take my leave of your Excellency as a public
character ; and to give my final blessing to
that country in whose service I have spent the
prime of my life, for whose sake I have con
sumed so many anxious days and watchful
nights, and whose happiness, being extremely
dear to me, will always constitute no incon
siderable part of my own.
"Impressed with the liveliest sensibility on
this pleasing occasion, I will claim the indul
gence of dilating the more copiously on the
subject of our mutual felicitation. When we
consider the magnitude of the prize we con
tended for, the doubtful nature of the contest,
and the favorable manner in which it has ter
minated, we shall find the greatest possible
reason for gratitude and rejoicing. This is a
theme that will afford infinite delight to every
benevolent and liberal mind, whether the event
in contemplation be considered as a source of
present enjoyment, or the parent of future hap
piness ; and we shall have equal occasion to
felicitate ourselves on the lot which Providence
has assigned us, whether we view it in a natural,
a political, or moral point of light.
"The citizens of America, placed in the most
enviable condition, as the sole lords and pro
prietors of a vast tract of continent, compre
hending all the various soils and climates of the
world, and abounding with all the necessaries
and conveniences of life, are now, by the late
satisfactory pacification, acknowledged to be
possessed of absolute freedom and independ
ency : they are from this period to be con
sidered as the actors on a most conspicuous
theatre, which seems to be peculiarly designed
by Providence for the display of human great
ness and felicity. Here they are not only sur
rounded with every thing that can contribute
to the completion of private and domestic en
joyment; but Heaven has crowned all its other
blessings, by giving a surer opportunity for
political happiness, than any other nation has
ever been favored with. Nothing can illustrate
these observations more forcibly than a recol
lection of the happy conjuncture of times and
circumstances under which our republic assumed

Chap. XXIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

303

its rank among the nations. The foundation
of our empire was not laid in a gloomy age of
ignorance and superstition, but at an epoch
when the rights of mankind were better under
stood and more clearly defined, than at any
former period. Researches of the human mind
after social happiness have been carried to a
great extent; the treasures of knowledge ac
quired by the labors of philosophers, sages, and
legislators, through a long succession of years,
are laid open for us, and their collected wisdom
may be happily applied in the establishment of
our forms of government. The free cultivation
of letters, the unbounded extension of com
merce, the progressive refinement of manners,
the growing liberality of sentiment ; and, above
all, the pure and benign light of revelation,
have had a meliorating influence on mankind,
and increased the blessings of society. At this
auspicious period, the United States came into
existence as a nation ; and if their citizens should
not be completely free and happy, the fault will
be entirely their own.
"Such is our situation, and such are our pros
pects. But notwithstanding the cup of blessing
is thus reached out to us ; notwithstanding hap
piness is ours, if we have a disposition to seize
the occasion, and make it our own ; yet it ap
pears to me there is an option still left to the
United States of America, whether they will
be respectable and prosperous, or contemptible
and miserable as a nation. This is the time of
their political probation ; this is the moment
when the eyes of the whole world are turned
upon them ; this is the time to establish or ruin
their national character forever ; this is the
favorable 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
ill-fated moment for relaxing the powers of the
union, annihilating the cement of the confedera
tion, and exposing us to become the sport of
European politics, which may play one State
against another, to prevent their growing im
portance, and to serve their own interested
purposes. For, according to the system of
policy the States shall adopt at this moment,
they will stand or fall ; and, by their confirma
tion or lapse, it is yet to be decided, whether

the Revolution must ultimately be considered
as a blessing or a curse ; — a blessing or a curse,
not to the present age alone, for with our fate
will the destiny of unborn millions be involved.
" With this conviction of the importance of
the present crisis, silence in me would be a
crime; I will therefore speak to your Excel
lency the language of freedom and sincerity,
without disguise. I am aware, however, those
who differ from me in political sentiments may,
perhaps, remark, I am stepping out of the
proper line of my duty ; and they may possi
bly ascribe to arrogance or ostentation, what I
know is alone the result of the purest intention.
But the rectitude of my own heart, which dis
dains such unworthy motives; the part I have
hitherto acted in life ; the determination I have
formed of not taking any share in public busi
ness hereafter ; the ardent desire I feel, and
shall continue to manifest, of quietly enjoying
in private life, after all the toils of war, the
benefits of a wise and liberal government, will,
I flatter myself, sooner or later, convince my
countrymen, that I could have no sinister views
in delivering with so little reserve the opinions
contained in this address.
" There are four things which I humbly con
ceive are essential to the well-being, I may even
venture to say to the existence, of the United
States as an independent power.
" 1st. An indissoluble union of the States
under one federal head.
" 2dly. A sacred regard to public justice.
" 3dly. The adoption of a proper peace es
tablishment. And,
" 4thly. The prevalence of that pacific and
friendly disposition among the people of the
United States, which will induce them to forget
their local prejudices and policies ; to make
those mutual concessions which are requisite to
the general prosperity; and, in some instan
ces, to sacrifice their individual advantages to
the interest of the community.
" These are the pillars on which the glorious
fabric of our independency and national char
acter must be supported. Liberty is the basis •
and whoever would dare to sap the founda
tion, or overturn the structure, under what
ever specious pretext he may attempt it, will

304

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

merit the bitterest execration, and the severest
punishment, which can be inflicted by his in
jured country.
" On the three first articles I will make a few
observations ; leaving the last to the good sense
and serious consideration of those immediately
concerned. " Under the first head, although it may not
be necessary or proper for me in this place to
enter into a particular disquisition of the prin
ciples of the union, and to take up the great
question which has been frequently agitated,
whether it be expedient and requisite for the
States to delegate a larger portion of power to
Congress, or not ; yet it will be a part of my
duty, and that of every true patriot, to assert,
without reserve, and to insist upon the follow
ing positions : — That unless the States will suffer
Congress to exercise those prerogatives they are
undoubtedly invested with by the Constitution,
every thing must very rapidly tend to anarchy
and confusion : That it is indispensable to the
happiness of the individual States, that there
should be lodged, somewhere, a supreme power
to regulate and govern the general concerns of
the confederated Republic, without which the
union cannot be of long duration : That there
must be a faithful and pointed compliance on
the part of every State with the late proposals
and demands of Congress, or the most fatal
consequences will ensue : That whatever meas
ures have a tendency to dissolve the union, or
contribute to violate or lessen the sovereign
authority, ought to be considered as hostile to
the liberty and independency of America, and
the authors of them treated accordingly. And,
lastly, that unless we can be enabled by the
concurrence of the States to participate of the
fruits of the Revolution, and enjoy the essential
benefits of civil society, under a form of gov
ernment so free and uncorrupted, so happily
guarded against the danger of oppression, as
has been devised and adopted by the articles of
confederation, it will be a subject of regret that
so much blood and treasure have been lavished
for no purpose; that so many sufferings have
been encountered without a compensation ; and
that so many sacrifices have been made in vain.
Many other considerations might here be ad

duced to prove, that without an entire con
formity to the spirit of the union, we cannot
exist as an independent power. It will be
sufficient for my purpose to mention but one or
two, which seem to me of the greatest impor
tance. It is only in our united character, as an
empire, that our independence is acknowledged,
that our power can be regarded, or our credit
supported among foreign nations. The treaties
of the European powers with the United States
of America, will have no validity on a dissolu
tion of the union. We shall be left nearly in a
state of nature ; or we may find, by our own
unhappy experience, that there is a natural and
necessary progression from the extreme of anar
chy to the extreme of tyranny ; and that arbi
trary power is most easily established on the
ruins of liberty abused to licentiousness.
"As to the second article, which respects the
performance of public justice, Congress have, in
their late address to the United States, almost
exhausted the subject; they have explained their
ideas so fully, and have enforced the obligations
the States are under to render complete justice
to all the public creditors, with so much dignity
and energy, that, in my opinion, no real friend
to the honor and independency of America can
hesitate a single moment respecting the pro
priety of complying with the just and honorable
measures proposed. If their arguments do not
produce conviction, I know of nothing that will
have greater influence, especially when we re
flect that the system referred to, being the re
sult of the collected wisdom of the continent,
must be esteemed, if not perfect, certainly the
least objectionable of any that could be devised ;
and that, if it should not be carried into imme
diate execution, a national bankruptcy, with all
its deplorable consequences, will take place be
fore any different plan can possibly be proposed
or adopted : so pressing are the present circum
stances, and such is the alternative now offered
to the States.
" The ability of the country to discharge the
debts which have been incurred in its defence,
is not to be doubted ; and inclination, I flatter
myself, will not be wanting. The path of our
duty is plain before us ; honesty will be found,
on every experiment, to be the best and only

Chap. XXIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

305

true policy. Let us then, as a nation, be just;
let us fulfil the public contracts which Congress
had undoubtedly a right to make for the pur
pose of carrying on the war, with the same good
faith we suppose ourselves bound to perform
our private engagements. In the mean time,
let an attention to the cheerful performance of
their proper business, as individuals, and as
members of society, be earnestly inculcated on
the citizens of America ; then will they strength
en the bands of government, and be happy un
der its protection. Every one will reap the
fruit of his labors: every one will enjoy his own
acquisitions, without molestation and without
danger. " In this state of absolute freedom and perfect
security, who will grudge to yield a very little
of his property to support the common interests
of society, and insure the protection of govern
ment ? Who does not remember the frequent
declarations at the commencement of the war,
that we should be completely satisfied, if, at the
expense of one half, we could defend the re
mainder of our possessions ? Where is the man
to be found, who wishes to remain in debt, for
the defence of his own person and property, to
the exertions, the bravery, and the blood of
others, without making one generous effort to
pay the debt of honor and of gratitude ? In
what part of the continent shall we find any
man, or body of men, who would not blush to
stand up and propose measures purposely calcu
lated to rob the soldier of his stipend, and the
public creditor of his due ? And were it possi
ble that such a flagrant instance of injustice
could ever happen, would it not excite the gen
eral indignation, and tend to bring down upon
the authors of such measures the aggravated
vengeance of Heaven ? If, after all, a spirit of
disunion, or a temper of obstinacy and perverse-
ness should manifest itself in any of the States;
if such an ungracious disposition should attempt
to frustrate all the happy effects that might be
expected to flow from the union ; if there should
be a refusal to comply with requisitions for funds
to discharge the annual interest of the public
debts ; and if that refusal should revive all those
jealousies, and produce all those evils, which are
now happily removed, Congress, who have in

all their transactions shown a great degree of
magnanimity and justice, will stand justified in
the sight of God and man ! and that State alone,
which puts itself in opposition to the aggregate
wisdom of the continent, and follows such mis
taken and pernicious councils, will be responsible
for all the consequences.
" For my own part, conscious of having acted,
while a servant of the public, in the manner I
conceived best suited to promote the real inter
ests of my country ; having, in consequence of
my fixed belief, in some measure pledged myself
to the army that their country would finally do
them complete and ample justice ; and not wish
ing to conceal any instance of my official con
duct from the eyes of the world, I have thought
proper to transmit to your Excellency the in
closed collection of papers, relative to the half-
pay and commutation granted by Congress to
the officers of the army. From these commu
nications my decided sentiment will be clearly
comprehended, together with the conclusive
reasons which induced me, at an early period,
to recommend the adoption of this measure in
the most earnest and serious manner. As the
proceedings of Congress, the army, and myself,
are open to all, and contain, in my opinion, suf
ficient information to remove the prejudices and
errors which may have been entertained hy
any, I think it unnecessary to say any thing
more than just to observe, that the resolutions
of Congress now alluded to, are as undoubtedly
and absolutely binding upon the United States,
as the most solemn acts of confederation or
legislation. " As to the idea which, I am informed, has in
some instances prevailed, that the half-pay and
commutation are to be regarded merely in the
odious light of a pension, it ought to be ex
ploded forever : that provision should be view
ed, as it really was, a reasonable compensation
offered by Congress, at a time when they had
nothing else to give to officers of the army, for
services then to be performed. It was the only
means to prevent a total dereliction of the ser
vice. It was a part of their hire ; I may be
allowed to say, it was the price of their blood,
and of your independency. It is therefore more
than a common debt ; it is a debt of honor : it

306

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

can never be considered as a pension, or gratui
ty, nor cancelled until it is fairly discharged.
" With regard to the distinction between offi
cers and soldiers, it is sufficient that the uniform
experience of every nation of the world, com
bined with our own, proves the utility and pro
priety of the discrimination. Rewards in pro
portion to the aid the public draws from them,
are unquestionably due to all its servants. In
some lines, the soldiers have perhaps, generally,
had as ample compensation for their services, by
the large bounties which have been paid them,
as their officers will receive in the proposed
commutation ; in others, if, besides the donation
of land, the payment of arrearages of clothing
and wages (in which articles all the component
parts of the army must be put upon the same
footing), we take into the estimate the bounties
many of the soldiers have received, and the
gratuity of one year's full pay, which is prom
ised to all, possibly their situation (every cir
cumstance being duly considered) will not be
deemed less eligible than that of the officers.
Should a further reward, however, be judged
equitable, I will venture to assert, no man will
enjoy greater satisfaction than myself, — in an ex
emption from taxes for a limited time (which
has been petitioned for in some instances), or
any other adequate immunity or compensation
granted to the brave defenders of their coun
try's cause. But neither the adoption or rejec
tion of this proposition will, in any manner,
affect, much less militate against, the act of
Congress by which they have offered five years'
full pay in lieu of the half-pay for life, which had
been before promised to the officers of the army.
" Before I conclude the subject on public jus
tice, I cannot omit to mention the obligations
this country is under to that meritorious class
of veterans, the non-commissioned officers and
privates, who have been discharged for ina
bility, in consequence of the resolution of Con
gress of the 23d of April, 1782, on an annual
pension for life. Their peculiar sufferings, their
singular merits and claims to that provision,
need only to be known to interest the feelings
of humanity in their behalf. Nothing but a
punctual payment of their annual allowance
can rescue them from the most complicated

misery; and nothing could be a more melan
choly and distressing sight than to behold those
who have shed their blood, or lost their limbs
in the service of their country, without a shel
ter, without a friend, and without the means of
obtaining any of the comforts or necessaries of
life, compelled to beg their bread daily from
door to door. Suffer me to recommend those
of this description, belonging to your State, to
the warmest patronage of your Excellency and
your legislature.
" It is necessary to say but a few words on
the third topic which was proposed, and which
regards particularly the defence of the republic
¦ — as there can be little doubt but Congress will
recommend a proper peace establishment for the
United States, in which a due attention will be
paid to the importance of placing the militia of
the Union upon a regular and respectable foot
ing. If this should be the case, I should beg
leave to urge the great advantage of it in the
strongest terms.
" The militia of this country must be consid
ered as the palladium of our security, and the
first effectual resort in case of hostility. It is
essential, therefore, that the same system should
pervade the whole ; that the formation and dis
cipline of the militia of the continent shonld be
absolutely uniform ; and that the same species
of arms, accoutrements, and military apparatus
should be introduced in every part of the United
States. No one, who has not learned it from
experience, can conceive the difficulty, expense,
and confusion which result from a contrary sys
tem, or the vague arrangements which have
hitherto prevailed.
" If, in treating of political points, a greater
latitude than usual has been taken in the course
of the address, the importance of the crisis, and
the magnitude of the objects in discussion, must
be my apology. It is, however, neither my wish
nor expectation that the preceding observations
should claim any regard, except so far as they
shall appear to be dictated by a good intention,
consonant to the immutable rules of justice, cal
culated to produce a liberal system of policy, and
founded on whatever experience may have been
acquired by a long and close attention to public
business. Here I might speak with more confi-

Chap. XXP7.]

DOCUMENTS.

307

donee, from my actual observations ; and if it
would not swell this letter (already too prolix)
beyond the bounds I had prescribed myself, I
could demonstrate to every mind, open to con
viction, that in less time, and with much less ex
pense than has been incurred, the war might
have been brought to the same happy conclu
sion, if the resources of the continent could have
been properly called forth ; that the distresses
and disappointments which have very often oc
curred have, in too many instances, resulted
more from a want of energy in the continental
government, than a deficiency of means in the
particular States ; that the inefficacy of the
measures, arising from the want of an adequate
authority in the supreme power, from a partial
compliance with the requisitions of Congress in
some of the States, and from a failure of punc
tuality in others, while they tended to damp the
zeal of those who were more willing to exert
themselves, served also to accumulate the ex
penses of the war, and to frustrate the best con
certed plans ; and that the discouragement oo-
sioned by the complicated difficulties and em
barrassments in which our affairs were by this
means involved, would have long ago produced
the dissolution of any army, less patient, less
virtuous, and less persevering than that which I
have had the honor to command. But while I
mention those things which are notorious facts,
as the defects of our federal constitution, par
ticularly in the prosecution of a war, I beg it
may be understood, that as I have ever taken a
pleasure in gratefully acknowledging the assist
ance and support I have derived from every class
of citizens, so shall I always be happy to do jus
tice to the unparalleled exertions of the individ
ual States, on many interesting occasions.
" I have thus freely disclosed what I wished to
make known, before I surrendered up my pub
lic trust to those who committed it to me. The
task is now accomplished. I now bid adieu to
your Excellency, as the chief magistrate of your
State ; at the same time, I bid a last farewell to
the cares of office, and all the employments of
public life.
" It remains, then, to be my final and only re
quest, that your Excellency will communicate
'Jiese sentiments to your legislature at their next

meeting ; and that they may be considered as
the legacy of one who has ardently wished, on
all occasions, to be useful to his country, and
who, even in the shade of retirement, will not
fail to implore the divine benediction upon it.
" I now make it my earnest prayer, that God
would have you, and the State over which you
preside, in his holy protection; that he would
incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a
spirit of subordination and obedience to govern
ment ; to entertain a brotherly affection and love
for one another ; for their fellow-citizens of the
United States at large, and particularly for their
brethren who have served in the field ; and, final
ly, that he would most graciously be pleased to
dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and
to demean ourselves with that charity, humility,
and pacific temper of the mind, which were the
characteristics of the divine Author of our blessed
religion ; without an humble imitation of whose
example, in these things, we can never hope to
be a happy nation.
" I have the honor to be, with much esteem
and respect, sir, your Excellency's most obedient
and most humble servant,
" Geo. Washington."

[C]
On the 3d of September, 1783, the Definitive
Treaty of Peace, between Great Britain and the
United States of America, was signed at Paris,
by David Hartley, Esq., on the part of his Bri
tannic Majesty, and by John Adams, Benjamin
Franklin, and John Jay, Esqs., on the part of
the United States. The treaty was ratified by
Congress early in January, 1784.
In the Name of the Most Holt and Undivided
Trinity.
It having pleased the Divine Providence to
dispose the hearts of the most serene and most
potent prince, George the Third, by the grace
of God King of Great Britain, France, and Ire
land, Defender of the Faith, Duke of Brunswick
and Lunenburg, Arch-Treasurer and Prince Elec
tor of the holy Roman empire, etc., and of the

308

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book IV.

United States of America, to forget all past mis
understandings and differences that have unhap
pily interrupted the good correspondence and
friendship which they mutually wish to restore,
and to establish such a beneficial and satisfactory
intercourse between the two countries, upon the
ground of reciprocal advantages and mutual con
venience, as may promote and secure to both
perpetual peace and harmony ; and having for
this desirable end already laid the foundation of
peace and reconciliation, by the provisional arti
cles signed at Paris, on the 30th of November,
1782, by the commissioners empowered on each
part ; which articles were agreed to be inserted
in, and to constitute the treaty of peace proposed
to be concluded between the crown of Great
Britain and the said United States, but which
treaty was not to be concluded until the terms
of peace should be agreed upon between Great
Britain and France, and his Britannic majesty
should be ready to conclude such treaty accord
ingly; and the treaty between Great Britain and
France having since been concluded, his Bri
tannic majesty and the United States of Ameri
ca, in order to carry into full effect the provi
sional articles above mentioned, according to the
tenor thereof, have constituted and appointed,
that is to say, his Britannic majesty on his part,
David Hartley, Esq., member of the Parliament
of Great Britain ; and the said United States on
their part, John Adams, Esq., late a commis
sioner of the United States of America at the
court of Versailles, late delegate in Congress
from the State of Massachusetts, and chief-jus
tice of the said State, and minister plenipoten
tiary of the said United States to their high
mightinesses the States General of the United
Netherlands ; Benjamin Franklin, Esq., late del
egate in Congress from the State of Pennsyl
vania, president of the Convention of the said
State, and minister plenipotentiary from the
United States of America at the court of Ver
sailles ; and John Jay, Esq., late president of
Congress, and chief-justice of the State of New
York, and minister plenipotentiary from the
said United States at the court of Madrid ; to be
the plenipotentiaries for the concluding and sign
ing the present definitive treaty ; who, after
having reciprocally communicated their respec

tive full powers, have agreed upon and confirmed
the following articles.
Art. I. — His Britannic majesty acknowledges
the said United States, viz., New Hampshire,
Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and Provi
dence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New
Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Vir
ginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Geor
gia, to be free, sovereign, and independent
States ; that he treats them as such, and for
himself, his heirs, and successors, relinquishes all
claim to the government, proprietary, and terri
torial rights of the same, and every part thereof.
Aet. II. — And that all disputes which might
arise in future on the subject of the boundaries
of the said United States may be prevented, it
is hereby agreed and declared that the follow
ing are and shall be their boundaries, viz. : from
the northwest angle of Nova Scotia, viz., that
angle which is formed by a line drawn due north
from the source of St. Croix River to the high
lands which divide those rivers that empty them
selves into the river St. Lawrence from those
which fall into the Atlantic Ocean, to the north-
westernmost head of Connecticut River ; thence
drawn along the middle of that river to the
fort3r-fifth degree of north latitude ; from thence
by a line due west on said latitude, until it strikes
the river Iroquois or Cataraquy ; thence along
the middle of said river into Lake Ontario ;
through the middle of said lake until it strikes
the communication by water between that lake
and Lake Erie ; thence along the middle of the
said communication into Lake Erie, through the
middle of said lake, until it arrives at the water
communication between that lake and Lake Hu
ron ; thence through the middle of said lake to
the water communication between that lake and
Lake Superior ; thence through Lake Superior
northward to the isles Royal and Philipeaux, to
the Long Lake ; thence through the middle of
said Long Lake, and the water communication
between it and the Lake of the Woods, to the
said Lake of the Woods ; thence through the
said lake to the most northwesternmost point
thereof, and from thence a due west course to
the river Mississippi ; thence by a line to be
drawn along the middle of the said river Mis
sissippi, until it shall intersect the northernmost

Chap. XXIV.]

DOCUMENTS.

309

part of the thirty-first degree of north latitude ;
south, by a line to be drawn due east from the
determination of the line last mentioned, in the
latitude of thirty-one degrees north of the equa
tor, to the middle of the river Apalachicola or
Catahouche ; thence along the middle thereof,
to its junction with the Flint River ; thence
straight to the head of St. Mary's River, and
thence down the middle of St. Mary's River to
the Atlantic Ocean ; east, by a line to be drawn
along the middle of the River St. Croix, from its
mouth in the Bay of Fundy to its source, and
from its source directly north to the aforesaid
high lands, which divide the rivers that fall into
the Atlantic Ocean from those which fall into the
river St. Lawrence, comprehending all islands
within twenty leagues of any part of the shores
of the United States, and lying between lines to
be drawn due east from the points where the
aforesaid boundaries between Nova Scotia on
the one part, and east Florida on the other, shall
respectively touch the Bay of Fundy and the
Atlantic Ocean, excepting such islands as now
are or heretofore have been within the limits of
the said province of Nova Scotia.
Art. III. — It is agreed, that the people of the
United States shall continue to enjoy, unmolest
ed, the right to take fish of every kind on the
Great Bank, and on all the other banks of New
foundland ; also in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and
at all other places in the sea where the inhabit
ants of both countries used at any time hereto
fore to fish ; and also that the inhabitants of the
United States shall have liberty to take fish of
every kind on such part of the coast of New
foundland as British fishermen shall use (but not
to dry or cure the same on that island), and also
on the coasts, bays, and creeks of all other of
his Britannic majesty's dominions in America;
and that the American fishermen shall have lib
erty to dry and cure fish in any of the unsettled
bays, harbors, and creeks of Nova Scotia, Mag
dalen Islands, and Labrador, so long as the same
shall remain unsettled ; but as soon as the same
shall be settled, it shall not be lawful for the
said fishermen to dry or cure fish at such set
tlement, without a previous agreement for that
purpose with the inhabitants, proprietors, or pos
sessors of the ground.
Vol. TI.— 40

Art. rV. — It is agreed, that the creditors, on
either side, shall meet with no lawful impedi
ment to the recovery of the full value in sterling
money of all bona fide debts heretofore con
tracted. Art. V. — It is agreed, that Congress shall
earnestly recommend it to the legislatures of the
respective States, to provide for the restitution
of all estates, rights, and properties, which have
been confiscated, belonging to real British sub
jects; and also of the estates, rights, and prop
erties of persons resident in districts in the pos
session of his majesty's arms, and who have not
borne arms against the United States ; and that
persons of any other description shall have free
liberty to go to any part or parts of any of the
thirteen United States, and therein to remain
twelve months unmolested in their endeavors to
obtain the restitution of such of their estates,
rights, and properties as may have been confis
cated; and that Congress shall also earnestly
recommend to the several States a reconsidera
tion and revision of all acts or laws regarding
the premises, so as to render the said laws or
acts perfectly consistent, not only with justice
and equity, but with that spirit of conciliation
which, on the return of the blessings of peace,
should invariably prevail ; and that Congress
shall also earnestly recommend to the several
States, that the estates, rights, and properties of
such last-mentioned persons shall be restored to
them, they refunding to any persons who may
be now in possession, the bona fide price (where
any has been given) which such persons may
have paid on purchasing any of the said lands,
rights, or properties, since the confiscation. And
it is agreed, that all persons who have any in
terest in confiscated lands, either by debts, mar
riage settlements, or otherwise, shall meet with
no lawful impediment in the prosecution of their
just rights.
Art. VI. — That there shall he no future con
fiscations made, nor any prosecutions commenced
against any person or persons, for or by reason
of the part which he or they may have taken in
the present war ; and that no person shall on
that account suffer any future loss or damage,
either in his person, liberty, or property ; and
that those who may be in confinement on such

310

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book rv

charges, at the time of the ratification of the
treaty in America, shall be immediately set at
liberty, and the prosecutions so commenced be
discontinued. Art. VII. — There shall be a firm and perpet
ual peace between his Britannic majesty and the
said United States, and between the subjects of
the one and the citizens of the other ; wherefore
all hostilities, both by sea and land, shall from
henceforth cease; all prisoners, on both sides,
shall be set at liberty ; and his Britannic majesty
shall, with all convenient speed, and without
causing any destruction, or carrying away any
negroes or other property of the American in
habitants, withdraw all his armies, garrisons,
and fleets from the said United States, and from
every post, place, and harbor within the same,
leaving in all fortifications the American artil
lery that may be therein ; and shall also order
and cause all archives, records, deeds, and pa
pers belonging to any of the said States, or their
citizens, which in the course of the war may

have fallen into the hands of his officers, to be
forthwith restored, and delivered to the proper
States and persons to whom they belong.
Art. VIII. — The navigation of the river Mis
sissippi, from its source to the ocean, shall for
ever remain free and open to the subjects of
Great Britain and the citizens of the United
States. Art. IX. — In case it should so happen that
any place or territory, belonging to Great Brit
ain or to the United States, should have been
conquered by the arms of either from the other,
before the arrival of the said provisional articles
in America, it is agreed that the same shall be
restored without difficulty and without requiring
any compensation.
Art. X. — The solemn ratifications of the pres
ent treaty, expedited in good and due form,
shall be exchanged between the contracting par
ties in the space of six months, or sooner, if pos
sible, to be computed from the day of the signa
ture of the present treaty.

LIFE AND TIMES

OF

WASHINGTON

BOOK V.
WASHINGTON A PRIVATE CITIZEN.

CHAPTER I

1783-1784.

WASHINGTON S RETURN TO PRIVATE LIFE.

Washington's determination to remain in private life. — He refuses the offer of a donation from Congress. — His
letter to Governor Clinton. — To General Knox. — Addresses from the people. — Congress orders a statue to be
erected to him. — The Legislature of Virginia passes a resolution to erect a statue. — It is executed by Houdon. —
Washington takes an interest in agriculture. — Endeavors to improve the common methods. — His correspond
ence with officers and politicians. — Literary men. — Travellers. — Letters. — Intrusions on his time. — Private
secretary obtained. — Mrs. Washington's hospitality. — Washington's attention to internal navigation. — His
journey with Governor Clinton. — Jefferson's views on internal improvement. — Washington's tour to the western
country. — His letter to Governor Harrison. — His views on the political importance of internal navigation. —
Governor Harrison lays the letter before the Legislature of Virginia. — Legislation of Virginia on the subject. —
Washington delegated to the Maryland Legislature. — Internal navigation and improvement inaugurated by
Virginia and Maryland. — Washington offered a splendid donation by the Virginia Legislature. — He declines it. —
His letter to Mr. Madison on the subject. — His letter to the Legislature. — The donation applied to educational
institutions. — Washington appointed president of both companies for internal improvement. — Lafayette's visit.

"When Washington retired from the
command of the army, it was un
doubtedly his intention to devote the
remainder of his life to his favorite
pursuit of agriculture. His estate had
suffered considerably from his devotion
to public duties, and his private affairs
now demanded all his attention. The
Supreme Executive Council of Pennsyl
vania instructed the delegates of that
State in Congress to propose a public
remuneration for his services ; but when
the proposition was submitted for his
approbation, he promptly declined it.
This was in strict consistency with his
uniform character of disinterestedness.
A liberal grant would have been voted
by Congress, and sanctioned by the

nation ; but Washington would not
consent to receive it.
His feelings on finding himself a
private citizen are expressed in his
correspondence. In a letter to Gov
ernor Clinton, written only three days
after his arrival at Mount Vernon, he
says : " The scene is at length closed. I
feel myself eased of a load of public
care, and hope to spend the remainder
of my days in cultivating the affections
of good men, and in the practice of the
domestic virtues." "At length, my dear
marquis," said he to his noble and
highly valued friend, Lafayette, " I
have become a private citizen on the
banks of the Potomac ; and under the
shadow of my own vine, and my own

314

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

fig-tree, free from the bustle of a camp,
and the busy scenes of public life, I am
solacing myself with those tranquil en
joyments, 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 welfare 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
the hope of catching a gracious smile —
can have very little conception. I have
not only retired from all public employ
ments, but am retiring within myself,
and shall be able to view the solitary
walk, and tread the paths of private
life, with heartfelt satisfaction. En
vious of none, I am determined to be
pleased with all; and this, my dear
friend, being the order of my march, I
will move gently down the stream of
life, until I sleep with my fathers."
But a mind accustomed to labor for
a nation's welfare does not immediately
divest itself of ancient habits. That
custom of thinking on public affairs,
and that solicitude respecting them,
which belong to the patriot in office,
follow him into his retreat. In a letter
to General Knox, written soon after his
resignation, Washington thus expressed
the feelings attendant upon this sudden
transition from public to private pur
suits. " 1 am just beginning to experi
ence the ease and freedom from public
cares, which, however desirable, takes
some time to realize ; for, strange as it

may seem, it is nevertheless true, that
it was not until lately I could get the
better of my usual custom of rumina
ting, as soon as I awoke in the morning,
on the business of the ensuing day;
and of my surprise at finding, after
revolving many things in my mind,
that I was no longer a public man, or
had any thing to do with public trans
actions. I feel now, however, as I
conceive a wearied traveller must do,
who, after treading many a painful step
with a heavy burden on his shoulders,
is eased of the latter, having reached
the haven to which all the former were
directed ; 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." For several months after arriving
at Mount Vernon, almost every day
brought him the addresses of an affec
tionate and grateful people. The glow
of expression in which the high sense
universally entertained of his services
was conveyed, manifested the warmth
of feeling which animated the Ameri
can bosom. This unexampled tribute
of voluntary applause, paid by a whole
people to an individual no longer in
power, made no impression on the un
assuming modesty of his character and
deportment. The same firmness of
mind, the same steady and well-tem
pered judgment, which had guided him

Chap. I]

WASHINGTON'S RETURN TO PRIVATE LIFE.

315

through the most perilous seasons of
the war, still regulated his conduct ;
and the enthusiastic applauses of an
admiring nation served only to cherish
sentiments of gratitude, and to give
greater activity to the desire still
further to contribute to the general
prosperity. Soon after peace was proclaimed,
Congress unanimously passed a resolu
tion for the erection of an equestrian
statue of Washington, at the place
which should be established for the
residence of the government.
The legislature of Virginia, too, at its
first session after his resignation, passed
the following resolution :
" Resolved, That the executive be
requested to take measures for procur
ing a statue of General Washington, to
be of the finest marble and best work
manship, with the following inscription
on its pedestal :
" The General Assembly of the com
monwealth of Virginia have caused
this statue to be erected as a monument
of affection and gratitude to George
Washington, who, uniting to the en
dowments of the hero, the virtues of
the patriot, and exerting both in
establishing the liberties of his coun
try, has rendered his name dear to his
fellow-citizens, and given the world an
immortal example of true glory."*

° This statue was executed by Houdon, and stands in
the capitol at Richmond. It is in the costume of
commander-in-chief of the army, and is considered an
excellent likeness. Another statue of Washington, by
Canova, was in the Roman costume, and in a sitting

In addition to the attention which he
bestowed on his own estate, Washington
endeavored to ameliorate the condition
of agriculture generally. Nothing could
be more wretched than the general
state of this useful art in America. To
its amelioration by examples which
might be followed, and by the intro
duction of systems adapted to the soil,
the climate, and to the wants of the
people, the energies of his active and
intelligent mind were now in a great
degree directed. No improvement of
the implements to be used on a farm,
no valuable experiments in husbandry,
escaped his attention. His inquiries,
which were equally minute and com
prehensive, extended beyond the limits
of his own country ; and he entered
into a correspondence on this interest
ing subject with Arthur Young, the
celebrated English writer, and with
other foreigners who had been most
distinguished for their additions to the
stock of agricultural science.
Mingled with this favorite pursuit,
were the multiplied avocations result
ing from the high office he had lately
filled. He was engaged in an extensive
correspondence with the friends most
dear to his heart — the foreign and
American officers who had served
under him during the late war — and

posture. It was made for the State of North Carolina,
and was unfortunately destroyed when the capitol was
burnt. Another statue stands in the State-house at
Boston. It was the result of a private subscription. A
fourth, by Greenough, adorns the grounds of the capitol
at Washington.

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

with almost every conspicuous political
personage of his own, and with many
of other countries. Literary men also
were desirous of obtaining his approba
tion of their works, and his attention
was solicited to every production of
American genius. His countrymen who
were about to travel, were anxious to
receive from the first citizen of the risinp;
Republic, some testimonial bearing his
signature ; and all those strangers of
distinction who visited this newly cre
ated empire, were ambitious of being
presented to its founder. In addition
to visitors of distinction, and those
who had claims of ancient friendship,
he was subjected to the annoyance of
visitors, who, without any just preten
sion to such an honor, made visits to
Mount Vernon merely to gratify their
curiosity; and to the scarcely less
wearisome annoyance of tedious and
unnecessary letters. Of these unwel
come intrusions upon his time, Wash
ington thus complained to an intimate
military friend. " It is not, my dear
sir, the letters of my friends which
give me trouble, or add aught to my
perplexity. I receive them with pleas
ure, and pay as much attention to them
as my avocations will permit. It is
references to old matters with which I
have nothing to do — applications which
oftentimes cannot be complied with —
inquiries, to satisfy which would employ
the pen of an historian — letters of com
pliment, as unmeaning perhaps as they
are troublesome, but which must be
attended to — and the common-place

business — which employ my pen and
my time often disagreeably. Indeed,
these, with company, deprive me of
exercise ; and, unless I can obtain relief,
must be productive of disagreeable con
sequences. Already I begin to feel
their effects. Heavy and painful op
pressions of the head, and other disa
greeable sensations often trouble me.
I am determined therefore to employ
some person who shall ease me of the
drudgery of this business. At any rate,
if the whole of it is thereby suspended,
I am determined to use exercise. My
private affairs also require infinitely
more attention than I have given, or
can give them, under present circum
stances. They can no longer be neg
lected without involving my ruin."
It was some time after the date of
this letter before he introduced into his
family a young gentleman, qualified by
education and manners, to fill the station
of private secretary and friend. This
was Mr. Tobias Lear, of New Hamp
shire, who had graduated at Harvard
College. The numerous visits which Washing
ton received made Mount Vernon any
thing but a place of seclusion and re
pose ; and " during these stirring times,
Mrs. Washington performed the duties
of a Virginia housewife, and presided
at her well-spread board with that
ease and elegance of manners which
always distinguished her."*
This multiplicity of private avoca-
u Custis, Memoir of Martha Washington.

Chap. I.]

WASHINGTON'S RETURN TO PRIVATE LIFE.

317

tions could not entirely withdraw the
mind of Washington from objects tend
ing to promote and secure the public
happiness. His resolution never again
to appear in the busy scenes of political
life, though believed by himself and
by his bosom friends to be unalterable,
could not render him indifferent to
those measures on which the pros
perity of his country essentially de
pended. It is a very interesting fact, that
Washington was among the first, if not
the very first of our public men, who
were impressed with the importance of
connecting the western with the eastern
territory, by facilitating the means of
intercourse between them. To this
subject his attention had been directed
in the early part of his life. While
the American States were yet British
colonies, he had obtained the passage
of a bill for opening the Potomac so as
to render it navigable from tide-water
to Wills Creek, a distance of about one
hundred and fifty miles. The river
James had also been comprehended in
this plan ; and he had triumphed so
far over the opposition produced by
local interests and prejudices, that the
business was in a train which promised
success, when the Revolutionary War
diverted the attention of its patrons,
and of all America, from internal im
provements to the still greater objects
of liberty and independence. As that
war approached its termination, sub
jects which for a time had yielded their
pretensions to consideration, reclaimed
Vol 11—41

that place to which their real magnitude
entitled them ; and internal navigation
again attracted the attention of the
wise and thinking part of society. Ac
customed to contemplate America as
his country, and to consider with solici
tude the interests of the whole, Wash
ington now took a more enlarged view
of the advantages to be derived from
opening both the eastern and the west
ern waters ; and for this, as well as for
other purposes, after peace had been
proclaimed, he traversed the western
parts of New England and New York.
" I have lately," said he in a letter to
the Marquis of Chastellux, " made a
tour through the lakes George and
Cham plain as far as Crown Point; then
returning to Schenectady, I proceeded
up the Mohawk river to Fort Schuyler,
crossed over to Wood Creek, which
empties into the Oneida lake, and af
fords the water communication with
Ontario. I then traversed the country
to the head of the eastern branch of
the Susquehanna, and viewed the lake
Otsego, and the portage between that
lake and the Mohawk river at Canajo-
harie. Prompted by these actual ob
servations, I could not help taking a
more contemplative and extensive view
of the vast inland navigation of these
United States, and could not but be
struck with the immense diffusion and
importance of it ; and with the good
ness of that Providence which has dealt
his favors to us with so profuse a hand.
Would to God we may have wisdom
enough to improve them. I shall not

318

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

rest contented until I have explored
the western country, and traversed
those lines (or great part of them)
which have given bounds to a new
empire." The journey here referred to
was performed in company with Gov
ernor Clinton, while the army was
encamped at Newburg.
Scarcely had he answered those spon
taneous offerings of the heart, which
flowed in upon him from every part of
a grateful nation, when his views were
once more seriously turned to this truly
interesting subject. Its magnitude was
also impressed on others ; and the value
of obtaining the aid which his influence
and active interference would afford to
any exertions for giving this direction
to the public mind, and for securing
the happy execution of the plan which
might be devised, was perceived by all
those who attached to the great work
its real importance. Jefferson, who had
taken an expanded view of it, con
cluded a letter to Washington, contain
ing a detailed statement of his ideas on
the subject in these terms :
" But a most powerful objection
always arises to propositions of this
kind. It is, that public undertakings
are carelessly managed, and much
money spent to little purpose. To ob
viate this objection is the purpose of
my giving you the trouble of this
discussion. You have retired from
public life. You have weighed this
determination, and it would be imper
tinence in me to touch it. But would
the superintendence of this work break

in too much on the sweets of retire
ment and repose ? If they would, I
stop here. Your future time and wishes
are sacred in my eye. If it would be
only a dignified amusement to you,
what a monument of your retirement
would it be ! It is one which would
follow that of your public life, and
bespeak it the work of the same great
hand. I am confident, that would you,
either alone or jointly with any persons
you think proper, be willing to direct
this business, it would remove the only
objection, the weight of which I ap
prehend." In September, IT 84, Washington ful
filled the intention expressed in his
letter to the Marquis of Chastellux, by
making a tour to the western country.
He went on horseback, using pack-
horses for his tent and baggage. He
crossed the Alleghanies by Braddock's
road, examined his lands on the Mo-
nongahela river, and returned through
the wilderness by a circuitous route,
examining the country in order to de
termine the practicability of connecting
the Potomac and James rivers with the
western waters by means of canals.
The whole journey extended some six
hundred and eighty miles* After re
turning from this tour, Washington's
first moments of leisure were devoted
to the task of engaging his countrymen
in a work which appeared to him to
merit still more attention from its poli
tical, than from its commercial influence
* Sparks.

Chap. I.]

WASHINGTON'S RETURN TO PRIVATE LIFE.

319

on the Union. In a long and interesting
letter to Mr. Harrison, then governor
of Virginia, he detailed the advantages
which might be derived from opening
the great rivers, the Potomac and the
James, as high as should be practicable.
After stating with his accustomed ex
actness the distances, and the difficulties
to be surmounted in bringing the trade
of the West to different points on the
Atlantic, he expressed unequivocally
the opinion, that the rivers of Virginia
afforded a more convenient, and a more
direct course than could be found else
where, for that rich and increasing
commerce. This was strongly urged as
a motive for immediately commencing
the work. But the rivers of the Atlan
tic constituted only a part of the great
plan he contemplated. He suggested
the appointment of commissioners, who
should, after an accurate examination of
the James and the Potomac, search out
the nearest and best portages between
those waters and the streams which
run into the Ohio. Those streams were
to be accurately surveyed, the impedi
ments to their navigation ascertained,
and their relative advantages examined.
The navigable waters west of the Ohio,
towards the great lakes, were also to
be traced to their sources, and those
which empty into the lakes to be fol
lowed to their mouths. " These things
being done, and an accurate map of the
whole presented to the public, he was
persuaded that reason would dictate
what was right and proper." For the
execution of this latter part of his plan

he had also much reliance on Congress;
and in addition to the general advan
tages to be drawn from the measure,
he labored, in his letters to the mem
bers of that body, to establish the
opinion, that the surveys he recom
mended would add to the revenue, by
enhancing the value of the lands offered
for sale. "Nature," he said, "had made
such an ample display of her bounties
in those regions, that the more the
country was explored, the more it would
rise in estimation."
The assent and co-operation of Mary
land being indispensable to the im
provement of the Potomac, he was
equally earnest in his endeavors to
impress a conviction of its superior
advantages on those individuals who
possessed most influence in that State.
In doing so, he detailed the measures
which would unquestionably be adopted
by New York and Pennsylvania, for
acquiring the monopoly of the western
commerce, and the difficulty which
would be found in diverting it from
the channel it had once taken. " I am
not," he added, "for discouraging the
exertions of any State to draw the
commerce of the western country to
its sea-ports. The more communica
tions we open to it, the closer we bind
that rising world (for indeed it may be
so called) to our interests, and the
greater strength shall we acquire by it
Those to whom nature affords the best
communication, will, if they are wise,
enjoy the greatest share of the trade.
All I would be understood to mean.

320

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

therefore, is, that the gifts of Provi
dence may not be neglected."
But the light in which this subject
would be viewed with most interest,
and which gave to it most importance,
was its political influence on the Union.
"I need not remark to you, sir," said
he in his letter to Governor Harrison
of Virginia, "that the flanks and rear
of the United States are possessed by
other powers, — and formidable ones
too : nor need I press the necessity of
applying the cement of interest to bind
all parts of the Union together by in
dissoluble bonds, — especially of binding
that part of it which lies immediately
west of us, to the Middle States. For
what ties, let me ask, should we have
upon those people ? How entirely un
connected with them shall we be, and
what troubles may we not apprehend,
if the Spaniards on their right, and
Great Britain on their left, instead of
throwing impediments in their way as
they now do, should hold out lures for
their trade and alliance ! When they
get strength, which will be sooner than
most people conceive, what will be the
consequence of their having formed
close commercial connections with both
or either of those powers, it needs not,
in my opinion, the gift of prophecy to
foretell." This idea was enlarged and pressed
with much earnestness, in his letters to
several members of Congress.
The letter to Governor Harrison was
communicated to the Assembly of Vir
ginia, and the internal improvements it

recommended were zealously supported
by the wisest members of that body.
While the subject remained undecided,
Washington, accompanied by Lafayette,
who had crossed the Atlantic, and had
arrived at Mount Vernon on the 17th
of August, paid a visit to the capital of
the State. Never was reception more
cordial, or more demonstrative of re
spect and affection, than was given to
these beloved personages. But amidst
the display of addresses and of enter
tainments which were produced by the
occasion, the great business of internal
improvements was not forgotten ; and
the ardor of the moment was seized to
conquer those objections to the plan,
which yet lingered in the bosoms of
members who could perceive in it no
future advantages to compensate for
the present expense.
An exact conformity between the
acts of Virginia and of Maryland being
indispensable to the improvement of
the Potomac, a resolution was passed,
soon after the return of Washington to
Mount Vernon, requesting him to attend
the legislature of Maryland, in order to
agree on a bill which might receive the
sanction of both States. This agree
ment being happily completed, the
bills were passed ; and thus began that
grand system of internal improvement
by which the eastern portion of the
Union is bound to the west. Canals
and portages were the forerunners of
the railroads by which every part of
the country is now traversed ; and the
whole Republic is firmly united in bonds

Chap. I.]

WASHINGTON'S RETURN TO PRIVATE LIFE.

321

of mutual intercourse, which, it is fondly
hoped, will prove perpetual.
The legislature of Virginia seized the
occasion afforded by the passage of
these acts, to signalize the affection and
gratitude of the State towards her fa
vorite sbn. A bill was drafted by Mr.
Madison, the preamble of which was
in the following words :
"Whereas it is the desire of the
representatives of this commonwealth
to embrace every suitable occasion of
testifying their sense of the unexampled
merits of George Washington, Esquire,
towards his country, and it is their
wish in particular that those great
works for its improvement, which both
as springing from the liberty which he
has been so instrumental in establish
ing, and as encouraged by his patronage,
will be durable monuments of his glory,
may be made monuments also of the
gratitude of his country. Be it enacted,
Ac." By this bill the treasurer was in
structed to subscribe, in behalf of the
State, for a specified number of shares
in each company. Just at the close of
the session, when no refusal of their
offer could be communicated to them, a
bill was suddenly brought in, which
received the unanimous assent of both
houses, authorizing the treasurer to
subscribe for the benefit of Washing
ton, the same number of shares in each
company as were to be taken for the
State. The actual value of the shares
was forty thousand dollars.
Washington was greatly embarrassed

by this mark of gratitude. It afforded
him pleasure to see that his character
and services were appreciated by his
fellow-citizens. But he would not de
part from his determination to receive
no pecuniary reward for his public ser
vices. To Madison, who conveyed to him
the first intelligence of this bill, his
difficulties were thus expressed :
"It is not easy for me to decide by
which my mind was most affected upon
the receipt of your letter of the sixth
instant — surprise or gratitude. Both
were greater than I had words to ex
press. The attention and good wishes
which the Assembly has evinced by
their act for vesting in me one hundred
and fifty shares in the navigation of the
rivers Potomac and James, is more than
mere compliment, — there is an unequiv
ocal and substantial meaning annexed.
But, believe me, sir, no circumstance
has happened since I left the walks of
public life which has so much embar
rassed me. On the one hand, I consider
this act, as I have already observed, as
a noble and unequivocal proof of the
good opinion, the affection, and disposi
tion of my country to serve me ; and I
should be hurt, if, by declining the
acceptance of it, my refusal should
be construed into disrespect, or the
smallest slight upon the generous in
tention of the legislature ; or that an
ostentatious display of disinterestedness,
or public virtue, was the source of
refusal. " On the other hand, it is really my

322

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

wish to have my mind and my actions,
which are the result of reflection, as
free and independent as the air, that I
may be more at liberty (in things
which my opportunities and experience
have brought me to the knowledge of)
to express my sentiments, and if neces
sary, to suggest what may occur to me,
under the fullest conviction that, al
though my judgment may be arraigned,
there will be no suspicion that sinister
motives had the smallest influence in
the suggestion. Not content then with
the bare consciousness of my having in
all this navigation business, acted upon
the clearest conviction of the political
importance of the measure, I would
wish that every individual who may
hear that it was a favorite plan of mine,
may know also, that I had no other
motive for promoting it, than the ad
vantage of which I conceived it would
be productive to the Union at large,
and to this State in particular, by ce
menting the eastern and western terri
tory together, at the same time that it
will give vigor and increase to our
commerce, and be a convenience to our
citizens." At length he determined, in the same
letter which should convey his resolu
tion not to retain the shares for his
private emolument, to signify his will
ingness to hold them in trust for such
public institution as the legislature
should approve. The following letter
conveyed this resolution to the General
Assembly, through the governor of the
State :

October, 1785.
"Sir: — Your Excellency having been
pleased to transmit me a copy of the act
appropriating to my benefit certain
shares in the companies for opening the
navigation of James and Potomac rivers,
I take the liberty of returning to the
General Assembly, through your hands,
the profound and grateful acknowledg
ments inspired by so signal a mark of
their beneficent intentions towards me.
I beg you, sir, to assure them, that I
am filled on this occasion with every
sentiment which can flow from a heart
warm with love for my country, sensi
ble to every token of its approbation
and affection, and solicitous to testify in
every instance a respectful submission
to its wishes.
" With these sentiments in my bosom,
I need not dwell on the anxiety I feel
in being obliged, in this instance, to
decline a favor which is rendered no
less flattering by the manner in which
it is conveyed, than it is affectionate in
itself. In explaining this, I pass over a
comparison of my endeavors in the
public service, with the many honora
ble testimonies of approbation which
have already so far overrated, and
overpaid them — -reciting one considera
tion only, which supersedes the necessity
of recurring to every other.
" When I was first called to the sta
tion with which I was honored during
the late conflict for our liberties, to the
diffidence which I had so many reasons
to feel in accepting it, I thought it my
duty to join a firm resolution to shut

Chap. I.]

WASHINGTON'S RETURN TO PRIVATE LIFE.

323

my hand against every pecuniary rec
ompense. To this resolution I have
invariably adhered, and from it (if I
had the inclination) I do not consider
myself at liberty now to depart.
" Whilst I repeat therefore my fer
vent acknowledgments to the legisla
ture, for their very kind sentiments and
intentions in my favor, and at the same
time beg them to be persuaded that a
remembrance of this singular proof of
their goodness towards me, will never
cease to cherish returns of the warmest
affection and gratitude, I must pray
that their act, so far as it has for its
object my personal emolument, may
not have its effect; but if it should
please the General Assembly to permit
me to turn the destination of the fund
vested in me, from my private emolu
ment to objects of a public nature, it
will be my study, in selecting these, to
prove the sincerity of my gratitude for
the honor conferred upon me, by pre
ferring such as may appear most sub
servient to the enlightened and patriotic
views of the legislature."
The wish suggested in this letter,
immediately received the sanction of
the legislature ; and at a subsequent
time, the trust was executed by con
veying the shares respectively to the
use of a seminary of learning — which
is now called Washington College, and
to a university to be established in the
District of Columbia, under the auspices
of the government.
Washington felt too strong an interest
in the success of these works, to refuse

the presidency of the companies insti
tuted for their completion. In conduct
ing the affairs of the Potomac company,
he took an active part : to that formed
for opening the navigation of the James,
he could only give his counsel.
While Washington was at Richmond
attending to the interests of internal
navigation, he had been joined by La
fayette, who, since his recent visit to
Mount Vernon, had accompanied the
commissioners to Fort Schuyler, to
make a treaty with the Indians; and
had assisted on that occasion. He had
subsequently made a tour in the Eastern
States, where he was received with
much distinction, and he was now on
his return to pay a farewell visit to
Washington at Mount Vernon.
He remained only a week at Mount
Vernon. Washington accompanied him
to Annapolis, where Lafayette was hon
ored with a public reception
r . p 1784.
and address by the legislature
of Maryland ; and there, on the 30th
of November, these distinguished men
took leave of each other. From Annap
olis Lafayette proceeded to Trenton,
where Congress was then in session, and
on Christmas day he embarked at New
York for France, in the frigate Nymphe.
The following is an extract from a letter
written by Washington to Lafayette on
his return to Mount Vernon :
"The peregrination of the day in
which I parted from you ended at Marl
borough. The next day, bad as it was,
I got home before dinner.
" In the moment of separation, upon

324

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

the road as I 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 say 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
blest with a good constitution, I was of
a short-lived family, and might soon
expect to be entombed in the mansion
of my fathers. These thoughts dark
ened the shades, and gave a gloom to
the picture, and consequently to my
prospect of seeing you again. But I
will not repine ; I have had my day.

"Nothing of importance has occurred
since I parted with you. I found my
family well, and am now immersed in
company ; notwithstanding which, I
have in haste produced a few more
letters to give you the trouble of, rather
inclining to commit them to your care,
than to pass them through many and
unknown hands."
Among the letters referred to in the
above extract was one to the Marchioness
de Lafayette, and another to her little
daughter. In the former he writes :
" The Marquis returns to you with all
the warmth and ardor of a newly in
spired lover. We restore him to you
in good health, crowned with wreaths
of love and respect from every part of
the Union."*
e See Document at the end of this chapter.

DOCUMENT ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER I.

MAJOR-GENERAL GILBERT MOTHER LAFAYETTE.
This illustrious champion of the freedom of
man was born at the Castle of Chavaniac, in
Auvergne, on the 6th of September, 1757. A
few months after his birth his father was killed
at the battle of Minden. As Marquis de La
fayette, he was now at the head of one of the
most ancient and distinguished of the noble
families of France. He was educated at the
college of Louis le Grand, in Paris, placed at
court, as an officer in one of the guards of
honor, and at the age of seventeen was married
to the grand-daughter of the Duke de Noailles.
It was under these circumstances that the young
Marquis de Lafayette entered upon a career so
little to be expected of a youth of vast fortune,
of high rank, of powerful connections, at the
most brilliant and fascinating court in the
world. " The self-devotion of Lafayette in the cause
of America," says Mr. Adams, in his eulogy,
" was twofold. First, to the people, maintain
ing a bold and seemingly desperate struggle
against oppression, and for national existence.
Secondly, and chiefly, to the principles of their
declaration, which then first unfurled before his
eyes the consecrated standard of human rights.
To that standard, without an instant of hesita
tion, he repaired. Where it would lead him, it
is scarcely probable that he himself then fore
saw. It was then identical with the stars and
stripes of the American union, floating to the
breeze from the Hall of Independence, at Phila
delphia. Nor sordid avarice, nor vulgar am
bition, could point his footsteps to the pathway
leading to that banner. To the love of ease
or pleasure nothing could be more repulsive.
Vm. II. -42

Something may be allowed to the beatings of
the youthful breast, which make ambition vir
tue, and something to the spirit of military
adventure, imbibed from his profession, and
which he felt in common with many others.
France, Germany, Poland, furnished to the
armies of this Union, in our revolutionary
struggle, no inconsiderable number of officers
of high rank and distinguished merit. The
names of Pulaski and De Kalb are numbered
among the martyrs of our freedom, and their
ashes repose in our soil side by side with the
canonized bones of Warren and of Montgomery.
To the virtues of Lafayette, a more protracted
career and happier earthly destinies were re
served. To the moral principle of political
action, the sacrifices of no other man were
comparable to his. Youth, health, fortune ;
the favor of his king ; the enjoyment of ease
and pleasure ; even the choicest blessings of
domestic felicity ; — he gave them all for toil and
danger in a distant land, and an almost hopeless
cause; but it was the cause of justice, and of
the rights of human kind.
"The resolve is firmly fixed, and it now re
mains to be carried into execution. On the 7th
of December, 1776, Silas Deane, then> a secret
agent of the American Congress at Paris^ stip
ulates with the Marquis de Lafayette that he
shall receive a commission, to date from that
clay, of major-general in the army of the United
States ; and the marquis stipulates, in return,
to depart when and how Mr. Deane shall
judge proper, to serve the United States with
all possible zeal, without pay or emolument,
reserving to himself only the liberty of return
ing to Europe, if his family or his king should
recall him.

326

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

" Neither his family nor his king were willing
that he should depart ; nor had Mr. Deane the
power, either to conclude this contract, or to
furnish the means of his conveyance to America.
Difficulties rise up before him only to be dis
persed, and obstacles thicken only to be sur
mounted. The clay after the signature of the
contract, Mr. Deane's agency was superseded
by the arrival of Doctor Benjamin Franklin
and Arthur Lee, as his colleagues in commis
sion ; nor did they think themselves authorized
to confirm his engagement. Lafayette is not to
be discouraged. The commissioners extenuate
nothing of the unpromising condition of their
cause. Mr. Deane avows his inability to furnish
him with a passage to the United States. 'The
more desperate the cause,' says Lafayette, ' the
greater need has it of my services ; and, if Mr.
Deane has no vessel for my passage, I shall
purchase one myself, and will traverse the ocean
with a selected company of my own.'
" Other impediments arise. His design be
comes known to the British ambassador at the
court of Versailles, who remonstrates to the
French government against it. At his instance,
orders are issued for the detention of the vessel
purchased by the Marquis, and fitted out at
Bordeaux, and for the arrest of his person. To
elude the first of these orders, the vessel is re
moved from Bordeaux to the neighboring port
of passage, within the dominion of Spain. The
order for his own arrest is executed ; but, by
stratagem and disguise, he escapes from the
custody of those who have him in charge, and,
before a second order can reach him, he is safe
on the ocean wave, bound to the land of inde
pendence and of freedom.
" It had been necessary to clear out the vessel
for an island of the West Indies ; but, once at
sea, he avails himself of his right as owner of
the ship, and compels his captain to steer for
the shores of emancipated North America. He
lands, with his companions, on the 25th of April,
1777, in South Carolina, not far from Charles
ton, and finds a most cordial reception and hos
pitable welcome in the house of Major Huger."
Immediately on his arrival, Lafayette received
the offer of a command in the continental army,
which he declined, and forthwith raised and

equipped a body of men at his own expense,
and then entered the service as a volunteer,
without pay. He lived in the family of Washing
ton, and soon gained a strong hold in the affec
tions of that discriminating judge of character.
Lafayette was appointed a major-general in
July, 1777, and was attached to the army at
the time when Washington marched to Brandy-
wine, with a view to intercejrt General Howe in
his intended descent on Philadelphia. In the
battle which ensued, Lafayette was wounded.
Mr. Adams thus eloquently notices Lafayette's
participation in this affair.
" Let us pass in imagination a period of only
twenty years, and alight upon the borders of
the river Brandywine. Washington is com
mander-in-chief of the armies of the United
States of America — war is again raging in the
heart of his native land — hostile armies, of one
and the same name, blood, and language, are
arrayed for battle on the banks of the stream ;
and Philadelphia, where the United States are
in Congress assembled, and whence their decree
of independence has gone forth, is the destined
prize to the conflict of the day. Who is that
tall, slender youth, of foreign air and aspect,
scarcely emerged from the years of boyhood,
and fresh from the walls of a college ; fighting,
a volunteer, at the side of Washington, bleed
ing, unconsciously to himself, and rallying his
men to secure the retreat of the scattered
American ranks ? It is Gilbert Mottiek de
Lafayette — the son of the victim of Minden ;
and he is bleeding in the cause of North Ameri
can independence, and of freedom."
While associated with Washington as a mem
ber of his military family at his head-quarters
on the Brandywine, and on other occasions,
Lafayette had made still further progress in the
esteem of his illustrious friend.
" The merits of Lafayette to the eye of Wash
ington," says Mr. Adams, " are the candor and
generosity of his disposition — the indefatigable
industry of application, which, in the course of
a few months, has already given him the mastery
of a foreign language — good sense — discretion
of manners, an attribute not only unusual in
early years, but doubly rare in alliance with
that enthusiasm so signally marked by his self-

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devotion to the American cause ; and, to crown
all the rest, the bravery and military ardor so
brilliantly manifested at the Brandywine. Here
is no random praise : no unmeaning panegyric.
The cluster of qualities, all plain and simple,
but so seldom found in union together, so gen
erally incompatible with one another, these are
the properties eminently trustworthy, in the
judgment of Washington ; and these are the
properties which his discernment has found in
Lafayette, and which urge him thus earnestly
to advise the gratification of his wish, by the
assignment of a command equal to the rank
which had been granted to his zeal and his
illustrious name."
The recommendation of Washington had its
immediate effect; and on the first of December,
1777, it was resolved by Congress, that he
should be informed it was highly agreeable to
Congress, that the Marquis de Lafayette should
be appointed to the command of a division in
the continental army.
He received, accordingly, such an appoint
ment ; and a plan was organized in Congress
for a second invasion of Canada, at the head of
which he was placed. This expedition, origi
nally projected without consultation with the
commander-in-chief, might be connected with
the temporary dissatisfaction, in the community
and in Congress, at the ill success of his en
deavors to defend Philadelphia, which rival and
unfriendly partisans were too ready to compare
with the splendid termination, by the capture of
Burgoyne and his army, of the northern cam
paign, under the command of General Gates.
To foreclose all suspicion of participation in
these views, Lafayette proceeded to the seat
of Congress, and, accepting the important
charge which it was proposed to assign to him,
obtained, at his particular request, that he
should be considered as an officer detached
from the army of Washington, and to remain
under his orders. He then repaired in person
to Albany, to take command of the troops who
were to assemble at that place, in order to cross
the lakes on the ice, and attack Montreal ; but,
on arriving at Albany, he found none of the
promised preparations in readiness — they were
never effected. Congress some time after re

linquished the design, and the Marquis was
ordered to rejoin the army of Washington.
In the succeeding month of May, his military
talent was displayed by the masterly retreat,
effected in the presence of an overwhelming
superiority of the enemy's force, from the posi
tion at Barren Hill.
He was soon after distinguished at the battle
of Monmouth; and in September, 1778, a reso
lution of Congress declared their high sense of
his services, not only in the field, but in his
exertions to conciliate and heal dissensions be
tween the officers of the French fleet under the
command of the Count d'Estaing and some of
the native officers of our army. These dissen
sions had arisen in the first moments of co
operation in the service, and had threatened
pernicious consequences.
In the month of April, 1776, the combined
wisdom of the Count de Vergennes and of Mr.
Turgot, the prime minister and the financier of
Louis the Sixteenth, had brought him to the
conclusion that the event most desirable to
France, with regard to the controversy between
Great Britain and her American colonies, was,
that the insurrection should be suppressed.
This judgment, evincing only the total absence
of all moral considerations, in the estimate, by
these eminent statesmen, of what was desirable
to France, had undergone a great change by
the close of the year 1777. The declaration of
independence had changed the question between
the parties. The popular feeling of France was
all on the side of the Americans. The daring
and romantic movement of Lafayette, in defi
ance of the government itself, then highly fa
vored by public opinion, was followed by uni
versal admiration. The spontaneous spirit of
the people gradually spread itself even over the
rank corruption of the court ; a suspicious and
deceptive neutrality succeeded to an ostensible
exclusion of the insurgents from the ports of
France, till the capitulation of Burgoyne satis
fied the casuists of international law at Ver
sailles, that the suppression of the insurrection
was no longer the most desirable of events ; but
that the United States were, de facto, sovereign
and independent, and that France might con
clude a treaty of commerce with them, without

328

LIFE AND TIMES Of WASHINbrrON.

[Book V.

giving just cause of offence to the step-mother
country. On the 9th of February, 1778, a
treaty of commerce between France and the
United States was concluded, and with it, on
the same day, a treaty of eventual defensive
alliance, to take effect only in the event of Great
Britain's resenting, by war against France, the
consummation of the commercial treaty. The
war immediately ensued, and in the summer of
1778, a French fleet, under the command of
Count d'Estaing, was sent to co-operate with
the forces of the United States for the mainte
nance of their independence.
By these events the position of the Marquis
de Lafayette was essentially changed. It be
came necessary for him to reinstate himself in
the good graces of his sovereign, offended at his
absenting himself from his country without per
mission, but gratified with the distinction which
he had acquired by gallant deeds in a service
now become that of France herself. At the
close of the campaign of 1778, with the appro
bation of his friend and patron, the commander-
in-chief, he addressed a letter to the president
of Congress, representing his then present cir
cumstances with the confidence of affection and
gratitude, observing that the sentiments which
bound him to his country could never be more
properly spoken of than in the presence of men
who had done so much for their own. "As
long," continued he, " as I thought I could dis
pose of myself, I made it my pride and pleasure
to fight under American colors, in defence of a
cause which I dare more particularly call ours,
because I had the good fortune of bleeding for
her. Now, sir, that France is involved in a
war, I am urged, by a sense of my duty, as well
as by the love of my country, to present myself
before the king, and know in what manner he
judges proper to employ my services. The
most agreeable of all, will always be such as
may enable me to serve the common cause
among those whose friendship I had the happi
ness to obtain, and whose fortune I had the
honor to follow in less smiling times. That
reason, and others, which I leave to the feelings
of Congress, engage me to beg from them the
liberty of going home for the next winter.
' As long as there were any hopes of an ac

tive campaign, I did not think of leaving the
field ; now, that I see a very peaceable and un
disturbed moment, I take this ojjportunity of
waiting on Congress."
In the remainder of the letter he solicited
that, in the event of his request being granted,
he might be considered as a soldier on furlough,
heartily wishing to rejoin his colors and his
esteemed and beloved fellow-soldiers. And he
closes with a tender of any services which he
might be enabled to render to the American
cause in his own country.
On the receipt of this letter, accompanied by
one from General Washington, recommending
to Congress, in terms most honorable to the
Marquis, a compliance with his request, that
body immediately passed resolutions granting
him an unlimited leave of absence, with permis
sion to return to the United States at his own
most convenient time ; that the president of
Congress should write him a letter returning
him the thanks of Congress for that disinterest
ed zeal which had led him to America, and for
the services he had rendered to the United
States by the exertion of his courage and abili
ties on many signal occasions ; and that the
minister plenipotentiary of the United States at
the court of Versailles should be directed to
cause an elegant sword, with proper devices, to
be made, and presented to him in the name of
the United States. These resolutions were com
municated to him in a letter expressive of the
sensibility congenial to them, from the president
of Congress, Henry Laurens.
He embarked in January, 1779, in the frigate
Alliance, at Boston, and on the succeeding 1 2th
day of February, presented himself at Versailles.
Twelve months had already elapsed since the
conclusion of the treaties of commerce and of
eventual alliance between France and the United
States. They had, during the greater part of
that time, been deeply engaged in war with a
common cause against Great Britain, and it was
the cause in which Lafayette had been shed
ding his blood ; yet, instead of receiving him
with open arms, as the pride and ornament of
his country, a cold and hollow-hearted order
was issued to him, not to present , himself at
court, but, to consider himself under arrest, with

Chap. I.]

DOCUMENT.

329

permission to receive visits only from his rela
tions. This ostensible mark of the royal dis
pleasure was to last eight days, and Lafayette
manifested his sense of it only by a letter to the
Count de Vergennes, inquiring whether the in
terdiction upon him to receive visits was to be
considered as extending to that of Doctor
Franklin. The sentiment of universal admira
tion which had followed him at his first depart
ure, greatly increased by his splendid career
of service during the two years of his absence,
indemnified him for the indignity of the courtly
rebuke. He remained in France through the year 1779,
and returned to the scene of action early in the
ensuing year. He continued in the French ser
vice, and was appointed to command the king's
own regiment of dragoons, stationed during the
year in various parts of the kingdom, and hold
ing an incessant correspondence with the minis
ters of foreign affairs and of war, urging the
employment of a land and naval fcrcc in aid of
the American cause. " The Marquis de La
fayette," says Dr. Franklin, in a letter of the
4th of March, 1780, to the president of Con
gress, " who, during his residence in France, has
been extremely zealous in supporting our cause
on all occasions, returns again to fight for it.
He is infinitely esteemed and beloved here, and
I am persuaded will do every thing in his power
to merit a continance of the same affection from
America." Immediately after his arrival in the United
States, it was, on the 16th of May, 1780, resolved
in Congress, that they considered his return to
America to resume his command, as a fresh proof
of the disinterested zeal and persevering attach
ment which have justly recommended him to the
public confidence and applause, and that they
received with pleasure a tender of the further
services of so gallant and meritorious an officer.
From this time until the termination of the
campaign of 1781, by the surrender of Lord
Cornwallis and his army at Yorktown, his ser
vice was of incessant activity, always signalized
by military talents unsurpassed, and by a spirit
never to be subdued. At the time of the treason
of Arnold, Lafayette was accompanying his com
mander-in-chief to an important conference and

consultation with the French general, Rocham
beau ; and then, as in every stage of the war, it
seemed as if the position which he occupied, his
personal character, his individual relations with
Washington, with the officers of both the allied
armies, and with the armies themselves, had
been specially ordered to promote and secure
that harmony and mutual good understanding
indispensable to the ultimate success of the com
mon cause. His position, too, as a foreigner by
birth, a European, a volunteer in the American
service, and a person of high rank in his native
country, pointed him out as peculiarly suited to
the painful duty of deciding upon the character
of the crime, and upon the fate of the British
officer, the accomplice and victim of the detested
traitor Arnold.
In the early part of the campaign of 1781,
when Cornwallis, with an overwhelming force,
was spreading ruin and devastation over the
southern portion of the Union, we find Lafayette,
with means altogether inadequate, charged with
the defence of the territory of Virginia. Always
equal to the emergencies in which circumstances
placed him, his expedients for encountering and
surmounting the obstacles which they cast in his
way are invariably stamped with the peculiari
ties of his character.
Lafayette's gallant conduct in the capture of
the redoubt at Yorktown, is also particularly
noticed in the text. He was present at the sur
render of that place to the French and Ameri
can armies.
Immediately after the capitulation at York-
town, Lafayette again asked and obtained leave
of absence to visit his family and his country,
and with this closed his military service in the
field, during the Revolutionary War. But it
was not for the individual enjoyment of his re
nown that he returned to France. The resolu
tions of Congress accompanying that which gave
him a discretionary leave of absence, while hon
orary in the highest degree to him, were equally
marked by a grant of virtual credentials for
negotiation, and by the trust of confidential
powers, together with a letter of the warmest
commendation of the gallant soldier to the favor
of his king. The ensuing year was consumed in
preparations for a formidable combined French

330

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

and Spanish expedition against the British islands
in the West Indies, and particularly the Island
of Jamaica ; thence to recoil upon New York,
and to pursue the offensive war into Canada.
The fleet destined for this gigantic undertaking
was already assembled at Cadiz ; and Lafayette,
appointed the chief of the staff, was there ready
to embark upon this perilous adventure, when,
on the 30th of November, 1782, the preliminary
treaties of peace were concluded between his
Britannic Majesty on one part, and the allied
powers of France, Spain, and the United States
of America on the other. The first intelligence
of this event received by the American Congress
was in the communication of a letter from La
fayette. The importance of his services in France maybe
seen by consulting his letters in the Correspond
ence of the American Revolution (Boston, 1831).
Lafayette now received pressing invitations to
revisit this country. Washington, in particular,
urged it strongly ; and for the third time he
landed in the United States, August 4, 1784.
On his arrival, he was received with all the
warmth of old friendship by Washington, at
Mount Vernon.
He subsequently visited Baltimore, Philadel
phia, New York, Boston, and the principal places
throughout the country, and was everywhere
received with the greatest enthusiasm and de
light. Previous to his return to France, Congress
appointed a deputation, consisting of one mem
ber from each State, " to take leave of him on
behalf of the country," and assure him "that
these United States regard him with particular
affection, and will not cease to feel an interest
in whatever may concern his honor and pros
perity." He returned to France, and arrived at Paris
on the 25th of January, 1785.
He continued to take a deep interest in the
concerns of the United States, and exerted his
influence with the French government to obtain
reductions of duties favorable to their commerce
and fisheries. In the summer of 1786, he visited
several of the German courts, and attended the
last great review by Frederick the Second of his
veteran army — a review unusually splendid, and

specially remarkable by the attendance of many
of the most distinguished military commanders
of Europe. In the same year the legislature of
Virginia manifested the continued recollection
of his services rendered to the people of that
commonwealth, by a complimentary token of
gratitude not less honorable than it was unusual.
They resolved that two busts of Lafayette, to be
executed by the celebrated sculptor Houdon,
should be procured at their expense ; that one
of them should be placed in their own legislative
hall, and the other presented, in their name, to
the municipal authorities of the city of Paris.
It was accordingly presented by Mr. Jefferson,
then minister plenipotentiary of the United States
in France, and, by the permission of Louis the
Sixteenth, was accepted, and, with appropriate
solemnity, placed in one of the halls of the Hotel
de Ville in the metropolis of France.
After his return to his native country, La
fayette was engaged in endeavoring to mitigate
the condition of the Protestants in France, and
to effect the abolition of slavery. In the Assem
bly of the Notables, in 1787, he proposed the sup
pression of lettres de cachet, and of the state-
prisons, the emancipation of the Protestants, and
the convocation of the representatives of the
nation. When asked by the Count d'Artois, af
terwards Charles X., if he demanded the States-
General — " Yes," was his reply, " and something
better." Being elected a member of the States-
General, which took the name of National As
sembly (1789), he proposed a declaration of
rights, and the decree providing for the respon
sibilities of the officers of the crown.
The first movements of the people in the state
of insurrection took place on the 12th of July,
1789, and issued in the destruction of the Bas-
tile, and in the murder of its governor, and of
several other persons, hung up at lamp-posts or
torn to pieces by the phrensied multitude, with
out form of trial, and without shadow of guilt.
The Bastile had long been odious as the place
of confinement of persons arrested by arbitrary
orders for offences against the government, and
its destruction was hailed by most of the friends
of liberty throughout the world as an act of pa
triotism and magnanimity on the part of the
people. The brutal ferocity of the murders was

Chap. I.]

DOCUMENT.

331

overlooked or palliated in the glory of the
achievement of razing to its foundations the ex
ecrated citadel of despotism. But as the sum
mary justice of insurrection can manifest itself
only by destruction, the example once set, be
came a precedent for a series of years for scenes
so atrocious, and for butcheries so merciless and
horrible, that memory revolts at the task of re
calling them to mind.
Two days after the attack on the Bastile, La
fayette was appointed (July 14) commander-in-
chief of the national guards of Paris. The court
and National Assembly were still at Versailles,
and the populace of Paris, irritated at this, had
already adopted, in sign of opposition, a blue
and red cockade (being the colors of the city of
Paris), July 26th. Lafayette added to this cock
ade the white of the royal arms, declaring, at the
same time, that the tri-color should go round
the world.
On the march of the populace to Versailles
(October 5th and 6th), the national guards
clamored to be led thither. Lafayette refused
to comply with their demand, until, having re
ceived orders in the afternoon, he set off and
arrived at ten o'clock, after having been on
horseback from before daylight. He requested
that the interior posts of the chdteau might be
committed to him; but this request was re
fused, and the outer posts only were intrusted
to the national guards. This was the night on
which the assassins murdered two of the queen's
guards, and were proceeding to further acts of
violence, when Lafayette, at the head of the
national troops, put an. end to the disorder, and
saved the lives of the royal family. In the
morning he accompanied them to Paris.
Lafayette voted in the Assembly for the insti
tution of the jury, for the suppression of hered
itary nobility, for the political equality of all
citizens, &c. Mistrusting the effect of individ
ual ambition in revolutionary times, he moved
and carried a resolution to the effect that the
same person should not have the command of
the national gnards of more than one depart
ment at once. He himself refused the appoint
ment of lieutenant-general of the kingdom. In
conjunction with Bailly, he instituted the i club
of the Feuillans, which supported the Constitu

tional monarchy on a popular basis. After the
king's forced return from the flight of Varennes,
Lafayette supported the decree by which the
king was restored to the exercise of his regal
office on swearing to the new constitution.
Upon this, the republican party broke out into
an insurrection, which Lafayette and the na
tional guards put down on the Champ cle Mars.
Soon afterwards Lafayette gave in his resigna
tion, and retired into the country ; but the war
of the first coalition having begun, he was ap
pointed to the command of the army of Flan
ders, and he defeated the allies at Philippeville
and Mauberge. He was, however, hated by
the Jacobins at Paris, and mistrusted by the
court. On the 16th of June, 1792, he wrote a
strong letter to the Legislative Assembly, de
nouncing the plots of those men, " who, under
the mask of democratic zeal, smothered liberty
under the excess of their license."
He soon after repaired to Paris, and de
manded of the Legislative Assembly the punish
ment of the outrages committed against the
king at the Tuileries on the 20th of June. But
the republican party was already prepondera
ting in the Assembly, and Lafayette found he was
not safe in Paris. It is said that he then pro
posed to the king and the royal family to take
shelter in his camp at Compiegne ; but the ad
vice was rejected by Louis, or rather by those
around him, who placed all their confidence in
the Duke of Brunswick and the Prussians.
On the 30th of June, the Jacobins of Paris
burnt Lafayette in effigy in the Palais Royal.
Lafayette having returned to his camp, pub
licly expressed to his officers his disapprobation
of the attack on the Tuileries of the 10th of
August, and on the 15th of that month he
arrested the commissioners sent by the Legisla
tive Assembly to watch him. Upon this he was
outlawed, and was obliged to cross the frontiers
with a few friends. How far was Lafayette, at
that moment of disappointed patriotism and
deep mortification, from imagining that, when
all the bloody scenes and disgraceful cabals of
the French revolution should have passed away,
he would once more become the idol of his fickle
countrymen !
His first intention, on leaving the French

332

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V

court, was to repair to some neutral country,
but he was arrested by the Austrians, and car
ried to the fortress of Olmutz, in Moravia, where
his wife and daughter soon after joined him, to
console him in his confinement. He remained
in prison for five years, and was released at last
by the treaty of Campo-Formio, but not approv
ing of the arbitrary conduct of the Directory,
he repaired to Hamburg, and did not return
to France till after the 19th Brumaire, 1799.
Here he found himself again in opposition to
Bonaparte's ambition, and he voted against the
consulship for life, refused all employment under
that chief, and retired to the country, where he
applied himself to agricultural pursuits.
In 1815 he was returned to the house of rep
resentatives convoked by Napoleon, on his re
turn from Elba. After the defeat at Waterloo,
he spoke strongly against any attempt to estab
lish a dictatorship, and moved that the House
should declare its sittings permanent, and that
any attempt to dissolve it should be considered
as treason.
When Lucien appealed to the Assembly not
to forsake his brother in his adversity, Lafa
yette replied with great animation, " We have
followed your brother through the burning
sands of Syria, as well as to the frozen deserts
of Russia : the bleached bones of two millions
of Frenchmen scattered all over the globe attest
our devotion to him ; but that devotion," he
added, "is now exhausted, as his cause is no
longer the cause of the nation."
After the forced dissolution of the Legislative
Assembly by the allied troops, Lafayette pro
tested against that violence, and retired to his
country residence at Lagrange. In 1818 he was
returned, after a great struggle, to the Chamber
of Deputies for the department of La Sarthe.
During that and the following session he spoke
in favor of constitutional liberty, and against ex
ceptional laws, but to no effect.
In August, 1824, he landed at New York, on
a visit to the United States, upon the invitation
of the president, and was received, in every
part of the country, with the warmest expres
sions of delight and enthusiasm. He was pro
claimed by the popular voice, " the guest of the
nation," and his presence was everywhere the

signal for festivals and rejoicings. Having cele
brated, at Bunker Hill, the anniversary of the
first conflict of the Revolution, and, at York-
town, that of its closing scene, in which he him
self had borne so conspicuous a part, and taken
leave of the four ex-presidents of the United
States, he received the farewell of the president
in the name of the nation, and sailed from the
Capitol in a frigate named, in compliment to
him, the Brandywine, September 7th, 1825, and
arrived at Havre, where the citizens, having
peaceably assembled to make some demonstra
tion of their respect for his character, were dis
persed by the gendarmerie. In December pre
ceding, the Congress of the United States made
him a grant of $200,000, and a township of
land, " in consideration of his important services
and expenditures during the American Revolu
tion." In November, 1827, the Chamber of
Deputies was dissolved. Lafayette was again re
turned a member by the new elections. Shortly
before the revolution of 1830 he travelled to
Lyons, and was enthusiastically received. Dur
ing the revolution of July, 1830, he was ap
pointed general-in-chief of the national guards of
Paris, and though not personally engaged in the
fighting, his activity and name were of the
greatest service. In August he was made mar
shal of France. His influence with the govern
ment of Louis Philippe was at first apparently
great, but his stern devotion to freedom made
him unacceptable to that deceitful and grasping
government, and in December, 1830, he re
signed the command of the national guards.
Lafayette now occupied the same position in
the Chamber of Deputies that he had done
under the Restoration ; namely, on the extreme
left. He attended on foot the funeral of the
liberal member, Dulong, who had been killed
in a duel with General Bugeaud, January 30th,
1834. Overcome with fatigue, on his return to
his residence, he took to his bed, which he never
again quitted. He died on the 19th of May,
1834. His age was seventy-seven. He was
buried in the cemetery of Vigpers, a private
burial-ground of several families of the nobility
of Paris. Among the generous defenders of
American liberty, Lafayette, by general con
sent, is placed next to Washington.

CHAPTER II

1785—1788.
"WASHINGTON PRESIDES AT THE FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.
Washington attends to the cultivation of his land. — His methods. — He plants his grounds with ornamental trees. —
Numerous guests at Mount Vernon. — Washington's habits of living. — Visit of Mr. Watson.' — Interesting
anecdote. — Washington's attention to inland navigation. — The Cincinnati. — Its origin and objects. — Opposition
to it. — Its constitution changed. — Washington's attention to politics. — Defects of the old Confederation. —
Public debt. — No revenue. — Convention at Alexandria. — First impulse towards the formation of the Constitution
given at Alexandria. — Convention at Annapolis. — Letters of Mr. Jay. — Washington's reply. — Doings of the Con
vention at Annapolis. — Convention for the formation of a Constitution at Philadelphia appointed. — Virginia
appoints. deputies. — Madison informs Washington that he will be appointed a delegate. — He declines. — Governor
Randolph urges his acceptance. — Washington's answer. — Reasons for declining. — The insurrection in Massa
chusetts. — Washington's letters to Humphreys and Knox on that subject. — He consents to attend the Conven
tion. — Public honors paid to him on the journey to Philadelphia. — Reception at Philadelphia.— Visit to Dr.
Franklin. — Washington elected President of the Convention. — Letter to Jefferson. — Distinguished members of
the Convention. — Its general character. — Its attention to business. — Constitution completed and sent to Con
gress. — Submitted by Congress to the State Conventions. — Washington's correspondence respecting it. — His
letter to Lafayette. — Jefferson's letter. — Washington's letter to Trumbull. — The Constitution accepted by eleven
States. — Congress passes an act for forming a new government under the Constitution.

On first retiring to Mount Yernon,
Washington had devoted his attention
to the restoration of his estate to that
high condition of order and productive
ness which had been maintained, under
his own personal superintendence, pre
vious to the war. During his absence
of nine years, he had constantly corre
sponded with his manager, and given
particular directions respecting its cul
tivation. But it had suffered much in
his absence ; and he was determined to
renovate it by assiduous care. He gave
up the cultivation of tobacco, because
it had a tendency to exhaust the soil,
and planted wheat in its stead, giving
Vor,. II.— 43

attention, at the same time, to the pro
duction of grass, maize, potatoes, and
oats ; and pursuing the system of rota
tion in crops now considered so indis
pensable by intelligent farmers.
"When this system was well estab
lished, he commenced planting
and adorning with trees the
grounds surrounding the mansion-house.
His diary shows that he paid great
attention to this object, directing the
setting out of a great number and
variety of ornamental trees ; some of
them being obtained in the neighbor
ing woods, and others brought from a
great distance. He also replenished

334

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

his gardens, orchards, and green-houses
with choice fruits and flowers, which
were confided to the care of skilful
gardeners. Meantime the number of guests en
tertained at Mount Vernon was ever
on the increase. Many were known to
have crossed the Atlantic for the sole
purpose of visiting the founder of the
Republic. Among these was Mrs.
Catharine Macauley Graham. By the
principles contained in her History of
the Stuarts, this lady had acquired
much reputation in republican America,
and by all was received with marked
attention. She was cordially received
at Mount Vernon; and, if her letters
may be credited, the exalted opinion
she had formed of its proprietor, was
" not diminished by a personal acquaint
ance with him."
The French military and naval offi
cers, Lafayette, Rochambeau, D'Estaing,
and others, gave letters of introduction
to be presented to Washington by their
friends, whenever any of them came to
America ; and those letters were always
duly honored by hospitable attentions
to those who bore them. His own
compatriots were still more numerous
and more assiduous in attention to the
retired commander. Officers who had
served with him in the old French war
and in the Revolution, members of Con
gress, politicians, and magistrates from
distant States, were among the guests
at Mount Vernon ; so that Washington's
time would thus have been completely
taken up, but for the efficient aid which

he received in discharging the duties of
hospitality from the ease, urbanity, and
excellent management of his accom
plished lady.
" His habits," says Mr. Sparks, " were
uniform, and nearly the same as they
had been previously to the war. He
rose before the sun, and employed
himself in his study, writing letters or
reading till the hour of breakfast. When
breakfast was over, his horse was ready
at the door, and he rode to his farms,
and gave directions for the day to the
managers and laborers. Horses were
likewise prepared for his guests, when
ever they chose to accompany him, or
to amuse themselves by excursions into
the country. Returning from his fields,
and dispatching such business as hap
pened to be on hand, he went again to
his study, and continued there till three
o'clock, when he was summoned to
dinner. The remainder of the day and
the evening were devoted to company,
or to recreation in the family circle.
At ten he retired to rest. From these
habits he seldom deviated, unless com
pelled to do so by particular circum
stances."* In a delightful memoirf of his own
life and times by Mr. Elkanah Watson,
we find the following interesting notice
of Washington at home ; and we also
learn what subject chiefly occupied his
thoughts at the time of which we are
writing :
* Life of Washington, p. 389.
f ' ' Men and Times of the Revolution, or Memoirs of Elkanah
XVatson."

Chap. II,]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

335

"I had feasted my imagination for
several days," says Mr. Watson, " on the
near prospect of a visit to Mount Ver
non — the seat of Washington. No pil
grim ever approached Mecca with deep
er enthusiasm. I arrived there on the
afternoon of January 23d, 1*785. I was
the bearer of a letter from General
Greene, with another from Colonel Fitz
gerald, one of the former aids of Wash
ington, and also the books from Gran
ville Sharpe. Although assured that
these credentials would secure me a re
spectful reception, I felt an unaccounta
ble diffidence as I came into the pres
ence of this great man. I found him at
table, with Mrs. Washington and his
private family, and was received with
the native dignity and urbanity so pe
culiarly combined in the character of a
soldier and eminent private gentleman.
He soon put me at ease, by unbending
in a free and affable conversation.
" The cautious reserve, which wisdom
and policy dictated, whilst engaged in
rearing the glorious fabric of our inde
pendence, was evidently the result of
consummate prudence, and not charac
teristic of his nature. Although I had
frequently seen him in the progress of
the Revolution, and had corresponded
with him from France in 1781 and 1782,
this was the first occasion on which I
had contemplated him in his private re
lations. I observed a peculiarity in his
smile, which seemed to illuminate his
eye. ;.- his whole countenance beamed
with intelligence, while it commanded
confidence and respect. The gentleman

who had accompanied me from Alexan
dria, left in the evening ; and I re
mained alone, in the enjoyment of the
society of Washington, for two of the
richest days of my life. I saw him reap
ing the reward of his illustrious deeds,
in the quiet shade of his beloved retire
ment. He was at the matured age of
fifty-three. Alexander died before he
reached that period of life, and he had
immortalized his name. How much
stronger and nobler the claims of Wash
ington to immortality ! In the impulses
of mad, selfish ambition, Alexander ac
quired fame, by wading, to the conquest
of the world, through seas of blood.
Washington, on the contrary, was par
simonious of the blood of his country
men, stood forth the pure and virtuous
champion of their rights, and formed for
them, not himself, a mighty empire.
"To have communed with such a
man, in the bosom of his family, I shall
always regard as one of the highest
privileges and most cherished incidents
of my life. I found him kind and be
nignant in the domestic circle, revered
and beloved by all around him, agreea
bly social, without ostentation ; delight
ing in anecdote and adventures, without
assumption ; his domestic arrangements.
harmonious and systematic. His ser
vants seemed to watch his eye, and to
anticipate his every wish ; hence a look
was equivalent to a command. His ser
vant Billy, the faithful companion of his
military career, was always at his side.
Smiling content animated and beamed
on every countenance in his presence.

336

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

" The first evening I spent under the
wing of his hospitality, we sat a full
hour at table, by ourselves, without the
least interruption, after the family had
retired. I was extremely oppressed with
a severe cold and excessive coughing,
contracted from the exposure of a harsh
winter journey. He pressed me to use
some remedies, but I declined doing so.
As usual after retiring, my cough in
creased. When some time had elapsed,
the door of my room was gently opened,
and, on drawing my bed-curtains, to my
utter astonishment I beheld Washington
himself, standing at my bed-side, with a
bowl of hot tea in his hand. I was mor
tified 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 the private virtue of
Washington, it deserves to be recorded.
" He modestly waived all allusions to
the events in which he had acted so
glorious and conspicuous a part. Much
of his conversation had reference to the
interior country, and to the opening of
the navigation of the Potomac, by ca
nals and locks at the Seneca, the Great,
and the Little Falls. His mind ap
peared to be deeply absorbed in that
object, then in earnest contemplation.
He allowed me to take minutes from his
former journal on this subject, of which
the following is a partial summary :
" ' The stock of the company is divi
ded into five hundred shares, at fifty
pounds sterling each. The canal com
pany has been incorporated by both

Maryland and Virginia.' Washington
had accepted the presidency of it. ' The
preliminary preparations are in full train,
to commence operations in the ensuing
spring, not only to remove the obstacles
in the Potomac to a boat navigation
from Georgetown to Fort Cumberland,
a distance of one hundred and ninety
miles, but to the ultimate construction
of a canalr to Lake Erie, which is in
tended, not only to give a direction to
the fur-trade from Detroit to Alexan
dria, but to attract the eventual trade
of the country north of the Ohio, which
now slumbers in a state of nature.' This
scheme was worthy of the comprehen
sive mind of Washington.
"To demonstrate the practicability and
the policy of diverting the trade of the
immense interior world, yet unexplored,
to the Atlantic cities, especially in view
of the idea that the Mississippi would
be opened by Spain, Avas his constant
and favorite theme. To elucidate the
probability, also, that the Detroit fur-
trade would take this direction, he pro
duced the following estimates, which I
copied, in his presence and with his aid,
from the original manuscript :
"From Detroit, at the head of Lake Erie,
via Fort Pitt (now Pittsburg) and Fort Cum
berland, to the head of the
Potomac, is  60V miles.
To Eichmond  840 "
To Philadelphia  '741 "
To Albany  943 "
To Montreal  955 "
"Thus it appeared that Alexandria
is three hundred and forty-eight miles

Chap. IL]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

337

nearer Detroit than Montreal, with
only two carrying places of about forty
miles " Since my travels in 1779, I had
been deeply and constantly impressed
with the importance of constructing
canals, to connect the various waters of
America. This conviction was con
firmed, under the examination of nume
rous canals of Europe, and travelling
extensively on several of them. Hear
ing little else for two days, from the
persuasive tongue of this great man, I
was, I confess, completely under the
influence of the canal mania, and it
enkindled all my enthusiasm."
Among the objects w7hich claimed
the attention of Washington in his
retirement, was a change in the consti
tution of the Cincinnati. This society
had been formed in May, 1783, when
the army was encamped at Newburg.
The prospect of speedily separating
from each other, had suggested the
plan of forming an association among
the officers to serve as a tie of brother
hood for the future.
This idea was suggested by General
Knox, and was matured in a meeting
composed of the generals, and of depu
ties from the regiments, at which Major-
general Steuben presided. An agree
ment was then entered into, by which
the officers were to constitute themselves
into one society of friends, to endure as
long as they should endure, or any of
their eldest male posterity; and, in
failure thereof, any collateral branches
who might be judged worthy of becom

ing its supporters and members, were
to be admitted into it. To mark their
veneration for that celebrated Roman
between whose situation and their own
they found some similitude, they were
to be denominated, " The Society of the
Cincinnati." Individuals of the respec
tive States, distinguished for their
patriotism and abilities, might be ad
mitted as honorary members for life,
provided their numbers should at no
time exceed a ratio of one to four.
The society was to be designated
by a medal of gold representing the
American eagle bearing on its breast
the devices of the order, which was to
be suspended by a ribbon of deep blue
edged with white, descriptive of the
union of America and France. To the
ministers who had represented the king
of France at Philadelphia, to the admi
rals who had commanded in the Ameri
can seas, to the Count de Rochambeau,
and the generals and colonels of the
French troops who had served in the
United States, the insignia of the order
were to be presented, and they were to
be invited to consider themselves as
members of the society ; at the head of
which the commander-in-chief was re
spectfully solicited to place his name.
An incessant attention, on the part of
the members, to the preservation of the
exalted rights and liberties of human
nature, for which they had fought and
bled, and an unalterable determination
to promote and cherish between the
respective States union and national
honor, Avere declared to be the immuta-

338

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

ble principles of the society. Its ob
jects were, to perpetuate the remem
brance of the American revolution, as
well as cordial affection and the spirit
of brotherly kindness among the officers ;
and to extend acts of beneficence to
those officers and their families whose
situation might require assistance. To
give effect to the charitable object of
the institution, a common fund was to
be created by the deposit of one month's
pay on the part of every officer becom
ing a member ; the product of which
fund, after defraying certain necessary
charges, was to be sacredly appropriated
to this humane purpose.
The military gentlemen of each State
were to constitute a distinct society,
deputies from which were to assemble
triennially, in order to form a general
meeting for the regulation of general
concerns. Without encountering any open op
position, this institution was carried
into complete effect; and its honors
were sought, especially by the foreign
officers, with great avidity. But soon
after it was organized, those jealousies
which in its first moments had been
concealed, burst forth into open view.
In October, 1783, a pamphlet was pub
lished by Mr. Burk of South Carolina,
for the purpose of rousing the appre
hensions of the public, and of directing
its resentments against the society. In
this work, it was denounced as an
attempt to form an order of nobility.
The hereditary feature of the constitu
tion, and the power of conferring its

honors on distinguished personages, not
descended from the officers of the army,
were considered particularly inconsis
tent with the genius of our republican
institutions. In Massachusetts, the sub
ject was even taken up by the legisla
ture ; and it was well understood that,
in Congress, the society was viewed with
secret disapprobation.
It was impossible for Washington to
view with indifference this state of the
public feeling. Bound to the officers of
his army by the strictest ties of esteem
and affection, conscious of their merits,
and assured of their attachment to his
person, he was alive to every thing
which might affect their reputation or
their interests. However innocent the
institution might be in itself, or how
ever laudable its real objects, if the
impression it made on the public mind
was such as to draw aline of distinction
between the military men of America
and their fellow-citizens, he was earnest
in his wishes to adopt such measures as
would efface that impression. However
ill-founded the public prejudices might
be, he thought this a case in which they
ought to be respected ; and, if it should
be found impracticable to convince the
people that their fears were misplaced,
he Avas disposed " to yield to them in a
degree, and not to suffer that Avhich Avas
intended for the best of purposes, , to
produce a bad one."
A general meeting was to be held in
Philadelphia in May, 1784; and, in the
mean time, he had been appointed the
temporary president.

Chap, n.]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

339

Washington was too much in the
habit of considering subjects of diffi
culty in various points of view, and of
deciding on them with coolness and
deliberation, to permit his affections to
influence his judgment. The most exact
inquiries, assiduously made into the true
state of the public mind, resulted in a
conviction that opinions unfriendly to
the institution, in its actual form, were
extensively entertained ; and that those
opinions were founded, not in hostility
to the late army, but in real apprehen
sions for equal liberty.
A wise and necessary policy required,
he thought, the removal of these ap
prehensions ; and, at the general meet
ing in May, the hereditary principle,
and the power of adopting honorary
members, were relinquished. The result
demonstrated the propriety of this al
teration. Although a few, who always
perceive most danger where none exists,
and the visionaries then abounding in
Europe, continued their prophetic de
nunciations against the order, America
dismissed her fears ; and, notwithstand
ing the refusal of several of the State
societies to adopt the measures recom
mended by the general meeting, the
members of the Cincinnati were re
ceived as brethren into the bosom of
their country.*
While Washington was engaged in
the cultivation of his extensive estate,
his thoughts were by no means with
drawn from the political concerns of
0 Marshall, Life of Washington.

the country, which at this time were
assuming rather an ominous aspect.
His correspondence evinces that his
advice was much sought for by the
leading men in the country, and that
his opinions on the aspect of public
affairs were freely given. The want of
power in the central government, aris
ing from the defects of the old confed
eration, was becoming more and more
apparent, and the evils arising from
this want of power were pressing se
verely on every side. While the war
lasted, the external pressure held the
government together ; but on the re
turn of peace its dissolution had be
come imminent. Large debts had been
contracted to pay the expenses of the
war ; and although an attempt had
been made to establish a general sys
tem of revenue from duties on imports,
individual States had obstructed the
prosecution of this plan, and the gov
ernment had found itself unable to
raise the funds necessary to pay the
interest on the public debt. It had, in
fact, no power to regulate commerce or
collect a revenue. This made it inca
pable of executing treaties, fulfilling its
foreign engagements, or causing itself
to be respected by foreign nations.
While at home, its weakness was dis
gusting the public creditors and raising
a clamor of discontent and disaffection
on every side. An alarming crisis was
rapidly approaching.
By the enlightened friends of repub
lican government, this gloomy state of
things was viewed with deep chagrin.

340

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

Many became apprehensive that those
plans from which so much happiness to
the human race had been anticipated,
would produce only real misery; and
would maintain but a short and a tur
bulent existence. Meanwhile, the wise
and thinking part of the community,
who could trace evils to their source,
labored unceasingly to inculcate opin
ions favorable to the incorporation of
some principles into the political sys
tem, which might correct the obvious
vices, Avithout endangering the free
spirit of the existing institutions.
While the advocates for union were
exerting themselves to impress its ne
cessity on the public mind, measures
were taken in Virginia, which, though
originating in different views, termi
nated in a proposition for a general
convention to revise the state of the
Union. To form a compact relative to the
navigation of the rivers Potomac and
Pocomoke, and of part of Chesapeake
Bay, commissioners Avere appointed by
the legislatures of Virginia and Mary
land, who assembled in Alexandria, in
March, 1785. While at Mount Vernon
on a visit,* they agreed to propose to
their respective governments the ap
pointment of other commissioners, with
power to make conjoint arrangements,
to which the assent of Congress was to
° It is a very interesting fact, that the proposition in
which the Convention that formed the Constitution
originated, should have been made at Mount Vernon, in
Washington's presence, if not by himself. As Faneuil
Hall is called the Cradle of Liberty, Mount Vernon may
be regarded as the Cradle of the Constitution.

be solicited, for maintaining a naval
force in the Chesapeake ; and to estab
lish a tariff of duties on imports, to
which the laws of both States should
conform. When these propositions re
ceived the assent of the legislature of
Virginia, an additional resolution was
passed, directing that which respected
the duties on imports to be communi
cated to all the States in the Union,
who were invited to send deputies to
the meeting.
On the 21st of January, 1786, a few
days after the passage of these resolu
tions, another was adopted appointing
Edmund Randolph, James Madison,
Walter Jones, St. George Tucker, and
Meriwether Smith, commissioners, "who
were to meet such as might be appoint
ed by the other States in the Union, at
a time and place to be agreed on, to
take into consideration the trade of the
United States ; to examine the relative
situation and trade of the said States ;
to consider how far a uniform system
in their commercial relations may be
necessary to their common interest, and
their permanent harmony; and to re
port to the several States such an act
relative to this great object, as, when
unanimously ratified by them, will en
able the United States in Congress as
sembled effectually to provide for the
same." In the circular letter transmitting
these resolutions to the respective
States, Annapolis, in Maryland, was
proposed as the place, and the ensuing
September as the time of meeting.

Chap. IL]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

341

Before the arrival of the period at
which these commissioners were to as
semble, the idea was carried, by those
who saw and deplored the complicated
calamities which flowed from the ineffi-
cacy of the general government, much
further than was avowed by the reso
lution of Virginia. "Although," said
Mr. Jay,* one of the most conspicuous
patriots of the Revolution, in a letter
to Washington, dated the 16th of
March, 1786, "you have wisely retired
from public employments, and calmly
view, from the temple of fame, the va
rious exertions of that sovereignty and
independence which Providence has en
abled you to be so greatly and glo
riously instrumental in securing to your
country, yet I am persuaded you cannot
view them with the eye of an uncon
cerned spectator.
"Experience has pointed out errors
in our national government which call
for correction, and which threaten to
blast the fruit we expected from our
tree of liberty. The convention pro
posed by Virginia may do some good,
and would perhaps do more, if it com
prehended more objects. An opinion
begins to prevail that a general con
vention for reA^sing the articles of
confederation would be expedient.
Whether the people are yet ripe for
such a measure, or whether the system
proposed to be attained by it is only
to be expected from calamity and com
motion, is difficult to ascertain.

* See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.
Vol. IL— 44

" I think we are in a delicate situa
tion, and a variety of considerations
and . circumstances give me uneasiness.
It is in contemplation to take measures
for forming a general convention. The
plan is not matured. If it should be
well connected and take effect, I am
fervent in my wishes that it may com
port Avith the line of life you have
marked out for yourself, to favor your
country with your counsels on such an
important and single occasion. I sug
gest this merely as a hint for considera
tion." To the patriots who accomplished
the great revolution which gave to the
American people a national government
capable of maintaining the union of the
States, and of preserving republican lib
erty, we must ever feel grateful, and
admire and honor them for their ser
vices during that arduous and doubtful
struggle, which terminated in the tri
umph of human reason, and the estab
lishment of a free government. To us
who were not actors in those busy
scenes, but who enjoy the fruits of the
labor without having participated in
the toils or the fears of the patriots who
achieved such glorious results, the sen
timents entertained by the most en
lightened and virtuous of America at
that eventful period, cannot be uninter
esting. " Our affairs," said Mr. Jay, in a let
ter of the 27th of June, "seem to lead
to some crisis, some revolution— some
thing that I cannot foresee or conjec
ture. I am uneasy and apprehensive.

342

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

more so than during the war. Then,
we had a fixed object, and though the
means and time of obtaining it were
often problematical, yet I did firmly
believe that we should ultimately suc
ceed, because I did firmly believe that
justice Avas with us. The case is now
altered; we are going and doing wrong,
and therefore I look forward to evils
and calamities, but without being able
to guess at the instrument, nature, or
measure of them.
"That we shall again recover, and
things again go well, I have no doubt.
Such a A^ariety of circumstances would
not, almost miraculously, have com
bined to liberate and make us a nation,
for transient and unimportant purposes.
I therefore believe we are yet to be
come a great and respectable people;
but when or how, only the spirit of
prophecy can discern.
"There doubtless is much reason to
think and to say that Ave are wofully,
and, in many instances, wickedly mis
led. Private rage for property sup
presses public considerations, and per
sonal rather than national interests have
become the great objects of attention.
Representative bodies will ever be
faithful copies of their originals, and
generally exhibit a checkered assem
blage of virtue and vice, of abilities
and weakness. The mass of men are
neither wise nor good ; and the virtue,
like the other resources of a country,
can only be drawn to a point by strong
circumstances ably managed, or strong
gOA'ernments ably administered. NeAV

governments have not the aid of habit
and hereditary respect, and being gen
erally the result of preceding tumult
and confusion, do not immediately ac
quire stability or strength. Besides, in
times of commotion, some men will gain
confidence and importance who merit
neither ; and who, like political mount
ebanks, are less solicitous about the
health of the credulous crowd, than
about making the most of their nos
trums and prescriptions.
"What I most fear is, that the better
kind of people (by which I mean the
people who are orderly and industrious,
who are content with their situations,
and not uneasy in their circumstances)
will be led by the insecurity of prop
erty, the loss of confidence in their
rulers, and the want of public faith
and rectitude, to consider the charms
of liberty as imaginary and delusive.
A state of uncertainty and fluctuation
must disgust and alarm such men, and
prepare their minds for almost any
change that may promise them quiet
and security."
To this interesting letter, Washington
made the following reply : " Your sen
timents, that our affairs are drawing
rapidly to a crisis, accord with my ovra.
What the event will be, is also beyond
the reach of my foresight. We have
errors to correct ; we have probably
had too good an opinion of human na
ture in forming our confederation. Ex
perience has taught us that men will
not adopt and carry into execution
measures the best calculated for their

Chap. IL]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

343

own good, without the intervention of
coercive power. I do not conceive we
can exist long as a nation, without lodg
ing somewhere a power which will per
vade the whole Union in as energetic a
manner as the authority of the State
governments extends over the several
States. To be fearful of investing Con
gress, constituted as that body is, with
ample authorities for national purposes,
appears to me the very climax of popu
lar absurdity and madness. Could Con
gress exert them for the detriment of
the people, without injuring themselves
in an equal or greater proportion ? Are
not their interests inseparably connect
ed Avith those of their constituents ?
By the rotation of appointment, must
they not mingle frequently with the
mass of citizens ? Is it not rather to be
apprehended, if they were possessed of
the powers before described, that the
individual members would be induced
to use them, on many occasions, very
timidly and inefficaciously, for fear of
losing their popularity and future elec
tion? We must take human nature as
we find it ; perfection falls not to the
share of mortals. Many are of opinion
that Congress have too frequently made
use of the suppliant humble tone of
requisition, in applications to the States,
when they had a right to assert their
imperial dignity, and command obedi
ence. Be that as it may, requisitions
are a perfect nullity, where thirteen sov
ereign, independent, disunited States
are in the habit of discussing, and re
fusing or complying with them at their

option. Requisitions are actually little
better than a jest and a by-word
throughout the land. If you tell the
legislatures they have violated the
treaty of peace, and invaded the pre
rogatives of the confederacy, they will
laugh in your face. What then is to
be done ? Things cannot go on in the
same train forever. It is much to be
feared, as you observe, that the better
kind of people, being disgusted with
these circumstances, will have their
minds prepared for any revolution
whatever. We are apt to run from
one extreme into another. To antici
pate and prevent disastrous contingen
cies, would be the part of wisdom and
patriotism. " What astonishing changes a few
years are capable of producing ! I am
told that even respectable characters
speak of a monarchical form of govern
ment without horror. From thinking
proceeds speaking : thence to acting is
often but a single step. But how irrevoca
ble and tremendous ! what a triumph for
our enemies to verify their predictions !
what a triumph for the advocates of des
potism, to find that we are incapable of
governing ourselves, and that systems
founded on the basis of equal liberty
are merely ideal and fallacious ! Would
to God that wise measures may be taken
in time to avert the consequences we
have but too much reason to appre
hend. " Retired as I am from the world, I
frankly acknowledge I cannot feel my
self an unconcerned spectator. Yet

344

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

having happily assisted in bringing the
ship into port, and having been fairly
discharged, it is not my business to em
bark again on a sea of troubles.
" Nor could it be expected that my
sentiments and opinions would ha\^e
much weight on the minds of my coun
trymen. They have been neglected,
though giAren as a last legacy in the most
solemn manner. I had then perhaps
some claims to public attention. I con
sider myself as having none at present."
The Convention at Annapolis was at
tended by commissioners from only six
States — NeAv York, NeAV Jersey, Penn
sylvania, Delaware, Maryland, and Vir
ginia. These, after appointing Mr. Dick
inson their chairman, proceeded to discuss
the objects for which they had convened.
Perceiving that more ample powers
would be required to effect the benefi
cial purposes which they contemplated,
and hoping to procure a representation
from a greater number of States, the
Convention determined to rise without
coming to any specific resolutions on the
particular subject which had been re
ferred to them. Previous to their ad
journment, howeA^er, they agreed on a
report to be made to their respective
States, in which they represented the
necessity of extending the revision of
the federal system to all its defects, and
recommended that deputies for that
purpose be appointed by the several
legislatures, to meet in convention in
the city of Philadelphia, on the second
day of the ensuing May.
The reasons for preferring a conven-

1786.

tion to a discussion of this subject in
Congress, were stated to be, "that in
the latter body it might be too much
interrupted by the ordinary business be
fore them, and would, besides, be de
prived of the valuable counsels of sun
dry individuals who were disqualified
by the constitution or laws of particular
States, or by peculiar circumstances,
from a seat in that assembly."
A copy of this report was transmitted
to Congress in a letter from the chair
man, stating the inefficacy of the federal
government, and the necessity of de
vising such further provisions as would
render it adequate to the exigencies of
the Union.
On receiving this report, the legisla
ture of Virginia passed an act
for the appointment of deputies
to meet such as might be appointed by
other States ; to assemble in convention
at Philadelphia, at the time and for the
purposes specified in the recommenda
tion from the Convention which had met
at Annapolis.
When the plan of a convention was
thus ripened, and its meeting appointed
to be at Philadelphia in May, 1787, Mr.
Madison communicated to Washington
the intention of that State to elect him
one of her representatives on this im
portant occasion. He explicitly declined
being a candidate ; yet the legislature
placed him at the head of her delegation,
in the hope that mature reflection would
induce him to attend upon the service.
The governor of the State, Mr. Ran
dolph, informed him of his appointment

Chap, n.]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

345

by the following letter : " By the in
closed act you will readily discover that
the Assembly are alarmed at the storms
which threaten the United States. What
our enemies have foretold seems to be
hastening to its accomplishment, and
cannot be frustrated but by an instan
taneous, zealous, and steady union among
the friends of the federal government.
To you I need not press our present
dangers. The inefficacy of Congress you
have often felt in your official character ;
the increasing languor of our associated
republics you hourly see ; and a dissolu
tion would be, I know, to you a source
of the deepest mortification. I freely
then entreat you to accept the unani
mous appointment of the General As
sembly to the Convention at Philadel
phia. For the gloomy prospect still
admits one ray of hope — that those who
began, carried on, and consummated the
Revolution, can yet restore America from
the impending ruin."
" Sensible as I am," said Washington
in his answer, " of the honor conferred
on me by the General Assembly of this
commonwealth, in appointing me one of
the deputies to a convention proposed
to be held in the city of Philadelphia in
May next, for the purpose of revising
the federal constitution ; and desirous as
I am on all occasions of testifying a
ready obedience to the calls of my coun
try, yet, sir, there exist at this moment
circumstances which I am persuaded
Avill render this fresh instance of confi
dence incompatible with other measures
which I had previously adopted, and

from Avhich, seeing little prospect of dis
engaging myself, it would be disingenu
ous not to express a wish that some other
character, on whom greater reliance can
be had, may be substituted in my place,
the probability of my non-attendance
being too great to continue my appoint
ment. " As no mind can be more deeply im
pressed than mine is with the critical
situation of our affairs, resulting in a
great measure from the want of efficient
powers in the federal head, and due re
spect to its ordinances, so consequently
those who do engage in the important
business of removing these defects, will
carry with them every good wish of
mine, which the best dispositions to-
Avards their obtainment can bestow."
The governor declined the acceptance
of his resignation of the appointment,
and begged him to suspend his deter
mination until the approach of the pe
riod of the meeting of the Convention,
that his final judgment might be the re
sult of a full acquaintance with all cir
cumstances. Thus situated, Washington reviewed
the subject, that he might, upon thor
ough deliberation, make the decision
which duty and patriotism enjoined. He
had, by a circular letter to the State so
cieties, declined being re-elected the
president of the Cincinnati, and had an
nounced that he should not attend their
general meeting at Philadelphia in the
next May ; and he apprehended, that if
he attended the Convention at the time
and place of their meeting, he should

346

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V

give offence to all the officers of the late
army Avho composed this body. He
was under apprehension that the States
would not be generally represented on
this occasion, and that a failure in the
plan would diminish the personal influ
ence of those who engaged in it. Some
of his confidential friends were of opin
ion that the occasion did not require his
interposition, and that he ought to re
serve himself for a state of things Avhich
would unequivocally demand his agency
and influence. Even on the supposi
tion that the plan should succeed, they
thought that he ought not to engage
in it ; because his having been in Con
vention would oblige him to make
exertions to carry the measures that
body might recommend into effect, and
would necessarily " sweep him into the
tide of public affairs." His own expe
rience since the close of the Revolution
ary War, created in his mind serious
doubts whether the respective States
would quietly adopt any system calcu
lated to give stability and vigor to the
national government. " As we could
not," to use his own language, " remain
quiet more than three or four years in
times of peace, under the constitutions
of our own choosing, which were be
lieved in many States to have been
formed with deliberation and wisdom, I
see little prospect either of our agreeing
on any other, or that Ave should remain
long satisfied under it, if we could. Yet
I would Avish any thing and every thing
essayed to prevent the effusion of blood,
and to diA^ert the humiliating and con

temptible figure we are about to make
in the annals of mankind."
These considerations operated power
fully to confirm him in the determina
tion first formed, not to attend the Con
vention. On the other hand, he realized the
greatness of the emergency. The con
federation was universally considered as
a nullity. The advice of a convention.
composed of respectable characters from
eveiy part of the Union, would proba
bly have great influence with the com
munity, whether it should be to amend
the articles of the old government, or to
form a new constitution.
Amidst the various sentiments which
at this time prevailed respecting the
state of public affairs, many entertained
the supposition that the "times must
be worse before they could be better,"
and that the American people could be
induced to establish an efficient and
liberal national government only by
the scourge of anarchy. Some seemed
to think that the experiment of a re
publican government in America had
already failed, and that one more ener
getic would soon by violence be intro
duced. Washington entertained some
apprehension, that his declining to
attend the Convention would be con
sidered as a dereliction of republican
principles. While he was balancing these op
posite circumstances in his mind, the
insurrection of Massachusetts* occurred,
s The occasion and effect of this insurrection, com
monly called Shay's rebellion, are thus described by a

Chap. IL]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

347

which turned the scale of opinion in
favor of his joining the Convention.
recent writer. The jealousy felt towards the statesmen
of the Eepublic, or towards the upper by the middle
class, — if the terms may be allowed, — was likely to
operate fatally in marring the project of a constitution,
and rendering any innovation for the purpose impracti
cable ; since the dissentient States were resolved not to
choose delegates, or accede to the desire of Virginia.
These democratic opinions of the middle classes, how
ever, and the resolutions founded upon them, were
eventually shaken and overturned by the extreme to
which they were carried by the lower orders. These
were no sooner inspired by the same political feelings,
than, after their fashion, they rose in insurrection ; bade
defiance not only to Congress, but to the State au
thorities themselves ; and, collecting in armed bands,
threatened to effect a serious revolution by taking law and
property into their own hands. The New England States,
principally Massachusetts, were the scenes of these dis
orders, which took place towards the close of 1786.
A body of 2000 men, assembled in the northwestern
region of the State, chose one of their number, Daniel
Shay, for leader. They asked for suspension of taxes,
and the remission of paper money ; but it was known
that their favorite scheme was that of an agrarian law,
— a general division of property. Respectable classes
were of course thrown into alarm ; Congress recovered
a portion of that vigor which had marked it during the
war ; troops were dispatched, under General Lincoln
and other officers, against the insurgents ; and the citi
zens of the New England towns forgot their late jealousy
of the military, so far as to join them in the task of
putting down their domestic foes. Funds were raised
by private subscription to supply the emptiness of the
public treasury ; and an efficient force was enabled to
march, in the midst of winter, against the insurgents,
who were soon dispersed and reduced.
The rebellion thus suppressed was productive of the
most salutary result. The middle classes, terrified at
the exaggeration of their own doctrines, and at the
risk of exciting the mob as supporters, rallied univer
sally to the support of Congress. Jealousy of those
above was counterbalanced by fear of those below ; and
the majority of the State legislatures was brought to
coincide with the views of the federal statesmen. Con
vinced by late experience of the necessity of an estab
lished and general government, even for purposes of
domestic security, the hitherto refractory States named,
without hesitation, their delegates to the appointed
convention for forming a constitution. Rhode Island
alone refused.

He viewed this event as awfully alarm
ing. "For God's sake, tell me," said
he, in a letter to Colonel Humphreys,
"what is the cause of all these com
motions ? Do they proceed from licen
tiousness, British influence disseminated
by the tories, or real grievances which
admit of redress ? If the latter, why
was redress delayed until the public
mind had become so much agitated ?
If the former, why are not the powers
of the government tried at once ? It
is as well to be without as not to exer
cise them."
To General Knox and other friends,
similar apprehensions were expressed.
" I feel infinitely more than I can ex
press to you, for the disorders which
have arisen in these States. Good God !
who besides a tory could have foreseen,
or a Briton have predicted them? I
do assure you that even at this moment,
Avhen I reflect upon the present aspect
of our affairs, it seems to me like the
visions of a dream. My mind can
scarcely realize it as a thing in actual
existence, so strange, so wonderful,
does it appear to me. In this, as in
most other matters, we are too slow.
When this spirit first dawned,. it might
probably have been easily checked ;
but it is scarcely within the reach of
human ken, at this moment, to say
when, where, or how it will terminate.
There are combustibles in every State,
to which a spark might set fire. In
bewailing, which I have often done
with the keenest sorrow, the death
of our much-lamented friend, General

348

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

Greene, I have accompanied my regrets
of late Avith a query, whether he would
not have preferred such an exit to the
scenes which it is more than probable
many of his compatriots may live to
bemoan.. * * *
" You talk, my good sir, of employ
ing influence to appease the present
tumults in Massachusetts. I know not
where that influence is to be found ;
nor if attainable, that it would be a
proper remedy for these disorders.
Influence is not government. Let us
have a government by wrhich our lives,
liberties, and properties will be secured ;
or let us know the worst at once. Under
these impressions, my humble opiniou is
that there is a call for decision. Know
then precisely what the insurgents aim
at. If they have real grievances, re
dress them if possible ; or acknowledge
the justice of them, and your inability
to do it in the present moment. If they
have not, employ the force of the gov
ernment against them at once. If this
is inadequate, all will be convinced that
the superstructure is bad, or wants
support. To be more exposed in the
eyes of the world, and more contempti
ble than we already are, is hardly
possible. To delay one or the other of
these expedients, is to exasperate on
the one hand, or to give confidence on
the other, and will add to their num
bers; for, like snow-balls, such bodies
increase by every movement, unless
there is something in the way to ob
struct and crumble them, before their
weight is too great and irresistible.

" These are my sentiments. Prece
dents are dangerous things. Let the
reins of government then be braced,
and held with a steady hand, and every
violation of the constitution be repre
hended. If defective, let it be amended,
but not suffered to be trampled upon
while it has an existence."
Colonel Humphreys having intimated
by letter his apprehension that civil
discord was near, in which event he
would be obliged to act a public part,
or to leave the continent — " It is," said
Washington in reply, "with the deepest
and most heartfelt concern, I perceive,
by some late paragraphs extracted from
the Boston papers, that the insurgents
of Massachusetts, far from being satis
fied with the redress offered by their
General Court, are still acting in open
violation of law and government, and
have obliged the chief magistrate, in a
decided tone, to call upon the militia of
the State to support the constitution.
"What, gracious God, is man, that
there should be such inconsistency and
perfidiousness in his conduct ! It is but
the other day that we were shedding
our blood to obtain the constitutions
under which we live — constitutions of
our own choice and making ; and now
we are unsheathing the sword to o\Ter-
turn them. The thing is so unaccount
able that I hardly know how to realize
it; or to persuade myself that I am not
under the illusion of a dream. My
mind, previous to the receipt of your
letter of the first ultimo, had often been
agitated by a thought similar to the

Chap. IL]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

349

one you expressed respecting a friend
of yours; but heaven forbid that a
crisis should come, when he shall be
driven to the necessity of making a
choice of either of the alternatives
there mentioned."
Having learned that the States had
generally elected their representatives
to the Convention, and Congress hav
ing given its sanction to it, he on the
28th of March communicated to the
governor of Virginia his consent to
act as one of the delegates of his State
on this important occasion.
When this determination was formed,
Washington at once commenced his
preparations to leave Mount Vernon at
an early day, so that he might be able
to be present at the meeting of the
Cincinnati ; but on the 26 th of
April, he received intelligence
by an express that his mother and
sister were dangerously ill at Fred
ericksburg. He immediately set off for
that place, and the detention, thus oc
casioned, prevented his meeting the
Cincinnati. After remaining three days
at Fredericksburg, his mother and sister
being partially recovered, he returned
to Mount Vernon ; and was enabled to
complete his preparations for leaving
home in season to arrive in Philadelphia
on the 13th of May, the day before the
opening of the Convention*
Public honors had awaited him every
where on his route. At Chester, he was
met by General Mifflin, then speaker

13 Sparks, Writings of Washington.
Voi. II.-45

1T8T.

of the Assembly of Pennsylvania, and
several officers of the army, and other
public characters, who accompanied him
to Gray's Ferry, where his former escort,
the " First Troop" of Philadelphia, were
waiting to conduct him to the city. On
his arrival, he paid his first visit to Dr.
Franklin, president of the State of
Pennsylvania, who had also been elected
a member of the Convention.
On the next day the Convention
assembled, which was to accomplish
one of the most splendid works
¦ T • i -i i May
that ever was achieved by nu- n,
1 •yg'J'
man wisdom. Several days, how
ever, elapsed before a quorum of mem
bers could be formed. When the mo
ment for commencing the organization
of the Convention arrived, Robert
Morris, on behalf of the Pennsylvania
delegation, nominated Washington as
its president. John Rutledge of South
Carolina, future chief-justice of the
United States, seconded the nomination,
remarking at the same time, that the
presence of General Washington for
bade any observations on the occasion
which might not be proper. He was
elected by a unanimous vote. By this
act the Convention did but fulfil the
wishes of the whole nation. A crisis
had arrived in which all eyes were
turned to the Great Founder for deliver
ance. To use his own language in a
letter written to Mr. Jefferson
a few days later, " That some
thing is necessary, none will deny ; for
the general government, if it can be
called a government, is shaken to its

May 30.

350

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

foundation, and liable to be overturned
by every blast. In a word, it is at an
end ; and, unless a remedy is soon
applied, anarchy and confusion will
inevitably ensue."
Among the members of the Conven
tion were many men of exalted char
acter and signal abilities. New York
sent Alexander Hamilton, himself a
host. No member was better fitted for
the work, or exerted a more important
influence in perfecting it. Madison was
one of the delegates from Virginia,
whose pen was subsequently exerted, in
connection with those of Hamilton and
Jay, in defending and expounding the
Constitution to the people in the me
morable papers of the " Federalist."
Massachusetts sent Nathaniel Gorham
and Rufus King ; New Hampshire, John
Langdon and Nicholas Gilman ; Penn
sylvania counted in her numerous
delegates Franklin, Mifflin, James Wil
son, Robert Morris, and Gouverneur
Morris, Avith others whose historical
names are less distinguished for ability
and eloquence, though not less for in
tegrity and patriotism. South Carolina
sent John Rutledge, her former gov
ernor, one of the ablest and purest men
then living, and destined to preside
over the supreme judiciary of the
Union. Charles Cotesworth Pinckney,
one of the bravest of the revolutionary
generals, and the future ambassador
to France, was also among the delegates
of South Carolina. Among the other
names on the roll of the Convention,
we recognize those of another Pinckney,

famed for eloquence ; Roger Sherman, a
veteran statesman and signer of the Dec
laration of Independence ; William Liv
ingston, afterwards governor of New Jer
sey, friend and correspondent of Wash
ington; and Doctor Hugh Williamson
of North Carolina, an early patriot, who
had assisted Franklin in detecting the
intrigues of Hutchinson and Oliver.
It would fill far too much space to
enumerate all the members of the Con
vention, or even to glance at their re
spective titles, already earned by public
service, to the confidence of their coun
trymen. " It was a most fortunate thing for
America," says a recent writer,* " that
the Revolutionary age, with its hard
ships, its trials, and its mistakes, had
formed a body of statesmen capable of
framing for it a durable constitution.
The leading persons in the Convention
which formed the constitution had been
actors, either in civil or military life, in
the scenes of the Revolution. In those
scenes their characters, as American
statesmen, had been formed. When
the condition of the country had fully
revealed the incapacity of the govern
ment to provide for its wants, these men
were naturally looked to to construct
a system which should save it from an
archy. And their great capacities, their
high disinterested purposes, their free
dom from all fanaticism and illiberality,
and their earnest, unconquerable faith in
the destiny of the country, enabled them
a George Ticknor Curtis. History of the Constitution of
the United States.

Chap. IL]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

sra

to found that government which now
upholds and protects the whole fabric
of liberty in the States of this Union."
The Convention remained in session
four months, and their industry and de
votion to their important work is amply
testified by the fact that they sat from
five to seven hours a day. It was a
most imposing assemblage. " The se
vere, unchanging presence of Washing
ton," says the writer last quoted, " pre
sided over all. The chivalrous sincerity
and disinterestedness of Hamilton per
vaded the assembly with all the power
of his fascinating manners. The flash
ing eloquence of Gouverneur Morris re
called the dangers of anarchy, which
must be accepted as the alternative of
an aborti\Te experiment. The calm,
clear, statesmanlike views of Madison,
the searching and profound expositions
of King, the prudent influence of Frank
lin, at length ruled the hour."*
On the 17th of September, 1787, the
constitution was signed by all the mem
bers present, except Edmund Randolph
the governor of Virginia, George Ma
son, and Elbridge Gerry; and it was
then forwarded, with a letter, to Con
gress. By that assembly it was sent to
the State legislatures to be submitted in
each State to a convention of delegates,
to be chosen by the people, for appro
val or rejection. As the State legisla
tures assembled at different times, nearly
a year would elapse before the result
could be known.

* See Document [B] at the end of this Chapter.

Immediately after the Convention had
ended its labors, Washington returned
to Mount Vernon, to. resume his agricul
tural pursuits, and to watch with intense
interest the slow process of ratifying
the constitution by the several States.
His correspondence with Hamilton,
Madison, Jay, Wilson, Governor Lang-
don of New Hampshire, generals Knox
and Lincoln, and Governor Randolph,
at this time, shows that the subject oc
cupied a great share of his attention ;
and that he was extremely anxious that
the constitution should be adopted by
all the States.
In a letter to Lafayette (7th of Feb
ruary, 1788) he says : " As to my senti
ments with respect to the merits of the
new constitution, I will disclose them
without reserve, although, by passing
through the post-offices, they should be
come known to all the world; for, in
truth, I have nothing to conceal on that
subject. It appears to me, then, little
short of a miracle, that the delegates
from so many States, different from each
other, as you know, in their manners,
circumstances, and prejudices, should
unite in forming a system of national
government so little liable to well-
founded objections. Nor am I yet such
an enthusiastic, partial, or undiscrimina-
ting admirer of it, as not to perceive it
is tinctured with some real though not
radical defects. The limits of a letter
would not suffer me to go fully into an
examination of them ; nor would the
discussion be entertaining or profitable.
I therefore forbear to touch upon it.

352

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

With regard to the two great points,
the pivots upon which the whole ma
chine must move, my creed is simply —
" First, That the general government
is not invested with more powers than
are indispensably necessary to perform
the functions of a good government;
and, consequently, that no objection
ought to be made against the quantity
of power delegated to it.
" Secondly, That these powers, as the
appointment of all rulers will forever
arise from, and at short stated inter
vals recur to, the free suffrage of the
people, are so distributed among the
legislative, executive, and judicial bran
ches, into which the general government
is arranged, that it can never be in dan
ger of degenerating into a monarchy,
an oligarchy, an aristocracy, or any
other despotic or oppressive form, so
long as there shall remain any virtue in
the body of the people.
"I would not be understood, my
dear Marquis, to speak of consequences,
Avhich may be produced in the revolu
tion of ages, by corruption of morals,
profligacy of manners, and listlessness
in the preservation of the natural and
unalienable rights of mankind, nor of
the successful usurpations that may be
established at such an unpropitious
juncture upon the ruins of liberty,
however providentially guarded and
secured ; as these are contingencies
against which no human prudence can
effectually provide. It will at least be
a recommendation to the proposed con
stitution, that it is provided with more

checks and barriers against the intro
duction of tyranny, and those of a
nature less liable to be surmounted,
than any government hitherto institu
ted among mortals. We are not to
expect perfection in this world; but
mankind, in modern times, have appar
ently made some progress in the science
of government. Should that, which is
now offered to the people of America,
be found an experiment less perfect
than it can be made, a constitutional
door is left open for its amelioration."
A letter of Mr. Jefferson, written to
one of his friends, while the consti
tution was under consideration, gives
some interesting particulars respecting
its reception and the opinions of some
of the States and leaders in regard to it :
" The constitution," he says, " has
been received with very general enthu
siasm ; the bulk of the people are eager
to adopt it. In the Eastern States the
printers will print nothing against it,
unless the writer subscribes bis name.
Massachusetts and Connecticut have
called conventions in January to con
sider it. In New York there is a di
vision ; the governor, Clinton, is known
to be hostile. Jersey, it is thought,
will accept; Pennsylvania is divided;
and all the bitterness of her factions has
been kindled anew. But the party in
favor of it is the strongest, both in and
out of the legislature. This is the party
anciently of Morris, Wilson, &c. * * *
Delaware will do what Pennsylvania
shall do. Maryland is thought favora
ble to it, yet it is supposed that Chase

Chap. H.]

FORMATION OF THE CONSTITUTION.

353

and Paca will oppose it. As to Vir
ginia, two of her delegates, in the first
place, refused to sign it; these were
Randolph, the governor, and George
Mason. Besides these, Henry, Harri
son, Nelson, and the Lees are against
it. General Washington will be for it,
but it is not in his character to exert
himself much in the case. Madison will
be its main pillar," &c.
With respect to Washington, Jeffer
son was mistaken. His letters show
that he did exert himself very zealously
to remove the objections of recusant
States and statesmen, especially the
Virginia leaders, who were all num
bered among his personal friends.
The following letter to Jonathan
Trumbull, of Connecticut, written at
Mount Vernon, on the 20th of July,
1788, when the final event was pretty
certain, evinces the lively interest he
took in the progress of affairs, and the
deep religious feeling of thankfulness
with which, as usual, he recognized the
hand of Providence in the result :
"You will have perceived from the
public papers," he writes, " that I was
not erroneous in my calculation, that
the constitution would be accepted by
the Convention of this State. The ma
jority, it is true, was small, and the
minority respectable in many points of
view. But the great part of the mi
nority here, as in most other States,
have conducted themselves with great
prudence and political moderation; in
somuch that we may anticipate a pretty
•general and harmonious acquiescence.

We shall impatiently wait the result
from New York and North Carolina.
The other State, which has not yet
acted/ is nearly out of the question.
"I am happy to hear from General
Lincoln, and others, that affairs are
taking a good turn in Massachusetts ;
but the triumph of salutary and liberal
measures, over those of an opposite
tendency, seems to be as complete in
Connecticut as in any other State,
and affords a particular subject of
congratulation. Your friend, Colonel
Humphreys, informs me, from the won
derful revolution of sentiment in favor
of federal measures, and the marvellous
change for the better in the elections
of your State, that he shall begin to
suspect that miracles have not ceased.
Indeed, for myself, since so much lib
erality has been displayed in the con
struction and adoption of the proposed
general government, I am almost dis
posed to be of the same opinion. Or
at least we may, 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 Con
vention, and then led them one after
another, by such steps as were best
calculated to effect the object, into an
adoption of the system recommended
by that General Convention, thereby,
in all human probability, laying a last
ing foundation for tranquillity and hap
piness, when we had but too much rea
son to fear that confusion and misery
were coming rapidly upon us."

354

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

North Carolina and Rhode Island did
not at first accept the constitution, and
New York was apparently dragged into
it by a repugnance to being excluded
from the confederacy. At length the
conventions of eleven States assented
to and ratified the constitution. When
officially informed of this fact, Congress
passed an act appointing a day for the
people throughout the Union to choose

electors of a president of the United
States, in compliance with the provi
sion in the constitution, and another
day for the electors to meet and vote
for the person of their choice. The
choice of electors was to take place in
February, 1789, and the electors were
to meet and choose a president on
the first Wednesday in March follow
ing.

a h

/
•pf~ CHIEF JLi3T!CL i>, H1' UNITED STA" IS .

,?o msuicU.fJUizis or G< i£r»x. :i ..: cossiisss'i

ohuccm W-j fc C ° l*u>^ her.3 .

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER II.

[A.]
JOHN JAY.
John Jay was born in the city of New York,
December 1, 1745, old style. After receiving
the elements of education at a boarding-school,
and under private tuition, he was placed, when
fourteen years of age, at King's (now Columbia)
College, in his native place. Here he devoted
himself principally to those branches Avhich he
deemed most important in reference to the pro
fession of the law, upon the study of which he
entered after receiving his bachelor's degree.
In 1768 he was admitted to the bar, and in
1774 was chosen a delegate to the first American
Congress, which met at Philadelphia, and was
placed on a committee, with Mr. Lee and Mr.
Livingston, to draft an address to the people of
Great Britain. It was prepared by Mr. Jay,
and is one of the most eloquent productions of
the time. In the two following years he was re
elected, and served on various important com
mittees. In 1776 he was chosen president of
Congress. In 1777 he was a member of the
convention which framed the constitution of New
York ; and the first draft of that instrument pro
ceeded from his pen. The following year, when
the government of New York was organized, he
was appointed chief-justice of that State. In
1779 Ave find him again a member of Congress,
and in the chair of that body. From this, how
ever, he was removed in the same year by his
appointment as minister plenipotentiary to Spain.
The objects of Mr. Jay's mission were to ob
tain from Spain an acknowledgment of our inde
pendence, to form a treaty of alliance, and to
procure pecuniary aid. With regard to the first
two points, no satisfactory conclusion was ob

tained ; and in the summer of 1782, Mr. Jay was
appointed one of the commissioners to negotiate
a peace with England, at the same time that he
was authorized to continue the negotiation with
Spain. In conjunction with Mr. Adams and Dr.
Franklin, he resolved to disobey the instructions
of Congress, to follow in all things the advice of
the French minister, Count de Vergennes, who
was embarrassing the negotiation with England,
in order to benefit France at the expense of the
United States, and accordingly they signed a
treaty Avith the British minister without his
knowledge.* The Definitive Treaty having been signed in
September, 1783, he soon after resigned his com
mission as minister to Spain, and, in May, 1784,
embarked for the United States. He was then
placed at the head of the department for foreign
affairs, in which office he continued until the
adoption of the present constitution, when he was
appointed chief-justice of the United States.
In 1787 he received a serious wound in the
forehead from a stone, when acting as one of a
volunteer corps to preserve the peace of the city
at the time of the Doctors' Mob. He was, in
consequence, confined to his bed for some time,
a circumstance which obliged him to discontinue
* There is a very important assertion or disclosure made
with respect to American affairs by Cooper, in his "No
tions of the Americans." This is, that in 1783, the
French government sought to procure for America, not
an acknowledgment of its independence, and a peace, but
merely twenty years' truce, with a tacit acknowledgment
like that which Spain had granted to the United Provinces
of Holland. Franklin, it is said, had submitted to this
arrangement, when Mr. Jay, arriving from Spain to take
part in the negotiation, scouted the duplicity of France,
and the weakness of his colleague, insisting upon a peace,
and an open acknowledgment, instead of a truce.

356

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

writing for the Federalist, to which he had al
ready contributed the second, third, fourth, and
fifth numbers. The only other number in the
volume from his pen is the sixty-fourth, on the
treaty-making power.
In 1784, Mr. Jay was sent as envoy extraordi
nary to Great Britain, and concluded the treaty
which has been called after his name. Before
his return in 1795, he had been elected governor
of his native State — a post which he occupied
until 1801. In that year he declined a re-elec
tion, as well as a reappointment to the office of
chief justice of the United States, and retired to
private life. The remainder of his days was
passed in devotion to study, particularly theo
logical, and to practical benevolence. He died
May 17, 1829, universally honored and beloved.
Mr. Jay was a man of inflexible firmness of
mind in the performance of duty, of great dis
cernment, extensive information, and fine talents
as a writer. Although rather cautious with
strangers, with friends he was affable and frank ;
economical in his expenses, he was at the same
time generous towards every object worthy of
his bounty. The letters between him and Wash
ington, various extracts of which are contained
in the fifth volume of Marshall's History, exhibit
the elevated place he held in the confidence and
esteem of that illustrious man.

[B.]
A few days before the close of the Conven
tion, Washington prepared and submitted a
draft of a letter to Congress, which was adopted.
The Constitution having been duly signed, it
was transmitted to Congress, with the letter
from the President of the Convention.
" In Convention, September 17, 1787.
" Sie : — We have now the honor to submit to
the consideration of the United States, in Con
gress assembled, that constitution which has
appeared to us the most advisable.
" The friends of our country have long seen
and desired, that the power of making war,
peace, and treaties ; that of levying money, and
regulating commerce, and the correspondent

executive and judicial authorities, should be
fully and effectually vested in the general gov
ernment of the Union : but the impropriety of
delegating such extensive trust to one body of
men is evident. Hence results the necessity for
a different organization.
" It is obviously impracticable in the federal
government of these States to secure all the
rights of independent sovereignty to each, and
yet provide for the interest and safety of all.
Individuals entering into society, must give up
a share of liberty, to preserve the rest. The
magnitude of the sacrifice must depend, as well
on situation and circumstance, as on the object
to be obtained. It is at all times difficult to
draw with precision the line between those
rights which must be surrendered, and those
which may be reserved ; and on the present
occasion, this difficulty was increased by a dif
ference among the several States, as to their
situation, extent, habits, and particular inter
ests. " In all our deliberations on this subject, we
kept steadily in our view that which appears to
us the greatest interest of every true American,
the consolidation of our Union, in which is in
volved our prosperity, felicity, safety, perhaps
our national existence. This important con
sideration, seriously and deeply impressed on
our minds, led each State in the Convention to
be less rigid on points of inferior magnitude
than might have been otherwise expected ; and
thus the constitution, which we now present, is
the result of a spirit of amity, and of that
mutual deference and concession, which the
peculiarity of our political situation rendered
indispensable. " That it will meet the full and entire appro
bation of every State, is not perhaps to be ex
pected ; but each State will doubtless consider,
that had her interests alone been consulted, the
consequences might have been particularly dis
agreeable or injurious to others : that it is
liable to as few exceptions as could reasonably
have been expected, we hope and believe ; that
it may promote the lasting welfare of that
country so dear to us all, and secure her
freedom and happiness, is our most ardent
wish.

Chap. IL]

DOCUMENTS.

357

" With great respect, we have the honor to
be, sii-, your Excellency's most obedient and
humble servants.
"GEORGE WASHINGTON,
" President.
" By unanimous Order of the Convention.
" His Excehotgy the President or Congress."
We give this important document in full, as
contained in the Supplement to the Journal of
the Federal Convention.
THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES.
We, the people of the United States, in
order to form a more perfect union, establish
justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for
the common defence, promote the general wel
fare, and secure the blessings of liberty to
ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and
establish this Constitution for the United States
of America. ABTICXE I.
Sect. 1. All legislative powers herein grant
ed shall be vested in a Congress of the United
States, which shall consist of a Senate and
House of Representatives.
Sect. 2. The House of Representatives shall
be composed of members chosen every second
year by the people of the several States ; and
the electors in each State shall have the qualifi
cations requisite for electors of the most numer
ous branch of the State legislature.
No person shall be a representative who shall
not have attained to the age of twenty-five
years, and been seven years a citizen of the
United States, and who shall not, when elected,
be an inhabitant of that State in which he shall
be chosen.
Representatives and direct taxes shall be ap
portioned among the several States which may
be included within this union, according to their
respective numbers, which shall be determined
by adding to the whole number of free persons,
including those bound to service for a term of
years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three-
fifths of all other persons. The actual enumera
tion shall be made within three years after the
Vol II— 4fi

first meeting of the Congress of the United
States, and within every subsequent term of
ten years, in such manner as they shall by law
direct. The number of representatives shall
not exceed one for every thirty thousand, but
each State shall have, at least, one representa
tive ; and until such enumeration shall be made,
the State of New Hampshire shall be entitled
to choose three, Massachusetts eight, Rhode
Island and Providence Plantations one, Connec
ticut five, New York six, New Jersey four,
Pennsylvania eight, Delaware one, Maryland
six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five, South
Carolina five, and Georgia three.
When vacancies happen in the representa
tion from any State, the executive authority
thereof shall issue writs of election to fill such
vacancies. The House of Representatives shall choose
their speaker and other officers ; and shall have
the sole power of impeachment.
Sect. 3. The Senate of the United States
shall be composed of two senators from each
State, chosen by the legislature thereof, for six
years ; and each senator shall have one vote.
Immediately after they shall be assembled in
consequence of the first election, they shall be
divided, as equally as may be, into three classes.
The seats of the senators of the first class shall
be vacated at the expiration of the second
year, of the second class at the expiration of
the fourth year, and of the third class at the
expiration of the sixth year, so that one-third
may be chosen every second year ; and if va
cancies happen by resignation or otherwise,
during the recess of the legislature of any
State, the executive thereof may make tempo
rary appointments until the next meeting of
the legislature, which shall then fill such va
cancies. No person shall be a senator who shall not
have attained to the age of thirty years, and
been nine years a citizen of the United States,
and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabitant
of that State for which he shall be chosen.
The vice-president of the United States shall
be president of the Senate, but shall have no
vote, unless they be equally divided.
The Senate shall choose their other officers,

358

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

also a president pro tempore, in the absence of
the vice-president, or when he shall exercise the
office of president of the United States.
The Senate shall have the sole power to try
all impeachments. When sitting for that pur
pose, they shall be on oath or affirmation.
When the president of the United States is
tried, the chief-justice shall preside ; and no per
son shall be convicted without the concurrence
of two-thirds of the members present.
Judgment in cases of impeachment shall not
extend further than to removal from office, and
disqualification to hold and enjoy any office of
honor, trust, or profit, under the United States ;
but the party convicted shall nevertheless be
liable and subject to indictment, trial, judg
ment, and punishment, according to law.
Sect. 4. The times, places, and manner of
holding elections for senators and representa
tives, shall be prescribed in each State by the
legislature thereof; but the Congress may at
any time, by law, make or alter such regula
tions, except as to the places of choosing sen
ators. The Congress shall assemble at least once in
every year, and such meeting shall be on the
first Monday in December, unless they shall by
law appoint a different day.
Sect. 5. Each house shall be the judge of the
elections, returns, and qualifications of its own
members ; and a majority of each shall consti
tute a quorum to do business; but a smaller
number may adjourn from day to day, and may
be authorized to compel the attendance of ab
sent members, in such manner, and under such
penalties, as each house may provide.
Each house may determine the rules of its
proceedings, punish its members for disorderly
behavior, and, with the concurrence of two-
thirds, expel a member.
Each house shall keep a journal of its pro
ceedings, and from time to time publish the
same, excepting such parts as may, in their
judgment, require secrecy; and the yeas and
nays of the members of either house on any
question, shall, at the request of one-fifth of
those present, be entered on the journal.
Neither house, during the session of Con
gress, shall, without the consent of the other,

adjourn for more than three days, nor to any
other place than that in which the two houses
shall be sitting.
Sect. 6. The senators and representatives
shall receive a compensation for their services,
to be ascertained by law, and paid out of the
treasury of the United States. They shall in
all cases, except treason, felony, and breach of
the peace, be privileged from arrest during their
attendance at the session of their respective
houses, and in going to and returning from the
same ; and for any speech or debate in either
house, they shall not be questioned in any other
place. No senator or representative shall, during the
time for which he was elected, be aj>pointed to
any civil office under the authority of the United
States, which shall have been created, or the
emoluments whereof shall have been increased
during such time ; and no person holding any
office under the United States shall be a member
of either house during his continuance in office.
Sect. 7. All bills for raising revenue shall
originate in the House of Representatives ; but
the Senate may propose or concur with amend
ments as on other bills.
Every bill which shall have passed the House
of Representatives and the Senate, shall, before
it become a law, be presented to the president
of the United States. If he approve, he shall
sign it ; but if not, he shall return it, with his
objections, to that house in which it shall have
originated, who shall enter the objections at
large on their journal, and proceed to reconsider
it. If, after such reconsideration, two-thirds of
that house shall agree to pass the bill, it shall
be sent, together with the objections, to the
other house, by which it shall likewise be recon
sidered, and if approved by two-thirds of that
house it shall become a law. But in all such
cases, the votes of both houses shall be deter
mined by yeas and nays, and the names of the
persons voting for and against the bill shall be
entered on the journal of each house respec
tively. If any bill shall not be returned by the
president within ten days (Sundays excepted)
after it shall have been presented to him, the
same shall be a law, in like manner as if he had
signed it, unless the Congress, by their adjourn-

Chap. II.]

DOCUMENTS.

359

ment, prevent its return, in which case it shall
not be a law.
Every order, resolution, or vote, to which the
concurrence of the Senate and House of Repre
sentatives may be necessary (except on a ques
tion of adjournment), shall be presented to the
president of the United States ; and before the
same shall take effect, shall be approved by
him, or, being disapproved by him, shall be re
passed by two-thirds of the Senate and House of
Representatives, according to the rules and lim
itations prescribed in the case of a bill.
Sect. 8. The Congress shall have power — -
To lay and collect taxes, duties, imposts, and
excises :
To pay the debts and provide for the com
mon defence and general welfare of the United
States ; but all duties, imposts, and excises shall
be uniform throughout the United States :
To borrow money on the credit of the United
States :
To regulate commerce with foreign nations,
and among the several States, and with the
Indian tribes :
To establish a uniform rule of naturalization,
and uniform laws on the subject of bankruptcies
throughout the United States :
To coin money, regulate the value thereof,
and of foreign coin, and fix the standard of
weights and measures :
To provide for the punishment of counterfeit-
ino- the securities and current coin of the United
States :
To establish post-offices and post-roads :
To promote the progress of science and useful
arts, by securing for limited times, to authors
and inventors, the exclusive right to their re
spective writings and discoveries :
To constitute tribunals inferior to the supreme
court :
To define and punish piracies and felonies
committed on the high seas, and offences against
the law of nations :
To declare war, to grant letters of marque
and reprisal, and make rules concerning captures
on land and water :
To raise and support armies ; but no appropri
ation of money to that use shall be for a longer
term than two years :

To provide and maintain a navy :
To make rules for the government and regu
lation of the land and naval forces :
To provide for calling forth the militia to exe
cute the laws of the Union, suppress insurrec
tions, and repel invasions :
To provide for organizing, arming, and disci
plining the militia, and for governing such part
of them as may be employed in the service of
the United States — reserving to the States re
spectively the appointment of the officers, and
the authority of training the militia according to
the discipline prescribed by Congress :
To exercise exclusive legislation, in all cases
whatsoever, over such district (not exceeding
ten miles square) as may, by cession of particular
States, and the acceptance of Congress, become
the seat of government of the United States,
and to exercise like authority over all places
purchased, by the consent of the legislature of
the State in which the same shall be, for the
erection of forts, magazines, arsenals, dock-yards,
and other needful buildings : — and,
To make all laws which shall be necessary
and proper for carrying into execution the fore
going powers, and all other powers vested by
this constitution in the government of the
United States, or in any department or officer
thereof. Sect. 9. The migration or importation of such
persons as any of the States, now existing, shall
think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by
the Congress prior to the year 1808, but a tax
or duty may be imposed on such importation,
not exceeding ten dollars for each person.
The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus
shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of
rebellion or invasion, the public safety may re
quire it.
No bill of attainder, or ex post facto law, shall
be passed.
No capitation, or other direct tax shall be
laid, unless in proportion to the census or enu
meration herein before directed to be taken.
No tax or duty shall be laid on articles ex
ported from any State. No preference shall be
given, by any regulation of commerce or reve
nue, to the ports of ' one State over those of
another ; nor shall vessels bound to, or from one

360

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

State, be obliged to enter, clear, or pay duties in
another. No money shall be drawn from the treasury,
but in consequente of appropriations made by
law : and a regular statement and account of the
receipts and expenditures of all public money
shall be published from time to time.
No title of nobility shall be granted by the
United States : and no person holding any office
of profit or trust under them, shall, without the
consent of the Congress, accept of any present,
emolument, office, or title of any kind whatever,
from any king, prince, or foreign state.
Sect. 10. No State shall enter into any trea
ty, alliance, or confederation ; grant letters of
marque and reprisal ; coin money ; emit bills of
credit ; make any thing but gold and silver coin
a tender in payment of debts ; pass any bill of
attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing
the obligation of contracts, or grant any title of
nobility. No State shall, without the consent of the Con
gress, lay any imposts or duties on imports or ex
ports, except what may be absolutely necessary
for executing its inspection laws ; and the net pro
duce of all duties and imposts, laid by any State
on imports or exports, shall be for the use of the
treasury of the United States ; and all such laws
shall be subject to the revision and control of
the Congress. No State shall, without the con
sent of Congress, lay any duty of tonnage, keep
troops or ships of war in time of peace, enter
into any agreement or compact with another
State, or with a foreign power, or engage in war,
unless actually invaded, or in such imminent
danger as will not admit of delay.
ARTICLE II.
Sect 1. The executive power shall be vested
in a president of the United States of America.
He shall hold his office during the term of four
years, and, together with the vice-president, cho
sen for the same term, be elected as follows :
Each State shall appoint, in such manner as
the legislature thereof may direct, a number of
electors equal to the whole number of senators
and representatives to which the State may be
entitled in the Congress ; but no senator or rep
resentative, or person holding any office of trust

or profit under the United States, shall be ap
pointed an elector.
The electors shall meet in their respective
States, and vote by ballot for two persons, of
whom one at least shall not be an inhabitant of
the same State with themselves. And they
shall make a list of all the persons voted for, and
of the number of votes for each ; which list they
shall sign and certify, and transmit sealed to the
seat of the government of the United States, di
rected to the president of the Senate. The presi
dent of the Senate shall, in the presence of the
Senate and House of Representatives, open all
the certificates, and the votes shall then be
counted. The person having the greatest num
ber of votes shall be the president, if such num
ber be a majority of the whole number of elec
tors appointed ; and if there be more than one
who have such majority, and have an equal
number of votes, then the House of Representa
tives shall immediately choose, by ballot, one of
them for president ; and if no person have a ma
jority, then from the five highest on the list, the
said house shall, in like manner, choose the
president. But in choosing the president, the
votes shall be taken by States, the representation
from each State having one vote. A quorum for
this purpose shall consist of a member or mem
bers from two-thirds of the States, and a major
ity of all the States shall be necessary to a choice.
In every case, after the choice of the president,
the person having the greatest number of votes
of the electors shall be the vice-president. But
if there should remain two or more who have
equal votes, the Senate shall choose from them,
by ballot, the vice-president.
The Congress may determine the time of
choosing the electors, and the day on which
they shall give their votes ; which day shall be
the same throughout the United States.
No person except a natural born citizen, or
a citizen of the United States at the time of the
adoption of this constitution, shall be eligible
to the office of president ; neither shall any
person be eligible to that office who shall not
have attained to the age of thirty-five years,
and been fourteen years a resident within the
United States.
In case of the removal of the president from

Chap. H.]

DOCUMENTS.

361

office, or of his death, resignation, or inability
to discharge the powers and duties of the said
office, the same shall devolve on the vice-presi
dent ; and the Congress may by law provide for
the case of removal, death, resignation, or
inability, both of the president and vice-presi
dent, declaring what officer shall then act as
president, and such officer shall act accordingly
until the disability be removed, or a president
shall be elected.
The president shall, at stated times, receive
for his services a compensation, which shall
neither be increased nor diminished during the
period for which he shall have been elected, and
he shall not receive within that period any
other emolument from the United States, or
any of them.
Before he enters on the execution of his office,
he shall take the following oath or affirmation :
" I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will
faithfully execute the office of president of the
United States, and will, to the best of my
ability, preserve, protect, and defend the con
stitution of the United States."
Sect. 2. The president shall be commander-
in-chief of the army and navy of the United
States, and of the militia of the several States,
when called into the actual service of the United
States ; he may require the opinion, in writing,
of the principal officer in each of the executive
departments, upon any subject relating to the
duties of their respective offices ; and he shall
have power to grant reprieves and pardons for
offences against the United States, except in
cases of impeachment.
He shall have power, by and with the advice
and consent of the Senate, to make treaties,
provided two-thirds of the senators present
concur ; and he shall nominate, and by and
with the advice and consent of the Senate, shall
appoint ambassadors, other public ministers,
and consuls, judges of the supreme court, and
all other officers of the United States, whose
appointments are not herein otherwise provided
for, and which shall be established by law. But
the Congress may by law vest the appointment
of such inferior officers as they think proper in
the president alone, in the courts of law, or in
the heads of departments.

The president shall have power to fill up all
vacancies that may happen during the recess of
the Senate, by granting commissions, which
shall expire at the end of their next session.
Sect. 3. He shall, from time to time, give to
the Congress information of the state of the
Union, and recommend to their consideration
such measures as he shall judge necessary and
expedient ; he may, on extraordinary occasions,
convene both houses, or either of them, and in
case of disagreement between them, with re
spect to the time of adjournment, he may
adjourn them to such time as he shall think
proper ; he shall receive ambassadors and other
public ministers ; he shall take care that the
laws be faithfully executed ; and shall commis
sion all the officers of the United States.
Sect. 4. The president, vice-president, and all
civil officers of the United States shall be re
moved from office on impeachment for, and
conviction of, treason, bribery, or other high
crimes and misdemeanors. article III.
Sect. 1. The judicial power of the United
States shall be vested in one supreme court,
and in such inferior courts as the Congress
may, from time to time, ordain and establish.
The judges, both of the supreme and inferior
courts, shall hold their offices during good
behavior ; and shall, at stated times, receive
for their services a compensation, which shall
not be diminished during their continuance in
office. Sect. 2. The judicial power shall extend to
all cases in law and equity, arising under this
constitution, the laws of the United States, and
treaties made, or which shall be made under
their authority ; to all cases affecting ambas
sadors, other public ministers, and consuls ; to
all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction ;
to controversies to which the United States
shall be a party ; to controversies between two
or more States, between a State and citizens of
another State, between citizens of different
States, between citizens of the same State,
claiming lands under grants of different States,
and between a State, or the citizens thereof,
and foreign States, citizens, or subjects.

362

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book V.

In all cases affecting ambassadors, other pub
lic ministers, and consuls, and those in which a
State shall be a party, the supreme court shall
have original jurisdiction. In all the other
cases before mentioned, the supreme court shall
have appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and
fact, with such exceptions and under such regu
lations as the Congress shall make.
The trial of all crimes, except in cases of im
peachment, shall be by jury ; and such trial shall
be held in the State where the said crimes shall
have been committed ; but when not committed
within any State, the trial shall be at such place
or places as the Congress may by law have di
rected. Sect. 3. Treason against the United States
shall consist only in levying war against them,
or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid
and comfort. No person shall be convicted of
treason unless on the testimony of two witnesses
to the same overt act, or on confession in open
court. The Congress shall have power to declare the
punishment of treason ; but no attainder of trea
son shall work corruption of blood, or forfeiture,
except during the life of the person attainted.
article iv.
Sect. 1. Full faith and credit shall be given
in each State to the public acts, records, and
judicial proceedings of every other State. And
the Congress may, by general laws, prescribe
the manner in which such acts, records, and pro
ceedings shall be proved, and the effect thereof.
Sect. 2. The citizens of each State shall be
entitled to all privileges and immunities of citi
zens in the several States.
A person charged in any State with treason,
felony, or other crime, who shall flee from jus
tice, and be found in another State, shall, on de
mand of the executive authority of the State
from which he fled, be delivered up, to be re
moved to the State having jurisdiction of the
crime. No person held to service or labor in one
State, under the laws thereof, escaping into
another, shall, in consequence of any law or regu
lation therein, be discharged from such service
or labor ; but shall be delivered up, on claim of

the party to whom such service or labor may
be due.
Sect. 3. New States may be admitted by the
Congress into this Union ; but no new State
shall be formed or erected within the jurisdiction
of any other State, nor any State be formed by
the junction of two or more States, or parts of
States, without the consent of the legislatures of
the States concerned, as well as of the Congress.
The Congress shall have power to dispose of
and make all needful rules and regulations re
specting the territory or other property belong
ing to the United States ; and nothing in this
constitution shall be so construed as to prejudice
any claims of the United States, or of any par
ticular State.
Sect. 4. The United States shall guarantee to
every State in this Union a republican form of
government, and shall protect each of them
against invasion ; and on application of the legis
lature, or of the executive (when the legislature
cannot be convened), against domestic violence.
article v.
The Congress, whenever two-thirds of both
houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose
amendments to this constitution ; or, on the ap
plication of the legislatures of two-thirds of the
several States, shall call a convention for propo
sing amendments, which, in either case, shall be
valid to all intents and purposes, as part of this
constitution, when ratified by the legislatures of
three-fourths of the several States, or by conven
tions in three-fourths thereof, as the one or the
other mode of ratification may be proposed by
the Congress : Provided, that no amendment
which may be made prior to the year 1808, shall
in any manner affect the first and fourth clauses
in the ninth section of the first article ; and that
no State, without its consent, shall be deprived
of its equal suffrage in the Senate.
article vi.
All debts contracted and engagements entered
into, before the adoption of this constitution,
shall be as valid against the United States under
this constitution as under the confederation.
This constitution, and the laws of the United
States which shall be made in pursuance there-

Chap, n.]

DOCUMENTS.

363

of, and all treaties made, or which shall be
made, under the authority of the United States,
shall be the supreme law of the land ; and the
judges in every State shall be bound thereby,
any thing in the constitution or laws of any
State to the contrary notwithstanding.
The senators and representatives before men
tioned, and the members of the several State
legislatures, and all executive and judicial offi
cers, both of the United States and of the several
States, shall be bound by oath or affirmation to
support this constitution ; but no religious test
shall ever be required as a qualification to any
office or public trust under the United States.
ARTICLE VII.
The ratification of the conventions of nine
States shall be sufficient for the establishment of
this constitution between the States so ratifying
the same.
Done in convention, by the unanimous consent of the
States present, the 17th day of September, in the year
of our Lord 1787, and of the independence of the
United States of America, the twelfth. In witness
whereof, we have hereunto subscribed our names.
GEORGE WASHINGTON,
President,
And deputy from Virginia.

Delaware.
GEORGE READ,
GUNNING BEDFORD, Jr.
JOHN DICKINSON,
RICHARD BASSETT,
JACOB BROOM.

New Hampshire.
JOHN LANGDON,
NICHOLAS GILMAN.
Massachusetts.
NATHANIEL GORHAM,
RUFUS KING.

Connecticut. JAMES M'HENRY,
WILLIAM SAMUEL JOHN- DANIEL OF ST. THOMAS
SON, JENIFER,
ROGER SHERMAN. DANIEL CARROLL.

New York.
ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
New Jersey.
WILLIAM LIVINGSTuN,
DAVID BR1SARLY,
WILLIAM PATTERSON,
JONATHAN DAYTON.
Pennsylvania.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,
THOMAS MIFFLIN,
ROBERT MORRIS,
GEORGE CLYMER,
THOMAS FITZSIMONS,
JARED INGERSOLL,
JAMES WILSON,
GOUVERNEUR MORRIS.
Attest.
William Jackson, Secretary.

Virginia.
JOHN BLAIR,
JAMES MADISON, Jr.
North Carolina.
WILLIAM BLOUNT,
RICHARD DOBBS
SPAIGHT,
HUGH WILLIAMSON.
South Carolina.
JOHN RUTLEDGE,
CHARLES COTES WORTH
PINCKNEY,
CHARLES PINCKNEY,
PIERCE BUTLER. Georgia.
WILLIAM FEW,
ABRAHAM BALDWIN.

LIFE AO TIMES

OF

WASHINGTON.

BOOK VI.
WASHINGTON AS PRESIDENT AND IN RETIREMENT,

Vol. U.—il

CHAPTER I.
1789.
THE ELECTION.
Preference of the political leaders and the people for Washington as president. — Fears of his refusal. — Opinion of
Mr. Johnson of Maryland. — Gouverneur Morris's letter to Washington on the subject of his election. — Letter of
Colonel Henry Lee to Washington. — His answer. — Colonel Hamilton and Washington correspond on the sub
ject. — Extracts from their letters. — Strong arguments and persuasions of Hamilton. — Washington's letter to
Lafayette. — Washington's treatment of office-seekers. — His letter setting forth his views and principles with
inspect to appointments. — Tardiness of members of Congress in taking their seats. — Quorum formed. — Votes of
electors counted, and George Washington and John Adams announced as President and Vice-President of the
United States. — Washington's diffidence in accepting the office.

As soon as it was ascertained that the
new form of government had received
the sanction of the people and would go
into immediate operation, all eyes were
at once turned to Washington as the
first president of the United States.
During the war he had, in fact, directed
the course of public affairs. His sug
gestions had been almost invariably-
followed by Congress. His recommen
dations had influenced the action of the
different States. His practical adminis
trative abilities were known to all. He
alone possessed the confidence of the
people to that degree which was neces
sary to carry the constitution into
vigorous effect at the outset, and to
defend it against its secret as well as its
open enemies. But it was by no means
certain that he would accept the office.
By all who knew him, fears were enter

tained that his preference for private
life would prevail over the wishes of
the public ; and, soon after the adoption
of the constitution was ascertained, his
correspondents began to press him on a
point which was believed essential to
the completion of the great work on
which the grandeur and happiness of
America was supposed to depend. "We
cannot," said Mr. Johnson, a man of
great political eminence in Maryland,
"do without you; and I, and thousands
more, can explain to anybody but your
self why we cannot do without you."
" I have ever thought," said Gouver
neur Morris,* " and have ever said, that
you must be president ; no other man
can fill that, office. No other man can
draw forth the abilities of our country
0 See Document at the end of this chapter.

I  ., — -

368

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

into the various departments of civil
life. You alone can awe the insolence
of opposing factions, and the greater
insolence of assuming adherents. I
say nothing of foreign powers, nor of
their ministers. With these last you
will have some plague. As to your
feelings on this occasion, they are, I
know, both deep and affecting : you
embark property most precious on a
most tempestuous ocean ; for, as you
possess the highest reputation, so you
expose it to the perilous chance of
popular opinion. On the other hand,
you will, I firmly expect, enjoy the
inexpressible felicity of contributing to
the happiness of all your countrymen.
You will become the father of more
than three millions of children ; and
while your bosom glows with parental
tenderness, in theirs, or at least in a
majority of them, you will excite the
duteous sentiments of filial affection.
This, I repeat it, is what I firmly expect;
and my views are not directed by that
enthusiasm which your public character
has impressed on the public mind. En
thusiasm is generally short-sighted, and
too often blind. I form my conclusions
from those talents and virtues which
the world believes, and which your
friends hnow you possess."
In a letter detailing the arrangements
which were making for the introduction
of the new government, Colonel Henry
Lee proceeded thus to speak of the
presidency of the United States. "The
solemnity of the moment, and its appli
cation to yourself, have fixed my mind

in contemplations of a public and a
personal nature, and I feel an involun
tary impulse which I cannot resist, to
communicate without reserve to you
some of the reflections which the hour
has produced. Solicitous for our com
mon happiness as a people, and convicted
as I continue to be that our peace and
prosperity depend on the proper im
provement of the present period, my
anxiety is extreme that the new gov
ernment may have an auspicious begin
ning. To effect this, and to perpetuate
a nation formed under your auspices, it
is certain that again you will be called
forth. " The same principles of devotion to
the good of mankind, which have in
variably governed your conduct, will
no doubt continue to rule your mind,
however opposite their consequences
may be to your repose and happiness.
It may be wrong, but I cannot suppress,
in my wishes for national felicity, a
due regard for your personal fame and
content. "If the same success should attend
your efforts on this important occasion
which has distinguished you hitherto,
then, to be sure, you will have spent a
life which Providence rarely if ever
before gave to the lot of one man. It
is my anxious hope, it is my belief, that
this will be the case ; but all things are
uncertain, and perhaps nothing more so
than political events." He then pro
ceeded to state his apprehensions that
the government might sink under the
active hostility of its foes, and in par-

Chap. I.]

THE ELECTION.

369

ticular, the fears which he entertained
from the circular letter of New York,
around which the minorities in the
several States might be expected to
rally. Before concluding his letter,
Colonel Lee said, "Without you, the
government can have but little chance
of success ; and the people, of that
happiness which its prosperity must
yield." In reply to this letter Washington
said : " Your observations on the solem
nity of the crisis, and its application to
myself, bring before me subjects of the
most momentous and interesting nature.
In our endeavors to establish a new
general government, the contest, na
tionally considered, seems not to have
been so much for glory, as existence.
It was for a long time doubtful whether
we were to survive as an independent
Republic, or decline from our federal
dignity into insignificant and wretched
fragments of empire. The adoption of
the constitution so extensively, and
with so liberal an acquiescence on the
part of the minorities in general, prom
ised the former; but lately, the circular
letter of New York has manifested, in
my apprehension, an unfavorable, if not
an insidious tendency to a contrary
policy. I still hope for the best, but
before you mentioned it, I could not help
fearing it would serve as a standard to
which the disaffected might resort. It
is now evidently the part of all honest
men who are friends to the new con
stitution, to endeavor to give it a
chance to disclose its merits and de

fects, by carrying it fairly into effect,
in the first instance.
" The principal topic of your letter
is to me a point of great delicacy in
deed, — insomuch that I can scarcely,
without some impropriety, touch upon
it. In the first place, the event to
which you allude may never happen;
among other reasons, because, if the
partiality of my fellow-citizens conceive
it to be a means by which the sinews of
the new government would be strength
ened, it will of consequence be obnox
ious to those who are in opposition to
it, many of whom, unquestionably, will
be placed among the electors.
" This consideration alone would su
persede the expediency of announcing
any definitive and irrevocable resolu
tion. You are among the small number
of those who know my invincible attach
ment to domestic life, and that my
sincerest wish is to continue in the
enjoyment of it solely, until my final
hour. But the world would be neither
so well instructed, nor so candidly dis
posed, as to believe me to be unin
fluenced by sinister motives, in case
any circumstance should render a
deviation from the line of conduct I
had prescribed for myself indispensable.
Should the contingency you suggest
take place, and (for argument sake
alone, let me say) should my unfeigned
reluctance to accept the office be over
come by a deference for the reasons
and opinions of my friends ; might I
not, after the declarations I have made
(and heaven knows they were made in

370

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VL

the sincerity of my heart), in the judg
ment of the impartial world, and of
posterity, be chargeable with levity
and inconsistency, if not with rashness
and ambition ? Nay, further, would
there not even be some apparent foun
dation for the two former charges ?
Now, justice to myself, and tranquillity
of conscience, require that I should act
a part, if not above imputation, at least
capable of vindication. Nor will you
conceive me to be too solicitous for
reputation. Though I prize as I ought
the good opinion of my fellow-citizens,
yet, if I know myself, I would not seek
or retain popularity at the expense of
one social duty or moral virtue. While
doing what my conscience informed me
was right, as it respected my God, my
country, and myself, I could despise all
the party clamor and unjust censure
which must be expected from some,
whose personal enmity might be oc
casioned by their hostility to the gov
ernment. I am conscious that I fear
alone to give any real occasion for
obloquy, and that I do not dread to
meet with unmerited reproach. And
certain I am, whensoever I shall be
convinced the good of my country re
quires my reputation to be put in risk,
regard for my own fame will not come
in competition with an object of so
much magnitude.
" If I declined the task, it would be
upon quite another principle. Notwith
standing my advanced season of life,
my increasing fondness for agricultural
amusements, and my growing love of

retirement, augment and confirm my
decided predilection for the character
of a private citizen, yet it will be no
one of these motives, nor the hazard to
which my former reputation might be
exposed, or the terror of encountering
new fatigues and troubles, that would
deter me from an acceptance ; but a
belief that some other person, who had
less pretence and less inclination to be
excused, could execute all the duties
full as satisfactorily as myself. To say
more would be indiscreet ; as a disclo
sure of a refusal beforehand might
incur the application of the fable, in
which the fox is represented as under
valuing the grapes he could not reach.
You will perceive, my dear sir, by what
is here observed (and which you will
be pleased to consider in the light of a
confidential communication), that my
inclinations will dispose and decide me
to remain as I am, unless a clear and
insurmountable conviction should be
impressed on my mind, that some very
disagreeable consequences must in all
human probability result from the in
dulgence of my wishes."
About the same time, Colonel Hamil
ton concluded a letter on miscellaneous
subjects with the following observa
tions. " I take it for granted, sir, you
have concluded to comply with what
will, no doubt, be the general call of
your country in relation to the new
government. You will permit me to
say, that it is indispensable you should
lend yourself to its first operations. It
is to little purpose to have introduced

Chap. I.]

THE ELECTION.

371

a system, if the weightiest influence is
not given to its firm establishment in
the outset."
" On the delicate subject," said Wash
ington in reply, " with which you con
clude your letter, I can say nothing ;
because the event alluded to may never
happen ; and because, in case it should
occur, it would be a point of prudence
to defer forming one's ultimate and
irrevocable decision, so long as new data
might be afforded for one to act with
the greater wisdom and propriety. I
would not wish to conceal my prevail
ing sentiment from you. For you know
me well enough, my good sir, to be
persuaded that I am not guilty of affec
tation, when I tell you it is my great
and sole desire to live and die in peace
and retirement on my own farm. Were
it even indispensable a different line of
conduct should be adopted, while you
and some others who are acquainted
with my heart would acquit, the world
and posterity might probably accuse me
of inconsistency and ambition. Still, I
hope I shall always possess firmness
and virtue enough to maintain (what I
consider the most enviable of all titles)
the character of an honest man?
This answer drew from Hamilton the
following reply: "I should be deeply
pained, my dear sir, if your scruples in
regard to a certain station should be
matured into a resolution to decline it ;
though I am neither surprised at their
existence, nor can I but agree in opinion
that the caution you observe in defer
ring the ultimate determination is pru

dent. I have, however, reflected ma
turely on the subject, and have come
to the conclusion (in which I feel no
hesitation) that every public and per
sonal consideration will demand from
you an acquiescence in what will cer
tainly be the unanimous wish of your
country. "The absolute retreat which you
meditated at the close of the late war,
was natural and proper. Had the gov
ernment produced by the Revolution
gone on in a tolerable train, it would
have been most advisable to have per
sisted in that retreat. But I am clearly
of opinion, that the crisis which brought
you again into public view, left you no
alternative but to comply ; and I am
equally clear in the opinion that you
are by that act pledged to take a part
in the-execution of the government. I
am not less convinced that the impres
sion of the necessity of your filling the
station in question is so universal, that
you run no risk of any uncandid impu
tation by submitting to it. But even
if this were not the case, a regard to
your own reputation, as well as to the
public good, calls upon you in the
strongest manner to run that risk.
"It cannot be considered as a com
pliment to say, that on your acceptance
of the office of president, the success of
the new government in its commence
ment may materially depend. Your
agency and influence will be not less
important in preserving it from the fu
ture attacks of its enemies, than they
have been in recommending it in the

372

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

first instance to the adoption of the
people. Independent of all considera
tions drawn from this source, the point
of light in which you stand at home and
abroad, will make an infinite difference
in the respectability with which the
government will begin its operations,
in the alternative of your being or not
being at the head of it. I forbear to
mention considerations which might
have a more personal application.
What I have said will suffice for the
inferences I mean to draw.
" First. In a matter so essential to
the well-being of society as the pros
perity of a newly instituted govern
ment, a citizen of so much consequence
as yourself to its success, has no option
but to lend his services if called for.
Permit me to say, it would be inglo
rious, in such a situation, not to hazard
the glory, however great, which he
might have previously acquired.
" Secondly. Your signature to the
proposed system, pledges your judg
ment for its being such a one as, upon
the whole, was worthy of the public
approbation. If it should miscarry (as
men commonly decide from success or
the want of it), the blame will, in all
probability, be laid on the system it
self. And the framers of it will have
to encounter the disrepute of having
brought about a revolution in govern
ment without substituting any thing
that was worthy of the effort; — they
pulled down one utopia, it will be said,
to build up another. This view of the
subject, if I mistake not, my dear sir,

will suggest to your mind greater haz
ard to that fame which must be, and
ought to be, dear to you, in refusing
your future aid to the system than in
affording it. I will only add, that in
my estimate of the matter, that aid is
indispensable. " I have taken the liberty to express
these sentiments, and to lay before you
my view of the subject. I doubt not
the considerations mentioned have fully
occurred to you, and I trust they will
finally produce in your mind the same
result which exists in mine. I flatter
myself the frankness with which I have
delivered myself, will not be displeas
ing to you. It has been prompted by
motives which you would not disap
prove." In answer to this letter, Washington
expressed himself without reserve. " In
acknowledging," said he, " the receipt
of your candid and kind letter by the
last post, little more is incumbent on
me than to thank you sincerely for the
frankness with which you communicated
your sentiments, and to assure you that
the same manly tone of intercourse will
always be more than barely welcome —
indeed it will be highly acceptable to
me. " I am particularly glad, in the pres
ent instance, that you have dealt thus
freely and like a friend. Although I
could not help observing, from several
publications and letters, that my name
had been sometimes spoken of, and that
it was possible the contingency which is
the subject of your letter might happen,

Chap. I.]

THE ELECTION.

373

yet I thought it best to maintain a
guarded silence, and to lack the coun
sel of my best friends (which I certainly
hold in the highest estimation), rather
than to hazard an imputation unfriendly
to the delicacy of my feelings. For,
situated as I am, I could hardly bring
the question into the slightest discus
sion, or ask an opinion even in the most
confidential manner, without betraying,
in my judgment, some impropriety of
conduct, or without feeling an appre
hension that a premature display of
anxiety might be construed into a vain
glorious desire of pushing myself into
notice as a candidate. Now, if I am
not grossly deceived in myself, I should
unfeignedly rejoice, in case the electors,
by giving their votes in favor of some
other person, would save me from the
dreadful dilemma of being forced to ac
cept or refuse. If that may not be, I
am, in the next place, earnestly desirous
of searching out the truth, and of know
ing whether there does not exist a
probability that the government would
be just as happily and effectually car
ried into execution without my aid as
with it. I am truly solicitous to obtain
all the previous information which the
circumstances will afford, and to deter
mine (when the determination can with
propriety be no longer postponed) ac
cording to the principles of right rea
son, and the dictates of a clear con
science; without too great a reference
to the unforeseen consequences which
may affect my person or reputation.
Until that period, I may fairly hold
Voi. 11.-^8

myself open to conviction, though I al
low your sentiments to have weight in
them ; and I shall not pass by your ar
guments without giving them as dispas
sionate a consideration as I can possibly
bestow upon them.
" In taking a survey of the subject,
in whatever point of light I have been
able to place it, I will not suppress the
acknowledgment, my dear sir, that I
have always felt a kind of gloom upon
my mind, as often as I have been taught
to expect I might, and perhaps must ere
long, be called to make a decision. You
will, I am well assured, believe the as
sertion (though I have little expectation
it would gain credit from those who are
less acquainted with me), that if I
should receive the appointment, and
should be prevailed upon to accept it,
the acceptance would be attended with
more diffidence and reluctance than ever
I experienced before in my life. It
would be, however, with a fixed and
sole determination of lending whatever
assistance might be in my power to pro
mote the public weal, in hopes that at
a convenient and an early period, my
services might be dispensed with, and
that I might be permitted once more to
retire — to pass an unclouded evening,
after the stormy day of life, in the bo
som of domestic tranquillity."
This correspondence was thus closed
by Hamilton : " I feel a conviction that
you will finally see your acceptance to
be indispensable. It is no compliment
to say, that no other man can sufficiently
unite the public opinion, or can give

374

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the requisite weight to the office, in
the commencement of the government.
These considerations appear to me of
themselves decisive. I am not sure
that your refusal would not throw
every thing into confusion. I am sure
that it would have the worst effect im
aginable. " Indeed, as I hinted in a former let
ter, I think circumstances leave no op
tion." Although this correspondence does
not appear to have absolutely decided
Washington on the part he should em-
bi ace, it could not have been without
its influence on his judgment, nor have
failed to dispose him to yield to the
wish of his country. " I would willing
ly," said he to his estimable friend,
General Lincoln, who had also pressed
the subject on him, " pass over in silence
that part of your letter, in which you
mention the persons who are candidates
for the two first offices in the executive,
if I did not fear the omission might
seem to betray a want of confidence.
Motives of delicacy have prevented me
hitherto from conversing or writing on
this subject, whenever I could avoid it
with decency. I may, however, with
great sincerity, and I believe without
offending against modesty or propriety,
say to you that I most heartily wish
the choice to which you allude might
not fall upon me ; and that if it should,
I must reserve to myself the right of
making up my final decision at the last
moment, when it can be brought into
one view, and when the expediency or

inexpediency of a refusal can be more
judiciously determined than at present.
But be assured, my dear sir, if from any
inducement I shall be persuaded ulti
mately to accept, it will not be (so far
as I know my own heart) from any of
a private or personal nature. Every
personal consideration conspires to rivet
me (if I may use the expression) to re
tirement. At my time of life, and un
der my circumstances, nothing in this
world can ever draw me from it, unless
it be a conviction that the partiality of
my countrymen had made my services
absolutely necessary, joined to a fear
that my refusal might induce a belief that
I preferred the conservation of my own
reputation and private ease, to the good
of my country. After all, if I should
conceive myself in a manner constrained
to accept, I call Heaven to witness, that
this very act would be the greatest sac
rifice of my personal feelings and wishes
that ever I have been called upon to
make. It would be to forego repose
and domestic enjoyment for trouble —
perhaps for public obloquy ; for I should
consider myself as entering upon an
unexplored field, enveloped on every
side with clouds and darkness.
" From this embarrassing situation I
had naturally supposed that my dec
larations at the close of the war would
have saved me ; and that my sincere
intentions, then publicly made known,
would have effectually precluded me
forever afterwards from being looked
upon as a candidate for any office.
This hope, as a last anchor of wordly

Chap. I.]

THE ELECTION.

375

happiness in old age, I had still care
fully preserved, until the public papers
and private letters from my corre
spondents in almost every quarter,
taught me to apprehend that I might
soon be obliged to answer the question,
whether I would go again into public
life or not."
"I can say little or nothing new,"
said he in a letter to Lafayette, " in
consequence of the repetition of your
opinion on the expediency there will be
for my accepting the office to which you
refer. Your sentiments indeed coincide
much more nearly with those of my
other friends than with my own feel
ings. In truth, my difficulties increase
and magnify as I draw towards the pe
riod when, according to the common
belief, it will be necessary for me to
give a definitive answer in one way or
other. Should circumstances render it,
in a manner, inevitably necessary to be
in the affirmative, be assured, my dear
sir, I shall assume the task with the
most unfeigned reluctance, and with a
real diffidence, for which I shall proba
bly receive no credit from the world.
If I know my own heart, nothing 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 endeav
ors shall be unremittingly exerted (even
at the hazard of former fame or present
popularity) to extricate my country
from the embarrassments in which it is
entangled through want of credit ; and
to establish a general system of policy

which, if pursued, will insure permanent
felicity to the commonwealth. I think
I see a path, as clear and as direct as
a ray of light, which leads to the at
tainment of that object. Nothing but
harmony, 'honesty, industry, and fru
gality are necessary to make us a great
and happy people. Happily, the pres
ent posture of affairs, and the prevailing
disposition of my countrymen, promise
to co-operate in establishing those four
great and essential pillars of public fe
licity." After the electors had been chosen,
and before the electoral colleges met,
Washington was assailed with the usual
importunities of office-seekers.
As marking the frame of mind with
which he came into the government,
the following extract is given from one
of the many letters written to persons
whose pretensions he was disposed to
favor. " Should it become absolutely
necessary for me to occupy the station
in which your letter presupposes me, I
have determined to go into it perfectly
free from all engagements of every
nature whatsoever. A conduct in con
formity to this resolution would enable
me, in balancing the various pretensions
of different candidates for appointments,
to act with a sole reference to justice
and the public good. This is, in sub
stance, the answer that I have given to
all applications (and they are not few)
which have already been made. Among
the places sought after in these appli
cations, I must not conceal that the
office to which you particularly allude

376

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

is comprehended. This fact I tell you
merely as matter of information. My
general manner of thinking, as to the
propriety of holding myself totally dis
engaged, will apologize for my not
enlarging further on the subject.
" Though I am sensible that the pub
lic suffrage which places a man in office,
should prevent him from being swayed,
in the execution of it, by his private
inclinations, yet he may assuredly, with
out violating his duty, be indulged in the
continuance of his former attachments."
Although the time appointed for the
new government to commence its oper
ations was the 4th of March, 1789, the
members of Congress were so dilatory
in their attendance, that a House of
Representatives was not formed till the
first, nor a Senate till the 6th of April.
When at length the votes for presi
dent and vice-president were opened
and counted in the Senate, it was
found that Washington was unanimous
ly elected president, and that the
second number of votes was given to
John Adams. George Washington and
John Adams were therefore declared to
be duly elected president and vice-presi
dent of the United States, to serve for
four years from the 4th of March, 1789.
In a letter to General Knox, just be
fore this announcement, Washington
thus adverts to the delay in forming a

quorum of Congress : " I feel for those
members of the new Congress, who,
hitherto, have given an unavailing at
tendance at the theatre of action. For
myself, the delay may be compared to
a reprieve ; for, in confidence I tell
you (with the world it would obtain
little credit), that my movements to the
chair of government will be accom
panied by feelings not unlike those of a
culprit who is going to the place of his
execution ; so unwilling am I, in the
evening of life, nearly consumed in
public cares, to quit a peaceful abode
for an ocean of difficulties, without that
competency of political skill, abilities,
and inclination, which are necessary to
manage the helm. I am sensible that I
am embarking the voice of the people,
and a good name of my own, on this
voyage ; but what returns will be made
for them heaven alone can foretell. In
tegrity and firmness are all I can
promise : these, be the voyage long or
short, shall never forsake me, although
I may be deserted by all men ; for of
the consolations which are to be derived
from these, under any circumstances,
the world cannot deprive me." There
is every reason to believe that the dif
fidence expressed in the above was
sincere. It is perfectly consistent with
the unaffected modesty of Washington's
character.

DOCUMENT ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER I.

GOUVERNEUR MORRIS.
Gouvekneitb Mokeis was born at Morris-
ania, near the city of New York, January 31,
1752. He studied law, and was admitted to
the bar. He commenced his political career as
a member of the Provincial Congress in 1775,
and, in 1777, was chosen a delegate of the Con
tinental Congress. In 1781, he was a superin
tendent of finance conjointly with Robert Morris.
While a resident of Philadelphia, in 1780, he
was thrown from his carriage, by which acci
dent his leg was so severely fractured that
amputation became necessary, and he wore ever
after a rough wooden stick, which had been
hurriedly used in the first instance as an ex
pedient for his lost leg.
In 1789 he was a member of the convention
which formed the United States constitution.
He was appointed minister to France in 1792,
from which post he was recalled at the request
of the French government in 1794. He was
chosen a senator of the United States in 1800.
He was an able statesman, an eloquent debater,
and his work entitled "Observations on the
American Revolution," with other productions,
proves him to have been a very able writer. He
died on the 6th of November, 1818, at Mor-
risania. His brother, Lewis Morris, one of the signers
of the Declaration of Independence, was born
at Morrisania, near the city of New York, in
1726, and died in 1798. There were two other
brothers — Staats, who was an officer in the
British army, and member of Parliament, and
Richard, who was a judge of the vice-admiralty
court at New York, and subsequently chief-
justice. The founder of the family was Richard
Morris, who had been an officer under Crom
well, and went to America after the restoration

of Charles the Second, where a grant of land
was bestowed upon him, to which he gave the
name of Morrisania.
While a member of the Provincial Congress
of New York, Gouverneur Morris took a promi
nent part in the debates on the formation of the
constitution for that State ; and when the sub
ject of independence was brought forward, he
advocated the granting of full powers to the
delegates in Congress, in a very brilliant and
remarkable speech. His reputation, talent, zeal,
and ability were so considerable, that on the day
after taking his seat in the Continental Congress,
January 21st, 1778, he was placed upon a com
mittee to proceed to Valley Forge, in order to
confer with Washington on the reorganization
of the army. He was in Congress two years ;
but the fact of nearly all the other members of
his family being tories, and the circumstance
that he had made an ineffectual attempt to visit
his mother at the family mansion, then within
the British lines, gave his enemies an opportu
nity to render him, to a certain degree, unpopu
lar ; and although his services in Congress were
signal, he was not re-elected.
His appointment as assistant financier to Rob
ert Morris afforded an opportunity for the display
of his knowledge of finance. While in this office
he suggested the adoption of the decimal nota
tion, which renders our coinage the most con
venient in the world. He was appointed one of
the delegates from Pennsylvania to the conven
tion which formed the constitution of the United
States ; and in that capacity, by his tact in con
ciliating differences, his zeal and activity in
business, and his remarkable eloquence, he ren
dered important service. He was the author of
the text of the constitution. Its finished style,
its perspicuity and order, are merits which must
be attributed to his pen alone.

CHAPTER II.
1789.
THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.
Washington officially notified of his election. — His expressions of diffidence. —His regret at leaving Mount Vernon. —
Reception at Alexandria. — At Georgetown. — His journey to Philadelphia. — His reception there. — His reception
at Trenton. — At New York. — His mode of life at New York. — His levees disapproved. — His defence of them. —
His inauguration. — His inaugural address. — The executive departments continued. — Washington receives their
Reports. — Washington's daily life, as described by Mr. Custis. — Washington's illness. — Death of his mother. —
Her character. — Political condition of the country. — Disposition of foreign nations towards the United States. —
Spain. — Hostility of the Indians. — The Barbary States. — Great Britain. — Portugal. — France. — Washington's in
tercourse with the French minister, Count de Moustiers.— Measures of the first Congress. — Power of removing
executive officers discussed and settled. — Formation of political parties. — Washington's position superior to all
parties. — Causes of his success as president. — New heads of departments appointed. — Jefferson, secretary of
state ; Hamilton, secretary of the treasury ; General Knox, secretary of war ; John Jay, chief-justice of the
Supreme Court; John Adams, vice-president. — Character of the administration. — The opposition. — Adjourn
ment of Congress. — Washington's own views of the proceedings of Congress. — Washington's visit to New Eng
land. — His reception in Boston. — Mrs. Washington's letter respecting his visit to New England. — Mission to the
Creeks. — North Carolina joins the Union. — Further notices of Washington's mode of life in New York. — Effect
of his personal appearance and manners on a highly intelligent observer.

Washington's election was announc
ed to him by a special messenger from
Congress, on the 14th of April, 1*789.
His acceptance of it, and his expressions
of gratitude for this fresh proof of the
esteem and confidence of his country,
were connected with declarations of
diffidence in himself. " I wish," he said,
" that there may not be reason for re
gretting the choice, — for indeed, all I
can promise, is to accomplish that which
can be done by an honest zeal."
As the public business required the
immediate attendance of the president
at the seat of government, he hastened
his departure ; and, on the second day

after receiving notice of his appoint
ment, took leave of Mount Vernon.
In an entry made by himself in his
diary, the feelings inspired by an occa
sion so affecting to his mind are thus
described : " About ten o'clock I bade
adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life,
and to domestic felicity; and with a
mind oppressed with more anxious and
painful sensations than I have words to
express, set out for New York in com
pany with Mr. Thomson and Colonel
Humphreys, with the best dispositions
to render service to my country in
obedience to its call, but with less hope
of answering its expectations."

Chap. H.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

879

" The president and his lady," says
Mr. Custis, "bid adieu with extreme
regret to the tranquil and happy shades
where a few years of repose had, in a
great measure, effaced the effects of the
toils and anxieties of war ; where a
little Eden had bloomed and flourished
under their fostering hands ; and where
a numerous circle of friends and rela
tives would sensibly feel the privation
of their departure. They departed,
and hastened to where duty called the
man of his country."
Soon after leaving Mount Vernon,
he was met by a cavalcade of gentle
men who escorted him to Alexandria,
where a public dinner had been pre
pared, to which he was invited. Arrived
at that place, he was greeted by a pub
lic address, to which he made an appro
priate reply. The address differs from
others, inasmuch as it came from his
personal friends and neighbors, and
gives some interesting personal details.
The tenor of the following passage
must have sensibly touched the feelings
of Washington :
"Not to extol your glory as a soldier ;
not to pour forth our gratitude for past
services; not to acknowledge the justice
of the unexampled honor which has
been conferred upon you by the spon
taneous and unanimous suffrages of
three millions of freemen, in your elec
tion to the supreme magistracy ; nor to
admire the patriotism which directs
your conduct, do your neighbors and
friends now address you. Themes less
splendid, but more endearing, impress

our minds. The first and best of citizens
must leave us : our aged must lose their
ornament ; our youth their model ; our
agriculture its improver ; our commerce
its friend ; our infant academy its pro
tector ; our poor their benefactor ; and
the interior navigation of the Potomac
(an event replete with the most exten
sive utility, already, by your unremitted
exertions, brought into partial use) its
institutor and promoter."
Washington left Alexandria on the
afternoon of the same day, and attended
by his neighbors proceeded to George
town, where he was received by a
number of citizens of Maryland. His
journey thenceforth to the seat of gov
ernment was a continual triumph. Mili
tary escorts, cavalcades of citizens, and
crowds of people of all ages and both
sexes awaited his arrival at each town.
We may imagine the enthusiastic shouts
and welcomes with which he was re
ceived by the people.
On his approach to Philadelphia he
was met by Governor Mifflin, Judge
Peters, and a military escort, headed by
General St. Clair, and followed by the
usual cavalcade of gentlemen. Wash
ington was mounted on a splendid white
horse. The procession passed into the
city through triumphal arches adorned
with wreaths of flowers and laurel,
attended by an immense crowd of peo
ple. The day was a public festival,
and in the evening an illumination and
a display of fireworks testified the en
thusiasm of the occasion. The next
clay, at Trenton, he was welcomed in a

380

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

manner as new as it was pleasing. In
addition to the usual demonstrations of
respect and attachment which were
given by the discharge of cannon, by
military corps, and by private persons
of distinction, the gentler sex prepared
in their own taste a tribute of applause
indicative of the grateful recollection
in which they held their deliverance
twelve years before from a formidable
enemy. On the bridge over the creek
which passes through the town, was
erected a triumphal arch highly orna
mented with laurels and flowers, and
supported by thirteen pillars, each en
twined with wreaths of evergreen. On
the front arch was inscribed in large gilt
letters, "The defender of the mothers
will be the protector of the daughters."
On the centre of the arch, above the
inscription, was a dome or cupola of
flowers and evergreens, encircling the
dates of two memorable events which
were peculiarly interesting to New
Jersey. The first was the battle of
Trenton, and the second the bold and
judicious stand made by the American
troops at the same creek, by which the
progress of the British army was ar
rested on the evening preceding the
battle of Princeton.
At this place, he was met by a party
of matrons leading their daughters
dressed in white, who carried baskets
of flowers in their hands, and sang, with
exquisite sweetness, an ode of two stan
zas composed for the occasion.
At New Brunswick, he was joined by
the governor of New Jersey, who ac

companied him to Elizabethtown Point.
A committee of Congress received him
on the road, and conducted him with
military parade to the Point, where he
took leave of the governor and other
gentlemen of New Jersey, and em
barked for New York in an elegant
barge of thirteen oars, manned by thir
teen branch pilots, prepared for the
purpose by the citizens of New York.
" The display of boats," says Wash
ington, in his private journal, " which
attended and joined on this occasion,
some with vocal and others with in
strumental music on board, the decora
tions of the ships, the roar of cannon,
and the loud acclamations of the people,
which rent the sky as I passed along
the wharves, filled my mind with sensa
tions as painful (contemplating the re
verse of this scene, which may be the
case after all my labors to do good) as
they were pleasing."
At the stairs on Murray's wharf,
which had been prepared and orna
mented for the purpose, he was received
by Governor Clinton of New York, and
conducted with military honors, through
an immense concourse of people, to the
apartments provided for him. These
were attended by all who were in
office, and by many private citizens of
distinction, who pressed around him to
offer their congratulations, and to ex
press the joy which glowed in their
bosoms at seeing the man in whom all
confided, at the head of the American
empire. This day of extravagant joy was
succeeded by a splendid illumination.

Chap, n.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

381

Mr. Custis, writing of the journey
from Mount Vernon to New York, and
of Washington's mode of living at the
seat of government, says :
" The august spectacle at the bridge
of Trenton brought tears to the eyes of
the chief, and forms one of the most
brilliant recollections of the age of
Washington. " Arrived at the seat of the federal
government, the president and Mrs.
Washington formed their establishment
upon a scale that, while it partook of
all the attributes of our republican in
stitutions, possessed at the same time
that degree of dignity and regard for
appearances so necessary to give our
infant republic respect in the eyes of
the world. The house was handsomely
furnished ; the equipages neat, with
horses of the first order ; the servants
wore the family liveries ; and, with
the exception of a steward and house
keeper, the whole establishment differed
but little from that of a private gentle
man. On Tuesdays, from three to four
o'clock, the president received the for
eign ambassadors, and strangers who
wished to be introduced to him. On
these occasions, and when opening the
sessions of Congress, the president wore
a dress sword. His personal apparel
was always remarkable for its being
old-fashioned, and exceedingly plain and
neat. On Thursdays were the con
gressional dinners, and on Friday nights
Mrs. Washington's drawing-room. The
company usually assembled about seven,
and rarely stayed exceeding ten o'clock.
Vol. II.— 49

The ladies were seated, and the presi
dent passed around the circle, paying
his compliments to each. At the
drawing-rooms, Mrs. Morris always sat
at the right of the lady president ; and
at all the dinners, public or private, at
which Robert Morris was a guest, that
venerable man was placed at the right
of Mrs. Washington.
" On the great national festivals of
the fourth of July and twenty-second of
February, the sages of the revolution
ary Congress, and the officers of the
revolutionary army, renewed their ac
quaintance with Mrs. Washington ;
many and kindly greetings took place,
with many a recollection of the days of
trial. The Cincinnati, after paying
their respects to their chief, were seen
to file off towards the parlor, where
Lady Washington was in waiting to re
ceive them, and where Wayne, and
Mifflin, and Dickenson, and Stewart,
and Moylan, and Hartley, and a host of
veterans, were cordially welcomed as
old friends, and where many an interest
ing reminiscence was called up, of the
head-quarters and the 'times of the
Revolution.' " On Sundays, unless the weather was
uncommonly severe, the president and
Mrs. Washington attended divine ser
vice at Christ Church ; and in the even
ings the president read to Mrs. Wash
ington, in her chamber, a sermon, or
some portion from the sacred writings.
No visitors, with the exception of Mr.
Speaker Trumbull, were admitted to
the presidoliad on Sundays.

382

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

" There was one description of visit
ors, however, to be found about the first
president's mansion on all clays. The
old soldiers repaired, as they said, to
head-quarters just to inquire after the
health of his Excellency and Lady
Washington. They knew his Excellen
cy was, of course, much engaged, but
they would like to see the good lady.
One had been a soldier of the life
guard ; another had been on duty when
the British threatened to surprise the
head-quarters ; a third had witnessed
that terrible fellow, Cornwallis, surren
der his sword : each one had some touch
ing appeal with which to introduce him
self to the peaceful head-quarters of the
presidoliad. All were ' kindly bid to
stay ;' were conducted to the steward's
apartments, and refreshments set before
them ; and, after receiving some little
token from the lady, with her best
wishes for the health and happiness of
an old soldier, they went their ways,
while blessings upon their revered com
mander and the good Lady Washington
were uttered by many a war-worn vet
eran of the Revolution."*
The simple mode of life above de
scribed, did not save Washington from
public censure by those who are always
ready to carp at the doings of distin
guished men, however unexceptionable
their conduct may be. Free levees
were said to savor of an affectation of
royal state. In a letter to his friend
Dr. Stewart, Washington thus puts to
8 Memoir of Martha Washington, in Longacre's Gallery.

silence this calumny, with his usual good
sense and unanswerable argument:
" Before the custom was established
which now accommodates foreign char
acters, strangers and others, who, from
motives of curiosity, respect to the chief
magistrate, or any other cause, are in
duced to call upon me, I was unable to
attend to any business whatsoever. For
gentlemen, consulting their own con
venience rather than mine, were calling
from the time I rose from breakfast —
often before — until I sat down to din
ner. This, as I resolved not to neglect
my public duties, reduced me to the
choice of one of these alternatives —
either to refuse them altogether, or to
appropriate a time for the reception of
them. The first would, I well knew, be
disgusting to many ; the latter I ex
pected would undergo animadversion
from those who would find fault with
or without cause. To please every
body was impossible. I therefore
adopted that line of conduct which com
bined public advantage with private
convenience, and which, in my judg
ment, was unexceptionable in itself.
" These visits are optional. They are
made without invitation. Between the
hours of three and four every Tuesday
I am prepared to receive them. Gen
tlemen, often in great numbers, come
and go ; — chat with each other ; — and
act as they please. A porter shows
them into the room ; and they retire
from it when they choose, and without
ceremony. At their first entrance, they
salute me, and I them, and as many as

Chap, n.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

383

I can talk to, I do. What pomp there
is in all this I am unable to discover.
Perhaps it consists in not sitting. To
this two reasons are opposed : firet, it is
unusual ; secondly (which is a more
substantial one), because I have no
room large enough to contain a third of
the chairs which would be sufficient to
admit it. If it is supposed that ostenta
tion, or the fashions of courts (which
by the by I believe originate oftener in
convenience, not to say necessity, than
is generally imagined) gave rise to this
custom, I will boldly affirm that no
supposition was ever more erroneous ;
for were I to indulge my inclinations,
every moment that I could withdraw
from the fatigues of my station should
be spent in retirement. That they are
not, proceeds from the sense I entertain
of the propriety of giving to every one
as free access as consists with that re
spect which is due to the chair of gov
ernment; — and that respect, I conceive,
is neither to be acquired or preserved,
but by maintaining a just medium be
tween too much state and too great
familiarity. " Similar to the above, but of a more
familiar and sociable kind, are the visits
every Friday afternoon to Mrs. Wash
ington, where I always am. These
public meetings, and a dinner once a
week to as many as my table will hold,
with the references to and from the
different departments of state, and other
communications with all parts of the
Union, is as much if not more than I
am able to undergo ; for I have already

had within less than a year, two se
vere attacks,— the last worse than the
first : a third, it is more than probable,
will put me to sleep with my fathers —
at what distance this may be, I know
not." The inauguration of Washington de
serves particular notice, inasmuch as in
its chief outlines it has served for the
precedent to all succeeding inaugura
tions. Congress had determined that
the ceremony of taking the oath of of
fice should be performed in public, and
in the open air. It took place on the
30th of April, 1*789. In the morning
religious services were performed in all
the churches of the city. At twelve
o'clock a procession was formed at the
residence of the president, consisting of
a military escort, and the committees of
Congress and heads of departments in
carriages, followed by Washington alone
in a carriage, and his aid-de-camp, Colo
nel Humphreys, and secretary, Mr. Lear,
in another carriage, with the foreign
ministers and citizens bringing up the
rear. The procession moved to the
hall of Congress, where Washington
alighted with his attendants and en
tered the senate chamber. Here he
was received by the Senate and House
of Representatives. The vice-president,
John Adams, conducted Washington
to his appointed seat, and shortly after
announced to him that all was pre
pared for his taking the oath of of
fice. Washington then proceeded to
an open balcony in front of the house,
where was a table with an open Bible

384

LD7E AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

lying upon it. On his appearance in
the balcony, he was received with a
most enthusiastic burst of popular ap
plause, which he acknowledged by
bowing to the people. Chancellor Liv
ingston administered the oath, while
Adams, Hamilton, Knox, Steuben, and
others stood near the president. While
the oath was being administered, Wash
ington laid his hand on the Bible. At
its conclusion he said, " I swear — so help
me God." His administration proves
that the oath wa3 sincere. He then
stooped down and kissed the Bible.
When the ceremony was concluded, he
returned to the senate chamber and de
livered his inaugural address to the two
branches of Congress. He then pro
ceeded on foot, with the whole assem
blage, to St. Paul's Church, where
prayers were read by the bishop, and
the public ceremonial of the day was
completed. The occasion was celebrated by the
people as a grand festival, and in the
evening there was a display of fire
works, as well as a general illumination
of the city.
This display of enthusiasm on the
part of the people was far from render
ing Washington over-confident of suc
cess in his new position. He was
thoroughly aware of the difficulties
which would have to be encountered
in putting the new government into
action, so as to insure its stability and
success. The opening of his inaugural
address to both branches of Congress,
gives a clear indication of his views

and feelings on taking office. It is as
follows :
" Among the vicissitudes incident to
life, no event could have filled me with
greater anxieties than that of which
the notification was transmitted by
your order, and received on the 14th
day of the present month. On the one
hand, I was summoned by my country,
whose voice I can never hear but with
veneration and love, from a retreat
which I had chosen with the fondest
predilection, and, in my flattering hopes,
with an immutable decision, as the asy
lum of my declining years : a retreat
which was rendered every day more
necessary as well as more dear to me,
by the addition of habit to inclination,
and of frequent interruptions in my
health to the gradual waste committed
on it by time. On the other hand, the
magnitude and difficulty of the trust to
which the voice of my country called
me, being sufficient to awaken in the
wisest and most experienced of her
citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his
qualifications, could not but overwhelm
with despondence one, who, inheriting
inferior endowments from nature, and
unpractised in the duties of civil admin
istration, ought to be peculiarly con
scious of his own deficiencies. In this
conflict of emotions, all I dare aver is,
that it has been my faithful study to
collect my duty from a just apprecia
tion of every circumstance by which it
might be effected. All I dare hope is,
that if, in accepting this task, I have
been too much swayed by a grateful

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Chap. H.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

385

remembrance of former instances, or by
an affectionate sensibility to this tran
scendent proof of the confidence of
my fellow-citizens ; and have thence
too little consulted my incapacity, as
well as disinclination for the weighty
and untried cares before me ; my er
ror will be palliated by the motives
which misled me, and its consequences
be judged by my country with some
share of the partiality in which they
originated. " Such being the impressions under
which I have, in obedience to the pub
lic summons, repaired to the present
station, it will be peculiarly improper
to omit, in this first official act, my fer
vent supplications to that Almighty
Being who rules over the universe —
who presides in the councils of nations,
and whose providential aids can sup
ply every human defect — that his bene
diction may consecrate to the liberties
and happiness of the people of the
United States, a government instituted
by themselves for these essential pur
poses ; and may enable every instru
ment employed in its administration, to
execute with success the functions al
lotted to his charge. In tendering this
homage to the great Author of every
public and private good, I assure myself
that it expresses your sentiments not
less than my own ; nor those of my
fellow-citizens at large, less than either.
No people can be bound to acknowl
edge and adore the invisible hand
which conducts the affairs of men, more
than the people of the United States.

Every step by which they have ad
vanced to the character of an indepen
dent nation seems to have been distin
guished by some token of providential
agency ; and in the important revolu
tion just accomplished in the system of
their united government, the tranquil
deliberations and voluntary consent of
so many distinct communities, from
which the event has resulted, cannot
be compared with the means by which
most governments have been estab
lished, without some return of pious
gratitude, along with an humble antici
pation of the future blessings which
the past seem to presage. These re
flections, arising out of the present
crisis, have forced themselves too
strongly on my mind to be suppressed.
You will join with me, I trust, in think
ing that there are none, under the in
fluence of which the proceedings of a
new and free government can more
auspiciously commence."
It will be seen by these expressions
that the same sense of solemn responsi
bility, and the same undoubting trust
in Providence, so often evinced by
Washington during the conflicts and
perils of the war, marked his entrance
upon the arduous duties of chief magis
trate of the nation. As in the previous
instance of accepting office, he now
signified to Congress that he would
receive no compensation for his servi
ces, except such as should be necessary
to defray the expenses incident to the
position in which he was placed.
This determination was announced in

386

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the concluding portion of the inaugural
address, which was as follows :
" By the article establishing the ex
ecutive department, it is made the duty
of the president 'to recommend to your
consideration such measures as he shall
judge necessary and expedient.' The
circumstances under which I now meet
you will acquit me from entering into
that subject, further than to refer to
the great constitutional charter under
which you are assembled, and which, in
defining your powers, designates the
objects to which your attention is to be
given. It will be more consistent with
those circumstances, and far more con
genial with the feelings which actuate
me, to substitute in place of a recom
mendation of particular measures, the
tribute that is due to the talents, the
rectitude, and the patriotism, which
adorn the characters selected to devise
and adopt them. In these honora
ble qualifications, I behold the surest
pledges that, as on one side no local
prejudices or attachments, no separate
views nor party animosities, will misdi
rect the comprehensive and equal eye
which ought to watch over this great as
semblage of communities and interests ;
so, on another, that the foundations of
our national policy will be laid in the
pure and immutable principles of pri
vate morality ; and the pre-eminence of
free government be exemplified by all
the attributes which can win the affec
tions of its citizens, and command the
respect of the world. I dwell on this
prospect with every satisfaction which

an ardent love for my country can
inspire, since there is no truth more
thoroughly established, than that there
exists, in the economy and course of
nature, an indissoluble union between
virtue and happiness — between duty
and advantage — between the genuine
maxims of an honest and magnanimous
policy, and the solid rewards of public
prosperity and felicity ; since we ought
to be no less persuaded that the pro
pitious smiles of Heaven can never be
expected on a nation that disregards
the eternal rules of order and right
which Heaven itself has ordained ; and
since the preservation of the sacred fire
of liberty, and the destiny of the re
publican model of government, are
justly considered as deeply, perhaps as
finally, staked on the experiment in
trusted to the hands of the American
people. "Besides the ordinary objects sub
mitted to your care, it will remain with
your judgment to decide how far an
exercise of the occasional power dele
gated by the fifth article of the consti
tution is rendered expedient, at the
present juncture, by the nature of ob
jections which have been urged against
the system, or by the degree of inquie
tude which has given birth to them.
Instead of undertaking particular re
commendations on this subject, in which
I could be guided by no lights derived
from official opportunities, I shall again
give way to my entire confidence in
your discernment and pursuit of the
public good ; for I assure myself that

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

887

whilst you carefully avoid every altera
tion which might endanger the benefits
of a united and effective government,
or which ought to await the future
lessons of experience, a reverence for
the characteristic rights of freemen, and
a regard for the public harmony, will
sufficiently influence your deliberations
on the question how far the former can
be more impregnably fortified, or the
latter be safely and advantageously
promoted. " To the preceding observations I
have one to add, which will be most
properly addressed to the House of
Representatives. It concerns myself,
and will therefore be as brief as possi
ble. When I was first honored with a
call into the service of my country,
then on the eve of an arduous struggle
for its liberties, the light in which I
contemplated my duty required that I
should renounce every pecuniary com
pensation. From this resolution I have
in no instance departed. And being
still under the impressions which pro
duced it, I must decline, as inapplicable
to myself, any share in the personal
emoluments which may be indispen
sably included in a permanent provision
for the executive department ; and must
accordingly pray that the pecuniary
estimates for the station in which I am
placed, may, during my continuance in
it, be limited to such actual expendi
tures as the public good may be thought
to require.
" Having thus imparted to you my
sentiments, as they have been awakened

by the occasion which brings us to
gether, I shall take my present leave ;
but not without resorting once more to
the benign Parent of the human race,
in humble supplication, that since he
has been pleased to favor the American
people with opportunities for delibera
ting in perfect tranquillity, and disposi
tions for deciding with unparalleled
unanimity, on a form of government
for the security of their union and the
advancement of their happiness, so his
divine blessing may be equally con
spicuous in the enlarged views, the
temperate consultations, and the wise
measures on which the success of this
government must depend."
This speech was read to Congress by
the president himself. The practice of
sending a message, instead of reading
the speech in person, was introduced
by President Jefferson, who did not
appear to advantage as an orator, and
it has been continued to the present
time. The same persons who found
fault with Washington's levees, would
probably have regarded the practice
introduced by Washington as anti-re
publican, as it is practised by the sove
reigns of Great Britain.
The executive departments which
had existed under the confederation,
were necessarily continued until Con
gress should make new arrangements.
Mr. Jay still acted as secretary of for
eign affairs, an office analogous to that
which is now denominated secretary of
state, and General Knox as secretary of
war. The treasury was intrusted to a

388

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

board of commissioners. Each of these
at the request of the president furnished
a full report of the state of the depart
ment respectively under their control.
To the digesting, condensing, and study
ing of these, and of the diplomatic
correspondence of the government since
the close of the war, Washington now
devoted himself with unwearied at
tention. Of the mode in which his daily life was
now passed during the hours when not
engaged in official duty, we gain a pleas
ing glimpse from the following extract
from G. W. P. Custis's "Recollections,
and Private Memoirs of the Life and
Character of Washington," as follows :
" In the then limited extent and im
provement of the city, there was some
difficulty in selecting a mansion for the
residence of the chief magistrate, and a
house suitable to his rank and station.
Osgood's house, a mansion of very
moderate extent, was at length fixed
upon, situated in Cherry-street.
"There the president became domi
ciled. His domestic family consisted of
Mrs. Washington, the two adopted chil
dren, Mr. Lear, as principal secretary,
Colonel Humphreys, with Messrs. Lewis
and Nelson, secretaries, and Major Wil
liam Jackson, aid-de-camp.
"Persons visiting the house in Cherry-
street at this time of day, will wonder
how a building so small could contain
the many and mighty spirits that
thronged its halls in olden days. Con
gress, cabinets, all public functionaries
in the commencement of the govern

ment, were selected from the very eUte
of the nation. Pure patriotism, com
manding talent, eminent services, were
the proud and indispensable requisites
for official station in the first days of
the Republic. The first Congress was a
most enlightened and dignified body.
In the Senate were several of the mem
bers of the Congress of 17*76, and
signers of the Declaration of Independ
ence, — Richard Henry Lee, who mov
ed the Declaration, John Adams, who
seconded it, with Sherman, Morris,
Carroll, &c.
"The levees of the first president were
attended by these illustrious patriots
and statesmen, and by many other of the
patriots, statesmen, and soldiers, who
could say of the Revolution, ' magna
pa/i^s fui,J while numbers of foreigners
and strangers of distinction crowded to
the seat of the general government, all
anxious to witness the grand experiment
that was to determine how much rational
liberty mankind is capable of enjoying,
without said liberty degenerating into
licentiousness. "Mrs. Washington's drawing-rooms,
on Friday nights, were attended by the
grace and beauty of New York. On
one of these occasions, an incident oc
curred which might have been attended
by serious consequences. Owing to the
lowness of the ceiling in the drawing-
room, the ostrich feather in the head
dress of Miss Mclver, a belle of New
York, took fire from the chandelier, to
the no small alarm of the company.
Major Jackson, aid-de-camp to the presi-

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

389

dent, with great presence of mind, and
equal gallantry, flew to the rescue of
the lady, and, by clapping the burning
plumes between his hands, extinguished
the flames, and the drawing-room went
on as usual.
" Washington preserved the habit, as
well in public as in private life, of ris
ing at four o'clock, and retiring to bed
at nine. On Saturdays he rested some
what from his labors, by either riding
into the country, attended by a groom,
or with his family in his coach drawn
by six horses.
" Fond of horses, the stables of the
president were always in the finest order,
and his equipage excellent, both in
taste and quality. Indeed, so long ago
as the days of the vice-regal court of
Lord Botetourt, at Williamsburg, in
Virginia, we find that there existed a
rivalry between the equipages of Colonel
Byrd, a magnate of the old regime,
and Colonel Washington — the grays
against the bays. Bishop, the cele
brated body-servant of Braddock, was
the master of Washington's stables.
And there were what was termed
muslin horses in those days. At cock
crow, the stable-boys were at work : at
sunrise Bishop stalked into the stables,
a muslin handkerchief in his hand,
which he applied to the coats of the
animals, and, if the slightest stain was
perceptible upon the muslin, up went
the luckless wights of the stable-boys,
and punishment was administered in
stanter; for to the veteran Bishop, bred
amid the iron discipline of European
Vol. II.— 50

armies, mercy for any thing like a
breach of duty was altogether out of
the question.
" The president's stables in Philadel
phia were under the direction of Ger
man John, and the grooming of the
white chargers will rather surprise the
moderns. The night before the horses
were expected to be rode, they were
covered entirely over with a paste, of
which whiting was the principal com
ponent part ; then the animals were
swathed in body-clothes, and left to
sleep upon clean straw. In the morn
ing the composition had become hard,
was well rubbed in, and curried and
brushed, which process gave to the
coats a beautiful, glossy, and satin-like
appearance. The hoofs were then
blacked and polished, the mouths wash
ed, teeth picked and cleaned, and, the
leopard-skin housings being properly
adjusted, the white chargers were led
out for service. Such was the groom
ing of ancient times.
" There was but one theatre in New
York in 1789 (in John-street), and so
small were its dimensions, that the
whole fabric might easily be placed on
the stage of one of our modern theatres.
Yet, humble as was the edifice, it pos
sessed an excellent company of actors
and actresses, including old Morris, who
was the associate of Garrick, in the very
outset of that great actor's career at
Goodman's Fields. The stage-boxes were
appropriated to the president and vice-
president, and were each of them deco
rated with emblems, trophies, &c. At

390

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the foot of the playbills were always
the words, ' Vivat Ilespnblica? Wash
ington often visited this theatre, be
ing particularly gratified by Wignell's
performance of Darby, in the Poor
Soldier. " It was in the theatre in John-street
that the now national air of ' Hail
Columbia,' then called the 'President's
March,' was first played. It was com
posed by a German musician by the
name of Fyles, the leader of the orches
tra, in compliment to the president.
The national air will last as lono: as the
nation lasts, while the meritorious com
poser has been long since forgotten.
" It was while residing in Cherry-
street that the president was attacked
by a severe illness, that required a
surgical operation. He was attended
by the elder and younger Doctors
Bard. The elder being somewhat doubt
ful of his nerves, gave the knife to his
son, bidding him ' cut away — deeper,
deeper still ; don't be afraid ; you see
how well he bears it.' Great anxiety
was felt in New York, at this time, as
the president's case was considered ex
tremely dangerous. Happily, the op
eration proved successful, and the pa
tient's recovery removed all cause of
alarm. During the illness a chain was
stretched across the street, and the
sidewalks laid with straw. Soon after
his recovery, the president set out on
his intended tour through the New
England States.
" The president's mansion was so
limited in accommodation that three of

the secretaries were compelled to oc
cupy one room — Humphreys, Lewis, and
Nelson. Humphreys, aid-de-camp to the
commander-in-chief at Yorktown, was a
most estimable man, and at the same
time a poet. About this period he was
composing his ' Widow of Malabac'
Lewis and Nelson, both young men,
were content, after the labors of the
day, to enjoy a good night's repose.
But this was often denied them ; for
Humphreys, when in the vein, would
rise from his bed at any hour, and, with
stentorian voice, recite his verses. The
young men, roused from their slumbers,
and rubbing their eyes, beheld a great
burly figure, ' en c7iemise,'1 striding across
the floor, reciting, with great emphasis,
particular passages from his poems, and
calling on his room-mates for their ap
probation. Having, in this way, for a
considerable time ' murdered the sleep'
of his associates, Humphreys, at length,
wearied by his exertions, would sink
upon his pillow in a kind of dreamy
languor. So sadly were the young
secretaries annoyed by the frequent
outbursts of the poet's imagination, that
it was remarked of them by their
friends, that, from 1789 to the end of
their lives, neither Robert Lewis nor
Thomas Nelson was ever known to
evince the slightest taste for poetry."
Washington had hardly recovered
from the severe attack of illness above
referred to, when he heard of the death
of his mother, who died on the 25th of
August, 1789. He had paid her a visit
just before leaving Mount Vernon for

Chap. II.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

591

the seat of government. She was then
residing at Fredericksburg, and was
gradually sinking under a disease which
was evidently mortal ; and Washington,
fully aware that he was seeing her for
the last time, was much affected at the
interview. She also felt that they
were parting to meet no more in this
world. " But she bade him go, with
Heaven's blessing and her own, to ful
fil the high destinies to which he had
been called."
The mother of Washington was in
many respects a remarkable woman.
Her influence over her son in early life
we have already had occasion to notice.
In her last days she presents a true pic
ture of matronly dignity. Mr. Custis
states that she was continually visited
and solaced, in the retirement of her
declining years, by her children and
numerous grandchildren. Her daugh
ter, Mrs. Lewis, repeatedly and earnestly
solicited her to remove to her house,
and there pass the remainder of her
days. Her son pressingly entreated
her that she would make Mount Vernon
the home of her age. But the matron's
answer was: "I thank you for your
affectionate and dutiful offers, but my
wants are few in this world, and I feel
perfectly competent to take care of my
self." To the proposition of her son-in-
law, Colonel Lewis, to relieve her by
taking the direction of her concerns, she
replied : " Do you, Fielding, keep my
books in order, for your eyesight is
better than mine ; but leave the exec
utive management to me." Such were

the energy and independence she pre
served to an age beyond that usually
allotted to mortals, and till within three
years of her death, when the disease
under which she suffered (cancer of the
breast) prevented exertion.
Her meeting with Washington, after
the victory which decided the fortune
of America, illustrates her character
too strikingly to be omitted : " After
an absence of nearly seven years, it
was, at length, on the return of the
combined armies from Yorktown, per
mitted to the mother to see and em
brace her illustrious son. So soon as
he had dismounted, in the midst of a
numerous and brilliant suite, he sent to
apprise her of his arrival, and to know
when it would be her pleasure to re
ceive him. And now, mark the force
of early education and habits, and the
superiority of the Spartan over the
Persian schools, in this interview of the
great Washington with his admirable
parent and instructor. No pageantry of
war proclaimed his coming — no trump
ets sounded — no banners waved. Alone,
and on foot, the marshal of France, the
general-in-chief of the combined armies
of France and America, the deliverer
of his country, the hero of the age, re
paired to pay his humble duty to her
whom he venerated as the author of his
being, the founder of his fortune and
his fame. Full well he knew that the
matron was made of sterner stuff than
to be moved by all the pride that glory
ever gave, or by all the ' pomp and cir
cumstance' of power.

392

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

"The lady was alone — her aged
hands employed in the works of do
mestic industry — when the good news
was announced ; and it was further told,
that the victor-chief was in waiting at
the threshold. She welcomed him with
a warm embrace, and by the well-re
membered and endearing names of his
childhood. Inquiring as to his health,
she remarked the lines which mighty
cares and many trials had made on his
manly countenance ; spoke much of old
times and old friends ; but of his glory,
not one word!
" Meantime, in the village of Fred
ericksburg, all was joy and revelry.
The town was crowded with the officers
of the French and American armies,
and with gentlemen from all the country
around, who hastened to welcome the
conquerors of Cornwallis. The citizens
made arrangements for a splendid ball,
to which the mother of Washington
was specially invited. She observed,
that although her dancing days were
pretty well over, she should feel happy
in contributing to the general festivity,
and consented to attend.
" The foreign officers were anxious to
see the mother of their chief. They
had heard indistinct rumors respecting
her remarkable life and character ; but,
forming their judgment from European
examples, they were prepared to ex
pect in the mother that glare and show
which would have been attached to the
parents of the great in the old world.
How were they surprised when the
matron, leaning on the arm of her son,

entered the room ! She was arrayed in
the very plain, yet becoming garb worn
by the Virginia lady of the olden time.
Her address, always dignified and im
posing, was courteous though reserved.
She received the complimentary atten
tions which were profusely paid her,
without evincing the slightest eleva
tion ; and, at an early hour, wished the
company much enjoyment of their
pleasures, and observing that it was
time for old people to be at home, re
tired, leaning as before on the arm of
her son."
To this picture may be added an
other :
" The Marquis cle Lafayette repaired
to Fredericksburg, jprevious to his de
parture for Europe, in the fall of 1784,
to pay his parting respects to the
mother, and to ask her blessing. Con
ducted by one of her grand-sons, he
approached the house, when the young
gentleman observed : ' There, sir, is
my grandmother.' Lafayette beheld —
working in the garden, clad in domes
tic-made clothes, and her gray head
covered with a plain straw hat — the
mother of ' his hero, his friend, and a
country's preserver.' The lady saluted
him, kindly observing : ' Ah, marquis !
you see an old woman ; but come, I can
make you welcome to my poor dwell
ing, without the parade of changing
my dress.' "
To the encomiums lavished by the
marquis on his chief, the mother re
plied : " I am not surprised at what
George has done, for he was always a

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

393

very good boy." So simple, in her true
greatness of soul, was this remarkable
woman. Her piety was ardent ; and she asso
ciated devotion with the grand and
beautiful in nature. She was in the
habit of repairing every day for prayer
to a secluded spot, formed by rocks
and trees, near her dwelling.
The person of Mrs. Washington is
described as being of the medium
height, and well proportioned — her
features pleasing, though strongly mark
ed. There were few painters in the
colonies in those days, and no portrait
of her is in existence. Her biographer
saw her but with infant eyes ; but well
remembered the sister of the chief. Of
her we are told nothing, except that
"she was a most majestic woman, and
so strikingly like the brother, that it
was a matter of frolic to throw a cloak
around her, and place a military hat
upon her head ; and such was the per
fect resemblance, that had she appeared
on her brother's steed, battalions would
have presented arms, and senates risen
to do homage to the chief."
Mrs. Washington died at the age of
eighty-five, rejoicing in the conscious
ness of a life well spent, and the hope
of a blessed immortality. Her ashes
repose at Fredericksburg, where a splen
did monument has been erected to her
memory.* Deeply as Washington felt the loss
of his estimable parent, his attention

• Mrs. Ellet, Women of the Revolution.

was speedily withdrawn from his pri
vate and personal interests by the im
portant political affairs which were
pressing upon him. Congress were now
fairly engaged in giving form and effi
ciency to the newly created govern
ment^ The continued existence of the
constitution itself was menaced by some
of the States which had acceded to it,
as well as by those who had refused to
adopt it.
In some of the States, a disposition
to acquiesce in the decision which had
been made, and to await the issue of a
fair experiment of the constitution, was
avowed by the minority. In others,
the chagrin of defeat seemed to increase
the original hostility to the instrument ;
and serious fears were entertained by
its friends, that a second general con
vention might pluck from it the most
essential of its powers, before their
value, and the safety with which they
might be confided where they were
placed, could be ascertained by expe
rience. From the same cause, exerting itself
in a different direction, the friends of
the new system had been still more
alarmed. In all those States where the
opposition was sufficiently formidable
to inspire a hope of success, the effort
f One of the first topics of debate in Congress was the
title by which the president should be addressed. Such
titles as "His Highness," " His Mightiness," &e., hav
ing been discussed, it was finally, and very properly
determined, that the title of "President of the United
States" should be used ; and it was accordingly used in
the answers to the inaugural address. No title could be
more dignified.

-J

394

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

was made to fill the legislature with
the declared enemies of the govern
ment, and thus to commit it, in its in
fancy, to the custody of its foes. Their
fears were quieted for the present. In
both branches of the legislature, the
federalists, an appellation at that time
distinguishing those who had supported
the constitution, formed the majority;
and it soon appeared that a new con
vention was too bold an experiment to
be applied for by the requisite number
of States.
But two States, Rhode Island and
North Carolina, still remained out of
the pale of the Union ; and a great
deal of ill-humor existed among those
who were included within it, which in
creased the necessity of circumspection
in those who administered the govern
ment. To the western parts of the conti
nent, the attention of the executive was
attracted by discontents which were dis
played with some violence, and which
originated in circumstances and in in
terests peculiar to that country.
Spain, in possession of the mouth of
the Mississippi, had refused to permit
the citizens of the United States to
follow its waters into the ocean ; and
had occasionally tolerated or interdict
ed their commerce to New Orleans, as
had been suggested by the supposed
interest or caprice of the Spanish gov
ernment, or of its representatives in
America. The eyes of the inhabitants
adjacent to the waters which emptied
into that river were turned down it,

as the only channel through which the
surplus produce of their luxuriant soil
could be conveyed to the markets of
the world. Belie vins: that the future
wealth and prosperity of their country
depended on the use of that river, they
gave some evidence of a disposition to
drop from the confederacy, if this valu
able acquisition could not otherwise be
made. This temper could not fail to be
viewed with interest by the neighboring
powers, who had been encouraged by
it, and by the imbecility of the gov
ernment, to enter into intrigues of an
alarming nature.
Previous to his departure from Mount
Vernon, Washington had received intel
ligence, too authentic to be disregarded,
of private machinations, by real or pre
tended agents both of Spain and Great
Britain, which were extremely hostile
to the peace and to the integrity of the
Union. Spain had intimated that the naviga
tion of the Mississippi could never be
conceded while the inhabitants of the
western country remained connected
with the Atlantic States, but might be
freely granted to them if they should
form an independent empire.
On the other hand, a gentleman from
Canada, whose ostensible business was
to repossess himself of some lands on
the Ohio which had been formerly
granted to him, frequently discussed
the vital importance of the navigation
of the Mississippi, and privately assured
several individuals of great influence,
that if they were disposed to assert

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED-

395

their rights, he was authorized by Lord
Dorchester, the governor of Canada, to
say, that they might rely confidently
on his assistance. With the aid it was
in his power to give, they might seize
New Orleans, fortify the Balize at the
mouth of the Mississippi, and maintain
themselves in that place against the ut
most efforts of Spain.*
The probability of failing in any at
tempt to hold the mouth of the Missis
sippi by force, and the resentments
against Great Britain which prevailed
generally throughout the western coun
try, diminished the danger to be appre
hended from any machinations of that
power ; but against those of Spain, the
same security did not exist.
In contemplating the situation of the
United States in their relations not
purely domestic, the object demanding
most immediate consideration was the
hostility of several tribes of Indians.
The military strength of the nations
who inhabited the country between
the lakes, the Mississippi, and the Ohio
was computed at five thousand men,
of whom about fifteen hundred were
at open war with the United States.
Treaties had been concluded with the
residue ; but the warlike disposition of
the Indians, and the provocations they
had received, furnished reasons for ap
prehending that these treaties would
soon be broken.
In the South, the Creeks, who could
bring into the field six thousand fight-
° Marshall.

ing men, were at war with Georgia. In
the mind of their leader, M'Gillivray,
the son of a white man, some irritation
had been produced by the confiscation
of the lands of his father, who had re
sided in that State ; and several other
refugees, whose property had also been
confiscated, contributed still further to
exasperate the nation. But the imme
diate point in contest between them
was a tract of land on the Oconee,
which the State of Georgia claimed
under a purchase, the validity of which
was denied by the Indians.
The regular force of the United
States was less than six hundred men.
Not only the policy of accommoda
ting differences by negotiation which
the government was in no condition to
terminate by the sword, but a real re
spect for the rights of the natives, and
a regard for the claims of justice and
humanity, disposed Washington to en
deavor, in the first instance, to remove
every cause of quarrel by a treaty ; and
his message to Congress on this sub
ject evidenced his preference of pacific
measures. Possessing many valuable articles of
commerce for which the best market
was often found on the coast of the
Mediterranean, struggling to export
them in their own bottoms, and unable
to afford a single gun for their protec
tion, the Americans could not view
with unconcern the dispositions which
were manifested towards them by the
Barbary powers. A treaty had been
formed with the emperor of Morocco ;

396

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

but from Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli
peace had not been purchased ; and
those regencies considered all as en
emies to whom they had not sold their
friendship. The unprotected vessels of
America presented a tempting object to
their rapacity ; and their hostility was
the more terrible, because by their
public law prisoners became slaves.
The United States were at peace
with all the powers of Europe ; but
controversies of a delicate nature ex
isted with some of them, the adjustment
of which required a degree of modera
tion and firmness which there was rea
son to fear might not, in every instance,
be exhibited.
The apprehensions with which Spain
had contemplated the future strength
of the United States, and the conse
quent disposition to restrict them to
narrow limits, have been already no
ticed. After the conclusion of the war,
the attempt to form a treaty with that
power had been repeated ; but no ad
vance towards an agreement on the
points of difference between the two
governments had been made.
Circumstances attending the points of
difference with Great Britain were still
more serious ; because, in their pro
gress, a temper unfavorable to accom
modation had been uniformly displayed.
The resentments produced by the
various calamities war had occasioned,
were not terminated with their cause.
The idea that Great Britain was the
natural enemy of America, had become
habitual. Believing it impossible for

that nation to have relinquished its
views of conquest, many found it diffi
cult to bury their animosities, and to
act upon the sentiment contained in the
Declaration of Independence, " to hold
them as the rest of mankind, enemies in
war, in peace friends." In addition to
the complaints respecting the violation
of the treaty of peace, events were con
tinually supplying this temper with
fresh aliment. The disinclination which
the cabinet of London had discovered
to a commercial treaty with the United
States, was not attributed exclusively to
the cause which had been assigned for
it. It was in part ascribed to that jeal
ousy with which Britain was supposed
to view the growing trade of America.
The general restrictions on commerce
by which every maritime power sought
to promote its own navigation, and that
part of the European system in particu
lar by which each aimed at a monopoly
of the trade of its colonies, were felt
with peculiar keenness when enforced
by England. In this suspicious temper
almost every unfavorable event which
occurred was traced up to British hos
tility. That an attempt to form a commer
cial treaty with Portugal had failed,
was attributed to the influence of the
cabinet of London ; and to the machi
nations of the same power were also as
cribed the danger from the corsairs of
Barbary, and the bloody incursions of
the Indians. The resentment excited
by these causes was felt by a large pro
portion of the American people ; and

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

397

the expression of it was common and
public. That correspondent disposi
tions existed in England is by no means
improbable, and the necessary effect of
this temper was to increase the difficul
ty of adjusting the differences between
the two nations.
With France the most perfect har
mony subsisted. Those attachments
which originated in the signal services
received from the king of France
during the war of the Revolution,
had sustained no diminution. Yet,
from causes which it was found difficult
to counteract, the commercial inter
course between the two nations was not
so extensive as had been expected. It
was the interest, and, of consequence,
the policy of France, to avail herself of
the misunderstandings between the
United States and Great Britain, in
order to obtain such regulations as
might gradually divert the increasing
trade of the American continent from
those channels in which it had been ac
customed to flow ; and a disposition
was felt throughout the United States
to co-operate with her in enabling her
merchants, by legislative encourage
ments, to rival those of Britain in the
American market.
A great revolution had commenced
in that country, the first stage of which
was completed by limiting the powers of
the monarch, and by the establishment
of a popular assembly. In no part of
the globe was this revolution hailed
with more joy than in America. The
influence it would have on the affairs of
Vol. II.— 51

the world was not then distinctly fore
seen ; and the philanthropist, without
becoming a political partisan, rejoiced
in the event. On this subject, there
fore, but one sentiment existed.
The relations of the United States
with the other powers of Europe, did
not require particular attention. Their
dispositions were rather friendly than
otherwise ; and an inclination was gen
erally manifested to participate in the
advantages which the erection of an
independent empire on the western
shores of the Atlantic held forth to the
commercial world.
By the ministers of foreign powers in
America, it would readily be supposed
that the first steps taken by the new
government would not only be indica
tive of its present system, but would
probably affect its foreign relations per
manently, and that the influence of the
president would be felt in the legisla
ture. Scarcely was the exercise of his
executive functions commenced, when
Washington received an application
from the Count de Moustiers, the min
ister of France, requesting a private
conference. On being told that the de
partment of foreign affairs was the
channel through which all official busi
ness should pass, the count replied, that
the interview he requested was not for
the purpose of actual business, but
rather as preparatory to its future
transaction. The next day, at one in the after
noon, was named for the interview.
The count commenced the conversa-

398

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI

tion with declarations of his personal
regard for America, the manifestations
of which, he said, had been early and
uniform. His nation, too, was well dis
posed to be upon terms of amity with
the United States ; but at his public re
ception, there were occurrences which
he thought indicative of coolness in the
secretary of foreign affairs, who had, he
feared, while in Europe, imbibed preju
dices, not only against Spain, but
against France also. If this conjecture
should be right, the present head of
that department could not be an agree
able organ of intercourse with the presi
dent. He then took a view of the
modern usages of European courts,
which, he said, favored the practice he
recommended, of permitting foreign
ministers to make their communications
directly to the chief of the executive.
" He then presented a letter," says
Washington in his private journal,
" which he termed confidential, and to
be considered as addressed to me in my
private character, which was too strong
ly marked with an intention, as well as
a wish, to have no person between the
minister and president, in the transac
tion of business between the two na
tions." In reply to these observations, Wash
ington assured him that, judging from
his own feelings, and from the public
sentiment, there existed in America a
reciprocal disposition to be on the best
terms with France. That whatever
former difficulties might have occurred,
he was persuaded the secretary of for

eign affairs had offered no intentional
disrespect, either to the minister or to
his nation. Without undertaking to
know the private opinions of Mr. Jay,
he would declare that he had never
heard that officer express, directly or
indirectly, any sentiment unfavorable
to either.
Reason and usage, he added, must di
rect the mode of treating national and
official business. If rules had been es
tablished, they must be conformed to.
If they were yet to be framed, it was
hoped that they would be convenient
and proper. So far as ease could be
made to comport with regularity and
with necessary forms, it ought to be
consulted ; but custom, and the dignity
of office, were not to be disregarded.
The conversation continued upwards of
an hour, but no change was made in
the resolution of the president.
During its first session, the national
legislature was principally occupied in
providing revenues for the long-ex
hausted treasury, in establishing a judi
ciary, in organizing the executive de
partments in detail, and in framing
amendments to the constitution, agree
ably to the suggestion of the president.
The members immediately entered upon
the exercise of those powers so long re
fused under the Articles of Confedera
tion. They imposed a tonnage duty, as
well as duties on various imported arti
cles, steadily keeping in sight, however,
the navigating interest of the country
which had hitherto been almost wholly
at the mercy of other nations. Higher

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

399

tonnage duties were imposed on foreign
than on American bottoms, and goods
imported in vessels belonging to citizens
of the United States paid ten per cent.
less duty than the same goods brought
in those owned by foreigners. These
discriminating duties were intended to
counteract the commercial regulations
of foreign nations, and to encourage
American shipping. To aid in the
management of the affairs of govern
ment, three executive departments were
established, styled Departments of
War, Foreign Affairs, and of the Treas
ury, with a secretary at the head of
each. The heads of these departments, in
addition to the duties specially assigned
them, were intended to constitute a
council, to be consulted by the presi
dent whenever he thought proper ; and
the executive was authorized by the
constitution to require the opinion, in
writing, of the principal officers in the
executive departments, on subjects re
lating to the duties of their offices. In
framing the acts constituting these
offices, and defining their duties, it be
came an important subject of inquiry in
what manner, or by whom, these im
portant officers could be removed from
office. This was a question as new as
it was momentous, and was applicable
to all officers of executive appointment.
In the long and learned debates on the
subject in Congress, there arose a very
animated opposition to such a construc
tion of the constitution as to give this
power to any one individual. What

ever confidence might be placed in the
chief magistrate then at the head of the
government, equal confidence could not
be expected in his successors ; and it
was contended that a concurrence of
the Senate was as necessary and proper
in the removal of a person from office
as in his appointment. Some of the
members of the House of Representa
tives were of opinion that they could
not be removed without impeachment.
The principal question, however, on
which Congress was divided, was.
whether they were removable by the
president alone, or by the president
in concurrence with the Senate. A ma
jority, however, in both houses, decided
that this power was in the president
alone. In the House, the majority iu
favor of this construction was twelve.
This decision of a great constitutional
question has been acquiesced in, and in
its consequences has been of greater im
portance than almost any other since
the establishment of the new govern
ment. From the manner in which this
power has been exercised, it has given
a tone and character to the executive
branch of the government not contem
plated, it is believed, by the framers of
the constitution, or by those who con
stituted the first Congress under it. It
has greatly increased the influence and
patronage of the president, and in no
small degree made him the centre
around which the other branches of the
government revolve.* ° Pitkin.

400

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

In a free country, where the private
citizen has both the right and the incli
nation to take an interest in the public
concerns, it is natural that political par
ties and civil contentions should arise.
These will be more or less violent, an
gry, and hostile, according as a sense of
common security from external clangers
leaves no cause for united action, and
little anxiety for the common peace.
A natural consequence of this strife of
parties is the exercise of the passions — •
pride, interest, vanity, resentment, grat
itude — each contributing its share in ir
ritating and prolonging the controversy.
In the beginning of the Revolution, the
people of the United States divided
themselves into the two great classes of
Whigs and Tories ; then they again
separated upon the question of absolute
independence. Other questions arose
during the war, relative to its conduct,
and the qualifications of the leaders of
the army. Independence achieved, the
minds of the people were agitated
about the nature of the government,
which all saw to be necessary for their
own happiness, and for the better ena
bling them to prosecute with foreign
countries peaceful negotiations or the
operations of war. Many saw, in too
close a union, dangers as great and con
sequences as distasteful as in their en
tire separation. It was believed by
many, that the extent of the country,
the great diversity of character, habits,
and pursuits among the several States,
presented insuperable obstacles to a
closer union than that afforded by the

Articles of Confederation. Some were
almost exclusively commercial, others
agricultural ; some were disposed to en
gage in manufacturing pursuits; some
had domestic slavery firmly connected
with their domestic relations, and were
disposed to look favorably on the ex
tension of the institution ; others re
garded involuntary servitude as a curse,
and desired its abolition.
It was not to be wondered at, that
with such points of diversity, many
should suppose that a single govern
ment could not administer the affairs of
all, except by a greater delegation of
power than would be submitted to by
the Ameiican people. While some
looked wholly to these apprehended
consequences of a close union and a
single government, others chiefly re
garded the dangers arising from dis
union, domestic dissensions, and even
war. One party dreaded consolida
tion ; the other, anarchy and separation.
Each saw, in the object of its dread,
the destruction of good government,
though one party looked too exclusively
to its characteristic of order, the other
to that of civil liberty. These were the
thoughts of the people, widely differ
ing, but all equally honest. But the
politicians addressed themselves to these
prejudices, often with unworthy motives.
Local prejudices, self-interest, fears, in
some cases from an anticipated loss of
consequence, in the event of a transfer
of sovereignty from the individual
States to the general government, all
combined to make many violent in

Chap. II.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

401

their expressions of opposition to the
plan. Apprehensions of violence and
disorder, and fears from individual
popularity in a circumscribed sphere,
led others to desire consolidation. With
these, ranked others who were fond of
the pomp and show of authority which
would attend a powerful government ;
and still others, who, having claims
upon the country, supposed that they
would have much stronger hopes of
being paid themselves, and of seeing
the debts due abroad liquidated, if a
system of government were established
which could be certain to raise a reve
nue for these objects. On the formation
of the constitution, the community set
tled down into two great parties, fed
eralists and anti-federalists, or demo
crats ; the first believing that the most
imminent danger to our peace and
prosperity was in disunion ; and that
popular jealousy, always active, would
withhold the power which was essential
to good order and national safety ; the
other party believing that the danger
most to be apprehended was in too
close a union, and that their most
powerful opponents wished a consoli
dated and even a monarchical govern
ment. There were many who had been ac
customed to reflect upon government
and political relations previously to the
war of independence, when the consti
tution of Great Britain being by far
the best that had ever existed, they
may naturally be supposed to have
conceived for it a degree of homage

and respect which it could not now in
spire. The speculations on political
rights, to which the contest with Great
Britain and the debates on the question
of independence gave rise, greatly fa
vored the doctrines of political equality
and the hatred of power, in any form
that could control the public will. There
are, in the heart of every man, princi
ples which readily prepare him for
republican doctrines, and after a few
years, some of the speculative politi
cians began to think that the free,
simple, and equal government which
was suited to the tastes and habits of
our people, was also the best in theory.
The great body of the people were
partial to the form of government to
which they had been accustomed, and
wished for none other, though the lead
ing statesmen differed upon this point.
Some preferred the republican form in
theory, and believed that no other
would be tolerated in practice ; and
others regretted that they were obliged
to yield so far to popular prejudice as
to forego the form they deemed best,
but determined to avail themselves of
every opportunity of improving the
existing government into that form.
Nor were they without hopes that by
siding with the general government in
every question of power between that
and the separate States, and with the
executive in all questions between that
and the legislature, and by continually
increasing the patronage of the execu
tive by means of an army, a navy,
and the multiplication of civil officers,

402

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

they would ultimately obtain their ob
ject* It was in the midst of this society, so
agitated and disturbed, that Washing
ton, without ambition, without any false
show, from a sense of duty rather than
inclination, and rather trusting in truth
than confident of success, undertook
actually to found the government de
creed by the new-born constitution. He
rose to his high office invested with an
immense influence, which was acknowl
edged and received even by his enemies.
Washington's natural inclination, says
Guizot,f was rather to a democratic
social state than to any other. Of a
mind just rather than expansive, of a
temper wise and calm, full of dig
nity, but free from all selfish and arro
gant pretensions, — coveting rather re
spect than power, — the impartiality
of democratic principles, and the sim
plicity of democratic manners, far from.
offending or annoying him, suited his
tastes and satisfied his judgment. He
did not trouble himself with inquiring
whether more elaborate combinations,
a division into ranks, privileges, and
artificial barriers, were necessary to the
preservation of society. He lived tran
quilly in the midst of an equal and
sovereign people, finding its authority
to be lawful and submitting to it with
out effort.
But when the question was one of
political and not social order, when the

0 Tucker's Life of Jefferson.
f Essay on the Character and Influence of Washington.

discussion turned upon the organization
of the government, he was strongly
federal, opposed to local and popular
pretensions, and the declared advocate
of the unity and force of the central
power. He placed himself under this stand
ard, and did so to insure its triumph.
But still, his elevation was not the
victory of a party, and awakened in no
one either exultation or regret. In the
eyes, not only of the public, but of his
enemies, he was not included in any
party, and was above them all : " the
only man in the United States," said
Jefferson, "who possessed the confidence
of all ; — * * * there was no other one
who was considered as any thing more
than a party leader."
It was his constant effort to maintain
this honorable privilege. " It is really
my wish to have my mind, and my ac
tions, which are the result of reflection, as
free and independent as the air. * * *
If it should be my inevitable fate to
administer the government, I will go to
chair under no pre-engagement of any
kind or nature whatsoever. * * * Should
any thing tending to give me anxiety
present itself in this or any other pub
lication, I shall never undertake the
painful task of recrimination, nor do I
know that I should ever enter upon my
justification. * * * All else is but food
for declamation. * * * Men's minds are
as various as their faces ; aud, where
the motives of their actions are pure,
the operations of the former are no
more to be imputed to them as a crime,

Chap, n.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

403

than the appearance of the latter. * * *
Differences in political opinions are as
unavoidable, as, to a certain point, they
may, perhaps, be necessary."* A stran
ger also to all personal disputes, to the
passions and prejudices of his friends,
as well as his enemies, the purpose of
his whole policy was to maintain this
position, and to this policy he gave the
true name, "the just medium !"
It is much, continues the great states
man of France, to have the wish to
preserve a just medium ; but the wish,
though accompanied with firmness and
ability, is not always enough to secure
it. Washington succeeded in this as
much by the natural turn of his mind
and character, as by making it his pe
culiar aim ; he was, indeed, really of no
party, and his country, in esteeming
him so, did no more than pay homage
to truth.
A man of experience and a man of
action, he had an admirable wisdom,
and made no pretension to systematic
theories. He took no side beforehand ;
he made no show of the principles that
were to govern him. Thus, there was
nothing like a logical harshness in his
conduct, no committal of self-love, no
struggle of rival talent. When he ob
tained the victory, his success was not
to his adversaries either a stake lost or
a sweeping sentence of condemnation.
It was not on the ground of the superi
ority of his own mind that he triumph
ed, but on the ground of the nature of
* Washington's Writings, vols. ix. x.

things and of the inevitable necessity
that accompanied them. Still, his suc
cess was not an event without a moral
character, the simple result of skill,
strength, or fortune. Uninfluenced by
any theory, he had faith in truth, and
adopted it as the guide of his conduct.
He did not pursue the victory of one
opinion against the partisans of another;
neither did he act from interest in the
event alone, or merely for success. He
did nothing which he did not think to
be reasonable and just ; so that his con
duct, which had no systematic character
that might be humbling to his adversa
ries, had still a moral character, which
commanded respect.
Men had, moreover, the most thor
ough conviction of his disinterestedness ;
that great light to which men so will
ingly trust their fate ; that vast power,
which draws after it their hearts, while
at the same time it gives them confi
dence that their interests will not be
surrendered, either as a sacrifice or as
instruments to selfishness and ambition.
A striking proof of his impartiality was
afforded in the choice of the persons
who were to form his cabinet under the
law for the formation of the executive
departments. The government being completely
organized, and a system of revenue es
tablished, the important duty of filling
the offices which had been created, re
mained to be performed. In the execu
tion of this delicate trust, the purest
virtue and the most impartial judgment
were exercised by Washington in select-

404

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

ing the best talents, and the greatest
weight of character, which the United
States could furnish. The unmingled
patriotism of the motives by which he
was actuated, receives its clearest de
monstration from a view of all his pri
vate letters on this subject; and the
success of his endeavors is attested by
the abilities and reputation which he
drew into the public service.
At the head of the department of
foreign affairs, since denominated the
department of state, he placed Jeffer
son, who had been bred to the bar, and
at an early period of life had acquired
considerable reputation for extensive
attainments in the science of politics.
He had been a distinguished member
of the second Congress, and had been
offered a diplomatic appointment, which
he had declined. Withdrawing from
the administration of continental affairs,
he had been elected governor of Vir
ginia, which office he filled for two
years. He afterwards again represented
his native State in the councils of the
Union, and in the year 1784, was ap
pointed to succeed Dr. Franklin at the
court of Versailles. In that station, he
had acquitted himself much to the pub
lic satisfaction. His Notes on Virginia,
which were read with applause, were
believed to evince the soundness of his
political opinions ; and the Declaration
of Independence was universally as
cribed to his pen. He had long been
placed by America amongst the most
eminent of her citizens, and had long
been classed by the president with

those who were most capable of serving
the nation. Having lately obtained
permission to return for a short time to
the United States, he was, while on his
passage, nominated to this important
office ; and, on his arrival in Virginia,
found a letter from the president, giv
ing him the option of becoming the
secretary of foreign affairs, or of retain
ing his station at the court of Versailles.
He appears rather to have inclined to
continue in his foreign appointment ;
and, in changing his situation, to have
consulted the wishes of the first magis
trate more than the preference of his
own mind.*
The task of restoring public credit,
of drawing order and arrangement from
the chaotic confusion in which the finan
ces of America were involved, and of
devising means which should render the
revenue productive, and commensurate
with the demand, in a manner least
burdensome to the people, was justly
classed among the most arduous of the
duties which devolved on the new gov
ernment. In discharging it, much aid
was expected from the head of the
treasury. This important, and, at that
time, intricate department, was assigned
to Colonel Hamilton.
This gentleman was a native of the
island of St. Croix, and at a very early
period of life had been placed, by his
friends, in New York. Possessing an
ardent temper, he caught fire from the
concussions of the moment, and, with
« Marshall.

Chap. II.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

405

all the enthusiasm of youth, engaged
first his pen, and afterwards his sword,
in the stern contest between the Ameri
can colonies and their parent State.
Among the first troops raised by New
York was a corps of artillery, in which
he was appointed a captain. Soon after
the war was transferred to the Hudson,
his superior endowments recommended
him to the attention of the commander-
in-chief, into whose family, before com
pleting his twenty-first year, he was in
vited to enter. Equally brave and
intelligent, he continued, in this situa
tion, to display a degree of firmness and
capacity which commanded the confi
dence and esteem of his general, and of
the principal officers in the army.
After the capitulation at Yorktown,
the war languished throughout the
American continent, and the proba
bility that its termination was approach
ing daily increased.
The critical circumstances of the ex
isting government rendered the events
of the civil, more interesting than those
of the military department; and Colonel
Hamilton accepted a seat in the Con
gress of the United States. In all the
important acts of the day, he performed
a conspicuous part ; and was greatly
distinguished among those distinguished
men whom the crisis had attracted to
the councils of their country. He had
afterwards been active in promoting
those measures which led to the con
vention at Philadelphia, of which he
was a member, and had greatly con
tributed to the adoption of the consti-
Vol. IT.— 52

tution by the State of New York. In
the pre-eminent part he had performed,
both in the military and civil transac
tions of his country, he had acquired a
great degree of well-merited fame ; and
the frankness of his manners, the open
ness of his temper, the warmth of his
feelings, and the sincerity of his heart,
had secured him many valuable friends.
To talents equally splendid and use
ful, he united a patient industry, not
always the companion of genius, which
fitted him, in a peculiar manner, for
subduing the difficulties to be encoun
tered by the man who should be placed
at the head of the American finances.*
The department of war was already
filled by General Knox, and he was
again nominated to it.
Throughout the contest of the Revo
lution, this officer had continued at the
head of the American artillery, and
from being the colonel of a regiment,
had been promoted to the rank of a
major-general. In this important sta
tion, he had preserved a high military
character ; and, on the resignation of
General Lincoln, had been appointed
secretary of war. To his past services,
and to unquestionable integrity, he was
admitted to unite a sound understand
ing ; and the public judgment, as well
as that of the chief magistrate, pro
nounced him in all respects competent
to the station he filled.
The office of attorney-general was
filled by Edmund Randolph. To a
* Marshall.

406

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

distinguished reputation in the line of
his profession, this gentleman added a
considerable degree of political emi
nence. After having been for several
years the attorney-general of Virginia,
he had been elected its governor. While
in this office, he was chosen a member
of the convention which framed the
constitution, and was also elected to
that which was called by the State for
its adoption or rejection. After having
served at the head of the executive the
term permitted by the constitution of
the State, he entered into its legislature,
where he preserved a great share of in
fluence. Such was the first cabinet council of
the president. In its composition, pub
lic opinion as well as intrinsic worth
had been consulted, and a high degree
of character had been combined with
real talent.
In the selection of persons for high
judicial offices, the president was guided
by the same principles. At the head
of this department he placed John
Jay. From the commencement of the Revo
lution, this gentleman had filled a large
space in the public mind. Remaining,
without intermission, in the service of
his country, he had passed through a
succession of high offices, and, in all of
them, had merited the approbation of
his fellow-citizens. To his pen, while
in Congress, America was indebted for
some of those masterly addresses which
reflected most honor upon the govern
ment ; and to his firmness and penetra

tion was to be ascribed, iu no incon
siderable degree, the happy issue of
those intricate negotiations which were
conducted, towards the close of the war,
at Madrid and at Paris. On returning
to the United States, he had been ap
pointed secretary of foreign affairs, in
which station he had conducted himself
with his accustomed ability. A sound
judgment improved by extensive read
ing and great knowledge of public
affairs, unyielding firmness, and inflexi
ble integrity, were qualities of which
Mr. Jay had given frequent and signal
proofs. Although for some years with
drawn from that profession to which he
was bred, the acquisitions of his early
life had not been lost; and the subjects
on which his mind had been exercised,
were not entirely foreign from those
which would, in the first instance, em
ploy the courts in which he was to
preside. John Rutledge of South Carolina,
James Wilson of Pennsylvania, William
Cushing of Massachusetts, Robert Har
rison of Maryland, and John Blair of
Virginia, were nominated as associate
justices. Some of these gentlemen had
filled the highest law offices in their re
spective States ; and all of them had
received distinguished marks of the
public confidence.
In the systems which had been adopt
ed by the several States, offices corre
sponding to those created by the reve
nue laws of Congress had been already
established. Uninfluenced by consider
ations of personal regard, Washington

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Chap. II.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

407

could not be induced to change men
whom he found in place, if worthy of
being employed; and where the man
who had filled such office in the former
state of things was unexceptionable in
his conduct and character, he was uni
formly reappointed. In deciding be
tween competitors for vacant offices,
the law he prescribed for his govern
ment was, to regard the fitness of can
didates for the duties they would be
required to discharge ; and, where an
equality in this respect existed, former
merits and sufferings in the public ser
vice gave claims to preference which
could not be overlooked.
In the legislative, as well as in the
executive and judicial departments,
great respectability of character was
also associated with an eminent degree
of talents. The constitutional prohibi
tion to appoint any member of the legis
lature to an office created during the
time for which he had been elected, did
not exclude men of the most distin
guished abilities from the first Congress.
Impelled by an anxious solicitude re
specting the first measures of the gov
ernment, its zealous friends had pressed
into its service ; and, in both branches
of the legislature, men were found who
possessed the fairest claims to the pub
lic confidence.
From the duties attached to his office,
the vice-president of the United States
and president of the Senate, though not
a member of the legislature, was classed,
in the public mind, with that depart
ment not less than with the executive.

Elected by the whole people of America
in common with the president, he could
not fail to be taken from the most dis-
tincuished citizens, and to add to the
dignity of the body over which he
presided. John Adams was one of the earliest
and most ardent patriots of the Revolu
tion. Bred to the bar, he had neces
sarily studied the constitution of his
country, and was among the most de
termined assertors of its rights. Active
in guiding that high spirit which ani
mated all New England, he became a
member of the Congress of 1774, and
was among the first who dared to avow
sentiments in favor of independence. In
that body he soon attained considerable
eminence ; and, at an early stage of the
war, was chosen one of the commis
sioners to whom the interests of the
United States in Europe were confided.
In his diplomatic character, he had con
tributed greatly to those measures which
drew Holland into the war ; had nego
tiated the treaty between the United
States and the Dutch Republic ; and
had, at critical points of time, obtained
loans of money which were of great
advantage to his country. In the ne
gotiations which terminated the war,
he had also rendered important ser
vices ; and, after the ratification of the
definitive articles of peace, had been
deputed to Great Britain for the pur
pose of effecting a commercial treaty
with that nation. The political situa
tion of America having rendered this
object unattainable, he solicited leave

408

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

to return, and arrived in the United
States soon after the adoption of the
constitution. As a statesman, John Adams had at
all times ranked high in the estimation
of his countrymen. He had improved
a sound understanding by extensive po
litical and historical reading ; and per
haps no American had reflected more
profoundly on the subject of govern
ment. The exalted opinion he enter
tained of his own country was flattering
to his fellow-citizens ; and the purity of
his mind, the unblemished integrity of
a life spent in the public service, had
gained him their confidence.
A government, supported in all its
departments by so much character and
talent, at the head of which was placed
a man whose capacity was undoubted,
whose life had been one great and con
tinued lesson of disinterested patriotism,
and for whom almost every bosom
glowed with an attachment bordering
on enthusiasm, could not fail to make a
rapid progress in conciliating the affec
tion of the people. That all hostility
to the constitution should subside, that
public measures should receive univer
sal approbation, that no particular dis
gusts and individual irritations should
be excited, were expectations which
could not reasonably be indulged. Ex
aggerated accounts were indeed occa
sionally circulated of the pomp and
splendor which were affected by certain
high officers, of the monarchical tenden
cies of particular institutions, and of
the dispositions which prevailed to in

crease the powers of the executive.
That the doors of the Senate were
closed, and that a disposition had been
manifested by that body to distinguish
the president of the United States by a
title, gave considerable umbrage, and
were represented as evincing inclina
tions in that branch of the legislature
unfriendly to republicanism. The ex
orbitance of salaries was also a subject
of some declamation ; and the equality
of commercial privileges with which for
eign bottoms entered American ports,
was not free from objection. But the
apprehensions of danger to liberty from
the new system, which had been im
pressed on the minds of well-meaning
men, were visibly wearing off; the pop
ularity of the administration was com
municating itself to the government ;
and the materials with which the dis
contented were furnished, could not yet
be efficaciously employed.
Towards the close of the session, a re
port on a petitiou which had been pre
sented at an early period by the credit
ors of the public residing in the State
of Pennsylvania, was taken up in the
House of Representatives. Though
many considerations rendered a post
ponement of this interesting subject ne
cessary, two resolutions were passed :
the one, " declaring that the House con
sidered an adequate provision for the
support of the public credit, as a matter
of high importance to the national hon
or and prosperity ;" and the other, di
recting " the secretary of the treasury
to prepare a plan for that purpose, and

Chap, n.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

409

to report the same to the House at its
next meeting."
On the 29th of September, Congress
adjourned to the first Monday in the
succeeding January.
Throughout the whole of this labori
ous and important session, perfect har
mony subsisted between the executive
and the legislature ; and no circum
stance occurred which threatened to
impair it. The modes of communica
tion between the departments of gov
ernment were adjusted in a satisfactory
manner, and arrangements were made
on some of those delicate points in
which the Senate participate of execu
tive power.
Washington's own views of the pro
ceedings of Congress, are expressed in
the following extract from a letter to a
friend :
" That Congress does not proceed
with all that dispatch which people at
a distance expect, and which, were they
to hurry business, they possibly might,
is not to be denied. That measures
have been agitated which are not
pleasing to Virginia — and others, pleas
ing perhaps to her, but not to some
other States — is equally unquestionable.
Can it well be otherwise in a country
so extensive, so diversified in its inter
ests ? And will not these different in
terests naturally produce — in an assem
bly of representatives who are to legis
late for, and to assimilate and reconcile
them to, the general welfare — long,
warm, and animated debates ? Most
assuredly they will; and if there was

the same propensity in mankind for in
vestigating the motives, as there is for
censuring the conduct of public charac
ters, it would be found that the censure
so freely bestowed is oftentimes unmer
ited and uncharitable. For instance,
the condemnation of Congress for sit
ting only four hours in the day. The
fact is, by the established rules of the
House of Representatives, no committee
can sit whilst the House is sitting ; and
this is, and has been for a considerable
time, from ten o'clock in the forenoon
until three, often later, in the after
noon ; before and after which the busi
ness is going on in committees. If this
application is not as much as most con
stitutions are equal to, I am mistaken.
"Many other things, which undergo
malignant constructions, would be found,
upon a candid examination, to wear a
better face than is given to them. The
misfortune is, that the enemies to the
government, always more active than
its friends, and always upon the watch
to give it a stroke, neglect no opportu
nity to aim one. If they tell truth, it
is not the whole truth, by which means
one side only of the picture is exhibit
ed ; whereas, if both sides were seen, it
might, and probably would, assume a
different form in the opinion of just and
candid men, who are disposed to meas
ure matters by a continental scale.
" I do not mean, however, from what
I have here said, to justify the conduct
of Congress in all its movements ; for
some of these movements, in my opin
ion, have been injudicious, and others

410

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

unseasonable ; whilst the questions of
assumption, residence, and other mat
ters, have been agitated with a warmth
and intemperance, with prolixity and
threats, which, it is to be feared, have
lessened the dignity of that body, and
decreased that respect which was once
entertained for it. And this misfortune
is increased by many members, even
among those who wish well to the gov
ernment, ascribing, in letters to their
respective States, when they are de
feated in a favorite measure, the worst
motives for the conduct of their oppo
nents ; who, viewing matters through
another medium, may and do retort in
their turn, by which means jealousies
and distrusts are spread most impoliti-
cally far and wide, and will, it is to be
feared, have a most unhappy tendency
to injure our public affairs, which, if
wisely managed, might make us, as we
are now by Europeans thought to be,
the happiest people upon earth."
Anxious to visit New England, to ob
serve in person the condition of the
country and the dispositions of the
people towards the government and its
measures, the president was disposed to
avail himself of the short respite from
official cares afforded by the recess of
Congress, to make a tour through the
Eastern States. His resolution being
taken, and the executive business which
required his immediate personal attend
ance being dispatched, he commenced
his tour on the 15th of October, and,
passing through Connecticut and Mas
sachusetts, as far as Portsmouth in New

Hampshire, returned by a different
route to New York, where he arrived
ou the 13th of November.
With this visit the president had
much reason to be satisfied. To con
template the theatre on which many
interesting military scenes had been ex
hibited, and to review the ground on
which his first campaign as commander-
in-chief of the American army had been
made, were sources of rational delight.
To observe the progress of society, the
improvements in agriculture, commerce,
and manufactures, and the temper, cir
cumstances, and dispositions of the peo
ple, could not fail to be grateful to an
intelligent mind, and an employment in
all respects worthy of the chief magis
trate of the nation. The reappearance
of their general, in the high station he
now filled, brought back to recollection
the perilous transactions of the war ;
and the reception universally given to
him, attested the unabated love which
was felt for his person and character,
and indicated unequivocally the grow
ing populai'ity, at least in that part of
the Union, of the government he ad
ministered. The sincerity and warmth with which
he reciprocated the affection expressed
for his person in the addresses pre
sented to him, was well calculated to
preserve the sentiments which were
generally diffused. "I rejoice with
you, my fellow-citizens," said he in an
swer to an address from the inhabitants
of Boston, " in every circumstance that
declares your prosperity ; and I do so

CHAr. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

411

most cordially, because you have well
deserved to be happy.
" Your love of liberty, your respect
for the law, your habits of industry,
and your practice of the moral and re
ligious obligations, are the strongest
claims to national and individual happi
ness. And they will, I trust, be firmly
and lastingly established."
But the interchange of sentiments
with the companions of his military toils
and glory will excite most interest, be
cause on both sides the expressions
were dictated by the purest and most
delicious feelings of the human heart.
From the Cincinnati of Massachusetts
he received the following address :
" Amidst the various gratulations
which your arrival in this metropolis
has occasioned, permit us, the members
of the Society of the Cincinnati in this
commonwealth, most respectfully to as
sure you of the ardor of esteem and af
fection you have so indelibly fixed in
our hearts, as our glorious leader in
war, and illustrious example in peace.
" After the solemn and endearing
farewell on the banks of the Hudson,
which our anxiety presaged as final,
most peculiarly pleasing is the present
unexpected meeting. On this occasion
we cannot avoid the recollection of the
various scenes of toil and danger
through which you conducted us ; and
while we contemplate various trying
periods of the war, and the triumphs of
peace, we rejoice to behold you, in
duced by the unanimous voice of your
country, entering upon other trials and

other services alike important, and, in
some points of viewr, equally hazardous.
For the completion of the great pur
poses which a grateful country has as
signed you, long, very long, may your
invaluable life be preserved. And as
the admiring world, while considering
you as a soldier, have long wanted a
comparison, may your virtue and talents
as a statesman leave them without a
parallel. " It is not in words to express an at
tachment founded like ours. We can
only say that, when soldiers, our great
est pride was a promptitude of obedi
ence to your orders ; as citizens, our
supreme ambition is, to maintain the
character of firm supporters of that no
ble fabric of federal government over
which you preside.
" As members of the Society of the
Cincinnati, it will be our endeavor to
cherish those sacred principles of char
ity and fraternal attachment which our
institution inculcates. And while our
conduct is thus regulated, we can never
want the patronage of the first of pa
triots and the best of men."
To this address the following answer
was returned :
" In reciprocating with gratitude and
sincerity the multiplied and affecting
gratulations of my fellow-citizens of this
commonwealth, they will all of them
with justice allow me to say, that none
can be dearer to me than the affection
ate assurances which you have ex
pressed. Dear, indeed, is the occasion
which restores an intercourse with my

412

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

faithful associates in prosperous and ad
verse 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 con
fessed her obligations. Be mine the
grateful task to add 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.
"Regulating your conduct by those
principles which have heretofore gov
erned your actions as men, soldiers, and
citizens, you will repeat the obligations
conferred on your country, and you will
transmit to posterity an example that
must command their admiration and
grateful praise. Long may you con
tinue to enjoy the endearments of fra
ternal attachments, and the heartfelt
happiness of reflecting that you have
faithfully clone your duty.
" While I am permitted to possess
the consciousness of this worth, which
has long bound me to you by every tie
of affection and esteem, I will continue
to be your sincere and faithful friend."
After Washington's return to New
York from his tour to the North and
East, Mrs. Washington expressed, in the
following letter, the gratification and
benefit he had derived from his journey.
It also presents a delightful view of her
feelings and character.
New York, December 26th, 1789.
" My deak Madam : — Your very
friendly letter, of the 27th of last

month, has afforded me much more sat
isfaction than all the formal compli
ments and empty ceremonies of mere
etiquette could possibly have done. I
am not apt to forget the feelings that
have been inspired by my former soci
ety with good acquaintances, nor to be
insensible to their expressions of grati
tude to the president of the United
States ; for you know me well enough
to do me the justice to believe that I
am only fond of what comes from the
heart. Under a conviction that the
demonstrations of respect and affection
which have been made to the president
originate from that source, I cannot de
ny that I have taken some interest and
pleasure in them. The difficulties which
presented themselves to view upon his
first entering upon the presidency, seem
thus to be, in some measure, surmount
ed. It is owing to this kindness of our
numerous 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 of my age. But
I had long since placed all the pros
pects of my future worldly happiness in
the still enjoyments of the fireside at
Mount Vernon.
"I little thought, when the war was
finished, that any circumstances could
possibly have happened which would
call the general into public life again.
I had anticipated that, from that mo
ment, we should have been left to grow
old, in solitude and tranquillity, to-

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

413

gether. That was, my dear madam,
the first and clearest wish of my heart ;
but in that I have been disappointed.
I will not, however, contemplate with
too much regret disappointments that
were inevitable. Though the general's
feelings and my own were perfectly in
unison with respect to our predilection
for private life, yet I cannot blame him
for having acted according to his ideas
of duty in obeying the voice of his
countrv. The consciousness of having
attempted to do all the good in his
power, and the pleasure of finding his
fellow-citizens so well satisfied with the
disinterestedness of his conduct, will
doubtless be some compensation for the
great sacrifices which I know he has
made. Indeed, in his journey from
Mount Vernon to this place, in his late
tour through the Eastern States, by
every public and by every private in
formation which has come to him, I am
persuaded that he has experienced
nothing to make him repent his having
acted from what he conceived to be,
alone, a sense of indispensable duty.
On the contrary, all his sensibility has
been awakened in receiving such re
peated and unequivocal proofs of sin
cere regards from all his countrymen.
" With respect to myself, I sometimes
think the arrangement is not quite as it
ought to have been ; that I, who had
much rather be at home, should occupy
a place with which a great many young
er and gayer women would be prodig
iously pleased. As my grandchildren
and domestic connections make up a
Vol. II.— 53

great portion of the felicity which I
looked for in this world, I shall hard
ly be able to find any substitute that
would indemnify me for the loss of a
part of such endearing society. I do
not say this because I feel dissatisfied
with my present station. No, God for
bid ! For everybody and every thing
conspire to make me as contented as
possible in it ; yet I have seen too much
of the vanity of 'human affairs to expect
felicity from the splendid scenes of pub
lic life. I am still determined to be
cheerful and to be happy in whatever
situation I may be ; for I have also
learnt from experience that the greater
part of our happiness or misery depends
upon our dispositions, and not upon our
circumstances. We carry the seeds of
the one or the other about with us, in
our minds, wheresoever we go. I have
two of my grandchildren with me, who
enjoy advantages in point of education,
and who, I trust, by the goodness of
Providence, will continue to be a great
blessing to me. My other two grand
children are with their mother, in Vir
ginia. " The president's health is quite re
established by his late journey. Mine is
much better than it used to be. I am
sorry to hear that General Warren has
been ill ; hope, before this time, that he
may be entirely recovered. We should
rejoice to see you both. To both, I wish
the best of Heaven's blessings ; and am,
my dear madam, with esteem and re
gard, your friend and humble servant,
" M. Washington."

414

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Soon after his return to New York,
after his visit to the Eastern States, the
president was informed of the ill success
which had attended his first attempt
to negotiate a peace with the Creek
Indians. General Lincoln, Mr. Griffin,
and Colonel Humphreys had been de
puted on this mission, and had met
M'Gillivray with several other chiefs,
and about two thousand men, at Rock
Landing, on the Oconee', on the frontiers
of Georgia. The treaty commenced
with favorable appearances, but was
soon abruptly broken off by M'Gilli
vray. Some difficulties arose on the
subject of a boundary, but the principal
obstacles to a peace were supposed to
grow out of his personal interests, and
his connections with Spain.
This intelligence was more than coun
terbalanced by the accession of North
Carolina to the Union. In the month
of November, a second convention had
assembled under the authority of the
legislature of that State, and the con
stitution was adopted by a great ma
jority. We embrace the occasion afforded
by the interval between the two ses
sions of Congress to insert some further
notices of Washington's mode of life in
New York, as well as of his personal
appearance. The manner of living observed by
President Washington has been de
scribed in the following speech, deliv
ered by Mr. Stuyvesant, the president
of the New York Historical Society, at
the dinner on the occasion of the ju

bilee celebration, in the city of New
York, April 30, 1839.
" It cannot be expected, at this time
and place, any allusion should be made
to the public character of Washington ;
we are all in possession of his history,
from the dawn of life to the day that
Mount Vernon was wrapped in sable ;
and, after the exercises of this morning,
if any attempt to portray his political
or military life were made, it would
only be the glimmering light of a feeble
star succeeding the rays of a meridian
sun. " But the occasion affords an oppor
tunity of congratulating the small num
ber of gentlemen present, who enjoyed
the privilege of participating in the
ceremonies of the 30th of April, 1789 ;
they will recall to their memories the
spontaneous effusions of joy that per
vaded the breasts of the people who on
that occasion witnessed the organization
of a constitutional government, formed
by intelligent freemen, and consumma
ted by placing at its head the man in
whom their affections were concentra
ted as the father of their country.
" Washington's residence in this city,
after his inauguration, was limited to
about two years. His deportment in
life was not plain, nor was it at all
pompous, for no man was more devoid
of ostentation than himself: his style,
however, gave universal satisfaction to
all classes in the community; and, his
historian has informed us, was not
adopted for personal gratification, but
from a devotion to his country's wel-

Chap. II.]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

415

fare. Possessing a desirable stature, an
erect frame, and, superadded, a lofty
and sublime countenance, he never
appeared in public without arresting
the reverence and admiration of the
beholder; and the stranger who had
never before seen him, was at the
first impression convinced it was the
president who delighted him.
" He seldom walked in the street ;
his public recreation was in riding.
When accompanied by Mrs. Washing
ton, he rode in a carriage drawn by six
horses, with two outriders, who wore
rich livery, cocked hats, with cockades
and powder. When he rode on horse
back, he was joined by one or more of
the gentlemen of his family, and at
tended by his outriders. He always
attended divine service on Sundays ;
his carriage on those occasions con
tained Mrs. Washington and himself,
with one or both of their grandchil
dren, and was drawn by two horses,
with two footmen behind; it was suc
ceeded by a post-chaise, accommodating
two gentlemen of his household. On
his arrival in the city, the only resi
dence that could be procured was a
house in Cherry-street, long known as
the mansion of the Franklin family ;
but in a short time afterwards he re
moved to and occupied the house in
Broadway, now Bunker's Hotel.
"Washington held a levee once a
week ; and, from what is now recollect
ed, they were generally well attended,
but confined to men in public life and
gentlemen of leisure ; for at that day it

would have been thought a breach of
decorum to visit the president of the
United States in dishabille.
" The arrival of Washington, in 1789,
to assume the reins of government, was
not his first entry into this city, accom
panied with honor to himself and glory
to this country. This was on the 24th
of November, 1783 ; and here, again, I
must observe, the number present who
witnessed the ceremonies of that day,
must, indeed, be very limited ; on that
day he made his triumphal entry, not
to sway the sceptre, but to lay down
his sword ; not for personal aggrandize
ment, but to secure the happiness of his
countrymen. He early in the morn
ing left Harlem, and entered the city
through what is now called the Bow
ery; he was escorted by cavalry and
infantry, and a large concourse of citi
zens, on horseback and on foot, in plain
dress. The latter must have been an
interesting sight to those of mature age
who were capable of comprehending
their merit. In their ranks were seen
men with patched elbows, odd buttons
on their coats, and unmatched buckles
in their shoes; they were not, indeed,
Falstaff's company of scarecrows, but
the most respectable citizens, who had
been in exile, and endured privations
we know not of, for seven long and
tedious years.
" On that occasion, and on his arrival
in 1789, Washington was received, as
is well known, by the elder Clinton,
who was at both periods governor of
the State."

416

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

In the following extract, from a re
liable source, we have a fine descrip
tion of the effect produced by Wash
ington's personal appearance and man
ners on the mind of a highly intelligent
observer :
"The beautiful effusion which the
reader wall find below, is the produc
tion of the chaste and classic mind of
the late venerable and distinguished
senator from Rhode Island, Mr. Rob-
bins, and was occasioned by the follow
ing circumstances. During the session
of 1837-8, Mr. Webster entertained a
large party of friends at dinner ; among
them, the venerable senator we have
named. The evening passed off with
much hilarity, enlivened with wit and
sentiment; but, during the greater part
of the time, Mr. Bobbins maintained
that grave but placid silence which was
his habit. While thus apparently ab
stracted, some one suddenly called on
him. for a toast, which call was seconded
by the company. He rose, and in his
surprise asked if they were serious in
making such a demand of so old a man;
and being assured that they were, he
said, if they would suspend their hilarity
for a few moments, he would give them
a toast, and preface it with a few obser
vations. Having thus secured a breath
less stillness, he went on to remark, that
they were then on the verge of the 2 2d
of February, the anniversary of the birth
of the great patriot and statesman of
our country, whom all delighted to re
member and to honor ; and he hoped
he might be allowed the privilege of

an aged man to recur, for a few mo
ments, to past events connected with
his character and history. He then
proceeded, and delivered in the most
happy and impressive manner the beau
tiful speech which now graces our col
umns. The whole company were elec
trified by his patriotic enthusiasm ; and
one of the guests, before they separated,
begged that he would take the trouble
to put on paper what he had so hajipily
expressed, and furnish a copy for publi
cation. Mr. Robbins obligingly com
plied with this request on the following
clay, but by some accident the manu
script got mislaid, and eluded all search
for it until a few days ago, when it was
unexpectedly recovered, and is now pre
sented to our readers.
" ' On the near approach of that
calendar-day which gave birth to Wash
ington, I feel rekindling within me some
of those emotions always connected with
the recollection of that hallowed name.
Permit me to indulge them, on this oc
casion, for a moment, in a few remarks,
as preliminary to a sentiment which I
shall beg leave to propose.
" ' I consider it as one of the consola
tions of my ager that I am old enough
and fortunate enough to have seen that
wonderful man. This happiness is still
common to so many yet among the liv
ing, that less is thought of it now than
will be in after-times ; but it is no less
a happiness to me on that account.
" ' While a boy at school, I saw him
for the first time ; it was when he was
passing through New England, to take

Chap. IL]

THE ADMINISTRATION FORMED.

417

command in chief of the American ar
mies at Cambridge. Never shall I for
get the impression his imposing presence
then made upon my young imagination ;
so superior did he seem to me to all that
I had seen or imagined of the human
form for striking effect. I remember
with wrhat delight, in my after studies,
I came to the line in Virgil that ex
pressed all the enthusiasm of my own
feelings, as inspired by that presence,
and which I could not often enough
repeat :
" Credo equidem, nee vana fides, genus esse deorum."0
" ' I saw him again at his interview
with Rochambeau, when they met to
settle the plan of combined operations
between the French fleet and the Ameri
can armies, against the British on the
Chesapeake; and then I saw the im
mense crowd drawn together from all
the neighboring towns, to get, if possi
ble, one look at the man who had throned
himself in every heart. Not one of that
immense crowd doubted the final tri
umph of his country in her arduous
conflict ; for every one saw, or thought
he saw, in Washington, her guardian
angel, commissioned by Heaven to in
sure her that triumph. ' Nil desperan-
dum' was the motto with every one.
" Nil desperandum, Teucro duce, et auspice Teucro."f
" ' In after-life, when the judgment
corrects the extravagance of early im
pressions, I saw him on several occasions,
° I verily believe, nor is my confidence unfounded,
that he is of Divine descent.
f Let us never despair, with Teucer to lead us, and
under Teucer' s auspices.

but saw nothing to admonish me of any
extravagance in. my early impressions.
The impression was still the same ; I
had the same overpowering sense of
standing in the presence of some su
perior being.
" ' It is indeed remarkable, and I be
lieve unique in the history of men, that
Washington made the same impression
upon all minds, at all places, and at
once. When his fame first broke upon
the world, it spread at once over the
whole world. By the consent of man
kind, by the universal sentiment, he was
placed at the head of the human spe
cies ; above all envy, because above all
emulation ; for no one then pretended,
or has pretended to be — at least who
has been allowed to be — the co-rival of
Washington in fame.
" ' When the great Frederick of
Prussia sent his portrait to Washing
ton, with this inscription upon it, —
" From the oldest general in Europe to
the greatest general in the world," he
did but echo the sentiment of all the
chivalry of Europe. Nor was the sen
timent confined to Europe, nor to the
bounds of civilization ; for the Arab of
the desert talked of Washington in his
tent; his name wandered with the wan
dering Scythian, and was cherished by
him as a household word in all his
migrations. No clime was so barbarous
as to be a stranger to the name ; but
everywhere, and by all men, that name
was placed at the same point of eleva
tion, and above compeer. As it was in
the beginning, so it is now: of the

418

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

future we cannot speak with certainty.
Some future age, in the endless revolu
tions of time, may produce another
Washington; but the greater probabili
ty is, that he is destined to remain for
ever, as he now is, the Phoenix of human
kind. " ' What a possession to his country
is such a fame ! Such a
" Clarum et venerabile nomen
Gentibus?"0
" ' To all his countrymen it gives, and
0 A name, illustrious and venerable among the nations !

forever will give, a passport to respect
wherever they go, to whatever part of
the globe, for his country is in every
other identified with that fame.
" ' What, then, is incumbent upon us,
his countrymen ? Why, to be such a
people as shall be worthy of such a
fame — a people of whom it shall be
said, " No wonder such a people have
produced such a man as Washington." I
give you, therefore this sentiment :
" ' The memory of Washington : May
his countrymen prove themselves a peo
ple worthy of his fame.' "

CHAPTER III.
1789—1790.
THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.
Washington remains in New York till Congress reassembles. — His letter to the emperor of Morocco. — He sits to Mr,
Savage for his portrait. — Meeting of Congress. — Opening speech of the president. — Harmonious feeling of the ex
ecutive and Congress. — Hamilton's letter to the speaker of the House of Representatives. — His plan for the support
of public credit. — He proposes that all creditors, foreign and domestic, should be treated alike. — He proposes a
loan for the amount of the debt of the Union and that of the individual States. — Terms of the loan. — He proposes
duties on imported wines, spirits, tea, and coffee, and an excise on home-made spirits. — Congress takes up, and
debates on, Hamilton's report. — Provision for the foreign debt agreed to. — Debate on funding the domestic debt.
— Madison's plan rejected. — Origin of the State debts, the national defence. — Hamilton proposes for the Union to
assume them. — Vigorous opposition to this plan. — Arguments of the opponents. — Arguments in support of the
assumption. — Resolution to assume carried. — The North Carolina members take their seats. — The resolutions
recommitted. — Fresh debate. — Resolutions negatived. — Provision for a permanent seat of government taken up.
¦ — Debate. — Bill for holding the sessions of Congress for ten years at Philadelphia, and at some place on the Poto
mac River subsequently, passed. — Amended bill for funding the public debt taken up and passed. — Supposed
compromise respecting these two bills. — Highly favorable effect of the funding of the public debt on the business
of the country. — Petition respecting the abolition of slavery. — Action of Congress respecting it. — Other business
done by Congress at this session. — Congress adjourns to meet in Philadelphia in December. — Death of Dr. Frank
lin. — Rhode Island joins the Union. — Peace concluded with the Creeks. — Hostility of the western Indians. — Un
friendly conduct of Spain respecting the Mississippi. — Relations with Great Britain. — Illness of Washington. —
His departure from New York for Mount Vernon. — Graphic description of his journey by Mr. Custis.

During the recess of Congress, Wash
ington generally visited Mount Vernon ;
but after the rising of the first Con
gress under the constitution, his visit to
New England consumed so much time,
that he remained in New York till
Congress reassembled. His Eastern
tour commenced on the 15th of Octo
ber, as we have already seen, and ended
on the 13th of November. As Con
gress was to meet on the 1st of Janu
ary, 1790, he had no time to visit
Mount Vernon. During the short
time which elapsed before that day, he

was very earnestly engaged in the
duties of his office, and in correspond
ence with public men on political af
fairs. One of his letters, addressed to
the emperor of Morocco, is curious, as
showing the tact with which he accom
modated his style to the comprehension
of the oriental sovereign. It was writ
ten in consequence of an intimation
from Mr. Chiappe, the American agent
at Mogadore, that the emperor was not
well pleased at receiving no acknowl
edgment from the government in re
spect to the treaty with Morocco of the

420

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

28th of June, 1786, his subsequent
faithful observance of the same, as well
as his good offices in favor of the
Americans with the bashaws of Tunis
and Tripoli. The letter is as fol
lows: " Great and Magnanimous Friend :
" Since the date of the last letter
which the late Congress by their presi
dent addressed to your Imperial Ma
jesty, the United States of America
have thought proper to change their
government, and to institute a new one,
agreeably to the constitution, of Avhich
I have the honor of herewith inclosing
a copy. The time necessarily employed
in the arduous task, and the derange
ments occasioned by so great, though
peaceable, a revolution, will apologize
and account for your Majesty's not hav
ing received those regular advices, and
marks of attention from the United
States, which the friendship and mag
nanimity of your conduct towards them
afforded reason to expect.
" The United States, having unani
mously appointed me to the supreme
executive authority in this nation, your
Majesty's letter of the 17th of August,
1788, which, by reason of the dissolu
tion of the late government, remained
unanswered, has been delivered to me.
I have also received the letters which
your Imperial Majesty has been so
kind as to write, in favor of the United
States, to the bashaws of Tunis and
Tripoli, and I present to you the sin
cere acknowledgments and thanks of

the United States for this important
mark of your friendship for them.
" We greatly regret that the hostile
disposition of those regencies towards
this nation, who have never injured
them, is not to be removed on terms in
our power to comply with. Within our
territories there are no mines either of
gold or silver ; and this young nation,
just recovering from the waste and
desolation of a long war, has not as yet
had time to acquire riches by agricul
ture and commerce. But our soil is
bountiful, and our people industrious;
and we have reason to flatter ourselves
that we shall gradually become useful
to our friends.
" The encouragement which your Ma
jesty has been pleased generously to
give to our commerce with your domin
ions, the punctuality with which you
have caused the treaty with us to be
observed, and the just and generous
measures taken in the case of Captain
Proctor, make a deep impression on the
United States, and confirm their re
spect for, and attachment to, your Im
perial Majesty.
" It gives me pleasure to have this
opportunity of assuring your Majesty
that, while I remain at the head of this
nation, I shall not cease to promote
every measure that may conduce to the
friendship and harmony which so hap
pily subsist between your empire and
them, and shall esteem myself happy on
every occasion of convincing your Ma
jesty of the high sense which, in com
mon with the whole nation, I entertain

Chap. III.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

421

of the magnanimity, wisdom, and be
nevolence of your Majesty. In the
course of the approaching winter the
national legislature, which is called by
the former name of Congress, will as
semble ; and I shall take care that
nothing be omitted that may be neces
sary to cause the correspondence be
tween our countries to be maintained
and conducted in a manner agreeable to
your Majesty, and satisfactory to all
parties concerned in it.
" May the Almighty bless your Im
perial Majesty — our great and magnani
mous friend — with his constant guidance
and protection.
" Written at the City of New York, 1
the 1st day of December, 1789." )
In December, 1789, Washington was
requested by Mr. Joseph Willard, the
president of Harvard University, to sit
to Mr. Savage for his portrait, to be
placed in the philosophy chamber of
the university. Washington promptly
replied to the letter of the president,
and the portrait was painted by Mr.
Savage, and deposited in the university.
On the 8th of January, 1790, the
president met both houses of Congress
in the senate chamber.
In his speech, which was delivered
from the chair of the vice-presi
dent, after congratulating Con
gress on the accession of the important
State of North Carolina to the Union,
and on the prosperous aspect of Ameri
can affairs, he proceeded to recommend
certain great objects of legislation to
their more especial consideration.
Vol. H.— 54

1T90.

"Among the many interesting ob
jects," continued the speech, " which
will engage your attention, that of pro
viding for the common defence will
merit your particular regard. To be
prepared for war, is one of the most
effectual means of preserving peace.
" A free people ought not only to be
armed but disciplined ; to which end, a
uniform and well-digested plan is requi
site ; and their safety and interest re
quire that they should promote such
manufactories as tend to render them
independent on others for essential, par
ticularly for military, supplies."
As connected with this subject, a
proper establishment for the troops
which they might deem indispensable,
was suggested for their mature delib
eration ; and the indications of a hostile
temper given by several tribes of In
dians, were considered as admonishing
them of the necessity of being prepared
to afford protection to the frontiers, and
to punish aggression.
The interests of the United States
were declared to require that the means
of keeping up their intercourse with
foreign nations should be provided ; and
the expediency of establishing a uni
form rule of naturalization was sug
gested. After expressing his confidence in
their attention to many improvements
essential to the prosperity of the inte
rior, the president added : " Nor am I
less persuaded that you will agree with
me in opinion, that there is nothing
which can better deserve your patron-

422

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

age than the promotion of science and
literature. Knowledge is in every coun
try the surest basis of public happiness.
In one, in which the measures of gov
ernment receive their impression so im
mediately from the sense of the commu
nity as in ours, it is proportionably
essential. To the security of a free
constitution it contributes in various
ways : by convincing those who are in
trusted with the public administration,
that every valuable end of government
is best answered by the enlightened
confidence of the people ; and by teach
ing the people themselves to know and
to value their own rights ; to discern
and provide against invasions of them ;
to distinguish between oppression and
the necessary exercise of lawful author
ity, — between burdens proceeding from
a disregard to their convenience, and
those resulting from the inevitable exi
gencies of society; to discriminate the
spirit of liberty from that of licentious
ness, cherishing the first, avoiding the
last, and uniting a speedy but temper
ate vigilance against encroachments,
with an inviolable respect to the laws.
"Whether this desirable object will
be best promoted by affording aids to
seminaries of learning already estab
lished, by the institution of a national
university, or by any other expedients,
will be well worthy of a place in the
deliberations of the legislature."
Addressing himself then particularly
to the representatives, he said : " I saw
with peculiar pleasure, at the close of
the last session, the resolution entered

into by you, expressive of your opinion
that an adequate provision for the sup
port of the public credit is a matter of
high importance to the national honor
and prosperity. In this sentiment I en
tirely concur ; and to a perfect confi
dence in your best endeavors to devise
such a provision as will be truly consist
ent with the end, I add an equal reli
ance on the cheerful co-operation of the
other branch of the legislature. It
would be superfluous to specify induce
ments to a measure in which the char
acter and permanent interests of the
United States are so obviously and so
deeply concerned, and which has re
ceived so explicit a sanction from your
declaration." Addressing himself again to both
houses, he observed that the estimates
and papers respecting the objects par
ticularly recommended to their atten
tion would be laid before them ; and
concluded with saying : " The welfare of
our country is the great object to which
our cares and efforts ought to be di
rected ; and I shall derive great satis
faction from a co-operation with you in
the pleasing though arduous task of in
suring to our fellow-citizens the bless
ings which they have a right to expect
from a free, efficient, and equal govern
ment." The answers of both houses were in
dicative of the harmony which subsisted
between the executive and legislative
departments. Congress had been so occupied, dur
ing its first session, with those bills

Chap. IH.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

423

which were necessary to bring the new
system into full operation, and to create
an immediate revenue, that some meas
ures which possessed great and pressing
claims to immediate attention had been
unavoidably deferred. The neglect un
der which the creditors of the public
had been permitted to languish, could
not fail to cast an imputation on the
American republic, and had been sin
cerely lamented by the wisest among
those who administered the former gov
ernment. The power to comply sub
stantially with the engagements of the
United States being at length conferred
on those who were bound by them, it
was confidently expected by the friends
of the constitution that their country
would retrieve its reputation, and that
its fame would no longer be tarnished
with the blots which stain a faithless
people. On the 9th of January, a letter from
Mr. Hamilton, the secretary of the
treasury, to the speaker of the House of
Representatives, was read, stating that,
in obedience to the resolution of the
21st of September, he had prepared a
plan for the support of public credit,
which he was ready to report when
the House should be pleased to receive
it ; and, after a short debate, in which
the personal attendance of the secretary,
for the purpose of making explanations,
was urged by some and opposed by
others, it was resolved that the report
should be received in writing on the
succeeding Thursday.
Availing himself of the latitude af

forded by the terms of the resolution
under which he acted, the secretary
had introduced into his report an able
and comprehensive argument elucida
ting and supporting the principles it
contained. After displaying, with
strength and perspicuity, the justice
and the policy of an adequate provision
for the public debt, he proceeded to
discuss the principles on which it should
be made.
" It was agreed," he said, " by all,
that the foreign debt should be pro
vided for according to the precise terms
of the contract. It was to be regretted
that, with respect to the domestic debt,
the same unanimity of Sentiment did
not prevail."
The first point on which the public
appeared to be divided, involved the
question, " whether a discrimination
ought not to be made between original
holders of the public securities, and
present possessors by purchase." After
reviewing the arguments generally
urged in its support, the secretary de
clared himself against this discrimina
tion. He deemed it "equally unjust
and impolitic ; highly injurious even to
the original holders of public securities,
and ruinous to public credit." To the
arguments with which he enforced
these opinions, he added the authority
of the government of the Union. From
the circular address of Congress to the
States, of the 26th of April, 1783, ac
companying their revenue system of
the 18th of the same month, passages
were selected indicating, unequivocally,

424

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

that in the view of that body the origi
nal creditors, and those who had be
come so by assignment, had equal claims
upon the nation.
After reasoning at great length
asrainst a discrimination between the
different creditors of the Union, the
secretary proceeded to examine whether
a difference ought to be permitted to
remain between them and the creditors
of individual States.
Both descriptions of debt were con
tracted 'for the same objects, and were
in the main the same. Indeed, a great
part of the particular debts of the
States had arisen from assumptions by
them on account of the Union ; and it
was most equitable that there should be
the same measure of retribution for all.
There wTere many reasons, some of which
were stated, for believing this would
not be the case, unless the State debts
should be assumed by the nation.
In addition to the injustice of favor
ing one class of creditors more than
another which was equally meritorious,
many arguments were urged in support
of the policy of distributing to all with
an equal hand from the same source.
After an elaborate discussion of these
and some other points connected with
the subject, the secretary proposed that
a loan should be opened to the full
amount of the debt, as well of the par
ticular States as of the Union.
The terms to be offered were, —
First. That for every one hundred
dollars subscribed payable in the debt,
as well interest as principal, the sub

scriber should be entitled to have two-
thirds funded on a yearly interest of
six per cent, (the capital redeemable at
the pleasure of government by the pay
ment of the principal), and to receive
the other third in lands of the western
territory at their then actual value. Or,
Secondly. To have the whole sum
funded at a yearly interest of four per
cent., irredeemable by any payment ex
ceeding five dollars per annum both on
account of principal and interest, and
to receive as a compensation for the re
duction of interest, fifteen dollars and
eighty cents, payable in lands as in the
preceding case. Or,
Thirdly. To have sixty-six and two-
thircls of a dollar funded at a yearly
interest of six per cent., irredeemable
also by any payment exceeding four
dollars and two-thirds of a dollar per
annum on account both of principal
and interest, and to have at the end of
ten years twenty-six dollars and eighty-
eight cents funded at the like interest
and rate of redemption.
In addition to these propositions, the
creditors were to have an option of
vesting their money in annuities on
different plans ; and it was also recom
mended to open a loan at five per cent.
for ten millions of dollars, payable one
half in specie, and the other half in the
debt, irredeemable by any payment ex
ceeding six dollars per annum both of
principal and interest.
By way of experiment, a tontine, on
principles stated in the report, was also
suggested.

Chap. HI.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

425

The secretary was restrained from
proposing to fund the whole debt im
mediately at the current rate of interest,
by the opinion, " that although such a
provision might not exceed the abilities
of the country, it would require the
extension of taxation to a degree and
to objects which the true interests of
the creditors themselves would forbid.
It was therefore to be hoped and ex
pected, that they would cheerfully con
cur in such modifications of their claims,
on fair and equitable principles, as would
facilitate to the government an arrange
ment substantial, durable, and satisfac
tory to the community. Exigencies
might ere long arise which would call
for resources greatly beyond what was
now deemed sufficient for the current
service ; and should the faculties of the
country be exhausted, or even strained
to provide for the public debt, there
could be less reliance on the sacredness
of the provision.
"But while he yielded to the force of
these considerations, he did not lose
sight of those fundamental principles of
good faith which dictate that every
practicable exertion ought to be made,
scrupulously to fulfil the engagements
of government ; that no change in the
rights of its creditors ought to be at
tempted without their voluntary con
sent; and that this consent ought to be
voluntary in fact, as well as in name.
Consequently, that every proposal of a
change ought to be in the shape of an
appeal to their reason and to their in
terest, not to their necessities. To this

end, it was requisite that a fair equiva
lent should be offered for what might
be asked to be given up, and unques
tionable security for the remainder."
This fair equivalent for the proposed
reduction of interest was, he thought,
offered in the relinquishment of the
power to redeem the whole debt at
pleasure. That a free judgment might be ex
ercised by the holders of public securi
ties in accepting or rejecting the terms
offered by the government, provision
was made in the report for paying to
non-subscribing creditors a dividend of
the surplus which should remain in the
treasury after paying the interest of the
proposed loans; but as the funds im
mediately to be provided were calcu
lated to produce only four per cent, on
the entire debt, the dividend, for the
present, was not to exceed that rate of
interest. To enable the treasury to support
this increased demand upon it, an aug
mentation of the duties on imported
wines, spirits, tea, and coffee was pro
posed, and a duty on home-made spirits
was also recommended.
This celebrated report, which has
been alike the fruitful theme of extrava
gant praise and bitter censure, merits
the more attention, because the first
regular and systematic opposition to
the principles on which the affairs of the
Union were administered, originated in
the measures which were founded on it.
On the 28th of January, says Mar
shall, this subject was taken up ; and,

426

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

after some animadversions on the specu
lations in the public debt to which the
report, it was said, had already given
birth, the business wras postponed until
the eighth of February, when it was
again brought forward.
Several resolutions affirmative of the
principles contained in the report, were
moved by Mr. Fitzsimmons. To the
first, which respected a provision for
the foreign debt, the house agreed with
out a dissenting voice. The second, in
favor of appro priating permanent funds
for payment of the interest on the do
mestic debt, and for the gradual re
demption of the principal, gave rise to
a very animated debate.*
Mr. Jackson declared his hostility to
funding systems generally. To prove
their pernicious influence, he appealed
to the histories of Florence, Genoa, and
Great Britain; and, contending that the
subject ought to be deferred until North
Carolina should be represented, moved
that the committee should rise. This
question being decided in the negative,
Mr. Scott declared the opinion that the
United States were not bound to pay
the domestic creditors the sums speci
fied in the certificates of debts in their
possession. He supported this opinion
by urging, not that the public had re
ceived less value than was expressed on
8 On account of the great importance of this^debate,
we give Marshall's synopsis of the arguments used on
both sides. It brought up the question of State rights
as opposed to centralization, for the first time ; and on
many other accounts is particularly interesting for the
political reader, as well as for all who are curious respect
ing our early colonial history.

the face of the paper which had been
issued, but that those to whom it had
been delivered, by parting with it at
two shillings and sixpence in the pound,
had themselves fixed the value of their
claims, and had manifested their will
ingness to add to their other sacrifices
this deduction from their demand upon
the nation. He therefore moved to
amend the resolution before the com
mittee so as to require a resettlement of
the debt.
The amendment was opposed by Mr.
Boudinot, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Ames, Mr.
Sherman, Mr. Hartley, and Mr. Good
hue. They stated at large the terms
on which the debt had been contracted,
and urged the confidence which the
creditors had a right to place in the
government for its discharge according
to settlements already made, and ac
knowledgments already given. The idea
that the legislative body could diminish
an ascertained debt was reprobated with
great force, as being at the same time
unjust, impolitic, and subversive of
every principle on which public con
tracts are founded. The evidences of
debt possessed by the creditors of the
United States were considered as pub
lic bonds, for the redemption of which
the property and the labor of the peo
ple were pledged.
After the debate had been protracted
to some length, the question was taken
on Mr. Scott's amendment, and it passed
in the negative.
Mr. Madison then rose, and, in an
eloquent speech, replete with argument,

Chap. III.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

427

proposed an amendment to the resolu
tion, the effect of which was to discrimi
nate between the public creditors, so as
to pay the present holder of assignable
paper the highest price it had borne in
the market, and give the residue to the
person with whom the debt was origi
nally contracted. Where the original
creditor had never parted with his
claim, he was to receive the whole sum
acknowledged to be due on the face of
the certificate.
This motion was supported by Mr.
Jackson, Mr. White, Mr. Moore, Mr.
Page, Mr. Stone, Mr. Scott, and Mr.
Seney. It was opposed with great earnest
ness and strength of argument by Mr.
Sedgewic, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Smith, of
South Carolina, Mr. Ames,* Mr. Gerry,
Mr. Boudinot, Mr. Wadsworth, Mr.
Goodhue, Mr. Hartley, Mr. Bland, Mr.
Benson, Mr. Burke, and Mr. Livermore.
The argument was ably supported on
both sides, was long, animated, and in
teresting. At length the question was
put, and the amendment was rejected
by a great majority.
This discussion deeply engaged the
public attention. The proposition was
new and interesting. That the debt
ought to be diminished for the public
advantage, was an opinion which had
frequently been advanced, and was
maintained by many. But a reduction
from the claims of its present holders
for the benefit of those who had sold
<* See Document at the end of this chapter.

their lights, was a measure which saved
nothing to the public purse, and was
therefore recommended only by con
siderations, the operation of which can
never be very extensive. Against it
were arrayed all who had made pur
chases, and a great majority of those
who conceived that sound policy and
honest dealing require a literal obser
vance of public contracts.
Although the decision of Congress
against a discrimination in favor of the
original creditor produced no considera
ble sensation, the determination on that
part of the secretary's report which was
the succeeding subject of deliberation,
affecting political interests and powers
which are never to be approached with
out danger, seemed to unchain all those
fierce passions which a high respect for
the government, and for those who ad
ministered it, had in a great measure
restrained. The manner in which the several
States entered into and conducted the
war of the Revolution, is well known.
Acting in some respects separately, and
in others conjointly, for the attainment
of a common object, their resources
were exerted, sometimes under the au
thority of Congress, sometimes under
the authority of the local government,
to repel the enemy wherever he ap
peared. The debt incurred in support
of the war was, therefore, in the first
instance, contracted partly by Congress
and partly by the States. When the
system of requisitions was adopted, the
transactions of the Union were carried

428

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

on almost entirely through the agency
of the States ; and when the measure of
compensating the army for the depre
ciation of their pay became necessary,
this burden, under the recommendation
of Congress, was assumed by the re
spective States. Some had funded this
debt, and paid the interest upon it.
Others had made no provision for the
interest ; but all, by taxes, paper money,
or purchase, had in some measure re
duced the principal. In their exertions
some degree of inequality had obtained ;
and they looked anxiously to a settle
ment of accounts, for the ascertainment
of claims which each supposed itself to
have upon the Union. Measures to ef
fect this object had been taken by the
former government ; but they were slow
in their progress, and intrinsic difficul
ties were found in the thing itself, not
easily to be overcome.
Hamilton proposed to assume these
debts, and to fund them in common
with that which continued to be the
proper debt of the Union.
The resolution which comprehended
this principle of the report, was vigor
ously opposed.
It was contended that the general
government would acquire an undue in
fluence, and that the State governments
would be annihilated by the measure.
Not only would all the influence of the
public creditors be thrown into the scale
of the former, but it would absorb all
the powers of taxation, and leave to the
latter only the shadow of a government.
This would probably terminate in ren

dering the State governments useless,
and would destroy the system so re
cently established. The Union, it was
said, had been compared to a rope of
sand ; but gentlemen were cautioned
not to push things to the opposite ex
treme. The attempt to strengthen it
might be unsuccessful, and the cord
might be strained until it should break.
The constitutional authority of the
federal government to assume the debts
of the States was questioned. Its pow
ers, it was said, were specified, and this
was not among them.
The policy of the measure, as it affect
ed merely the government of the Union,
was controverted, and its justice was
arraigned. On the ground of policy, it was ob
jected that the assumption would im
pose on the United States a burden, the
weight of which was unascertained, and
which would require an extension of
taxation beyond the limits which pru
dence would prescribe. An attempt to
raise the impost would be dangerous ;
and the excise added to it would not
produce funds adequate to the object.
A tax on real estate must be resorted
to, objections to which had been made
in every part of the Union. It would
be more advisable to leave this source
of revenue untouched in the hands of
the State governments, who could apply
to it with more facility, with a better
understanding of the subject, and with
less dissatisfaction to individuals, than
could possibly be done by the govern
ment of the United States.

Chap. III.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

429

There existed no necessity for taking
up this burden. The State creditors
had not required it. There was no
petition from them upon the subject.
There was not only no application from
the States, but there was reason to be
lieve that they were seriously opposed
to the measure. Many of them would
certainly view it with a jealous — a jaun
diced eye. The convention of North
Carolina which adopted the constitu
tion had proposed, as an amendment
to it, to deprive Congress of the power
of interfering between the respective
States and their creditors ; and there
could be no obligation to assume more
than the balances which on a final set
tlement would be found due to creditor
States. That the debt by being thus accumu
lated would be perpetuated, was also an
evil of real magnitude. Many of the
States had already made considerable
progress in extinguishing their debts,
and the process might certainly be car
ried on more rapidly by them than by
the Union. A public debt seemed to
be considered by some as a public bless
ing ; but to this doctrine they were not
converts. If, as they believed, a public
debt was a public evil, it would be
enormously increased by adding those
of the States to that of the Union.
The measure was unwise too, as it
would affect public credit. Such an
augmentation of the debt must inev
itably depreciate its value ; since it was
the character of paper, whatever de
nomination it might assume, to diminish
Voi. IL— 55

in value in proportion to the quantity
in circulation.
It would also increase an evil which
was already sensibly felt. The State
debts, when assumed by the continent,
would, as that of the Union had already
done, accumulate in large cities ; and
the dissatisfaction excited by the pay
ment of taxes, would be increased by
perceiving that the money raised from
the people flowed into the hands of a
few individuals. Still greater mischief
was to be apprehended. A great part
of this additional debt would go into
the hands of foreigners ; and the United
States would be heavily burdened to
pay an interest which could not be ex
pected to remain in the country.
The measure was unjust, because it
was burdening those States which had
taxed themselves highly to discharge
the claims of their creditors, with the
debts of those which had not made the
same exertions. It would delay the
settlement of accounts between the in
dividual States and the United States ;
and the supporters of the measure were
openly charged with intending to defeat
that settlement.
It was also said that, in its execution,
the scheme would be found extremely
embarrassing, perhaps impracticable.
The case of a partial accession to the
measure by the creditors, a case which
would probably occur, presented a dif
ficulty for which no provision was made,
and of which no solution had been
given. Should the creditors in some
States come into the system, and those

430

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

in others refuse to change their security,
the government would be involved in
perplexities from which no means of
extricating itself had been shown. Nor
would it be practicable to discriminate
between the debts contracted for gen
eral and for local objects.
In the course of the debate, severe
allusions were made to the conduct of
particular States ; and the opinions ad
vanced in favor of the measure were
ascribed to local interests.
In support of the assumption, the
debts of the States were traced to their
origin. America, it was said, had en
gaged in a war, the object of which was
equally interesting to every part of the
Union. It was not the war of a par
ticular State, but of the United States.
It was not the liberty and independence
of a part, but of the whole, for which
they had contended, and which they
had acquired. The cause was a com
mon cause. As brethren, the American
people had consented to hazard prop
erty and life in its defence. All the
sums expended in the attainment of
this great object, whatever might be
the authority under which they were
raised or appropriated, conduced to the
same end. Troops were raised, and
military stores purchased, before Con
gress assumed the command of the
army or the control of the war. The
ammunition which repulsed the enemy
at Bunker's Hill, was purchased by
Massachusetts, and formed a part of
the debt of that State.
Nothing could be more erroneous

than the principle which had been as
sumed in argument, that the holders of
securities issued by individual States
were to be considered merely as State
creditors ; as if the debt had been con
tracted on account of the particular
State. It was contracted on account of
the Union, in that common cause in
which all were equally interested.
From the complex nature of the
political system which had been adopt
ed in America, the war was,. in a great
measure, carried on through the agency
of the State governments ; and the
debts were, in truth, the debts, of the
Union, for which the States had made
themselves responsible. Except the
civil list, the whole State expenditure
was in- the prosecution of the war ; and
the State taxes had undeniably ex
ceeded the provision for their civil list.
The foundation for the several classes
of the debt was reviewed in detail ; and
it was affirmed to be proved from the
review, and from the books in the pub
lic offices, that, in its origin, a great part
of it, even in form, and the whole, in
fact, was equitably due from the con
tinent. The States individually pos
sessing all the resources of the nation,
became responsible to certain descrip
tions of the public creditors. But they
were the agents of the continent in
contracting the debt ; and its distribu
tion among them for payment, arose
from the division of political power
which existed under the old confedera
tion. A new arrangement of the system
had taken place, and a power over the

Chap. III.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

431

resources of the nation was conferred
on the general government. With the
funds, the debt also ought to be as
sumed. This investigation of its origin
demonstrated that the assumption was
not the creation of a new debt, but the
reacknowledgment of liability for an
old one, the payment of which had de
volved on those members of the system
who, at the time, were-alone capable of
paying it. And thence was inferred,
not only the justice of the measure, but
a complete refutation of the arguments
drawn from the constitution. If, in
point of fact, the debt was in its origin
continental, and had been transferred
to the States for greater facility of pay
ment, there could be no constitutional
objection to restoring its original and
real character.
The great powers of war, of taxation,
and of borrowing money, which were
vested in Congress to pay the debts,
and provide for the common defence
and general welfare of the United States,
comprised that in question. There could
be no more doubt of their right to
charge themselves with the payment of
a debt contracted in the past war, than
to borrow money for the prosecution of
a future war. The impolicy of leaving
the public creditors to receive payment
from different sources was also strongly
pressed ; and the jealousy which would
exist between the creditors of the Union
and of the States, was considered as a
powerful argument in favor of giving
them one common interest. This jeal
ousy, it was feared, might be carried so

far, as even to create an opposition to
the laws of the Union.
If the States should provide for their
creditors, the same sum of money must
be collected from the people, as would
be required if the debt should be as
sumed ; and it would probably be col
lected in a manner more burdensome,
than if one uniform system should be
established. If all should not make
such provision, it would be unjust to
leave the soldier of one State unpaid,
while the services of the man who
fought by his side were amply compen
sated; and, after having assumed the
funds, it would dishonor the general
government to permit a creditor for
services rendered, or property advanced
for the continent, to remain unsatisfied,
because his claim had been transferred
to the State, at a time when the State
alone possessed the means of payment.
By the injured and neglected creditor,
such an arrangement might justly be
considered as a disreputable artifice.
Instead of delaying, it was believed
to be a measure which would facilitate
the settlement of accounts between the
States. Its advocates declared that
they did not entertain, and never had
entertained, any wish to procrastinate a
settlement. On the contrary, it was
greatly desired by them. They had
themselves brought forward proposi
tions for that purpose ; and they invited
their adversaries to assist in improving
the plan which had been introduced.
The settlement between the States, it
was said, either would or would not be

432

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

made. Should it ever take place, it
would remedy any inequalities which
might grow out of the assumption.
Should it never take place, the justice
of the measure became the more ap
parent. That the burdens in support
of a common war, which from various
causes had devolved unequally on the
States, ought to be apportioned among
them, was a truth too clear to be con
troverted; and this, if the settlement
should never be accomplished, could be
effected only by the measure now pro
posed. Indeed, in any event, it would
be the only certain, as well as only
eligible plan. For how were the debtor
States to be compelled to pay the bal
ances which should be found against
them ?
If the measure was recommended by
considerations which rendered its ulti
mate adoption inevitable, the present
was clearly preferable to any future
time. It was desirable immediately to
quiet the minds of the public creditors,
by assuring them that justice would be
done ; to simplify the forms of public
debt ; and to put an end to that specu
lation which had been so much repro
bated, and which could be terminated
only by giving the debt a real and per
manent value.
That the assumption would impair
the just influence of the States, was
controverted with great strength of
argument. The diffusive representation
in the State legislatures, the intimate
connection between the representative
and his constituents, the influence of

the State legislatures over the members
of one branch of the national legisla
ture, the nature of the powers exercised
by the State governments, which per
petually presented them to the people
in a point of view calculated to lay
hold of the public affections, were guar
antees that the States would retain
their due weight in the political sys
tem, and that a debt was not necessary
to the solidity or duration of their
power. But the argument, it was said, proved
too much. If a debt was now essential
to the preservation of State authority,
it would always be so. It must there
fore never be extinguished, but must be
perpetuated, in order to secure the ex
istence of the State governments. If,
for this purpose, it was indispensable
that the expenses of the Revolutionary
War should be borne by the States, it
would not be less indispensable that the
expenses of future wars should be borne
in the same manner. Either the argu
ment was unfounded, or the constitu
tion was wrong ; and the powers of the
sword and the purse ought not to have
been conferred on the government of
the Union. Whatever speculative opin
ions might be entertained on this point,
they were to administer the government
according to the principles of the con
stitution as it was framed. But, it was
added, if so much power follows the
assumption as the objection implies, is
it not time to ask — is it safe to forbear
assuming ? If the power is so dangerous,
it will be so wdien exercised by the

Chap. III.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

433

States. If assuming tends to consolida
tion, is the reverse, tending to disunion,
a less weighty objection? If it is an
swered that the non-assumption will not
necessarily tend to disunion ; neither, it
may be replied, does the assumption
necessarily tend to consolidation.
It was not admitted that the assump
tion would tend to perpetuate the debt.
It could not be presumed that the gen
eral government would be less willing
than the local governments to discharge
it ; nor could it be presumed that the
means were less attainable by the former
than the latter.
It was not contended that a public
debt was a public blessing. Whether
a debt was to be preferred to no debt
was not the question. The debt was
already contracted ; and the question,
so far as policy might be consulted, was,
whether it was more for the public ad
vantage to give it such a form as would
render it applicable to the purposes of
a circulating medium, or to leave it a
mere subject of speculation, incapable
of being employed to any useful pur
pose. The debt was admitted to be an
evil ; but it was an evil from which, if
wisely modified, some benefit might be
extracted ; and which, in its present
state, could have only a mischievous
operation. If the debt -should be placed on ade
quate funds, its operation on public
credit could not be pernicious: in its
present precarious condition, there was
much more to be apprehended in that
respect.

To the objection that it would accu
mulate in large cities, it was answered it
would be a moneyed capital, and would
be held by those who chose to place
money at interest ; but by funding the
debt, the present possessors would be
enabled to part with it at its nominal
value, instead of selling it at its present
current rate. If it should centre in the
hands of foreigners, the sooner it was
appreciated to its proper standard, the
greater quantity of specie would its
transfer bring into the United States.
To the injustice of charging those
States which had made great exertions
for the payment of their debts with
the burden properly belonging to those
which had not made such exertions, it
was answered, that every State must be
considered as having exerted itself to
the utmost of its resources ; and that if
it could not or would not make provi
sion for creditors to whom the Union
was equitably bound, the argument in
favor of an assumption was the stronger.
The arguments drawn from local in
terests were repelled, and retorted, and
a great degree of irritation was excited
on both sides.
After a very animated discussion of
several days, the question was taken,
and the resolution was carried by a
small majority. Soon after this deci
sion, while the subject was pending be
fore the House, the delegates from
North Carolina took their seats, and
changed the strength of parties. By a
majority of two voices, the resolution
was recommitted ; and, after a long and

434

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

ardent debate, was negatived by the
same majority.
This proposition continued to be sup
ported with a degree of earnestness
which its opponents termed pertina
cious, but not a single opinion was
changed. It was brought forward in
the new and less exceptionable form of
assuming specific sums from each State.
Under this modification of the principle,
the extraordinary contributions of par
ticular States during the war, and their
exertions since the peace, might be re
garded ; and the objections to the meas
ure, drawn from the uncertainty of the
sum to be assumed, would be removed.
But these alterations produced no
change of sentiment ; and the bill was
sent up to the Senate with a provision
for those creditors only whose certifi
cates of debt purported to be payable
by the Union.
In this state of things, the measure is
understood to have derived aid from
another, which was of a nature strong
ly to interest particular parts of the
Union. From the month of June, 1783, when
Congress was driven from Philadelphia
by the mutiny of a part of the Pennsyl
vania line, the necessity of selecting
some place for a permanent residence,
in which the government of the Union
might exercise sufficient authority to
protect itself from violence and insult,
had been generally acknowledged.
Scarcely any subject had occupied more
time, or had more agitated the mem
bers of the former Congress, than this.

In December, 1784, an ordinance was
passed for appointing commissioners to
purchase land on the Delaware, in the
neighborhood of its falls, and to erect
thereon the necessary public buildings
for the reception of Congress and the
officers of government ; but the South
ern interest had been sufficiently strong
to arrest the execution of this ordi
nance by preventing an appropriation
of funds, which required the assent of
nine States. Under the existing gov
ernment, this subject had received the
early attention of Congress ; and many
different situations, from the Delaware
to the Potomac inclusive, had been
earnestly supported ; but a majority of
both houses had not concurred in favor
of any one place. With as little suc
cess, attempts had been made to change
the temporary residence of Congress.
Although New York was obviously too
far to the east, so many conflicting in
terests were brought into operation
whenever the subject was touched, that
no motion designating a more central
place could succeed. At length, a com
pact respecting the temporary and per
manent seat of government was entered
into between the friends of Philadelphia
and the Potomac, stipulating that Con
gress should adjourn to and hold its
sessions in Philadelphia for ten years,
during which time buildings for the ac
commodation of the government should
be erected at some place on the Poto
mac, to which the government should
remove at the expiration of the term.
This compact having united the repre-

Chap. III.]

THE PUBLIC CREDIT ESTABLISHED.

435

sentatives of Pennsylvania and Dela
ware with the friends of the Potomac,
in favor both of the temporary and
permanent residence which had been
agreed on between them, a majority
was produced in favor of the two situa
tions ; and a bill which was brought
into the Senate in conformity with this
previous arrangement, passed both
houses by small majorities. This act
was immediately followed by an amend
ment to the bill then depending before
the Senate for funding the debt of the
Union. The amendment was similar in
principle to that which had been un
successfully proposed in the House of
Representatives. By its provisions,
twenty-one millions five hundred thou
sand dollars of the State debts were as
sumed in specified proportions ; and it
was particularly enacted that no certifi
cate should be received from a State
creditor which could be " ascertained to
have been issued for any purpose other
than compensations and expenditures
for services or supplies towards the
prosecution of the late war, and the de
fence of the United States, or of some
part thereof, during the same."
When the question was taken in
the House of Representatives on this
amendment, two members, represent
ing districts on the Potomac, who, in
all the previous stages of the business,
had voted against the assumption, de
clared themselves in its favor ; and thus
the majority was changed.*

o It has ever been understood that these members
were, on principle, in favor of the assumption as modi-

Thus was a measure carried which
was supported and opposed with a de
gree of zeal and earnestness not often
manifested ; and which furnished presa
ges, not to be mistaken, that the spirit
with which the opposite opinions had
been maintained, would not yield, con
tentedly, to the decision of a bare ma
jority. This measure has constituted
one of the great grounds of accusation
against the first administration of the
general government ; and it is fair to
acknowledge, that though, in its pro
gress, it derived no aid from the presi
dent, whose opinion remained in his
own bosom, it received the full appro
bation of his judgment.
A bill, at length, passed both houses,
funding the debt upon principles which
lessened considerably the weight of the
public burdens, and was entirely satis
factory to the public creditors. The
proceeds of the sales of the lands lying
in the western territory, and, by a sub
sequent act of the same session, the
surplus product of the revenue, after
satisfying the appropriations which
were charged upon it, with the addition
of two millions, which the president
was authorized to borrow at five per
centum, constituted a sinking fund to
be applied to the reduction of the debt.
The effect of this measure was great
fled in the amendment made by the Senate ; but they
withheld their assent from it when originally proposed
in the House of Representatives, in the opinion that the
increase of the national debt added to the necessity of
giving to the departments of the national government a
more central residence. It is understood that a greater
number would have changed had it been necessary.

436

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

and rapid. The public paper suddenly
rose, and was for a short time above
par. The immense wealth which indi
viduals acquired by this unexpected ap
preciation, could not be viewed with
indifference. Those who participated in
its advantages, regarded the author of
a system to which they were so greatly
indebted, with an enthusiasm of attach
ment to which scarcely any limits were
assigned. To many others, this adven
titious collection of wealth in particular
hands, was a subject rather of chagrin
than of pleasure ; and the reputation
which the success of his plans gave to
the secretary of the treasury, was not
contemplated with unconcern. As if
the debt had been created by the exist
ing government, not by a war which
gave liberty and independence to the
United States, its being funded was as
cribed by many, not to a sense of jus
tice, and to a liberal and enlightened
policy, but to the desire of bestowing
on the government an artificial strength,
by the creation of a moneyed interest'
which would be subservient to its will.
The effects produced by giving the
debt a permanent value, justified the
predictions of those whose anticipations
had been most favorable. The sudden
increase of moneyed capital derived
from it, invigorated commerce, and
gave a new stimulus to agriculture.
About this time there was a great
and visible improvement in the circum
stances of the people. Although the
funding system was certainly not in
operative in producing this improve

ment, it cannot be justly ascribed to
any single cause. Progressive industry
had gradually repaired the losses sus
tained by the war ; and the influence of
the constitution on habits of thinking
and acting, though silent, was consider
able. In depriving the States of the
power to impair the obligation of con
tracts, or to make any thing but gold
and silver a tender in payment of debts,
the conviction was impressed, on that
portion of society which had looked to
the government for relief from embar
rassment, that personal exertions alone
could free them from difficulties; and
an increased degree of industry and
economy was the natural consequence
of this opinion.*
Various other matters, besides those
already noticed, occupied the attention
of Congress during this laborious ses
sion. The question of the slave trade
was brought up by a petition from the
Quakers in Pennsylvania, Delaware, and
other States, and the venerable Dr.
Franklin, as president of the Pennsyl
vania Society for Promoting the Aboli
tion of Slavery, sent in a memorial,
early in February, asking the serious
attention of Congress to the importance
and duty of extending to the negroes
the blessings of freedom. The subject
was discussed at great length, and with
much warmth on both sides; and to
wards the close of March it was re
solved, "that Congress have no author
ity to interfere in the emancipation of

Marshall.

Chap. III.]

DEATH OF DR. FRANKLIN.

437

IT90.

slaves, or in the treatment of them
within any of the States." Laws for
the naturalization of aliens, after
two years' residence, for the pat
enting of useful inventions, and for se
curing to authors the copyright of their
works ; and others, regulating the mer
cantile marine of the Union, in respect
to the seamen engaged in it ; and form
ing a groundwork for a criminal code ;
for the ordering of what was called "the
military establishment," only twelve
hundred and sixteen rank and file ; and
for arranging the means of intercourse
with the Indians in respect to trade
and the acquisition of their hunting-
grounds, and with European govern
ments for the larger commerce which re
quired the superintendence of resident
ministers ; — these were duly considered
and framed. Much other business was
done, such as voting for the public
service, under the heads of the civil
list, pensions for revolutionary services,
the military establishment, lighthouses,
embassies, and outstanding debts, the
moderate sum of about seven hundred
and twenty-five thousand dollars.
Both Houses, having returned thanks
to the corporation of the city of New
York, " for the elegant and conven
ient accommodations furnished the Con
gress of the United States," adjourned,
on the 12th of August, to meet again
in December, in the city of Phila
delphia. Washington's old and valued friend,
Dr. Franklin, after painful and pro
tracted sufferings, closed a fife of four-
Vol. IL— 56

score and four years on the 17th of
April, 1790. He was buried in the
cemetery of Christ Church, Philadel
phia, and his funeral was attended by
more than twenty thousand of his fel
low-citizens. Congress resolved to wear
the customary badge of mourning for
one month, "as a mark of veneration
due to the memory of a citizen, whose
native genius was not more an orna
ment to human nature, than his various
exertions of it have been precious to
science, to freedom, and to his country."
In the National Assembly of France,
Mirabeau eloquently dilated in praise
of the illustrious deceased, and Lafa
yette seconded the motion for a decree,
ordering the members to wear the usual
badge of mourning for three days ; and
there was not a land blessed with the
light of civilization which did not la
ment his death, and pour forth expres
sions of sorrow for the loss which not
only America, but the world had sus
tained. An act was passed by Congress to
accept the cession of the claims of the
State of North Carolina, to a certain
district of western territory; and on
the 20th of May, provision was made
for its government, under the title of
"The Territory of the United States
south of the River Ohio."
On the 29th of May, 1790, Rhode
Island, having become somewhat more
alive to her true interests, and to the ill
results which must certainly follow her
exclusion from the Union, adopted the
constitution, and cast in her lot with

438

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the sister States, for the great future
which was opening before them all.
A treaty of peace was concluded in
August of this year with the Creek In
dians, which restored tranquillity to the
people of Georgia. The pacific over
tures made to the Indians of the Wa
bash and the Miamis had not been
equally successful. The western fron
tiers were still exposed to their incur
sions; and there was much reason to
apprehend that the people of Kentucky
and of the western counties of the Mid
dle States, could only be relieved from
the horrors of savage warfare by an ex
ertion of the military strength of the
Union. In the opinion of the president,
the emergency required the immediate
employment of a force competent to
the object, and which should carry ter
ror and destruction into the heart of
the hostile settlements. The people of
the West, however, declared their opin
ion in favor of desultory military expe
ditions, and Congress indulged their
wishes. The desire of the executive
for a military establishment equal to
the exigency was not regarded, and the
distresses of the frontier inhabitants
therefore still continued.
The conduct of Spain in relation to
the disputed boundary, and its preten
sions to the navigation of the Mississippi,
was such as to give ground to fear that
its dispositions towards the United
States were unfriendly. Between the
United States and England, the non-
execution of several articles of the
treaty of peace still furnished matter

for reciprocal crimination, which there
was the more difficulty in removing
because there was no diplomatic inter
course maintained between them. Un
der the old government, Mr. Adams'
mission had been treated with neglect,
and the new administration was not dis
posed to subject itself to a similar mark
of disrespect. Mr. Gouverneur Morris
was instructed, as an informal agent to
the British government, to sound its
views respecting amicable and perma
nent arrangements of the matters in
dispute. But Mr. Morris remarked,
" that there never was, perhaps, a mo
ment in which this country (Britain)
felt herself greater, and, consequently,
it is the most unfavorable moment to
obtain advantageous terms from her in
any bargain." He conducted his mis
sion with ability and address, but was
unable to bring it to a satisfactory con
clusion. The communications laid be
fore the American government at the
same time by Major Beckwith, an En
glish gentleman, who had come in an
informal manner to learn the disposi
tions of the American government to
wards England and Spain, between
which a rupture was expected, gave
Washington an insight of the object of
the delays which had been practised
with Mr. Morris. He was persuaded
that a disposition existed in the cabinet
of London to retain things in their ac
tual situation until the intentions of the
American government should be ascer
tained with respect to the war sup
posed to be approaching. If America

Chap. III.]

HIS FINAL DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK.

439

would make a common cause with
Great Britain against Spain, the way
would be smoothed to the attainment
of all their objects; but if America
should incline towards Spain, no adjust
ment of the points of difference be
tween the two nations would be made.
He therefore determined to hold him
self free to pursue without reproach, in
the expected war, such a course as the
interest and honor of the United States
might dictate. The want of official au
thenticity in the communications of Mr.
Beckwith was, therefore, signified to
that gentleman as a reason for reserve
on the part of the government, and the
powers given to Mr. Morris were with
drawn. It was determined that things
should remain in their actual situation
until a change of circumstances should
require a change of conduct. Scarcely
had this resolution been adopted, when
the dispute between Britain and Spain
was adjusted, and thus both the fear of
inconveniences, and the hope of advan
tages which might result to America
from war between the two powers, were
terminated. By his incessant application to public
business, and the consequent change of
active for sedentary habits, the consti
tution of the president seemed much
impaired, and during the second session
of Congress he had, for the second time
since entering upon the duties of his
office, been attacked by a severe dis
ease, which reduced him to the brink
of the grave. Exercise, and a tempo
rary relief from the cares of office, being

essential to the restoration of his health,
he determined, for the short interval
afforded by the recess of the legislature,
to retire from the fatigues of public life
to the tranquil shades of Mount Ver
non. Previously, however, he made a
visit to Rhode Island, which, not hav
ing been a member of the Union at the
time of his late tour through New En
gland, had not been visited by him at
that time.
His final departure from New York
was not less affecting than his arrival
had been, when he came to assume the
reins of government. "It was always
his habit," says Custis in his ' Recollec
tions,' " to endeavor to avoid the mani
festations of affection and gratitude that
met him everywhere. He strove in
vain — he was closely watched, and the
people would have their way. He
wished to slip off unobserved from
New York, and thus steal a march
upon his old companions in arms. But
there were too many of the dear glo
rious old veterans of the Revolution at
that time of day in and near New York
to render such an escape possible.
"The baggage had all been packed
up ; the horses, carriages, and servants
ordered to be over the ferry to Paulus
Hook by daybreak, and nothing was
wanting for departure but the dawn.
The lights were yet burning, when the
president came into the room where his
family were assembled, evidently much
pleased in the belief that all was right,
when, immediately under the windows,
the band of the artillery struck up

440

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Washington's March. 'There,' he ex
claimed, 'it's all over; we are found
out. Well, well, they must have their
own way.' New York soon after ap
peared as if taken by storm, — troops
and persons of all descriptions hurrying
down Broadway towards the place of
embarkation, all anxious to take a last
look on him whom so many could never
expect to see again.
" The embarkation was delayed until
all the complimentary arrangements
were completed. The president, after
taking leave of many dear and cher
ished friends, and many an old com
panion in arms, stepped into the barge
that was to convey him from New
York forever. The coxswain gave the
word ' let fall ;' the spray from the oars
sparkled in the morning sunbeams ; the
bowman shoved off from the pier, and,
as the barge swung round to the tide,
Washington rose, uncovered, in the
stern, to bid adieu to the masses as
sembled on the shore ; he waved his
hat, and, in a voice tremulous from
emotion, pronounced — Farewell. It may
be supposed that Major Bauman, who
commanded the artillery on this inter
esting occasion, who was first captain of
Lamb's regiment, and a favorite officer
of the war of the Revolution, would,
when about to pay his last respects to
his beloved commander, load his pieces
with something more than mere blank
cartridges. But ah ! the thunders of
the cannon were completely hushed
when the mighty shout of the people
arose that responded to the farewell of

Washington. Pure from the heart it
came ; right up to Heaven it went, to
call down a blessing upon the Father
of his Country.
" The barge had scarcely gained the
middle of the Hudson, when the trump
ets were heard at Paulus Hook, where
the governor and the chivalry of Jersey
were in waiting to welcome the chief
to those well-remembered shores. Es
corts of cavalry relieved each other
throughout the whole route, up to the
Pennsylvania line ; every village, and
even hamlet, turned out its population
to greet with cordial welcome the man
upon whom all eyes were fixed, and in
whom all hearts rejoiced.
" What must have been the recollec
tions that crowded on the mind of
Washington during this triumphant
progress ! Newark, Brunswick, Prince
ton, Trenton ! What a contrast be
tween the glorious burst of sunshine
that now illumined and made glad
every thing around these memorable
spots, with the gloomy and desolate
remembrances of '76! Then his coun
try's champion, with the wreck of a
shattered host, was flying before a vic
torious and well-appointed foe, while
all around him was shrouded in the
darkness of despair ; now, in his glori
ous progress over the self-same route,
his firm footstep presses upon the soil
of an infant empire, reposing in the
joys of peace, independence, and hap
piness. " Among the many who swelled his
triumph, the most endeared to the

Chap. HI.]

HIS RECEPTION AT PHILADELPHIA.

441

heart of the chief were the old associ
ates of his toils, his fortunes, and his
fame. Many of the revolutionary vet
erans were living in 1790, and, by their
presence, gave a dignified tone and
character to all public assemblages ;
and when you saw a peculiarly fine-
looking soldier in those old days, and
would ask, ' To what corps of the Amer
ican army did you belong ?' drawing
himself up to his full height, with a
martial air, and back of the hand
thrown up to his forehead, the veteran
would reply, ' Life Guard, your honor.'
" And proud and happy were these
veterans in again beholding their own
good Lady Washington. Greatly was
she beloved in the army. Her many
intercessions with the chief for the par
don of offenders — her kindness to the
sick and wounded — all caused her an
nual arrival in camp to be hailed as an
event that would serve to dissipate the
gloom of the winter-quarters.
" Arrived at the line, the Jersey es
cort was relieved by the cavalry of
Pennsylvania, and, when near to Phila
delphia, the president was met by Gov
ernor Mifflin and a brilliant cortege of
officers, and escorted by a squadron of
horse to the city. Conspicuous among
the governor's suite, as well for his mar
tial bearing as for the manly beauty of
his person, was General Walter Stew
art, a son of Erin, and a gallant and
distinguished officer of the Pennsylvania
line. To Stewart, as to Cadwallader,
Washington was most warmly attached;
indeed, those- officers were among the

very choicest of the contributions of
Pennsylvania to the army and cause of
independence. Mifflin, small in stature,
was active, alert, ' every inch a soldier.'
He was a patriot of great influence in
Pennsylvania in the 'times that tried
men's souls,' and nobly did he exert
that influence in raising troops, with
which to reinforce the wreck of the
grand army at the close of the cam
paign of '76.
" Arrived within the city, the crowd
became intense : the president left
his carriage and mounted the white
charger ; and, with the governor on his
right, proceeded to the city tavern in
Third-street, where quarters were pre
pared for him, the light infantry, after
some time, having opened a passage for
the carriages. At the city tavern the
president was received by the authori
ties of Philadelphia, who welcomed the
chief magistrate to their city as to his
home for the remainder of his presi
dential term. A group of old and
long-tried friends were also in waiting.
Foremost among these, and first to
grasp the hand of Washington, was
one who was always nearest to his
heart, a patriot and public benefactor,
Robert Morris.
"After remaining a short time in
Philadelphia, the president speeded on
his journey to that home where he ever
found rest from his weighty labors, and
enjoyed the sweets of rural and do
mestic happiness amid his farms and at
his fireside of Mount Vernon."
Whenever Washington was residing

442

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

at Mount Vernon, he was accustomed
to receive visits from his old and inti
mate friends, and to relieve his mind
from the cares of state by lively and
familiar conversation, and social and
convivial intercourse. On one occasion,
some years before the period of which
we are now writing,* Mr. Drayton and
Mr. Izard, of South Carolina, were on a
visit to Mount Vernon. After dinner,
while the party were still sitting at
table, the conversation turned on
Arnold's treason. Mr. Lear, Washing
ton's private secretary, was present,
and after retiring, he wrote down in
his diary Washington's own account of
that remarkable incident in our history
in his own words. The extract from
Mr. Lear's diary has recently been pub
lished, for the first time, in Mr. Rush's
" Washington in Domestic Life." It is
as follows :
"After dinner, Washington was, in the
course of conversation, led to speak of
Arnold's treachery, when he gave the
following account of it, which I shall
put in his own words, thus : ' I confess
I had a good opinion of Arnold before
his treachery was brought to light ; had
that not been the case, I should have
had some reason to suspect him sooner,
for when he commanded in Philadel
phia, the Marquis Lafayette brought
accounts from France of the armament
which was to be sent to co-operate with
us in the ensuing campaign. Soon after

0 October 23d, 1786, was the date of Messrs. Drayton
and Izard's visit.

this was known, Arnold pretended to
have some private business to transact
in Connecticut, and on his way there
he called at my quarters ; and in the
course of conversation expressed a de
sire of quitting Philadelphia and joining
the army the ensuing campaign. I told
him that it was probable we should
have a very active one, and that if his
wound and state of health would per
mit, I should be extremely glad of his
services with the army. He replied
that he did not think his wound would
permit him to take a very active part ;
but still he persisted in his desire of
being with the army. He went on to
Connecticut, and on his return called
again upon me. He renewed his re
quest of being with me next campaign,
and I made him the same answer I had
done before. He again repeated that
he did not think his wound would per
mit him to do active duty, and inti
mated a desire to have the command
at West Point. I told him I did not
think that would suit him, as I should
leave none in the garrison but inva
lids, because it would be entirely cov
ered by the main army. The subject
was dropped at that time, and he re
turned to Philadelphia. It then ap
peared somewhat strange to me, that a
man of Arnold's known activity and
enterprise should be desirous of taking
so inactive a part. I however thought
no more of the matter. When the
French troops arrived at Rhode Island,
I had intelligence from New York that
General Clinton intended to make an

Chap. III.]

HIS ACCOUNT OF ARNOLD'S TREASON.

443

attack upon them before they could get
themselves settled and fortified. In con
sequence of that, I was determined to
attack New York, which would be left
much exposed by his drawing off the
British troops ; and accordingly formed
my line of battle, and moved down with
the whole army to King's ferry, which
we passed. Arnold came to camp at
that time, and having no command, and
consequently no quarters (all the houses
thereabouts being occupied by the ar
my), he was obliged to seek lodgings at
some distance from the camp. While
the army was crossing at King's ferry,
I was going to see the last detachment
over, and met Arnold, who asked me if
I had thought of any thing for him. I
told him that he was to have the com
mand of the light troops, which was a
post of honor, and which his rank in
deed entitled him to. Upon this infor
mation his countenance changed, and
he appeared to be quite fallen ; and
instead of thanking me, or expressing
any pleasure at the appointment, never
opened his mouth. I desired him to go
on to my quarters and get something to
refresh himself, and I would meet him
there soon. He did so. Upon his ar
rival there, he found Colonel Tilghman,
whom he took aside, and mentioning
what I had told him, seemed to express
great uneasiness at it — as his leg, he
said, would not permit him to be long
on horseback ; and intimated a great
desire to have the command at West
Point. When I returned to my quar
ters, Colonel Tilghman informed me of

what had passed. I made no reply
to it ; but his behavior struck me as
strange and unaccountable. In the
course of that night, however, I re
ceived information from New York that
General Clinton had altered his plan
and was debarking his troops. This in
formation obliged me likewise to alter
my disposition and return to my former
station, where I could better cover the
country. I then determined to comply
with Arnold's desire, and accordingly
gave him the command of the garrison
at West Point. Things remained in
this situation about a fortnight, when I
wrote to the Count Rochambeau, de
siring to meet him at some interme
diate place (as we could neither of us
be long enough from our respective
commands to visit the other), in order
to lay the plan for the siege of York-
town, and proposed Hartford, where I
accordingly went and met the count.
On my return, I met the Chevalier Lu
zerne towards evening within about fif
teen miles of West Point (on his way to
join the count at Rhode Island), which
I intended to reach that night, but he
insisted upon turning back with me to
the next public house ; where, in polite
ness to him, I could not but stay all
night, determining, however, to get to
West Point to breakfast very early. I
sent off my baggage, and desired Colo
nel Hamilton to go forward and inform
General Arnold that I would breakfast
with him. Soon after he arrived at
Arnold's quarters, a letter was deliv
ered to Arnold which threw him into

444

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[JOUOIS. V 1.

the greatest confusion. He told Colonel
Hamilton that something required his
immediate attendance at the garrison
which was on the opposite side of the
river to his quarters ; and immediately
ordered a horse, to take him to the
river ; and the barge, which he kept to
cross, to be ready ; and desired Major
Franks, his Aid, to inform me, when I
should arrive, that he was gone over
the river and would return immediately.
When I got to his quarters and did not
find him there, I desired Major Franks
to order me some breakfast ; and as I
intended to visit the fortifications, I
would see General Arnold there. After
I had breakfasted, I went over the river,
and inquiring for Arnold, the command
ing officer told me that he had not been
there. I likewise inquired at the sev
eral redoubts, but no one could give me
any information where he was. The im
propriety of his conduct, when he knew
I was to be there, struck me very for
cibly, and my mind misgave me ; but I
had not the least idea of the real cause.
When I returned to Arnold's quar
ters about two hours after, and told
Colonel Hamilton that I had not seen
him, he gave me a packet which had
just arrived for me from Colonel Jem-
mison, which immediately brought the
matter to light. I ordered Colonel
Hamilton to mount his horse and pro
ceed with the greatest dispatch to a
post on the river about eight miles be
low, in order to stop the barge if she
had not passed ; but it was too late. It
seems that the letter which Arnold

received which threw him into such
confusion was from Colonel Jemmison,
informing him that Andre was taken,
and that the papers found upon him
were in his possession. Colonel Jemmi
son, when Andre was taken with these
papers, could not believe that Arnold
was a traitor, but rather thought it was
an imposition of the British, in order to
destroy our confidence in Arnold. He,
however, immediately on their being
taken, dispatched an express after me,
ordering him to ride night and day till
he came up with me.' The express went
the lower road, which was the road by
which I had gone to Connecticut, ex
pecting that I would return by the
same route, and that he would meet
me ; but before he had proceeded far,
he was informed that I was returning
by the upper road. He then cut across
the country and followed in my track
till I arrived at West Point. He ar
rived about two hours after, and brought
the above packet. When Arnold got
down to the barge, he ordered his men,
who were very clever fellows and some
of the better sort of soldiery, to proceed
immediately on board the Vulture sloop
of war, as a flag, which was lying down
the river; saying that they must be
very expeditious, as he must return in
a short time to meet me, and promised
them two gallons of rum if they would
exert themselves. They did, according
ly ; but when they got on board the
Vulture, instead of their two gallons
of rum, he ordered the coxswain to be
called down into the cabin, and in-

Chap. III.]

HIS ACCOUNT OF ARNOLD'S TREASON.

445

formed him that he and the men must
consider themselves as prisoners. The
coxswain was very much astonished,
and told him that they came on board
under the sanction of a flag. He an
swered that that was nothing to the
purpose ; they were prisoners. But the
captain of the Vulture had more gen
erosity than this pitiful scoundrel, and
told the coxswain that he would take
his parole for going on shore to get
clothes, and whatever else was wanted
for himself and his companions. He
Vol. H.— 57

accordingly came, got his clothes, and
returned on board. When they got to
New York, General Clinton, ashamed of
so low and mean an action, set them all
at liberty.' "
This narrative, from the lips of Wash
ington himself, throws much additional
light on Arnold's treason. It is also
interesting to the general reader, as
affording a specimen of Washington's
style in conversation, when the events
of the Revolution formed the topic of
discourse.

DOCUMENT ILLUSTRATOG CHAPTER III.

FISHER AMES.
Fishee Ames, one of the most eloquent of
American statesmen and orators, was born at
Dedham, Massachusetts, April 9th, 1758, of very
respectable parents. Soon after the completion
of his twelfth year he was admitted to Harvard
College, with the reputation of uncommon tal
ents and attainments. Diligence, regularity, and
success marked his collegiate course of four years.
After receiving his degree, in 1774, the narrow
circumstances of his widowed mother compelled
him to postpone for several years the accom
plishment of his original purpose of studying the
law. In this interval he acted as an assistant
teacher in a public school, and continued to cul
tivate classical literature to the signal improve
ment of his taste and fancy. At length, in 1781,
he commenced the practice of the law with the
stock of knowledge which he had acquired in the
office of a member of the profession in Boston.
Opportunity soon occurred for the display of his
superior qualifications both as a speaker and
essay writer. The fame which followed his early
efforts conduced to place him in the Massachu
setts convention for ratifying the constitution,
in 1788. From this sphere, in which he made
a deep impression by some of his speeches, par
ticularly that on biennial elections, he passed to
the House of Representatives in the State legis
lature. Here he soon became so eminent as an
orator and man of business, that the voters of
the Suffolk district elected him their first repre
sentative in the Congress of the United States.
He had not been long in that assembly before
his friends and admirers were satisfied that they
had not overrated his abilities. He won there
the palm of eloquence, besides proving himself

equal to the discussion of the deepest subjects of
politics and finance, and the execution of the
most arduous committee labors. He remained
in Congress during eight years, the whole of
Washington's administration, which he con
stantly and zealously defended. "His speech
on the British treaty," says his distinguished
biographer, Dr. Kirkland, " was the era of his
political life. For many months he had been
sinking under weakness ; and, though he had
attended the long and interesting debate on the
question which involved the constitution and
the peace of the United States, it was feared he
would be unable to speak. But when the time
came for taking a vote so big with consequen
ces, his emotions would not suffer him to be
silent. His appearance, his situation, the mag
nitude of his subject, the force and the pathos
of his eloquence, gave this speech an extraordi
nary power over the feelings of the dignified
and numerous assembly who heard it. When
he had finished, a member in opposition moved
to postpone the decision of the question, that
they might not vote under the influence of a
sensibility which their calm judgment might
condemn." On the retirement of Washington,
Mr. Ames returned to his residence at Dedham,
where he occupied himself with the management
of his farm, and the practice of the law. The
latter he relinquished in a few years, owing to
the decline of his health ; but he felt too deep
an interest in the welfare of his country to with
draw his mind and pen from politics. He pub
lished a considerable number of essays, relating
chiefly to the contest between Great Britain and
revolutionary France, as it might affect Amer
ican liberty and prosperity. No writer evinced
more ardor for the success of Britain, or more

Chap. III.]

DOCUMENT.

447

horror of the character and tendencies of the
French despotism. In 1804, Mr. Ames was
chosen president of Harvard College, an honor
which he declined. When Washington died,
Mr. Ames, then a member of the council of the
commonwealth, was appointed to pronounce his
funeral eulogy before the legislature of Massa
chusetts. The injury which his constitution sus
tained in 1795, was never fully repaired. From
that period his health declined, until, at length,
after an extreme debility for two years, death
ended his sufferings. He expired July 4th, 1808 ;
and when the intelligence of this event was re
ceived, a public meeting of citizens was held, in
order to testify the general respect for his char
acter. His remains were carried to Boston,
where they were interred with honors such as
had not been before paid to those of any private
citizen. In 1809, his works were issued in a
large octavo volume, with prefatory notices of
his life and character, from the pen of the Rev.
Dr. Kirkland, president of Harvard College,

who had enjoyed his personal friendship and
intimacy. The volume is fraught with pro
found remarks, various historical lore, and elo
quent declamation. Although the political in
terest of most of the topics is gone, there re
mains much to captivate and reward attention,
in the richness of fancy, beauty of language, and
felicity of copious illustration which distinguish
almost every page. Fisher Ames left seven
children and a wife, to whom he was tenderly
attached. In person, he exceeded a little the
middle stature ; was well proportioned, and per
fectly erect. His features and countenance were
fine, and his manners easy and affable. Of his
delivery as an orator, his biographer states that
he did not systematically study the exterior
graces of speaking, but his attitude was firm,
his gesticulation natural and forcible, his voice
clear and varied, and his whole manner earnest
and expressive. According to the same author
ity, all the other efforts of his mind were prob
ably surpassed by his powers of conversation.

CH APTE R IV.
1790.
THE NATIONAL BAIK ESTABLISHED.
Washington's domestic affairs.— His letter to Mr. Lear respecting the presidential mansion.— His attention to
details. — He declines the offer of a house from the legislature of Pennsylvania. — His second letter to Mr. Lear
respecting the presidential mansion. — He takes Mr. Morris's house, paying the rent himself. — His modest and
economical style of living.— Letter to Mr. Lear about servants. — Letter about furniture. — Washington's interest
in the children connected with his family. — Washington attends a public dinner offered him by the citizens of Alex
andria. — He sets out for Philadelphia. — Arrives and occupies Mr. Morris's house. — Gayety of the city. — Wash-
ton's levees. — Last session of the first Congress under the constitution opens. — Washington's speech to Congress.
— Hamilton's plans for the establishment of public credit. — Duty on spirits. — Opposed by members from the
South and West. — Their arguments against it. — Substitutes proposed by them. — Arguments of the friends of the
bill. — General Jackson's motion to strike out is negatived, and the bill becomes a lave. — Hamilton proposes to
establish a national bank. — It is opposed by Madison and others.— Their arguments against it. — It is supported
by Fisher Ames, Elbridge Gerry, and others.— Their arguments. — The bill passes both houses of Congress.— De
bates on it in the cabinet. — Washington requires a written opinion from each member of the cabinet. — He con
siders the bill to be constitutional and signs it.— Vermont admitted to the Union.— Result of the census.— Mint
established.— Military establishment increased.— Appropriations.— Exports and imports.— Indian hostilities.—
Harmar's expedition.— Disastrous battle.— Deplorable condition of the frontiers.— Rising of Congress.— State of
parties.— Washington's judgment and skill in quieting the dissensions of his cabinet.

On his way from New York to Mount
Vernon, Washington stopped for a short
time, as we have seen, in Philadelphia.
While there he addressed a letter to
his private secretary, Mr. Lear, which
is interesting not only for the informa
tion it contains respecting his residence,
but from its illustrating that remark
able attention to the details of business,
which we have already had occasion to
notice. " After a pleasant journey," he writes,
" we arrived in this city on Thursday
last (September 2d, 1790), and to
morrow we proceed — if Mrs. Washing

ton's health will permit, for she has
been much indisposed since we came
here — towards Mount Vernon. The
house of Mr. Robert Morris had, pre
vious to my arrival, been taken by the
corporation for my residence* It is
the best they could get. It is, I be-
a This house was in Market-street, on the south side,
near Sixth-street. The market-house buildings then
reached only to Fourth-street ; the town in this street
extended westward scarcely so far as Ninth-street ; good
private dwellings were seen above Fifth-street ; Mr.
Morris's was perhaps the best ; the garden was well in
closed by a wall.— (Richard Rush, " Washington in Do
mestic Life," from Original Letters and Manuscripts :
Philadelphia, 1857).

Chap. IV.]

THE PRESIDENTIAL MANSION.

449

lieve, the best single house in the city.
Yet without additions it is inadequate
to the commodious acommodation of
my family. These additions I believe
will be made. The first floor contains
only two public rooms (except one for
the upper servants). The second floor
will have two public (drawing) rooms,
and with the aid of one room with a
partition in it, in the back building,
will be sufficient for the use of Mrs.
Washington and the children, and their
maids, besides affording her a small
place for a private study, and dressing-
room. The third story will furnish
you and Mrs. Lear with a good lodging-
room, a public office (for there is no
room below for one), and two rooms
for the gentlemen of the family. The
garret has four good rooms, which must
serve Mr. and Mrs. Hyde* — unless they
should prefer the room over the work
house — William, and such servants as
it may not be better to place in the
proposed additions to the back build
ing. There is a room over the stable
which may serve the coachman and
postillions; and there is a smoke-house,
which may possibly be more valuable
for the use of servants than for the
smoking of meats. The intention of
the addition to the back building is to
provide a servant's hall, and one or two
lodging-rooms for the servants. There
are good stables, but for twelve horses
only, and a coach-house, which will
hold all my carriages. Speaking of
* Mr. Hyde was butler.

carriages, I have left my coach to re
ceive a thorough repair, by the time 1
return, which I expect will be before
the first of December."
The legislature, meantime, had ap
propriated for his residence an elegant
house in South Ninth-street, which was
taken down a few years since, having
been occupied by the University ; and
other buildings were erected on the
same lot for the same purpose. But
Washington refused to occupy the house
offered by the State authorities, because
he would not live in a house which was
not hired and paid for by himself. He
was desirous, however, to have the rent
fixed before he entered the house, and
he wrote repeatedly to Mr. Lear from
Mount Vernon to ascertain what the
rent would be. On the 14th of No
vember, 1790, he wrote to Mr. Lear as
follows :
"I am, I must confess, exceedingly
unwilling to go into any house without
first knowing on what terms I do it ;
and wish that this sentiment could be
again hinted in delicate terms to the
parties concerned with me. I cannot,
if there are no latent motives which
govern in this case, see any difficulty in
the business. Mr. Morris has most as
suredly formed an idea of what ought
in equity to be the rent of the tenement
in the condition he left it; and with
this aid the committee ought, I con
ceive, to be as little at a loss in de
termining what it should rent for, with
the additions and alterations which are
about to be made, and which ought to

450

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

be clone in a plain and neat, not by any
means in an extravagant style ; because
the latter is not only contrary to my
wish, but would really be detrimental
to my interest and convenience, princi
pally because it would be the means of
keeping me out of the use and comforts
of the house to a late period, and be
cause the furniture and every thing else
would require to be accordant there
with ; besides making me j>ay an ex
travagant price, perhaps to accommo
date che alterations to the taste of an
other, or to the exorbitant rates of
workmen. "I do not know, nor do I believe, that
any thing unfair is intended by either
Mr. Morris or the committee ; but let
us for a moment suppose that the rooms
(the new ones I mean) were to be hung
with tapestry, or a very rich and costly
paper, neither of which would suit my
present furniture ; that costly ornaments
for the bow-windows, extravagant chim
ney-pieces, and the like, were to be
provided ; that workmen, from extrav
agance of the times, for every twenty
shillings' worth of work would charge
forty shillings ; and that advantage
should be taken of the occasion to new
paint every part of the house and build
ings ; would there be any propriety in
adding ten or twelve and a half per
cent, for all this to the rent of the house
in its original state for the two years
that I am to hold it ? If the solution
of these questions is in the negative,
wherein lies the difficulty of determin
ing that the houses and lots, when

finished according to the proposed plan,
ought to rent for so much ? When all
is done that can be done, the residence
will not be so commodious as the house
I left in New York ; for there (and the
want of it will be found a real incon
venience at Mr. Morris's) my office was
in a front room below, where persons
on business were at once admitted ;
whereas now they will have to ascend
two pair of stairs, and to pass by the
public rooms to go to it. Notwith
standing which, I am willing to allow
as much as was paid to Mr. Macomb,
and shall say nothing if more is de
manded, unless there is apparent ex
tortion, or the policy of delay is to see
to what height rents will rise before
mine is fixed. In either of these cases
I should not be pleased ; and to occupy
the premises at the expense of any pub
lic body, I will not.
"I had rather have heard that my
repaired coach was plain and elegant,
than rich and elegant."
The rent of Mr. Morris's house was
finally settled at three thousand dollars
a year, and at this rate it was occupied
by Washington till the expiration of
his second term as president, and his
final retirement to Mount Vernon.
Our readers will excuse us for dwell
ing a little longer on the domestic
arrangements of Washington, as dis
closed in his letters to Mr. Lear. These
details are not only curious and enter
taining, as showing the style of living,
half a century ago, but as exhibiting
the modest and economical style in

Chap. IV.]

LETTER ABOUT HIS SERVANTS.

451

which Washington chose to live; and
they refute the calumnies of his politi
cal enemies, who, a little later, charged
him with anti-republican state and
splendor in his style of living. One of
his letters to Mr. Lear relates to the
servants. "The pressure of business,"
he writes, " under which I labored for
several days before I left New York,
allowed me no time to inquire who of
the female servants it was proposed or
thought advisable to remove here, be
sides the wives of the footmen, James
and Fidas. With respect to Mr. Hyde
and his wife, if it is not stated on some
paper handed in by Mr. Hyde, it is
nevertheless strong on my recollection,
that his wife's services were put down at
one, and his own at two hundred dollars
per annum. I have no wish to part
with Mr. or Mrs. Hyde; first, because I
do not like to be changing, and second,
because I do not know where or with
whom to supply their places. On the
score of accounts, I can say nothing,
having never taken a comparative view
of his and Fraunces's; but I am ex
ceedingly mistaken if the expenses of
the second table, at which Mr. Hyde
presides, have not greatly exceeded
those of the tables kept by Fraunces,
for I strongly suspect (but in this I may
be mistaken) that nothing is brought
to my table of liquors, fruits, or other
luxuries, that is not used as profusely
at his. If my suspicions are unfounded,
I shall be sorry to have entertained
them ; and if they are not, it is at least
questionable whether under his suc

cessor the same things might not be
done ; in which case (if Hyde is honest
and careful, of which you are better
able to judge than I am), a change
without benefit might take place, which
is not desirable if they are to be re
tained on proper terms. I say they,
for if Mrs. Hyde is necessary for the
purposes enumerated in your letter,
and the cook is not competent to pre
pare the dessert, make cake, &c, I do
not see of what use Hyde will be, more
than William, without her. Fraunces,
besides being an excellent cook, know
ing how to provide genteel dinners, and
giving aid in dressing them, prepared
the dessert, made the cake, and did
every thing that is done by Hyde and
his wife together; consequently the ser
vices of Hyde alone are not to be com
pared with those of Fraunces ; and if
his accounts exceed those of Fraunces,
in the same seasons — four or five pounds
a week — and at the same time appear
fair, I shall have no scruple to acknowl
edge that I have entertained much
harder thoughts of him than I ought to
have done; although it is unaccount
able to me how other families, on twenty-
five hundred or three thousand dollars
a year, should be enabled to entertain
more company, or at least entertain
more frequently, than I could do for
twenty-five thousand dollars."
Respecting the furniture Washington
writes : " Mr. and Mrs. Morris have in
sisted upon leaving the two large look
ing-glasses which are in their best rooms,
because they have no place, they say,

452

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

proper to remove them to, and because
they are unwilling to hazard the taking
of them down. You will therefore let
them have, instead, the choice of mine ;
the large ones I purchased of the French
minister they do not incline to take, but
will be glad of some of the others.
They will also leave a large glass lamp
in the entry or hall, and will take one
or more of my glass lamps in lieu of it.
* * * * jy[YS Morris has a mangle (I
think it is called) for ironing clothes,
which, as it is fixed in the place where
it is commonly used, she proposes to
leave, and take mine. To this I have
no objection, provided mine is equally
good and convenient ; but if I should
obtain any advantages, besides that of
its being up and ready for use, I am not
inclined to receive it.
"I have no particular direction to
give respecting the appropriation of the
furniture. By means of the bow-win
dows the back rooms will become the
largest, and of course will receive the
furniture of the largest dining and
drawing rooms ; and in that case, though
there are no closets in them, there are
some in the steward's room, directly
opposite, which are not inconvenient.
There is a small room adjoining the
kitchen, that might, if it is not essen
tial for other purposes, be appropriated
for the Sevres china, and other things of
that sort, which are not in common use.
" Mrs. Morris, who is a notable lady
in family arrangements, can give you
much information on all the conven
iences about the house and buildings,

and I dare say would rather consider it
as a compliment to be consulted in
these matters, as she is so near, than a
trouble to give her opinion of them.
" I approve, at least, till inconvenience
or danger shall appear, of the large
table-ornaments remaining on the side
board, and of the pagodas standing in
the smallest drawing-room. Had I de
livered my sentiment from here, re
specting this fixture, that is the apart
ment I should have named for it.
Whether the green, which you have,
or a new yellow curtain, should be ap
propriated to the staircase above the
hall, may depend on your getting an
exact match, in color and so forth, of
the latter. For the sake of appear
ances, one would not, in instances of
this kind, regard a small additional
expense." In these letters, written to Mr. Lear
during Washington's residence at Mount
Vernon, in the autumn of 1790, he fre
quently refers to the children under
Mrs. Washington's care, who composed
a part of the family. In a letter, dated
October 3d, he requests Mr. Lear to
make inquiries respecting the schools
in Philadelphia, with a view to placing
Washington Custis, Mrs. Washington's
grandson, at the best. If the college is
under good regulations, he inquires if
it would not be better to put him there
at once. Again, in a letter dated Octo
ber 10th, after speaking of the proper
care and instruction of his niece, Miss
Harriet Washington, when he should
be established in Philadelphia, he refers

Chap. IV.]

THE NATIONAL BANK ESTABLISHED.

453

again to Washington Custis's education,
whom he had adopted as a son, and in
whom he appears to have taken great
interest* He also wishes inquiry to
be made as to the higher branches
taught at the college, with a view to
placing his nephews, George and Law
rence Washington, at that institution
in Philadelphia. Having studied the
languages, they are engaged, he adds,
under Mr. Harrow, in Alexandria, in
learning mathematics and French. In a
letter dated November 7th, 1790, Wash
ington expresses renewed anxiety re
specting the education of his adopted
son Washington Custis, who appears to
have been about eight years old at
this time, and discusses the question of
placing him at the college, if his age
will admit of it.
On the 17th of November, Washing
ton, writing from Mount Vernon to
Mr. Lear at Philadelphia, men
tions that he is just setting out
for Alexandria to a public dinner given
to him by the citizens of that place.
In his letter of November 23d, he dates
from a tavern on the road, about twelve
miles from Baltimore. He was then on
his journey from Mount Vernon to
Philadelphia, in his own travelling car
riage, with Mrs. Washington ; the chil
dren, and the servants in attendance on
the children, accompanying them in a
stage-coach, hired for their accommoda
tion.
• Mr. Custis was the writer of the Reminiscences
we have so frequently quoted. He died on the 10th of
October, 1857, aged 76 years.
Vol. II.— 58

1T90.

The party arrived in Philadelphia on
Saturday, the twenty-eighth of Novem
ber, and immediately took possession of
the house which had been hired for the
accommodation of the president and
his family. The members of Congress,
and other public functionaries, were
mostly at their posts, and a crowd ot
strangers were resorting to the city, in
expectation of the gay and brilliant
pleasures and society which are usual
in the metropolis in the winter season.
In the president's family, "the rules
for receiving visitors and entertaining
company," says Dr. Griswold,f " contin
ued to be very nearly the same as in
New York. Respectable citizens and
strangers, properly introduced, were
seen by the president every other Tues
day, between the hours of three and
four in the afternoon. The receptions
were in the dining-room, on the first
floor, in the back part of the house.
At three o'clock, all the chairs having
been removed, the door was opened,
and the president, usually surrounded
by members of his cabinet, or other
distinguished men, was seen by the ap
proaching visitor standing before the
fireplace, his hair powdered and gath
ered behind in a silk bag, coat and
breeches of plain black velvet, white
or pearl-colored vest, yellow gloves, a
cocked hat in his hand, silver knee
and shoe buckles, and a long sword,
with a finely-wrought and glittering
steel hilt, the coat worn over it, and
f Republican Court.

454

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

its scabbard of polished white leather.
On these occasions he never shook
hands, even with his most intimate
friends. The name of every one was
distinctly announced, and he rarely for
got that of a person who had been
once introduced to him. The visitor
was received with a dignified bow, and
passed on to another part of the room.
At a quarter past three the door was
closed, the gentlemen present moved
into a circle, and he proceeded, begin
ning at his right-hand, to exchange a
few words with each. When the cir
cuit was completed, he resumed his
first position, and the visitors ap
proached him in succession, bowed, and
retired. " At the levees of Mrs. Washington
he did not consider any visits made to
himself, and he appeared as a private
gentleman, with neither hat nor sword,
conversing without restraint, generally
with women, who rarely had other op
portunities of meeting him."
Congress assembled for its third ses
sion on the 6th of December, 1790, the
day which had been appointed by ad
journment. But the members had not
yet learned to be punctual in their at
tendance ; and it was not till the 8th
that a sufficient number took their seats
to authorize their entering upon the
business of the session. Among the
members we recognize some celebrated
names. From Massachusetts were El-
bridge Gerry, afterwards vice-president
of the United States, and Fisher Ames,
one of the most illustrious of American

orators ; from Connecticut, the veteran
statesman Roger Sherman ; from New
Jersey, the philanthropist, Elias Boudi-
not ; from Pennsylvania, Peter and
Frederick Augustus Muhlenberg* and
George Clymer ; from Virginia, James
Madison ; from North Carolina, Hugh
Williamson ; and from Georgia, Gener
al James Jackson.f This is but a por
tion of the strong array of historical
names which adorned the first Congress
of the United States under the consti
tution. In his speech delivered to Congress
at the commencement of their third
session, Washington expressed much
satisfaction at the favorable prospect of
public affairs ; and particularly noticed
the progress of public credit, and the
productiveness of the revenue.
Adverting to foreign nations, he said :
" The disturbed situation of Europe,
and particularly the critical posture of
the great maritime powers, whilst it
ought to make us more thankful for the
general peace and security enjoyed by
the United States, reminds us at the
same time of the circumspection with
which it becomes us to preserve these
blessings. It requires, also, that we
should not overlook the tendency of a
war, and even of preparations for war,
among the nations most concerned in
active commerce with this country, to
abridge the means, and thereby at least
to enhance the price, of transporting its

• See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.
t See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.

Chap. IV.]

THIRD SESSION OF CONGRESS.

455

valuable productions to their proper
market." To the serious reflection of
Congress was recommended the preven
tion of embarrassments from these con
tingencies, by such encouragement to
American navigation as would render
the commerce and agriculture of the
United States less dependent on foreign
bottoms. After expressing to the House of
Representatives his confidence arising
from the sufficiency of the revenues al
ready established, for the objects to
which they were appropriated, he add
ed : " Allow me moreover to hope that
it will be a favorite policy with you
not merely to secure a payment of the
interest of the debt funded, but, as far
and as -fast as the growing resources of
the country will permit, to exonerate it
of the principal itself." Many subjects
relative to the interior government
were succinctly and briefly mentioned ;
and the speech concluded with the fol
lowing impressive and admonitory sen
timent : " In pursuing the various and
weighty business of the present session,
I indulge the fullest persuasion that
your consultations will be marked with
wisdom, and animated by the love of
country. In whatever belongs to my
duty, you shall have all the co-opera
tion which an undiminished zeal for its
welfare can inspire. It will be happy
for us both, and our best reward, if, by
a successful administration of our re
spective trusts, we can make the estab
lished government more and more in
strumental in promoting the good of

our fellow-citizens, and more and more
the object of their attachment and con
fidence." The addresses of the two houses, in
answer to the speech, proved that the
harmony between the executive and
legislative departments, with which the
government had gone into operation,
had sustained no essential interruption.
But in the short debate which took
place on the occasion, in the House of
Representatives, a direct disapproba
tion of one of the measures of the ex
ecutive government was, for the first
time, openly expressed.
In the treaty lately concluded with
the Creek Indians, an extensive terri
tory claimed by Georgia, under treaties,
the validity of which was contested
by the chiefs, had been entirely, or in
great part, relinquished. This relin
quishment excited serious discontents in
that State ; and was censured by Gen
eral Jackson with considerable warmth,
as an unjustifiable abandonment of the
rights and interests of Georgia. No
specific motion, however, was made,
and the subject was permitted to pass
away for the present.
Scarcely were the debates on the ad
dress concluded, when several interest
ing reports were received from Hamil
ton, the secretary of the treasury, sug
gesting such further measures as were
deemed necessary for the establishment
of public credit.
It will be recollected, that in his
original report on this subject, the sec
retary had recommended the assump-

456

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

tion of the State debts ; and had pro
posed to enable the treasury to meet
the increased demand upon it, which
this measure would occasion, by an
augmentation of the duties on imported
wines, spirits, tea, and coffee, and by
imposing duties on spirits distilled
within the country. The assumption
not having been adopted until late in
the session, the discussion on the reve
nue which would be required for this
portion of the public debt, did not com
mence until the House had become im
patient for an adjournment. As much
contrariety of opinion was disclosed,
and the subject was not of immediate
importance, it was deferred to the en
suing session ; and an order was made,
requiring the secretary of the treasury
to prepare and report such further pro
vision as might, in his opinion, be ne
cessary for establishing the public cred
it. In obedience to this order, several
reports had been prepared, the first of
which repeated the recommendation of
an additional impost on foreign distilled
spirits, and of a duty on spirits distilled
within the United States. The estima
ted revenue from these sources was
eight hundred and seventy-seven thou
sand five hundred dollars, affording a
small excess over the sum which would
be required to pay the interest on the
assumed debt. The policy of the meas
ure was discussed in a well-digested
and able argument, detailing many mo
tives, in addition to those assigned in
his original report, for preferring the
system now recommended, to accumula

ted burdens on commerce, or to a di
rect tax on lands.
A new tax is the certain rallying
point for all those who are unfriendly
to the administration, or to the minister
by whom it is proposed. But that
recommended by the secretary con
tained intrinsic causes of objection
which would necessarily add to the
number of its enemies. All that pow
erful party in the United States which
attached itself to the local rather than
to the general government, would in
evitably contemplate any system of in
ternal revenue with jealous disapproba
tion. They considered the imposition
of a tax by Congress on any domestic
manufacture, as the intrusion of a for
eign power into their particular con
cerns, which excited serious apprehen
sions for State importance and for
liberty. In the real or supposed inter
ests of many individuals was also found
a distinct motive for hostility to the
measure. A large portion of the Amer
ican population, especially that which
had spread itself over the extensive
regions of the West, consuming im
ported articles to a very inconsiderable
amount, was not much affected by the
impost on foreign merchandise. But
the duty on spirits distilled within the
United States reached them, and conse
quently rendered them hostile to the
tax. A bill, which was introduced in pur
suance of the report, was op
posed with great vehemence by
a majority of the Southern and West-

1T91.

Chap. IV.]

THE EXCISE BILL IN CONGRESS.

457

ern members. By some of them it was
insisted that no sufficient testimony had
yet been exhibited, that the taxes al
ready imposed would not be equal to
the exigencies of the public. But, ad
mitting the propriety of additional bur
dens on the people, it was contended
that other sources of revenue, less ex
ceptionable and less odious than this,
might be pointed out. The duty was
branded with the hateful epithet of an
excise, a species of taxation, it was said,
so peculiarly oppressive as to be ab
horred even in England, and which was
totally incompatible with the spirit of
liberty. The facility with which it
might be extended to other objects,
was urged against its admission into
the American system ; and declarations
made against it by the Congress of
1775, were quoted in confirmation of
the justice with which inherent vices
were ascribed to this mode of collecting
taxes. So great was the hostility mani
fested against it in some of the States,
that the revenue officers might be en
dangered from the fury of the people ;
and in all it would increase a ferment
which had been already extensively
manifested. When required to produce a system
in lieu of that which they objected to,
the opponents of the bill alternately
mentioned an increased duty on im
ported articles generally, a particular
duty on molasses, a direct tax, a tax on
salaries, pensions, and lawyers ; a duty
on newspapers, and a stamp-act.
The friends of the bill contended,

that the reasons for believing the exist
ing revenue would be insufficient to
meet the engagements of the United
States, were as satisfactory as the na
ture of the case would admit, or as
ought to be required. The estimates
were founded on the best data which
were attainable, and the funds already
provided had been calculated by the
proper officer to pay the interest on
that part of the debt only for which
they were pledged. Those estimates
were referred to as documents from
which it would be unsafe to depart.
They were also in possession of official
statements showing the productiveness
of the taxes from the time the revenue
bill had been in operation ; and argu
ments were drawn from these, demon
strating the danger to which the infant
credit of the United States would be
exposed by relying on the existing
funds for the interest on the assumed
debt. It was not probable that the
proposed duties would yield a sum
much exceeding that which would be
necessary ; but should they fortunately
do so, the surplus revenue might be ad
vantageously employed in extinguishing
a part of the principal. They were
not, they said, of opinion that a public
debt was a public blessing, or that it
ought to be perpetuated.
An augmentation of the revenue be
ing indispensable to the solidity of the
public credit, a more eligible system
than that proposed in the bill , could
not, it was believed, be devised. Still
further to burden commerce would be

458

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

a hazardous experiment, which might
afford no real supplies to the treasury.
Until some lights should be derived
from experience, it behooved the legis
lature to be cautious not to lay such im
positions upon trade as might probably
introduce a spirit of smuggling, which,
with a nominal increase, would occasion
a real diminution of revenue. In the
opinion of the best judges, the impost
on the mass of foreign merchandise
could not safely be carried further for
the present. The extent of the mer
cantile capital of the United States
would not justify the attempt. Forci
ble arguments were also drawn from
the policy and the justice of multiply
ing the subjects of taxation, and diversi
fying them by a union of internal with
external objects.
Neither would a direct tax be advi
sable. The experience of the world
had proved that a tax on consumption
was less oppressive, and more produc
tive, than a tax on either property or
income. Without discussing the prin
ciples on which the fact was founded,
the fact itself was incontestable, that,
by insensible means, much larger sums
might be drawn from any class of men
than could be extracted from them by
open and direct taxes.
Against the substitution of a duty on
internal negotiations, it was said that
revenue to any considerable extent
could be collected from them only by
means of a stamp-act, which was not
less obnoxious to popular resentment
than an excise, would be less certainly

productive than the proposed duties,
and was, in every respect, less eligible.
The honor, the justice, and the faith
of the United States were pledged, it
was said, to that class of creditors for
whose claims the bill under considera
tion was intended to provide. No means
of making the provision had been sug
gested, which, on examination, would
be found equally eligible with a duty
on ardent spirits. Much of the public
prejudice which appeared in certain
parts of the United States against the
measure, was to be ascribed to their
hostility to the term " excise," a term
which had been inaccurately applied to
the duty in question. When the law
should be carried into operation, it
would be found not to possess those
odious qualities which had excited re
sentment against a system of excise. In
those States where the collection of a
duty on spirits distilled within the
country had become familiar to the
people, the same prejudices did not
exist. On the good sense and virtue
of the nation they could confidently
rely for acquiescence in a measure
which the public exigencies rendered
necessary, which tended to equalize the
public burdens, and which in its execu
tion would not be oppressive.
A motion made by General Jackson,
to strike out that section which imposed
a duty on domestic distilled spirits, was
negatived by thirty-six to sixteen ; and
the bill was carried by thirty-five to
twenty-one. Some days after the passage of this

Chap. IV.]

A NATIONAL BANK PROPOSED.

459

bill, another question was brought for
ward, which was understood to involve
principles of deep interest to the gov
ernment. Hamilton, the secretary of the treas
ury, had been the uniform advocate of
a national bank. Believing that such
an institution would be " of primary
importance to the prosperous adminis
tration of the finances, and of the
greatest utility in the operations con
nected with the support of public cred
it," he had earnestly recommended its
adoption in the first general system
which he presented to the view of Con
gress ; and, at the present session, had
repeated that recommendation in a
special report, containing a copious and
perspicuous argument on the policy of
the measure. A bill conforming to the
plan he suggested was sent down from
the Senate, and was permitted to pro
ceed, unmolested, in the House of Rep
resentatives, to the third reading. On
the final question, a great, and, it would
seem, an unexpected opposition was
made to its passage. Mr. Madison, Mr.
Giles, General Jackson, and Mr. Stone
spoke against it. The general utility
of banking systems was not admitted,
and the particular bill before the house
was censured on its merits ; but the
great strength of the argument was
directed against the constitutional au
thority of Congress to pass an act for
incorporating a national bank.
The government of the United States,
it was said, was limited; and the powers
which it might legitimately exercise

were enumerated in the constitution it
self. In this enumeration, the power
now contended for was not to be found.
Not being expressly given, it must be
implied from those which were given,
or it could not be vested in the govern
ment. The clauses under which it could
be claimed were then reviewed and
critically examined ; and it was con
tended that, on fair construction, no
one of these could be understood to
imply so important a power as that of
creating a corporation.
The clause which enables Congress
to pass all laws necessary and proper to
execute the specified powers, must, ac
cording to the natural and obvious
force of the terms and the context, be
limited to means necessary to the end
and incident to the nature of the speci
fied powers.. The clause, it was said,
was in fact merely declaratory of what
would have resulted by unavoidable
implication, as the appropriate, and as
it were technical, means of executing
those powers. Some members observed,
that " the true exposition of a necessary
mean to produce a given end, was that
mean without which the end could not
be produced."
The bill was supported by Mr. Ames,
Mr. Sedgwick, Mr. Smith, of South
Carolina, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Boudinot,
Mr. Gerry, and Mr. Vining.
The utility of banking institutions
was said to be demonstrated by their
effects. In all commercial countries
they had been resorted to as an instru
ment of great efficacy in mercantile

460

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

transactions ; and even in the United
States, their public and private advan
tages had been felt and acknowl
edged. Respecting the policy of the meas
ure, no well-founded doubt could be
entertained; but the objections to the
constitutional authority of Congress de
served to be seriously considered.
That the government was limited by
the terms of its creation, was not con
troverted ; and that it could exercise
only those powers which were conferred
on it by the constitution, was admitted.
If, on examination, that instrument
should be found to forbid the passage
of the bill, it must be rejected, though
it would be with deep regret that its
friends would suffer such an opportunity
of serving their country to escape for
the want of a constitutional power to
improve it.
In asserting the authority of the
legislature to pass the bill, it was con
tended that incidental as well as ex
press powers must necessarily belong to
every government: and that, when a
power is delegated to effect particular
objects, all the known and usual means
of effecting them must pass as inci
dental to it. To remove all doubt on
this subject, the constitution of the
United States had recognized the prin
ciple, by enabling Congress to make all
laws which may be necessary and proper
for carrying into execution the powers
vested in the government. They main
tained the sound construction of this
grant to be a recognition of an authority

in the national legislature, to employ
all the known and usual means for ex
ecuting the powers vested in the gov
ernment. They then took a compre
hensive view of those powers, and
contended that a bank was a known
and usual instrument by which several
of them were exercised.
After a debate of great length,
which was supported on both sides
with ability, and with that ardor which
was naturally excited by the import
ance attached by each party to the
principle in contest, the question was
put, and the bill was carried in the
affirmative by a majority of nineteen
votes. The point which had been agitated
with so much zeal in the House of Rep
resentatives, was examined with equal
deliberation by the executive. The
cabinet was divided upon it. Jefferson,
the secretary of state, and Randolph,
the attorney-general, conceived that
Congress had clearly transcended their
constitutional powers ; while Hamilton,
the secretary of the treasury, with
equal clearness, maintained the oppo
site opinion. The advice of each min
ister, with his reasoning in support of
it, was required in writing, and their ar
guments were considered by the presi
dent with all that attention which the
magnitude of the question, and the inter
est taken in it by the opposing parties,
so eminently required. This deliberate
investigation of the subject terminated
in a conviction that the constitution of
the United States authorized the meas-

Chap. P7.] EXPEDITION AGAINST NORTHWESTERN INDIANS.

461

1T90.

sure ; and the sanction of the executive
was given to the act.*
In February, 1791, Vermont, having,
in convention, adopted the constitution
of the United States, was admitted to
the Union. The result of the census
of the United States, which had been
ordered in 1790, was a total of three
million nine hundred and twenty-nine
thousand eight hundred and twenty-
seven souls, of whom six hundred and
ninety-seven thousand eight hundred
and ninety-seven were slaves.
Besides the establishment of the
Bank of the United States, and the pas
sage of the excise law, Congress
resolved upon having a mint
for the national coinage; it authorized
an increase of the army, and the raising
a military force to resist the Indians,
and provided for the maintenance of
these additional troops; it also appro
priated above one million two hundred
thousand dollars to various branches of
the public service, making the expenses
of the year four million dollars, part of
which had to be met by loans, since
the surplus of the former year had
been applied to the paying off part of
the national debt, as a former act of
Congress had directed. We may men
tion, in this connection, that the ex
ports of the year were computed to
amount to some nineteen million dol
lars, and the imports to about twenty
million dollars.
Among the last acts of the present

<* Marshall.

Congress, as already mentioned, was an
act to augment the military establish
ment of the United States.
The earnest endeavors of Washing
ton to give security to the northwest
ern fi'ontiers, by pacific- arrangements,
having been entirely unavailing, it be
came his duty to employ such other
means as were placed in his hands, for
the protection of the country. Con
firmed by all his experience in the
opinion that vigorous offensive opera
tions alone could bring an Indian war
to a happy conclusion, he had planned
an expedition against the hostile tribes
northwest of the Ohio, as soon as the
impracticability of effecting a treaty
with them had been ascertained.
General Harmar, a veteran of the
Revolution, who had received his ap
pointment under the former govern
ment, was placed at the head of the
federal troops. On the 30th of Sep
tember, he marched from Fort Wash
ington with three hundred and twenty
regulars. The whole army, when joined
by the militia of Pennsylvania and
Kentucky, amounted to fourteen hun^
dred and fifty-three men. About the
middle of October, Colonel Harden,
who commanded the Kentucky militia,
and who had been also a continental
officer of considerable merit, was de
tached at the head of six hundred
men, chiefly militia, to reconnoitre the
ground, and to ascertain the intentions
of the enemy. On his approach, the
Indians set fire to their principal vil
lage, and fled with precipitation to the

Voi,. II.— 59

462

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

woods. As the object of the expedi
tion would be only half accomplished,
unless the savages could be brought to
action and defeated, Colonel Harden
was again detached at the head of two
hundred and ten men, thirty of whom
were regulars. About ten miles west of
Chilicothe, where the main body of the
army lay, he was attacked by a party
of Indians. The Pennsylvanians, who
composed his left column, had pre
viously fallen in the rear ; and the
Kentuckians, disregarding the exer
tions of their colonel, and of a few
other officers, fled on the first appear
ance of the enemy. The small corps
of regulars commanded by Lieutenant
Armstrong made a brave resistance.
After twenty-three of them had fallen
in the field, the surviving seven made
their escape and rejoined the army.
Notwithstanding this check, the re
maining towns on the Scioto were re
duced to ashes, and the provisions laid
up for the winter were entirely de
stroyed. This service being accom
plished, the army commenced its march
towards Fort Washington. Being de
sirous of wiping off the disgrace which
his arms had sustained, General Harmar
halted about eight miles from Chili
cothe, and once more detached Colonel
Harden with orders to find the enemy
and bring on an engagement. His com
mand consisted of three hundred and
sixty men, of whom sixty were regulars
commanded by Major Wyllys. Early
the next morning this detachment
reached the confluence of the St.

Joseph and St. Mary, where it was
divided into three columns. The left
division, commanded by Colonel Har
den in person, crossed the St. Joseph,
and proceeded up its western bank.
The centre, consisting of the federal
troops, was led by Major Wyllys up
the eastern side of that river ; and the
right, under the command of Majoi
M'Millan, marched along a range of
heights which commanded the right
flank of the centre division. The col
unins had proceeded but a short dis
tance, when each was met by a consid
erable body of Indians, and a severe
engagement ensued. The militia re
trieved their reputation, and several of
their bravest officers fell. The heights
on the right having been, from some
cause not mentioned, unoccupied by
the American troops, the savages seized
them early in the action, and attacked
the right flank of the centre with great
fury. Although Major Wyllys was
among the first who fell, the battle was
maintained by the regulars with spirit,
and considerable execution was done
on both sides. At length the scanty
remnant of this small band, quite over
powered by numbers, was driven off
the ground, leaving fifty of their com
rades, exclusive of Major Wyllys and
Lieutenant Farthingham, dead upon the
field. The loss sustained by the militia
was also considerable. It amounted to
upwards of one hundred men, among
whom were nine officers. After an en
gagement of extreme severity, the de
tachment joined the main army, which

Chap. IV.l

CLOSE OF THE FIRST CONGRESS.

463

continued its march to Fort Wash
ington. General Harmar, with what propriety
it is not easy to discern, claimed the
victory. He conceived, not entirely
without reason, that the loss of a con
siderable number of men would be
fatal to the Indians, although a still
greater loss should be sustained by
the Americans, because the savages
did not possess a population from
which they could replace the warriors
who had fallen. The event, however,
did not justify this opinion.
The information respecting this expe
dition was quickly followed by intelli
gence stating the deplorable condition
of the frontiers. An address from the
representatives of all the counties of
Kentucky, and those of Virginia bor
dering on the Ohio, was presented to
the president, praying that the defence
of the country might be committed to
militia unmixed with regulars, and that
they might immediately be drawn out
to oppose "the exulting foe." To this
address the president gave a concilia
tory answer, but he understood too well
the nature of the service to yield to
the request it contained. Such were his
communications to the legislature, that
a regiment was added to the permanent
military establishment, and he was au
thorized to raise a body of two thou
sand men, for six months, and to ap
point a major-general, and a brigadier-
general, to continue in command so
long as he should think their services
necessary.

With the 3d of March, 1791, termi
nated the first Congress elected under
the constitution of the United States.
" The party denominated federal," says
Marshall, " having prevailed at the elec
tions, a majority of the members were
steadfast friends of the constitution, and
were sincerely desirous of supporting a
system they had themselves introduced,
and on the preservation of which, in
full health and vigor, they firmly be
lieved the happiness of their fellow-
citizens, and the respectability of the
nation, greatly to depend. To organize
a government, to retrieve the national
character, to establish a system of rev
enue, and to create public credit, were
among the arduous duties which were
imposed upon them by the political
situation of their country. With per
severing labor, guided by no inconsid
erable portion of virtue and intelligence,
these objects were, in a great degree,
accomplished. Out of the measures
proposed for their attainment, questions
alike intricate and interesting unavoid
ably arose. It is not in the nature of
man to discuss such questions without
strongly agitating the passions, and ex
citing irritations which do not readily
subside. "Had it even been the happy and
singular lot of America to see its na
tional legislature assemble uninfluenced
by those prejudices which grew out of
the previous divisions of the country,
the many delicate points which they
were under the necessity of deciding,
could not have failed to disturb this

464

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

enviable state of harmony, and to
mingle some share of party spirit with
their deliberations. But when the ac
tual state of the public mind was con
templated, and due weight was given
to the important consideration that, at
no very distant day, a successor to the
present chief magistrate must be elected,
it was still less to be hoped that the
first Congress could pass away without
producing strong and permanent dispo
sitions in parties, to impute to each
other designs unfriendly to the public
happiness. As yet, however, these im
putations did not extend to the presi
dent. His character was held sacred,
and the purity of his motives was
admitted by all. Some divisions were
understood to have found their way into
the cabinet. It was insinuated that be
tween the secretaries of state and of the
treasury, very serious differences had
arisen ; but these high personages were
believed to be equally attached to the
president, who was not suspected of un
due partiality to either. If his assent
to the bill for incorporating the national
bank produced discontent, the oppo
nents of that measure seemed disposed
to ascribe his conduct, in that instance,
to his judgment, rather than to any
prepossession in favor of the party by
whom it was carried. The opposition,
therefore, in Congress, to the measures
of the government, seemed to be levelled
at the secretary of the treasury, and at
the northern members by whom those
measures were generally supported, not
at the president by whom they were

approved. By taking this direction, it
made its way into the public mind,
without being encountered by that de--
voted affection which a great majority
of the people felt for the chief magis
trate of the Union. In the mean time,
the national prosperity was in a state 01
rapid progress ; and the government was
gaining, though slowly, in the public
opinion. But in several of the State
assemblies, especially in the southern
division of the continent, serious evi
dences of dissatisfaction were exhibited,
which demonstrated the jealousy with
which the local sovereignties contem
plated the powers exercised by the fed
eral legislature."
A recent writer, speaking of the dis
cussions in the cabinet respecting the
bill establishing a national bank, says :
" Jefferson and Randolph were of
opinion that Congress, in passing the
bill, transcended the powers vested in
them by the constitution. Hamilton,
on the other hand, maintained it to be
purely constitutional.
" It was not an easy task to unite two
men of such opposite natures as Hamil
ton and Jefferson, and make them act in
concert in the same cabinet. The criti
cal state of affairs at the first adoption
of the constitution, and the impartial
preponderance of Washington, alone
could accomplish it. He applied him
self to it with consummate perseverance
and wisdom. At heart, he felt a de
cided preference for Hamilton and his
views. ' By some,' said he, ' he is con
sidered an ambitious man and therefore

Chap. IV.]

STATE OF PARTIES.

465

a dangerous one. That he is ambitious I
readily grant, but his ambition is of that
laudable kind which prompts a man to
excel in whatever he takes in hand.
He is enterprising, quick in his percep
tions, and in his judgment intuitively
great.' "But it was only in 1798, in the free
dom of retirement, that Washington
spoke so explicitly. While in office,
and between his two secretaries, he
maintained towards them a strict re
serve, and testified the same confidence
in both. He believed both of them to
be sincere and able; both of them
necessary to the country and to him
self. Jefferson was to him, not only a
connecting tie, a means of influence with
the popular party which rarely became
the opposition ; but he made use of him
in the internal administration of his
government as a counterpoise to the
tendencies, and especially to the lan
guage, sometimes extravagant and in
considerate, of Hamilton and his friends.
He had interviews and consultations
with each of them separately, upon the
subjects which they were to discuss
together, in order to remove or lessen
beforehand their differences of opinion.
He knew how to turn the merit and
popularity of each, with his own party,
to the general good of the government,
even to their own mutual advantage.
He skilfully availed himself of every
opportunity to employ them in a com
mon responsibility. And when a dis
agreement too wide, and passions too

impetuous, seemed to threaten an im
mediate rupture, he interposed, used
exhortation and entreaty, and by his
personal influence, by a frank and
touching appeal to the patriotism and
right-mindedness of the two rivals, he
postponed the breaking forth of the
evil which it was not possible to eradi
cate. On the bank question, he re
quired from each his arguments in
writing, and after maturely weighing
them both, he gave the sanction of his
signature to the act passed by Congress
for its incorporation. From the mo
ment of the incorporation of the Bank
of the United States, parties assumed
the almost perfect forms of organiza
tion and principles by which they are
marked in our own day. The argu
ments and imputations of the republican
party, however, were not so much in
tended to apply to Washington and his
measures as to Hamilton, who was
considered and acknowledged by all as
the head of the federal party. This
fact was sufficiently proved when Wash
ington, at the close of the session of
Congress, made an excursion into the
Southern States. His reception by men
of all parties was ample testimony of
the fact that he united all hearts, and
that, however the measures or the con
stitution of government might be cen
sured and disapproved, none would
refuse to pour the grateful homage of
free hearts into the bosom of their vete
ran chief." Of this excursion we shall
give an account in the next chapter.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER IV.

[AJ
BRIGADIER-GENERAL PETER MUHLENBERG.
Petee Muhlenbekg was a native of Penn
sylvania, born in 1745. In early life he yielded
to the wishes of his venerable father, the pa
triarch of the German Lutheran Church in
Pennsylvania, by becoming a minister of the
Episcopal Church. Participating in the spirit
of the times, he exchanged his clerical pro
fession for that of a soldier. Having in his
pulpit inculcated the principles of liberty, and
the cause of his country, he found no difficulty
in enlisting a regiment of soldiers, and he was
appointed their commander. He entered the
pulpit with his sword and cockade, preached
his farewell sermon, and the next day marched
at the head of his regiment to join the army.
In the year IV 76 he became a member of the
convention, and afterwards a colonel of a regi
ment of Pennsylvania. In the year 1777 he was
appointed a brigadier-general in the revolution
ary army, in which capacity he acted until the
termination of the war which gave liberty and
independence to his country, at which time he
was promoted to the rank of major-general.
General Muhlenberg was a particular favorite
of the commander-in-chief, and he was one of
those brave men, on whose coolness, decision of
character, and undaunted resolution, he could
ever rely. It has been asserted, with some de
gree of confidence, that it was General Muhlen
berg who commanded the American storming
party at Yorktown, the honor of which station
has been attributed, by the different histories of
the American revolution, to another person.
It is, however, a well-known fact, that he acted

a distinguished and brave part at the siege of
Yorktown. After the peace, General Muhlenberg was
chosen by his fellow-citizens of Pennsylvania to
fill in succession the various stations of vice-
president of the supreme executive council of
Pennsylvania, member of the House of Repre
sentatives, and senator of the United States;
and afterwards appointed by the president of
the United States, supervisor of the excise in
Pennsylvania, and finally collector of the port of
Philadelphia, which office he held at the time
of his death. In all the above military and po
litical stations, General Muhlenberg acted faith
fully to his country and honorably to himself. He
was brave in the field, and firm in the cabinet.
In private life he was strictly just ; in his domes
tic and social attachments he was affectionate
and sincere ; and in his intercourse with his
fellow-citizens, always amiable and unassuming.
He died on the 1st day of October, 1807, in
the sixty-second year of his age, at his seat near
Schuylkill, Montgomery county, Pennsylvania.

PJ
MAJOR-GENERAL JAMES JACKSON.
James Jackson- was born in the county of
Devon, in England, in 1757. He came to this
country in 1772, under the patronage of John
Wareat, a leading whig of the city of Savannah,
Georgia. Here he commenced the study of the
law, in the office of that gifted attorney and
counsellor, Samuel Farley, Esq. Before he could
complete his studies, however, the troublesome
events of the Revolution called him to more
serious purposes. In 1775 he enlisted in the

Chap. IV.]

DOCUMENTS.

467

cause of the patriots, and shouldered his musket
as a private in the army of independence.
When Savannah was invested by the British,
in 1776, young Jackson, then only a lad, headed
a party of nine other brave spirits like himself,
boarded one of the enemy's ships lying in the
river, took possession of her, and then set fire
to her and suffered her to float down the river
in the midst of the inimical fleet, causing much
consternation and no small damage. In the
same year, he was made captain of a company
of light infantry ; and after holding this com
mission a few months, he was appointed a major
of brigade in the Georgia militia. After the
fall of Savannah, the patriots were reduced to
the greatest misery ; and Major Jackson, find
ing no employment in Georgia, resolved to
unite himself to General Moultrie's command
in South Carolina. He accordingly started on
foot and alone — penniless, barefoot, his ward
robe in tatters, but with a stout heart, onward
he went. Before he reached the army, how
ever, he was met by a party of American sol
diers, seized and carried into their camp, sum
marily tried, and found guilty of being a spy,
and ordered to immediate execution. This
order was only arrested by the timely arrival
of one who knew him.
In 1779 he was engaged in the unsuccessful
attack on Savannah, under Lincoln and D'Es
taing. In March, 1780, he fought a duel with
Lieutenant-Governor . Wells, whom he killed,
himself being shot through both knees. Per
sisting in his resistance to amputation, he was
abandoned by his surgeons. But his strong
constitution prevailed, and after many months
of misery and inaction, we find him once more
in the Georgia camp, in August, 17" 80. He
served with great gallantry in the following
campaign, under Sumpter and Twiggs. His
whole course, indeed, throughout the war, was
marked by acts of heroic daring, and wise and
energetic measures. Being commissioned with
a separate command, his legion acquired great
notoriety by its bold achievements, and won
the admiration of all the people of the South.
But we cannot follow his erratic and predatory
steps, for it would consume too much of our
space. He rose to the rank of lieutenant-

colonel before the close of the war ; and, on
his retiring from the army, the legislature of
Georgia ¦unanimously voted their thanks " for
his many great and useful services," and pre
sented him a house and lot in the city of Sa
vannah, " as a mark of the sense entertained by
them of his merits."
Soon after peace was ratified, Colonel Jack
son opened an office in Savannah, and com
menced the practice of law. In 1785 he was
married to Mary Charlotte Young, a daughter
of a deceased patriot. For several years he
served in the State legislature. In 1786 he
was made general of brigade, in which office
he rendered good service in repressing the out
rages of the Creek Indians on the seaboard of
his adopted State.
In 1788 he was elected governor of Georgia,
at the age of thirty years. But his mihtary
duties led him to decline this new honor. In
1789 he was elected to Congress, from the east
ern district of the State. In 1791 General
Wayne was elected in his place, and, contest
ing his seat, he lost it by the casting vote of
the speaker. He accused the judge who pre
sided at the polls of corruption, and secured a
sentence of deposition from office and total dis
qualification for any civil office for thirty years.
In 1792 he was again sent to the State legisla
ture, and the same year was made major-gen
eral. Late in the autumn of the same year, he
was elected a member of the Senate of the
United States, and took his seat in that digni
fied body in the following year. After serving
three years in the Senate, he was recalled by
the citizens of Savannah to become a member
of the legislature, where he took a prominent
part in the violent measures of that body in
reference to what has been called " the Yazoo
speculation." In 1798, Governor Jackson was a member of
the convention which framed the present consti
tution of Georgia ; and the same year he was
again chosen governor, which office he held
three years. In 1801 he was once more re
turned to the Senate of the United States, of
which body he remained a member until his
death, which occurred at Washington, on the
19th of March, 1806, at the age of forty-nine years.

CHAPTER Y.
1791—1792.
POLITICAL PARTIES DEVELOPED.
Washington appoints General St. Clair to conduct the expedition against the Indians. — His character. — The tour of
Washington through all the Southern States. — His reception at Annapolis. — His letter to Governor Pinckney. —
He goes from Georgetown to Mount Vernon. — Dines at Fredericksburg. — His reception in Richmond. — He passes
through North Carolina. — Grand reception and festivities at Charleston. — Reception at Savannah. — Visits the
widow of General Greene. — Reception at Augusta ;— Columbia ; — Camden. — Return to Mount Vernon. — His letter
to Hamilton. — To Gouverneur Morris. — Unsuccessful expeditions of Scott and Winchester against the Indians. —
Agency of the British in stimulating Indian hostilities. — Meeting of Congress. — Washington's speech. — Answered
by the two houses. — Debate on the apportionment bill. — Bill passed. — Washington vetoes it. — Another bill pre
pared, passed, and approved. — Act to establish «¦ uniform militia. — General St. Clair's battle with the Indians.
— His defeat and retreat. — Effect of the intelligence. — St. Clair's conduct investigated. — His acquittal. — Interest
ing anecdote of Washington related by Mr. Lear. — Washington authorized to raise five thousand men for the In
dian war. — Debate on that subject in Congress. — Hamilton's plans for raising revenue, discussed and carried. —
Development of political parties. — Charges of the opposition against the government, respecting salaries, levees,
the Indian war, and the waste of money. — Feud between Jefferson and Hamilton. — Washington's letters to them.
¦ — Resistance of the Pennsylvanians to the duty on spirits. — Minister from Great Britain arrives. — Indian hostili
ties continued. — Two officers, sent to treat with them, murdered. — Ministers sent to France and England, the
Hague, and Spain. — Death of Paul Jones. — Washington's letter to the Earl of Buchan. — Washington's visit to
Mount Vernon in May. — Second visit in July. — The cares and distractions he endured during this visit.— Corre
spondence with the heads of departments. — Newspaper abuse. — Letter to Randolph ; — To Morris. — Illness and
death of George Augustine Washington. — Washington invites his widow, with her three children, to reside at
Mount Vernon. — Washington returns to Philadelphia. — Meeting of Congress. — Washington's speech. — Motion
for the reduction of the public debt. — Outburst against Hamilton. — Giles's attack on him. — Hamilton's defence.
— His exculpation by a vote of Congress. — The whole session wasted in the attempt to break him down. — Other
acts of Congress. — Congress rises. — Views of the political parties.

"Washington, having received from
Congress more ample means for the
protection of the frontiers against the
Indians, now directed his attention to
an expedition which should carry the
war into their own country ;
this, as we have already seen,
being his favorite method of
dealing with Indian hostilities. He ac
cordingly appointed Major-general Ar
thur St. Clair, governor of the territory

March, 1791.

northwest of the Ohio, commander-in-
chief of the forces to be employed in
the meditated expedition. This officer .
had served through the war of the
Revolution with reputation, though it
had never been his fortune to distin
guish himself. The evacuation of Ti
conderoga had indeed, at one time,
subjected him to much public censure;
but it was found, upon inquiry, to be
unmerited. Other motives, in addition

Chap. V.]

WASHINGTON'S SOUTHERN TOUR.

469

to the persuasion of his fitness for the
service, induced Washington to appoint
him. "With the sword, the olive-branch
was still to be tendered ; and it was
thought advisable to place them in the
same hands. The governor, having
been made officially the negotiator
with the tribes inhabiting the terri
tories over which he presided, being a
military man, acquainted with the
country into which the war was to be
carried, possessing considerable influ
ence with the inhabitants of the fron
tiers, and being so placed as to super
intend the preparations for the expedi
tion advantageously, seemed to have
claims to the station which were not to
be overlooked. It was also a consid
eration of some importance, that the
high rank he had held in the American
array would obviate those difficulties in
filling the inferior grades with men of
experience, which might certainly be
expected should a person who had acted
in a less elevated station be selected
for the chief command.
After making the necessary arrange
ments for recruiting the army, "Wash
ington prepared to make his long-con
templated tour through the Southern
States. On the 19th of March, in writing to
Lafayette, he says : " The tender con
cern which you express on my late
illness, awakens emotions which words
will not explain, and to which your
own sensibility can best do justice. My
health is now quite restored, and I flat
ter myself with a hope of a long exemp-
Vol. II.— 60

tion from sickness. On Monday next I
shall enter on the practice of your
friendly prescription of exercise, intend
ing, at that time, to begin a journey to
the southward, during which I propose
visiting all the Southern States."
This tour le performed in his own
carriage, drawn by six horses, which
were not changed during the journey,
which occupied nearly three months.
He was accompanied by one of his pri
vate secretaries, Major Jackson. Leav
ing his residence in Market-street, Phil
adelphia, he set off, in the latter part of
March, and was escorted into Delaware
by Mr. Jefferson and General Knox.
On the 25th of March, he ar- 1 79 1
rived at Annapolis, where he
was met by the people in a body, en
tertained at public dinners and a ball,
and, after staying two days, was accom
panied on his journey by the governor
of Maryland, as far as Georgetown.
From this place, on the 29 th of
March, he writes to Governor Charles
Pinckney of South Carolina : " I had
the pleasure of receiving your Excellen
cy's obliging letter of the 8th instant
last evening. I am thus far on my tour
through the Southern States ; but as I
travel with only one set of horses, and
must make occasional halts, the pro
gress of my journey is exposed to such
uncertainty as admits not of fixing a
day for my arrival at Charleston.
"While I express the grateful sense
which I entertain of your Excellency's
polite offer to accommodate me at your
house during my stay in Charleston,

470

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

your goodness will permit me to deny
myself that pleasure. Having, with a
view to avoid giving inconvenience to
private families, early prescribed to
myself the rule of declining all invita
tions to quarters on my journeys, I
have been repeatedly uuder a similar
necessity to the present, of refusing
those offers of hospitality which would,
otherwise, have been both pleasing and
acceptable." From Georgetown he proceeded to
Mount Vernon, where the necessary at
tention to his private affairs, and some
important correspondence on public
business, detained him a week. Leav
ing Mount Vernon, and passing through
Fredericksburg, where he dined with
some of his old personal friends, he ar
rived at Richmond on the 11th of
April. His reception there was enthu
siastic. He entered the city amidst the
roar of cannon and the acclamations of
the crowds of people who lined the
streets through which he passed. In
the evening there was a grand illumi
nation ; and during the two days which
he remained there, the city was given
up to festivities in honor of the favorite
hero of Virginia. Similar tokens of
welcome were exhibited at Petersburg,
Halifax, Newburn, and "Wilmington.
On leaving the last-mentioned place, he
was rowed across Cape Fear River in
a splendid barge, by six masters of
vessels ; and on his arrival at Charles
ton (May 2d), a similar token of honor
was accorded to him on a larger scale.
From Hadrill's Point, attended by a

cortege of distinguished Carolinians, he
was conveyed to the city in a twelve-
oared barge, manned by thirteen cap
tains of American ships, while other
barges and boats, with bands of music
and decorations, formed an imposing
nautical procession. On landing, he
was received by Governor Pinckney,
the civic authorities, the Cincinnati,
and a brilliant military escort, who at
tended him in procession, amidst the
ringing of bells, the firing of cannon,
and the acclamations of the people, first
to the Exchange, where he was wel
comed in a formal address, and then to
the house prepared for his reception.*
During the week he remained in
Charleston, he received the most lively
and touching tokens of welcome and
affection from the warm-hearted Caro
linians, who strove to render him every
species of honor. A corporation ball
on a grand scale, a large dinner-party
at Governor Pinckney's mansion, an
other at Major Pierce Butler's, a con
cert, and a splendid public entertain
ment given by the merchants of the
city, formed a portion only of the
testimonials of homage and welcome
given on this occasion to their illustrious
guest. He left Charleston on the 9th of
May, escorted to Ashley Ferry by the
governor and a large cavalcade. " At
Perrysburg," says Dr. Griswold, "he
was met the next day by a committee
from Savannah, and, with General

s Griswold, Republican Court.

Chap. V.]

HIS RECEPTION AT SAVANNAH.

471

"Wayne, Major Butler, Mr. Baillie, and
Major Jackson, was conducted on board
a richly decorated boat, in which the
party were rowed down the river by nine
sea-captains, dressed in light-blue silk
jackets, black satin breeches, white silk
stockings, and round hats with black
ribbons, inscribed with ' Long live the
the President,' in golden letters. Ten
miles from the city they were met by
other barges, from one of which a com
pany of gentlemen sung the popular
song, ' He comes, the hero comes !' As
they drew near the harbor, every vessel
and all the shore were discovered to be
thronged with people. "When the presi
dent stepped on the landing, he was
received by General James Jackson,
who introduced him to the mayor and
aldermen ; and he was soon after con
ducted, in the midst of a procession,
through crowds of spectators, to the
house prepared for his accommodation
in St. James' Square. The same even
ing he dined with the city authorities,
and a large number of other gentlemen,
at Brown's Coffee House. Cannons were
fired during the day, and at night the
streets and the shipping were brilliantly
illuminated. On Friday he dined with
the Cincinnati of the State of Georgia,
and attended a ball. On Saturday, ac
companied by General Mcintosh, who
had been second in command, under
General Lincoln, in storming them, he
examined the remaining traces of the
lines constructed by the British for the
defence of Savannah in 1779, and dined
with two hundred citizens and strangers

under a beautiful arbor, supported by
numerous columns and ornamented with
laurel and bay leaves, erected on an
elevation which commanded a view of
the town and the harbor.
" It has been frequently said of
"Washington, that ' no man in the army
had a better eye for a horse,' and many
of his letters show that he was by no
means indifferent as to the qualities or
treatment of his stud, during the war
and afterwards. A tour of nineteen
hundred miles, with the same animals,
was a severe test of their capacities, and
before reaching Charleston he wrote to
Mr. Lear, that though, all things con
sidered, they had got on very well, yet
his horses were decidedly worsted, and
if brought back would ' not cut capers,
as they did on setting out.' On the thir
teenth of May, he says in a letter to the
same correspondent : ' I shall leave this
place to-morrow ; my horses, especially
the two I bought just before I left
Philadelphia, and my old white horse,
are much worn down, and I have yet
one hundred and fifty or two hundred
miles of heavy sand to pass before I
get fairly into the upper and firmer
road.' " On the way to Augusta he stopped
to dine with the widow of his old friend
and companion in arms, General Greene,
at her seat called Mulberry Grove. On
"Wednesday, the eighteenth, Governor
Telfair and the principal officers of the
State left the capital, with a numerous
train of citizens, and proceeded five
miles towards Savannah to meet hir x,

472

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

and he was conducted to his lodgings
accompanied by thousands of people,
who filled the air with joyous accla
mations. That day he dined with a
large party at the Grove, the governor's
private residence, near Augusta, where
Mrs. Telfair assembled the ladies of
the town to meet him at a ball in the
evening ; on Thursday he received and
answered an address from the people,
attended a public dinner, and was pres
ent at another ball ; on Friday he
visited the academy and dined again
with the governor; and on Saturday he
started again on his return, Augusta
being the furthest point of his journey.
" Coming again into South Carolina,
he was conducted to Columbia by Gen
eral "Winne, Colonel Wade Hampton,
and a large number of other citizens,
and the next day dined with more than
two hundred of the principal men and
women of the town and neighboring'
country at the State-house, and in the
evening attended a ball.
" On Wednesday, the twenty-fifth, he
dined at Camden, and on the followine
morning visited the grave of the Baron
de Kalb, the places where the British
redoubts had been erected, Hobkirk
Hill, where General Greene was attack
ed by Lord Rawdon, and the plains
where General Gates was engaged by
Lord Cornwallis in 1780. Passing
through Charlotte, Salisbury, Salem,
Guilford, and other towns, in all of
which the love and reverence of the
people were exhibited in every variety
of manner which taste and ingenuity

could suggest, he arrived at "Mount
Vernon on the twelfth of June.
"He remained at his seat between
three and four weeks, during which he
was occupied with his private affairs,
and, with Major L'Enfant and others,
with the location of the new seat of
government, on the banks of the Poto
mac. On Thursday, the last day of
June, he started for Philadelphia, by
way of Frederick, York, and Lancaster,
and arrived at the presidential residence
about noon on the sixth of July, having
been absent nearly three months ; and
during that period performed a journey
of eighteen hundred and eighty-seven
miles."* Washington was highly pleased with
the result of his observations during
this tour. In a letter to Hamilton
(June 13th), from Mount Vernon, on
his return, we have occasion to notice
the benefit he derived from his habits
of method and forethought in any
undertaking which he contemplated.
"My return to this place," he writes,
" is sooner than I expected, owing to the
uninterruptedness of my journey by
sickness, from bad weather, or accidents
of any kind whatsoever. Having ob
tained, before I left Philadelphia, the
most accurate accounts I could get
there of the places and roads through
and by which I was to perform my
tour, and the distances between the
former, I formed my line of march
accordingly, fixing each day's journey

Republican Court.

Chap. V.]

LETTER TO GOUVERNEUR MORRIS.

473

and the day to halt ; from neither of
which have I departed in a single in
stance, except staying, from a particular
circumstance, two days in Columbia,
and noLe at Charlotte, instead of one
at each, and crossing James River at
Carter's Ferry, in place of Taylor's, as
was my original intention. But the
improbability of performing a tour of
seventeen hundred miles (I have al
ready rode more) with the same set
of horses, without encountering any ac
cident, by which a deviation would
be rendered unavoidable, appeared so
great, that I allowed eight days for
casualties, and six to refresh at this
place,- when I should have returned to
it. None of the former having hap
pened, accounts for the fourteen days I
shall remain here before the meeting of
the commissioners."*
In relation to this tour in the South
ern States, Marshall says : " In passing
through them, he was received uni
versally with the same marks of affec
tionate attachment which he had expe
rienced in the northern and central
parts of the Union. To the sensibili
ties which these demonstrations of the
regard and esteem of good men could
not fail to inspire, was added the high
gratification produced by observing the
rapid improvements of the country, and
the advances made by the government
in acquiring the confidence of the peo
ple." The numerous letters written by
o For designating the site of the new seat of govern
ment. Washington remained with the commissioners
several days engaged in this business.

him after his return to Philadelphia,
attest the agreeable impressions made
by these causes. " In my late tour
through the Southern States," said he,
in a letter of the 28th of July, to
Mr. Gouverneur Morris, " I experienced
great satisfaction in seeing the good
effects of the general government in
that part of the Union. The people
at large have felt the security which
it gives, and the equal justice which it
administers to them. The farmer, the
merchant, and the mechanic have seen
their several interests attended to, and
from thence they unite in placing a
confidence in their representatives, as
well as in those in whose hands the
execution of the laws is placed. In
dustry has there taken place of idleness,
and economy of dissipation. Two or
three years of good crops, and a ready
market for the produce of their lands,
have put every one in good humor;
and, in some instances, they even im
pute to the government what is due
only to the goodness of Providence.
"The establishment of public credit
is an immense point gained in our na
tional concerns. This, I believe, ex
ceeds the expectation of the most san
guine among us ; and a late instance,
unparalleled in this country, has been
given of the confidence reposed in our
measures, by the rapidity with which
the subscriptions to the Bank of the
United States were filled. In two
hours after the books were opened by
the commissioners, the whole number
of shares was taken up, and four thou-

474

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

sand more applied for than were al
lowed by the institution. This circum
stance was not only pleasing, as it re
lated to the confidence in government,
but also as it exhibited an unexpected
proof of the resources of our citi

zens.

This visit had undoubtedly some
tendency to produce the good disposi
tion which Washington observed with
so much pleasure. The affections are,
perhaps, more intimately connected
with the judgment than we are dis
posed to admit ; and the appearance
of the chief magistrate of the Union,
who was the object of general love
and reverence, could not be without
its influence in conciliating the minds
of many to the government he admin
istered, and to its measures. But this
progress towards conciliation was, per
haps, less considerable than was indi
cated by appearances. The hostility
to the government, which was coeval
with its existence, though diminished,
was far from being subdued; and un
der this smooth exterior was concealed
a mass of discontent, which, though it
did not obtrude itself on the view of
the man who united almost all hearts,
was active in its exertions to effect its
objects. The difficulties which must impede
the recruiting service in a country
where coercion is not employed, and
where the common wages of labor
greatly exceed the pay of a soldier,
protracted the completion of the regi
ments to a late season of the year;

but the summer was not permitted to
waste in total inaction.
The act passed at the last session
for the defence of the frontiers, in ad
dition to its other provisions, had given
to the president an unlimited power to
call mounted militia into the field.
Under this authority, two expeditions
had been conducted against the vil
lages on the Wabash, in which a few
of the Indian warriors were killed,
some of their old men, women, and
children, were made prisoners, and sev
eral of their towns and fields of corn
were destroyed. The first was led by
General Scott, in May, and the second
by General Wilkinson, in September.
These desultory incursions had not
much influence on the war.
It was believed in the United
States that the hostility of the Indians
was kept up by the traders living in
their villages. These persons had, gen
erally, resided in the United States ;
and, having been compelled to leave
the country, in consequence of the
part they had taken during the war
of the Revolution, felt the resentments
which banishment and confiscation sel
dom fail to inspire. Their enmities
were ascribed by many, perhaps un
justly, to the temper of the govern
ment in Canada ; but some countenance
seemed to be given to this opinion by
intelligence that, about the commence
ment of the preceding campaign, large
supplies of ammunition had been deliv
ered from the British posts on the
lakes, to the Indians at war with the

Chap. V.]

ASSEMBLING OF THE SECOND CONGRESS.

475

United States. While Washington was
on his Southern tour, he addressed a
letter to the secretary of state, to be
communicated to Colonel Beckwith,
who still remained in Philadelphia as
the informal representative of his na
tion, in which he expressed his surprise
and disappointment at this interference,
by the servants or subjects of a foreign
state, in a war prosecuted by the
United States for the sole purpose of
procuring peace and safety for the in
habitants of their frontiers.
On receiving this communication,
Colonel Beckwith expressed his disbe
lief that the supplies mentioned had
been delivered ; but on being assured
of the fact, he avowed the opinion that
the transaction was without the knowl
edge of Lord Dorchester, to whom he
said he should communicate, without
delay, the ideas of the American gov
ernment on the subject.
On the 24th of October the second
Congress assembled in Philadelphia.
In his speech, at the opening
of the session, the president
expressed his great satisfaction at the
prosperous situation of the country,
and particularly mentioned the rapid
ity with which the shares in the Bank
of the United States were subscribed, as
"among the striking and pleasing evi
dences which presented themselves, not
only of confidence in the government,
but of resources in the community."
Adverting to the measures which
had been taken in execution of the
laws and resolutions of the last session,

1791.

" the most important of which," he ob
served, "respected the defence and se
curity of the western frontiers," he had,
he said, "negotiated provisional treaties,
and used other proper means to attach
the wavering, and to confirm in their
friendship the well-disposed tribes of
Indians. The means which he had
adopted for a pacification with those
of a hostile description having proved
unsuccessful, offensive operations had
been directed, some of which had
proved completely successful, and oth
ers were still depending. Overtures
of peace were still continued to the
deluded tribes ; and it was sincerely
to be desired that all need of coercion
might cease, and that an intimate in
tercourse might succeed, calculated to
advance the happiness of the Indians,
and to attach them firmly to the
United States."
In marking the line of conduct
which ought to be maintained for the
promotion of this object, he strongly
recommended "justice to the savages,
and such rational experiments for im
parting to them the blessings of civili
zation, as might from time to time suit
their condition;" and then concluded
this subject with saying: "A system
corresponding with the mild principles
of religion and philanthropy, towards
an unenlightened race of men whose
happiness materially depends on the
conduct of the United States, would
be as honorable to the national charac
ter, as conformable to the dictates of
sound policy."

476

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

After stating that measures had
been taken for carrying into execution
the act laying duties on distilled spir
its, he added: "The impressions with
which this law has been received by
the community have been, upon the
whole, such as were to have been ex
pected among enlightened and well-
disposed citizens, from the propriety
and necessity of the measure. The
novelty, however, of the tax, in a con
siderable part of the United States,
and a misconception of some of its
provisions, have given occasion, in par
ticular places, to some degree of dis
content. But it is satisfactory to know
that this disposition yields to proper
explanations, and more just apprehen
sions of the true nature of the law.
And I entertain a full confidence that it
will, in all, give way to motives which
arise out of a just sense of duty, and a
virtuous regard to the public welfare.
" If there are any circumstances in
the law, which, consistently with its
main design, may be so varied as to
remove any well-intentioned objections
that may happen to exist, it will com
port with a wise moderation to make
the proper variations. It is desirable,
on all occasions, to unite with a steady
and firm adherence to constitutional
and necessary acts of government, the
fullest evidence of a disposition, as far
as may be practicable, to consult the
wishes of every part of the community,
and to lay the foundations of the pub
lic administration in the affections of
the people."

"The answers of the two houses
noticed, briefly and generally, the va
rious topics of the speech ; and, though
perhaps less warm than those of the
preceding Congress, manifested great
respect for the executive magistrate,
and an undiminished confidence in his
patriotic exertions to promote the pub
lic interests.
Soon after Congress was organized
for business, a warm debate sprung up
in relation to the new apportionment of
representatives, in accordance with the
census, which had been taken in the
preceding year, and the results of
which were now ready for the consid
eration of Congress. The contest was
not put to rest till the following April ;
and not till the third bill was con
structed, did the two houses agree.
The first proposal made by the repre
sentatives, was to adopt the lowest
ratio allowed by the constitution —
thirty thousand, which would have
raised their numbers to a hundred and
thirteen ; but there would have been
large fractions of population in the
Northern States left unrepresented.
The Senate, to lessen those disfranchised
remnants, raised the ratio to thirty-
three thousand ; but it was alleged,
that then there were fractions, though
not so large, remaining in the Southern
States. The house would not accept
the change, and reiterated its former
proposal in a new bill, which also ar
ranged the taking of another census,
before the expiration of ten years : but
the Senate refused ijts assent to this ;

Chap. V.]

APPORTIONMENT OF REPRESENTATIVES.

477

and, instead, increased the numbers to
a hundred and twenty, by assigning
representatives to the largest fractions.
This, which violated the letter of the
constitution, excited greater heat than
ever, and the old threat of breaking
up the Union was resorted to. A com
mittee of conference was demanded, at
length ; and in the end, the scheme of
the Senate was carried by a majority
of two, out of sixty votes. This de
cision has been remarked upon, as
having a curious bearing upon the old
political controversies, the representa
tives of the Southern States being found
rejecting the amendment of the Senate,
which embodied their own State-sov
ereignty principle ; and those of the
North accepting it, although they were
most in favor of the opposite principle
of polity.
Washington very justly considered
this mode of apportionment as con
trary to the constitution, and on the
5th of April, returned the bill to Con
gress, with his objections. The first
was, that the constitution had pre
scribed that representatives should be
apportioned among the several States
according to their respective numbers ;
and that there was no one proportion
or division which, applied to the re
spective States, would yield the num
ber and allotment of representatives
proposed by the bill : the second, that
by the constitution, the number of
representatives should not exceed one
for every thirty thousand ; which re
striction, by the fair and obvious con
voi,. II.— 61

struction, was to be applied to the sep
arate and respective States ; and that
the bill had allotted to eight States
more than one for every thirty thou
sand. This was the first instance in
which the president had exercised his
veto upon any act of Congress* The
bill not being repassed by two-thirds of
both houses, was rejected. A bill after
wards passed, April 9th, 1792, by a vote
of thirty-four to thirty, apportioning
the representatives agreeable to a ratio
of one for every thirty-three thousand
in each State, which received the sanc
tion of the president ; and thus, this
interesting part of the constitution was
finally settled.
During this session of Congress, an
act passed for establishing a uniform
militia. Washington had manifested, from
the commencement of his administra-

0 The following is the message which he delivered on
this occasion :
Gentlemen of the House or Representatives —
I have maturely considered the act passed by the two
Houses, entitled "An act for the apportionment of repre
6entatives among the several States according to the first
enumeration, ' ' and I return it to your House, wherein it
originated, with the following objections.
First. The constitution has prescribed that representa
tives shall be apportioned among the several States ac
cording to their respective numbers, and there is no
proportion or divisor which, applied to the respective
numbers of the States, will yield the number and allot
ment of representatives proposed by the bill.
Secondly. The constitution has also provided, that the
number of representatives shall not exceed one for thirty
thousand — which restriction is by the context, and by fair
and obvious construction, to be applied to the separate
and respective numbers of the States — and the bill has
allotted to eight of the States more than one for thirty
thousand.

478

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

1791.

tion, a peculiar degree of solicitude on
this subject, and had repeatedly urged
it on Congress.
In his speech at the opening of the
present session, he again called the at
tention of the legislature to it ; and, at
length, a law was enacted, though it
was less efficacious than the plan re
ported by General Knox, the secretary
of war.
In December, intelligence was re
ceived by the president, and immediate
ly communicated to Congress,
that the American army had
been totally defeated on the fourth of
the preceding month.
Although the most prompt and judi
cious measures had been taken to raise
the troops, and to march them to the
frontiers, they could not be assembled
in the neighborhood of Fort Wash
ington until the month of September,
nor was the establishment even then
completed. The immediate objects of the expe
dition were, to destroy the Indian vil
lages on the Miami, to expel the savages
from that country, and to connect it
with the Ohio by a chain of posts which
would prevent they.- return during the
war. On the 7th of September, the regu
lars moved from their camp in the
vicinity of Fort Washington, and march
ing directly north, towards the object
of their destination, established two
intermediate posts, forts Hamilton and
Jefferson, at the distance of rather more
than forty miles from each other, as

places of deposit, and of security either
for convoys of provision which might
follow the army, or for the army itself,
should any disaster befall it. The last
of these works, Fort Jefferson, was not
completed until the 24th of October,
before which time reinforcements were
received of about three hundred and
sixty militia. After placing garrisons
in the forts, the effective number of the
army, including militia, amounted to
rather less than two thousand men.
With this force, the general continued
his^ march, which was rendered both
slow and laborious by the necessity of
opening a road. Small parties of In
dians were frequently seen hovering
about them, and some unimportant
skirmishes took place. As the army
approached the country in which they
might expect to meet an enemy, about
sixty of the militia deserted in a body.
This diminution of force was not, in
itself, an object of much concern. But
there was reason to fear that the ex
ample, should those who set it be per
mitted to escape with impunity, would
be extensively followed; and it was
reported to be the intention of the de
serters, to plunder convoys of provisions
which were advancing at some distance
in the rear. To prevent mischiefs of so
serious a nature, the general detached
Major Hamtranck with the first regi
ment in pursuit of the deserters, and
directed him to secure the provisions
under a strong guard.
The army, consisting of about four
teen hundred effective rank and file,

Chap. V."|

BATTLE WITH THE INDIANS.

479

continued its march ; and, on the 3d of
November, encamped about fifteen miles
south of the Miami villages. The right
wing, under the command of General
Butler, formed the first line, and lay
with a creek, about twelve yards wide,
immediately in its front. The left
wing, commanded by Lieutenant-colonel
Darke, formed the second ; and between
the two lines was an interval of about
seventy yards. The right flank was
supposed to be secured by the creek,
by a steep bank, and by a small body
of troops ; the left was covered by a
party of cavalry, and by piquets. The
militia crossed the creek, and advanced
about a quarter of a mile in front,
where they also encamped in two lines.
On their approach, a few Indians who
had shown themselves on the oppo
site side of the creek, fled with pre
cipitation. At this place, the general intended
to throw up a slight work for the
security of the baggage ; and, after
being joined by Major Hamtranck, to
march, as unencumbered and as expedi
tiously as possible, to the villages he
purposed to destroy.
In both of these designs he was
anticipated. About half an hour be
fore sunrise on the day following, just
after the troops had been dismissed
from the parade, an unexpected attack
was made upon the militia, who fled in
the utmost confusion, and rushing into
camp through the first line of conti
nental troops, which had been formed
the instant the first gun was discharged,

threw them too into disorder. The ex
ertions of the officers to restore order
were not entirely successful. The In
dians pressed close upon the heels of
the flying militia, and engaged General
Butler with great intrepidity. The ac
tion instantly became extremely warm ;
and the fire of the assailarits, passing
round both flanks of the first line, was,
in a few minutes, poured with equal
fury on the rear division. Its greatest
weight was directed against the centre
of each wing, where the artillery was
posted ; and the artillerists were mowed
down in great numbers. Firing from
the ground, and from the shelter which
the woods afforded, the assailants were
scarcely seen but when springing from
one cover to another, in which manner
they advanced close up to the Ameri
can lines, and to the very mouths of
the field-pieces. They fought with the
daring courage of men whose trade is
war, and who are stimulated by all
those passions which can impel the
savage mind to vigorous exertions.
While some of the American soldiers
performed their duty with the utmost
resolution, others seemed dismayed and
terrified. Of this conduct the officers
were, as usual, the victims. With a
fearlessness which the occasion required,
they exposed themselves to the most
imminent dangers ; and, in their efforts
to change the face of affairs, fell in great
numbers. For several days the commander-in-
chief had been afflicted with a severe
disease, under which he still labored,

480

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

and which must have greatly affected
him ; but, though unable to display that
activity which would have been useful
in this severe conflict, neither the feeble
ness of his body, nor the peril of his
situation, could prevent his delivering
his orders with judgment and. with self-
possession. It was soon perceived that the Amer
ican fire could produce, on a concealed
enemy, no considerable effect; and that
the only hope of victory was placed in
the bayonet. At the head of the sec
ond regiment, which formed the left of
the left wing, Lieutenant-colonel Darke
made an impetuous charge upon the
enemy, forced them from their ground
with some loss, and drove them about
four hundred yards. He was followed
by that whole wing ; but the want of a
sufficient number of riflemen to press
this advantage, deprived him of the
benefit which ought to have been de
rived from this effort ; and. as soon as
he gave over the pursuit, the Indians
renewed their attack. In the mean
time General Butler was mortally
wound ed, the left of the right wing
was broken, the artillerists almost to a
man killed, the guns seized, and the
camp penetrated by the enemy. With
his own regiment, and with the battal
ions commanded by majors Butler and
Clarke, Darke was ordered again to
charge with the bayonet. These orders
were executed with intrepidity and mo
mentary success. The Indians were
driven out of the camp, and the artil
lery recovered. But while they were

pressed in one point by the bravest of
the American troops, their fire was kept
up from every other with fatal effect.
Several times particular corps charged
them, always with partial success ; but
no universal effort could be made, and
in every charge a great loss of officers
was sustained, the consequences of
which were severely felt. Instead of
keeping their ranks, and executing the
orders which were given, a great pro
portion of the soldiers flocked together
in crowds, and were shot down without
resistance. To save the remnant of his
army was all that remained to be done ;
and, about half-past nine in the morn
ing, General St. Clair ordered Lieuten
ant-colonel Darke, with the second regi
ment, to charge a body of Indians who
had intercepted their retreat, and to
gain the road. Major Clarke, with his
battalion, was directed to cover the
rear. These orders were executed, and
a disorderly flight commenced. The
pursuit was kept up about four miles,
when, fortunately for the surviving
Americans, that avidity for plunder
which is a ruling passion among sava
ges, called back the victorious Indians
to the camp, where the spoils of their
vanquished foes were to be divided.
The routed troops continued their flight
to Fort Jefferson, a distance of about
thirty miles, throwing away their arms
on the road. At this place they met
Major Hamtranck with the first regi
ment ; and a council of war was called
to deliberate on the course to be pur
sued. As this regiment was far from

Chap. V.]

DISASTROUS DEFEAT OF ST. CLAIR.

481

restoring the strength of the morning,
it was determined not to attempt to re
trieve the fortune of the day ; and,
leaving the wounded at Fort Jefferson,
the army continued its retreat to Fort
Washington. In this disastrous battle, the loss on
the part of the Americans was very
great when compared with the num
bers engaged. Thirty-eight commis
sioned officers were killed upon the
field, and five hundred and ninety-three
non-commissioned officers and privates
were slain and missing. Twenty-one
commissioned officers, several of whom
afterwards died of their wounds, and
two hundred and forty-two non-com
missioned officers and privates, were
wounded. Among the dead was the
brave and much-lamented General But
ler. This gallant officer had served
through the war of the Revolution ;
and had, on more than one occasion,
distinguished himself in a remarkable
manner. In the list of those who
shared his fate, were the names of many
other excellent officers who had partici
pated in all the toils, the dangers, and
the glory of that long conflict which
terminated in the independence of their
country. At the head of the list of
wounded were lieutenant-colonels Gib
son* and Darke, Major Butler, and
Adjutant-general Sargent, all of whom
were veteran officers of great merit,
who displayed their accustomed bra
very on this unfortunate day. General
s See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

St. Clair, in his official letter, observed :
" The loss the public has sustained by
the fall of so many officers, particularly
of General Butler and Major Ferguson,
cannot be too much regretted, but it is
a circumstance that will alleviate the
misfortune in some measure, that all of
them fell most gallantly doing their
duty." From the weight of the fire, and the
circumstance of his being attacked near
ly at the same time in front and rear,
General St. Clair was of opinion that he
was overpowered by numbers. The
intelligence afterwards collected would
make the Indian force to consist of
from one thousand to fifteen hundred
warriors. Of their loss no estimate
could be made ; the probability is, that
it bore no proportion to that sustained
by the American army.
Nothing could be more unexpected
than this severe disaster. The public
had confidently anticipated a successful
campaign, and could not believe that
the general who had been unfortunate
had not been culpable.
General St. Clair requested with
earnestness that a court-martial should
sit on his conduct ; but this request
could not be granted, because the army
did not furnish a sufficient number of
officers of a grade to form a court for
his trial on military principles. Late
in the session, a committee of the House
of Representatives was appointed to in
quire into the cause of the failure of
the expedition, whose report, in ex
plicit terms, exculpated St. Clair. This

482

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

inquiry, however, was instituted rather
for the purpose of investigating the
conduct of civil than of military offi
cers, and was not conducted by mili
tary men. More satisfactory testimony
in favor of St. Clair is furnished by
the circumstance that he still retained
the undiminished esteem and good opin
ion of the president.*
The confidence of Washington in St.
Clair, however, had been very severely
shaken on his first receiving intelligence
of his defeat. This fact is known by
the recent publication of an anecdote
communicated by Mr. Lear to the Hon
orable Richard Rush, and by him in
serted in his " Washington in Domestic
Life," as follows :
"An anecdote I derived from Col
onel Lear shortly before his death in
1816," says Mr. Rush, "may here be
related, showing the height to which
his (Washington's) passion would rise
yet be controlled. It belongs to his
domestic life, which I am dealing with,
having occurred under his own roof,
whilst it marks public feeling the most
intense, and points to the moral of his
life. I give it in Colonel Lear's words
as nearly as I can, having made a note
of them at the time.
" Towards the close of a winter's day
in 1791, an officer in uniform was seen
to dismount in front of the president's
in Philadelphia, and, giving the bridle
to his servant, knocked at the door of
his mansion. Learning from the porter

* Marshall.

that the president was at dinner, he said
he was on public business and had dis
patches for the president. A servant
was sent into the dining-room to give
the information to Mr. Lear, who left
the table and went into the hall, where
the officer repeated what he had said.
Mr. Lear replied that, as the president's
secretary, he would take charge of the
dispatches and deliver them at the
proper time. The officer made answer
that he had just arrived from the west
ern army, and his orders were to de
liver them with all promptitude, and to
the president in person ; but that he
would wait his directions. Mr. Lear
returned, and in a whisper imparted to
the president what had passed. Gen
eral Washington rose from the table,
and went to the officer. He was back
in a short time, made a word of apolo
gy for his absence, but no allusion to
the cause of it. He had company that
day. Every thing went on as usual.
Dinner over, the gentlemen passed to
the drawing-room of Mrs. Washington,
which was open in the evening. The
general spoke courteously to every lady
in the room, as was his custom. His
hours were early, and by ten o'clock all
the company had gone. Mrs. Wash
ington and Mr. Lear remained. Soon
Mrs. Washington left the room.
" The general now walked backward
and forward slowly for some minutes
without speaking. Then he sat down
on a sofa by the fire, telling Mr. Lear
to sit down. To this moment there
had been no change in his manner since

Chap. V.]

INTERESTING ANECDOTE.

483

his interruption at table. Mr. Lear
now perceived emotion. This rising in
him, he broke out suddenly : ' It's all
over! St. Clair's defeated — routed, — the
officers nearly all killed — the men by
wholesale, — the route complete, — too
shocking to think of, — and a surprise
into the bargain !'
" He uttered all this with great ve
hemence. Then he paused, got up
from the sofa, and walked about the
room several times, agitated but saying
nothing. Near the door he stopped
short and stood still a few seconds;
when his wrath became terrible.
" ' Yes,' he burst forth, ' here on this
very spot I took leave of him ; I wished
him success and honor. You have your
instructions, I said, from the secretary
of war ; I had a strict eye to them ;
and will add but one word — Beware of
a surprise ! I repeat it — Beware of a
surprise ! You know how the Indians
fight us ! He went off with that as my
last solemn 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, 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 !'
" This torrent came out in tones ap
palling. His very frame shook. It
was awful, said Mr. Lear. More than
once he threw his hands up as he
hurled imprecations upon St. Clair.

Mr. Lear remained speechless — awed
into breathless silence.
" The roused chief sat down on the
sofa once more. He seemed conscious
of his passion, and uncomfortable. He
was silent. His warmth beginning to
subside, he at length said in an altered
voice : ' This must not go beyond this
room.' Another pause followed — a
longer one — when he said in a tone
quite low : ' General St. Clair shall
have justice. I looked hastily through
the dispatches, saw the whole disaster,
but not all the particulars. I will re
ceive him without displeasure ; I will
hear him without prejudice. He shall
have full justice.'
" He was now, said Mr. Lear, perfect
ly calm. Half an hour had gone by.
The storm was over ; and no sign of it
was afterwards seen in his conduct or
heard in his conversation. The result
is known. The whole case was inves
tigated by Congress. St. Clair was ex
culpated, and regained the confidence
Washington had in him when appoint
ing him to that command. He had put
himself into the thickest of the fight,
and escaped unhurt, though so ill as to
be carried on a litter, and unable to
mount his horse without help."
This anecdote might, at first, seem
discreditable to Washington, as exhib
iting the mighty strength of his pas
sions when roused. But upon mature
consideration, it does him great honor,
affording equal evidence of his power
of self-control, his public spirit, his dis
interestedness, and his candor.

484

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

The Indian war now assumed a still
more serious aspect. There was reason
to fear that the hostile tribes would
derive a great accession of strength
from the impression which their suc
cess would make upon their neighbors ;
and the reputation of the government
was deeply concerned in retrieving the
fortune of its arms, and affording pro
tection to its citizens. The president,
therefore, lost no time in causing the
estimates for a competent force to be
prepared and laid before Congress. In
conformity with a report made by the
secretary of war, a bill was brought
into the House of Representatives, di
recting three additional regiments of
infantry, and a squadron of cavalry to
be raised, to serve for three years, if
not sooner discharged. The whole
military establishment, if completed,
would amount to about five thousand
men. The additional regiments, how
ever, were to be disbanded as soon as
peace should be concluded with the
Indians ; and the president was au
thorized to discharge, or to forbear to
raise, any part of them, "in case
events should, in his judgment, render
his so doing consistent with the public
safety." This bill met with great opposition.
A motion was made to strike out the
section which authorized an augmenta
tion of force. This led to a very ani
mated debate, in which the opposition
exhibited a determination to embarrass
the administration, by defeating even
the most necessary and useful measures

it might propose. The public spirit
and good sense of the majority, how
ever, prevailed.
The motion for striking out the sec
tion was lost ; and the bill was carried
for the augmentation of force required
by the executive.
The treasury was not in a condition
to meet the demands upon it, which
the increased expenses of the war would
unavoidably occasion ; and sources of
additional revenue were to be ex
plored. A select committee, to whom
this subject was referred, brought in a
resolution directing Mr. Hamilton, the
secretary of the treasury, to report
his opinion to the House, on the best
mode of raising those additional sup
plies which the public service might
require for the current year.
This proposition gave rise to a very
animated debate.
It will be recollected that when the
act for establishing the treasury de
partment was under consideration, the
clause which rendered it the duty, of
the secretary to digest and report
plans for the improvement and man
agement of the revenue, and for the
support of public credit, was earnestly
opposed. A large majority, however,
was in favor of the principle; and,
after being so modified as only to ad
mit a report if required by the House,
it was retained in the bill. In com
plying with the various resolutions of
Congress, calling for reports on sub
jects connected with his department,
Hamilton had submitted plans which,

Chap. V.]

EXCITING DEBATE IN CONGRESS.

485

having been profoundly considered,
were well digested, and accompanied
by arguments, the force of which it
was difficult to resist. His measures
were generally supported by a major
ity of Congress; and, while the high
credit of the United States was be
lieved to attest their wisdom, the mas
terly manner in which his reports were
drawn, contributed to raise still higher
that reputation for great talents which
he had long possessed. To the further
admission of these reports, it was de
termined, on this occasion, to make a
vigorous resistance.
But the opposition was not success
ful. On taking the question, the reso
lution was carried ; thirty-one members
voting in its favor, and twenty-seven
against it.
The report made by Hamilton, in
pursuance of this resolution, recom
mended certain augmentations of the
duties on imports ; and was immedi
ately referred to the consideration of a
committee of the whole House. Reso
lutions were then passed which were
to form the basis of a bill ; and which
adopted, not only the principles, but,
with the exception of a few unimport
ant alterations, the minute details of
the report.
Before the question was taken on
the bill, a motion was made to limit its
duration, the vote upon which marked
the progress of opinion in the House
respecting those systems of finance
which were believed to have estab
lished the credit of the United States.
Vor,. II.— 62

Hamilton had deemed it indispensa
ble to the creation of public credit,
that the appropriations of funds for
the" payment of the interest, and the
gradual redemption of the principal
of the national debt, should be not
only sufficient, but permanent also. A
party was found in the first Congress
who opposed this principle ; and were
in favor of retaining a full power over
the subject in each branch of the legis
lature, by making annual appropria
tions. The arguments which had failed
in Congress appear to have been more
successfully employed with the people.
Among the multiplied vices which were
ascribed to the funding system, it was
charged with introducing a permanent
and extensive mortgage of funds, which
was alleged to strengthen unduly the
hands of the executive magistrate, and
to be one of the many evidences which
existed, of monarchical propensities in
those who administered the govern
ment. The report lately made by Hamilton,
and the bill founded on that report,
contemplated a permanent increase of
the duties on certain specified articles ;
and a permanent appropriation of the
revenue arising from them, to the pur
poses of the national debt. Thirty-one
members were in favor of the motion
for limiting the duration of the bill,
and only thirty against it. By the
rules of the House, the speaker has a
right first to vote as a member; and,
if the numbers should then be equally
divided, to decide as speaker. Being

486

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

opposed to the limitation, the motion
was lost by his voice, and Hamilton's
measure was carried through in its
original form.
On the eighth of May, after an ac
tive and interesting session,
1792. . °
Congress adjourned to the first
Monday in November.
Among the bills passed at this ses
sion of Congress, the most important
were that for the apportionment of the
representatives, and that for the aug
mentation of the military force, inas
much as the discussion of these meas
ures served to develop the political
parties which had begun to divide
Congress and the people. In appor
tioning the representatives, many mem
bers of Congress endeavored to obtain
the largest possible number, in order
to preserve the rights of the States
and check the power of the executive.
On the same principles the army bill
was opposed, as having a tendency to
increase executive power and patron
age, and thus endanger the liberties of
the country.
Throughout the United States, the
party opposed to the constitution had
charged its supporters with a desire to
establish a monarchy on the ruins of
republican government ; and the con
stitution itself was alleged to contain
principles which would prove the truth
of this charge. The leaders of that
party had, therefore, been ready, from
the instant the government came in
to operation, to discover, in all its
measures, those monarchical tenden

cies which they had perceived in the
instrument they opposed.
The salaries allowed to public offi
cers, though so low* as not to afford a
decent maintenance to those who re
sided at the seat of government, were
declared to be so enormously high, as
clearly to manifest a total disregard
of that simplicity and economy which
were the characteristics of republics.
The levees of the president, and the
evening parties of Mrs. Washington,
were said to be imitations of regal
institutions, designed to accustom the
American people to the pomp and
manners of European courts. The
vice-president, too, was said to keep
up the state and dignity of a mon
arch, and to illustrate, by his conduct,
the principles which were inculcated
in his political works.
The Indian war, they alleged, was
misconducted, and unnecessarily pro
longed, for the purposes of expending
the public money, and of affording a
pretext for augmenting the military
establishment, and increasing the rev
enue. All this prodigal waste of the money
of the people was designed to keep
up the national debt, and the influence
it gave the government ; which, united
with standing armies, and immense
revenues, would enable their rulers to
rivet the chains which they were se-

0 The salary of the secretary of state, which was the
highest, was $3500 ; that of the secretary of the treasury
was $2000. Hamilton was finally obliged to resign, to
gain a living.

Chap. V.]

ANTAGONISM OF JEFFERSON AND HAMILTON.

487

cretly forging. Every prediction which
had been uttered respecting the anti-
republican principles of the govern
ment, was said to be rapidly verifying,
and that which was disbelieved as
prophecy, was daily becoming history.
If a remedy for these ills was not
found in the increased representation
of the people which would take place
at the ensuing elections, they would
become too monstrous to be borne ;
and when it was recollected that the
division of opinion was marked by a
geograpnical line, there was reason to
fear that the Union would be broken
into one or more confederacies.
These irritable symptoms had as
sumed appearances of increased malig
nity during the session of Congress
which had just terminated ; and, to
Washington, who firmly believed that
the Union and the liberty of the States
depended on the preservation of the
government, they were the more un
pleasant and the more alarming, be
cause they were displayed in full force
in his cabinet.
The feud between Jefferson and
Hamilton, to which we have already
referred, still continued in full force,
and they were regarded, as in fact
they were, respectively, the heads of
the two parties. They disagreed not
only on the internal affairs, but on the
foreign policy of the government :
Jefferson having a leaning towards
the revolutionists of France, and Ham
ilton favoring a conciliatory policy to
wards Great Britain.

In all popular governments, the
press is the most ready channel by
which the opinions and the passions
of the few are communicated to the
many ; and of the press, the two great
parties forming in the United States
sought to avail themselves. The "Ga
zette of the United States" supported
the systems of Hamilton, while other
papers enlisted themselves under the
banners of the opposition. Conspicu
ous among these was the " National
Gazette," a paper edited by Philip
Freneau, the poet, a clerk in the de
partment of state. The avowed pur
pose for which Jefferson patronized
this paper, was to present to the eye
of the American people European intel
ligence derived from the Leyden ga
zette, instead of English papers ; but
it soon became the vehicle of calumny
against the funding and banking sys
tems; against the duty on home-made
spirits, which was denominated an ex
cise, and against the men who had
proposed and supported those meas
ures. With, perhaps, equal asperity,
the papers attached to the party which
had defended these systems, assailed
the motives of the leaders of the op
position. This schism in his cabinet was a sub
ject of extreme mortification to Wash
ington. Entertaining a high respect
for the talents, and a real esteem for
the characters, of both gentlemen, he
was unwilling to part with either ; and
exerted all the influence he possessed
to effect a reconciliation between them.

488

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

In a letter of the 23d of August, ad
dressed to Jefferson, after reviewing
the critical situation of the United
States with respect to its external re
lations, he thus expressed himself on
this delicate subject: "How unfortu
nate, and how much is it to be regretted
then, that, while we are encompassed
on all sides with avowed enemies, and
insidious friends, internal dissensions
should be harassing and tearing our
vitals. The last, to me, is the most
serious, the most alarming, and the
most afflicting of the two ; and, with
out more charity for the opinions of
one another in governmental matters,
or some more infallible criterion by
which the truth of speculative opin
ions, before they have undergone the
test of experience, are to be fore
judged, than has yet fallen to the lot
of fallibility, I believe it will be diffi
cult, if not impracticable, to manage
the reins of government, or to keep
the parts of it together ; for if, instead
of laying our shoulders to the machine,
after measures are decided on, one
pulls this way, and another that, be
fore the utility of the thing is fairly
tried, it must inevitably be torn asun
der ; and, in my opinion, the fairest
prospect of happiness and prosperity
that ever was presented to man will
be lost, perhaps, forever.
"My earnest wish and my fondest
hope, therefore, is, that instead of
wounding suspicions, and irritating
charges, there may be liberal allow
ances, mutual forbearances, and tem

porizing yielding on all sides. Under
the exercise of these, matters will go
on smoothly ; and, if possible, more
prosperously. Without them, every
thing must rub ; the wheels of govern
ment will clog ; our enemies will tri
umph ; and, by throwing their weight
into the disaffected scale, may accom
plish the ruin of the goodly fabric we
have been erecting.
" I do not mean to apply this advice,
or these observations, to any particular
person or character. I have given
them in the same general terms to
other officers of the government, be
cause the disagreements which have
arisen from difference of opinions, and
the attacks which have been made
upon almost all the measures of gov
ernment, and most of its executive
officers, have for a long time past filled
me with painful sensations, and cannot
fail, I think, of producing unhappy con
sequences, at home and abroad."
In a subsequent letter to Jefferson,
in answer to one which inclosed some
documents designed to prove that,
though desirous of amending the con
stitution, he had favored its adoption,
the president said : " I did not require
the evidence of the extracts which you
inclosed me, to convince me of your at
tachment to the constitution of the
United States, or of your disposition
to promote the general welfare of this
country; but I regret, deeply regret,
the difference of opinion which has
arisen, and divided you and another
principal officer of the government;

Chap. V.]

LETTERS TO JEFFERSON AND HAMILTON.

489

and wish devoutly there could be an
accommodation of them by mutual
yieldings. " A measure of this sort would pro
duce harmony and consequent good in
our public councils; and the contrary
will inevitably produce confusion and
serious mischiefs — and for what ? be
cause mankind cannot think alike, but
would adopt different means to attain
the same end. For I will frankly and
solemnly declare that I believe the
views of both to be pure and well
meant, and that experience only will
decide with respect to the salubrity of
the measures which are the subjects of
this dispute.
" Why then, when some of the best
citizens of the United States, men of
discernment, uniform and tried patri
ots, who have no sinister views to pro
mote, but are chaste in their ways of
thinking and acting, are to be found,
some on one side, and some on the
other of the questions which have
caused these agitations — why should
either of you be so tenacious of your
opinions as to make no allowance for
those of the other ?
" I could, and, indeed, was about to
add more on this interesting subject,
but will forbear, at least for the pres
ent, after expressing a wish that the
cup which has been presented to us
may not be snatched from our lips by
a discordance of action, when I am per
suaded there is no discordance in your
views. I have a great, a sincere esteem
and regard for you both ; and ardently

wish that some line could be marked
out by which both of you could walk."
On the same subject Washington ad
dressed a letter to Hamilton, from which
the following is an extract :
" Differences in political opinions are
as unavoidable as, to a certain point,
they may be necessary; but it is ex
ceedingly to be regretted that subjects
cannot be discussed with temper, on
the one hand, or decisions submitted to
on the other, without improperly im
plicating the motives which led to
them ; and this regret borders on cha
grin when we find that men of abilities,
zealous patriots, having the same general
objects in view, and the same upright
intentions to prosecute them, will not
exercise more charity in deciding on
the opinions and actions of each other.
When matters get to such lengths, the
natural inference is, that both sides have
strained the cords beyond their bearing,
that a middle course would be found
the best, until experience shall have
decided on the right way ; or, which is
not to be expected, because it is denied
to mortals, until there shall be some
infallible rule Iby which to forejudge
events. " Having premised these things, 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 ga
zettes are so strongly impregnated, and
which cannot fail, if persevered in, of
pushing matters to extremity, and there-

490

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

by tearing the machine asunder, that
there might be mutual forbearance and
temporizing yieldings on all sides. With
out these, I do not see how the reins of
government are to be managed, or how
the union of the States can be much
longer preserved.
" How unfortunate would it be if a
fabric so goodly, erected under so many
providential circumstances, after acquir
ing in its first stages so much respecta
bility, should, from diversity of senti
ment, or internal obstructions to some
of the acts of government (for I cannot
prevail on myself to believe that these
measures are as yet the acts of a deter
mined party), be brought to the verge
of dissolution ! Melancholy thought !
But while it shows the consequences of
diversified opinions, where pushed with
too much tenacity, it exhibits evidence
also of the necessity of accommodation,
and of the propriety of adopting such
healing measures as may restore har
mony to the discordant members of
the Union, and the governing powers
of it.
" I do not mean to apply this advice
to any measures which are passed, or
to any particular character. I have
given it, in the same general terms, to
other officers of the government. My
earnest wish is, that balm may be poured
into all the wounds which have been
given, to prevent them from gangren
ing, and to avoid those fatal consequen
ces which the community may sustain
if it is withheld. The friends of the
Union must wish this: those who are

not, but who wish to see it rended, will
be disappointed ; and all things I hope
will go well."
These earnest endeavors to soothe the
angry passions, and to conciliate the
jarring discords of the cabinet, were
unsuccessful. The hostility which was
so much and so sincerely lamented sus
tained no diminution, and its conse
quences became every day more dif
fusive. Among the immediate effects of these
internal dissensions, was the encourage
ment they afforded to a daring and
criminal resistance which was made to
the execution of the laws imposing a
duty on spirits distilled within the
United States.
To the inhabitants of that part ot
Pennsylvania which lies west of the
Alleghany mountains, this duty was,
from local considerations, peculiarly
odious ; nor was their hostility to the
measure diminished by any affection for
the source in which it originated. The
constitution itself had encountered the
most decided opposition from that part
of the State ; and that early enmity to
the government which exerted every
faculty to prevent its adoption, had sus
tained no abatement. Its measures
generally, and the whole system of
finance particularly, had been repro
bated with peculiar bitterness by many
of the most popular men of that dis
trict. With these dispositions, a tax
law, the operation of which was ex
tended to them, could not be favorably
received, however generally it might be

Chap. V.]

RESISTANCE TO THE TAX ON WHISKEY.

491

supported in other parts of the Union.
But when, to this pre-existing temper,
were superadded the motives which
arose from perceiving that the measure
was censured on the floor of Congress
as unnecessary and tyrannical ; that re
sistance to its execution was treated as
probable ; that a powerful and active
party, pervading the Union, arraigned
with extreme acrimony the whole sys
tem of finance as being antagonistic to
liberty, and, with all the passionate
vehemence of conviction, charged its
advocates with designing to subvert the
republican institutions of America ; we
ought not to be surprised that the
awful impressions, which usually re
strain combinations to resist the laws,
were lessened ; and that the malcontents
were emboldened to hope that those
combinations might be successful.
The opposition to the duty on dis
tilled spirits had been carried so far,
and so daring had become the resist
ance to the law, as to require a procla
mation from the president, warning all
persons against unlawful combinations
and proceedings, tending to obstruct
the operations of the laws. But such
was the state of feeling, that the procla
mation produced no salutary effect.
Anxious to avoid extremities, the
government resolved upon another
course. Prosecutions were instituted
against delinquents. The spirits dis
tilled in the non-complying counties
were intercepted in their way to mar
ket, and seized by the officers of the
revenue ; and the agents for the army

were directed to purchase only those
spirits on which the duty had been
paid. Could the distillers have obeyed
their wishes, these measures would have
produced the desired effect. But, im
pelled by a furious multitude, they
found it much more dangerous to obey
the laws than to resist them.
Diplomatic intercourse had at length
been opened with Great Britain, who
had sent, on her own motion, Mr.
George Hammond as minister plenipo
tentiary to the United States. Mr.
Hammond arrived at Philadelphia in
the autumn of 1791, and soon after en
tered upon a long correspondence with
the secretary of state respecting the
non-execution of the treaty of peace.
The British minister having intrusted
to him only powers to negotiate, not to
conclude, to make, not to adjust, com
plaints, the course of the discussion, and
the principles avowed by the respec
tive parties, speedily demonstrated the
slight probability which existed of their
being able to agree upon a commercial
treaty. The Indians in the Northwest still
maintaining their attitude of hostility,
preparations for prosecuting the war
with vigor were earnestly pressed. Gen
eral Wayne was appointed to succeed
St. Clair in the command ; but the in
ducements to enter the service were so
small that the ranks filled up very
slowly, and the meditated expedition
could not be undertaken prudently
during the present year. Meanwhile,
the clamor against the war continued

492

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

to be loud and violent. From respect
for opinions extensively professed, it
was thought advisable to make still
another effort to procure peace by a
direct communication of the views of
the executive. The fate of those who
were employed in these efforts, was still
more to be lamented than their failure.
Colonel Harden and Major Truman,
two brave officers and estimable men,
were severally dispatched with propo
sitions of peace, and each was murdered
by the savages.
During the session of Congress,
Thomas Pinckney* was nominated min
ister plenipotentiary to England, and
Gouverneur Morris as minister plenipo
tentiary to France. Both these nomi
nations were confirmed by the Senate.
William Short was appointed minister
resident at the Hague, and was com
missioned, with Mr. Carmichael, to ef
fect a treaty with Spain. Paul Jones,
during the summer, was appointed a
commissioner for treating with the Dey
of Algiers, on the subject of peace and
the ransoming of American captives.
The letter, informing of his appoint
ment, did not, however, reach him ; for
Jones died at Paris on the 18th of July,
1792, in abject poverty and destitu
tion. In May, Washington wrote to the
Earl of Buchan, transmitting his por
trait, painted by Mr. Robertson, which
had been solicited by the earl. In the
same letter he thanked the earl for a

1792.

c See document [B] at the end of this chapter.

box made of the oak that sheltered
William Wallace after the battle of
Falkirk. In making this present, the
earl had requested Washington, in the
event of his decease, to leave it to the
man in his own country who should ap
pear, in his judgment, to merit it best.
Washington wisely decided otherwise ;
and, in his will, directed it to be re
turned to the Earl of Buchan.
On the 9th of May, the day after the
rising of Congress, Washington
set out from Philadelphia for
Mount Vernon, but returned early in
June. In July he went again to Mount
Vernon, accompanied by Mrs. Wash
ington and her two little grandchildren,
intending to remain there till near the
meeting of Congress, which was to take
place in November. During this short
residence at his beloved home, Wash
ington had much to distract his atten
tion from his favorite rural pursuits.
He was in constant correspondence
with the members of the cabinet on
public affairs. To Hamilton he was
writing about the resistance to the tax
on spirituous liquors, on the dissension
between him and Jefferson, and on poli
tics ; to General Knox, secretary of
war, on the preparations for Wayne's
campaign against the Indians; to Jef
ferson, secretary of state, on foreign af
fairs, on the troubles with the Span
iards in Florida, and on the Indian war,
as well as on his quarrel with Hamil
ton ; and to Randolph, attorney-gener
al, on the state of parties and the licen
tiousness of the press.

Chap. V.]

DEATH OF GEORGE AUGUSTINE WASHINGTON.

493

On the subject of newspaper abuse,
Washington appears to have felt a de
gree of sensitiveness which, at the pres
ent, is rare among public men. Hith
erto he appears to have been person
ally free from this annoyance ; but he
was unwilling to see his administration
calumniated by political demagogues.
Writing to Gouverneur Morris, the
American minister in France (Oct. 20,
1792), he says : " From the complexion
of some of our newspapers, foreigners
would be led to believe that inveterate
political dissensions exist among us, and
that we are on the very verge of dis
union ; but the fact is otherwise. The
great body of the people now feel the
advantages of the general government,
and would not, I am persuaded, do any
thing that should destroy it; but this
kind of representations is an evil, which
must be placed in opposition to the in
finite benefits resulting from a free
press ; and I am sure you need not be
told, that in this country a personal dif
ference in political sentiments is often
made to take the garb of general dis
sensions." Besides the public business which
pressed heavily on Washington during
his. present residence at Mount Vernon,
he found a new source of anxiety in
the alarming illness of his nephew,
George Augustine Washington, to
whom the care of the estate had been
intrusted since 1789, when the duties of
the presidency had called the chief to
the seat of government. This gentle
man had served in the Revolutionary
Vol. II.— 63

War as aid to Lafayette, with the rank
of major. Writing to Lafayette (June
10, 1792), Washington says: "I am
afraid my nephew George, your old
aid, will never have his health perfectly
re-established. He has lately been at
tacked with the alarming symptom of
spitting large quantities of blood ; and
the physicians give no hope of a resto
ration, unless it can be effected by a
change of air and a total dereliction of
business, to which he is too anxiously
attentive. He will, if he should be
taken from his family and friends,
leave three fine children, two sons and
a daughter. To the eldest of the boys
he has given the name of Fayette, and
a fine-looking child he is."
George Augustine Washington sunk
rapidly after this, and died at the resi
dence of Colonel Bassett, where he had
gone for a change of air, on the 5th ot
February, 1793. Washington, on hear
ing of his decease, wrote immediately,
from Philadelphia, to his widow,* con
doling with her on the heavy loss, and
inviting her to reside, with her chil
dren, at Mount Vernon.
In the latter part of October, Wash
ington returned to Philadelphia, in an
ticipation of the meeting of Congress.
, On the 5th of November, Congress
again convened. In Washing
ton's speech, delivered at the
commencement of the session, Indian
affairs were treated at considerable
° Mrs. Washington's maiden nam§ was Frances Bas
sett. She was the daughter of Colonel Bassett, an inti
mate friend of Washington.

494

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

length, and the continuance of the war
was mentioned as a subject of much re
gret. " The reiterated endeavors," it
was said, " which had been made to
effect a pacification, had hitherto issued
in new and outrageous proofs of per
severing hostility on the part of the
tribes with whom the United States
were in contest.
" A detail of the measures that had
been pursued, and of their consequen
ces, which would be laid before Con
gress, while it would confirm the want
of success thus far, would evince that
means as proper and as efficacious as
could have been devised, had been em
ployed. The issue of some of them
was still depending ; but a favorable
one, though not to be despaired of, was
not promised by any thing that had
yet happened."
That a sanction, commonly respected
even among savages, had been found
insufficient to protect from massacre the
emissaries of peace, was particularly no
ticed ; and the families of those valua
ble citizens who had thus fallen victims
to their zeal for the public service,
were recommended to the attention of
the legislature.
That unprovoked aggression had
been made by the southern Indians,
and that there was just cause for appre
hension that the war would extend to
them also, was mentioned as a subject
of additional concern.
"Every practicable exertion had been
made to be prepared for the alternative
of prosecuting the war, in the event of

a failure of pacific overtures. A large
proportion of the troops authorized to
be raised had been recruited, though
the numbers were yet incomplete ; and
pains had been taken to discipline
them, and put them in a condition for
the particular kind of service to be per
formed. But a delay of operations, be
sides being dictated by the measures
that were pursuing towards a pacific
termination of the war, had been in it
self deemed preferable to immature
efforts." The humane system which has since
been pursued with partial success, of
gradually civilizing the savages by im
proving their condition, of diverting
them in some degree from hunting to
domestic and agricultural occupations,
by imparting to them some of the most
simple and useful acquisitions of society,
and of conciliating them to the United
States by a beneficial and well-regula
ted commerce, had ever been a favorite
object with the president; and the de
tailed view which was now taken of In
dian affairs, was concluded with a repe
tition of his recommendations of these
measures. The subject next adverted to in the
speech, was the impediments which, in "
some places, continued to embarrass the
collection of the duties on spirits dis
tilled within the United States. After
observing that these impediments were
lessening in local extent, but that symp
toms of such increased opposition had
lately manifested themselves in certain
places as, in his judgment, to render his

Chap. V.]

DISCUSSION ON THE PUBLIC DEBT.

495

special interposition advisable, the presi
dent added : " Congress may be assumed
that nothing within constitutional and
legal limits, which may depend on me,
shall be wanting to assert and maintain
the just authority of the laws. In ful
filling this trust, I shall count entirely
on the full co-operation of the other de
partments of government, and upon the
zealous support of all good citizens."
After noticing various objects which
would require the attention of the legis
lature, the president addressed himself
particularly to the House of Represent
atives, and said : " I entertain a strong
hope that the state of the national
finances is now sufficiently matured to
enable you to enter upon a systematic
and effectual arrangement for the regu
lar redemption and discharge of the
public debt, according to the right
which has been reserved to the govern
ment. No measure can be more desira
ble, whether viewed with an eye to its
intrinsic importance, or to the general
sentiments and wish of the nation."
The addresses of the two Houses in
answer to the speech were, as usual, re
spectful and affectionate. The several
subjects recommended to the attention
of Congress, were noticed either in gen
eral terms, or in a manner to indicate
a coincidence of sentiment between the
legislative and executive departments.
The turbulent spirit which had mani
fested itself in certain parts of the
Union, was mentioned by both houses
with a just degree of censure, and the
measures adopted by the president, as

well as the resolution he expressed to
compel obedience to the laws, were ap
proved ; and the House of Representa
tives, in the most unqualified terms, de
clared opinions in favor of systematic
and effectual arrangements for discharg
ing the public debt. But the subse
quent proceedings of the legislature did
not fulfil the expectations excited by
this auspicious commencement of the
session. At an early day, in a committee of
the whole House on the president's
speech, Mr. Fitzsimmons moved "that
measures for the reduction of so much
of the public debt as the United States
have a right to redeem, ought to be
adopted ; and that the secretary of the
treasury be directed to report a plan
for that purpose."
This motion was objected to by Mr.
Madison as being premature. The state
of the finances, he thought, was not suf
ficiently understood to authorize the
adoption of the measure it contempla
ted. The debate, however, soon took a
different direction.
On a ..motion made, directing the
secretaries of the treasury and of war
to attend the House and to give in
formation, severe denunciations were
poured forth against the unconstitu
tionality of subjecting the representa
tives to the control of the heads of the
executive departments. The motions
for requiring a report from Hamilton
on a plan for redeeming the public
debt, and for paying a debt owing to
the bank, which were brought in by

496

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Mr. Fitzsimmons, renewed the contest ;
but, although Madison and others op
posed the reference to the secretary
of the treasury, the resolution was
carried. Hamilton's report proposed a plan
for the redemption of the debt. But
the expenses of the Indian war ren
dering it unsafe, in his opinion, to rest
absolutely on the existing revenue, he
also proposed to extend the internal
taxes to pleasure horses, or pleasure
carriages, as might be deemed most
advisable. For the reimbursement of
the bank, he recommended that power
be conferred to negotiate a loan for two
million dollars, — the dividends on the
shares held by the government, to be
pledged for the interest; and, as the gov
ernment paid six per cent, to the bank,
he relied on the saving that would be
effected by borrowing at a lower rate
of interest. The consideration of this
report was deferred on various grounds ;
and a motion was made to reduce the
military establishment. The debate was
long, and earnestly contested ; but the
motion was rejected, on the 5th of Jan
uary, 1793.
A few weeks later, another subject
was introduced into the House, which
absorbed the attention of the
members, and put an end, for
the present session, to every measure
connected with the finances.
Mr. Giles, on the 23d of January,
moved several resolutions, requiring
information, among other things, on
various points growing out of the loans |

1793.

authorized by Congress, in August,
1790. The object was, to inculpate
the secretary of the treasury respect
ing the management and application
of these loans, and of the revenue gen
erally. Mr. Giles indulged himself in
remarks which clearly showed the
animus of his proceedings, and it was
his determination to prove to the House
that there was a large balance in the
funds unaccounted for. The resolutions
were agreed to without debate, as was
only due to Mr. Hamilton; and soon
after, three successive and able reports
were sent in, containing the information
required. In these reports, a full exposition
was given of the views and motives of
the secretary, in the conduct of the
treasury department. It is also evi
dent that Hamilton felt aggrieved at
this attack upon his reputation ; and
he did not hesitate to use language of
great plainness and severity, observing,
in conclusion: "Thus have I not only
furnished a just and affirmative view
of the real situation of the public ac
counts, but have likewise shown, I
trust, in a conspicuous manner, fallacies
enough in the statements, from which
the inference of an unaccounted-for bal
ance is drawn, to evince that it is one
tissue of error."
But the matter did not end here.
Mr. Giles, on the 28th of February,
submitted to the House a series of
nine resolutions, containing charges
against the secretary. The substance
of them was, that he had failed to give

Chap. V.]

CLOSE OF THE THIRD CONGRESS.

497

1793.

Congress information, in due time, of
moneys drawn from Europe ; that he
had violated the law of the 4th
of August, 1790, by an un
authorized application of money bor
rowed under it ; that he had drawn
part of the money into the United
States, without any instructions from
the president ; that he had exceeded
his authority in making loans, under
the acts ; that without instructions from
the president, he had drawn more of
the money borrowed in Holland than
he was authorized by those acts; and
that he had been guilty of an inde
corum to the house, in undertaking to
judge its motives in calling for infor
mation. The debate was continued
until the night of March 1st, and was
characterized by unusual bitterness. It
terminated in a rejection of the res
olutions, and consequently in an entire
exculpation of Hamilton from all just
censure. The highest number voting
in favor of any. one of the resolutions
was sixteen.
" The whole of the session was spent,"
says Mr. Gibbs,* "in sifting the con
duct of the secretary. * * * The inves
tigation served one purpose of the op
position, — it prevented any question
being taken on the report. It seems
somewhat anomalous, that a party which
had charged the administration with a
wish to perpetuate the debt, should
thus have thwarted its measures to dis
charge it; and an explanation, of the
° "Administrations of Washington and Adams."

fact can only be found in a fixed de
termination to break down the sec
retary." The other business of the session
may be briefly stated. The claim for
compensation for loss on the certifi
cates in which they had been paid,
advanced by the officers of the old
continental army, was rejected. An
act respecting " fugitives from justice,
and persons escaping from the service
of their masters," was passed, early in
February, by a vote of forty-eight to
seven. The trade with the Indians
was regulated ; and an attempt was
made to initiate an amendment to the
constitution, because the State of Geor
gia, sued in the federal courts for a
debt due to a citizen of another State,
had suffered judgment by default. And
nearly two millions of dollars were ap
propriated to the public service, in
addition to the almost three millions
more for interest on the debt.
On Saturday, the 3d of March, a con
stitutional period was put to the
existence of the present Con
gress. The members separated with
obvious symptoms of extreme irrita
tion. " Various causes," says Marshall,
the most prominent of which have al
ready been noticed, " had combined to
organize two distinct parties in the
United States, which were rapidly tak
ing the form of a ministerial and an
opposition party. By that in opposi
tion, the president was not yet openly
denounced. His personal influence was
too great to be encountered by a direct

1793.

498

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON

[Book VI.

avowal that he was at the head of their
adversaries ; and his public conduct did
not admit of a suspicion that he could
allow himself to rank as the chief of a
party. Nor could public opinion be
seduced to implicate him in the am
bitious plans and dark schemes for the
subversion of liberty, which were as
cribed to a part of the administration,
and to the leading members who had sup
ported the measures of finance adopted
by the legislature."
Yet it was becoming apparent that
things were taking a course which must
inevitably involve him in the political
conflicts which were about to take place.
It was apparent that the charges against
the secretary of the treasury would not
be relinquished, and that they were of
a nature to affect the chief magistrate
materially, should his countenance not
be withdrawn from that officer. It was
equally apparent that the fervor of de
mocracy, which was perpetually mani
festing itself in the papers, in invectives
against levees, against the trappings of
royalty, and against the marks of pecu
liar respect which were paid to the
president, must soon include him more
pointedly in its strictures.
These divisions, which are inherent
in the nature of popular governments,
by which the chief magistrate, however
unexceptionable his conduct, and how
ever exalted his character, must, sooner
or later, be more or less affected, were
beginning to be essentially influenced
by the great events of Europe.
That revolution which has been the

admiration, the wonder, and the terror
of the civilized world, had, from its
commencement, been viewed in Amer
ica with the deepest interest. In its
first stage, but one sentiment respecting
it prevailed ; and that was a belief, ac
companied with an ardent wish, that it
would improve the condition of France,
extend the blessings of liberty, and
promote the happiness of the human
race. When the labors of the Con
vention had terminated in a written
constitution, this unanimity of opinion
was in some degree impaired. By a
few who had thought deeply on the
science of government, and who, if not
more intelligent, certainly judge more
dispassionately than their fellow-citizens,
that instrument was believed to contain
the principles of self-destruction. It
was feared that a system so ill-balanced
could not be permanent. A deep im
pression was made on the same persons
by the influence of the galleries over the
legislature, and of mobs over the ex
ecutive ; by the tumultuous assemblages
of the people, and their licentious ex
cesses during the short and sickly ex
istence of the regal authority. These
did not appear to be the symptoms of
a healthy constitution, or of genuine
freedom. Persuaded that the present
state of things could not last, they
doubted, and they feared for the future.
In total opposition to this sentiment
was that of the public generally. There
seems to be something infectious in the
example of a powerful and enlighten
ed nation verging towards democracy,

Chap. V.]

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.

499

which imposes on the human mind, and
leads human reason in fetters. Novel
ties, introduced by such a nation, are
stripped of the objections which had
been preconceived against them ; and
long-settled opinions yield to the over
whelming weight of such dazzling au
thority. It wears the semblance of
being the sense of mankind, breaking
loose from the shackles which had
been imposed by artifice, and asserting
the freedom and the dignity of his na
ture. The constitution of France, therefore,
was generally received with unqualified
plaudits. The establishment of a legis
lature consisting of a single body, was
defended not only as being adapted to
the particular situation of that country,
but - as being right in itself. Certain
anonymous writers, who supported the
theory of a balanced government, were
branded as the advocates of royalty
and of aristocracy. To question the
duration of the present order of things,
was thought to evidence an attachment
to unlimited monarchy, or a blind pre
judice in favor of the institutions of
Great Britain ; and the partiality of
America in favor of a senate was visi
bly declining.
In this stage of the revolution, how
ever, the division of sentiment was not
marked with sufficient distinctness, nor
the passions of the people agitated with
sufficient violence, for any powerful
effect to be produced on the two par
ties in America. But when the mon
archy was completely overthrown and

a republic decreed,* the people of the
United States seemed electrified by the
measure, and its influence was felt by
the whole society. The war in which
the several potentates of Europe were
engaged against France, although in al
most every instance declared by that
power, was pronounced to be a war for
the extirpation of human liberty, and
for the banishment of free government
from the face of the earth. The preser
vation of the constitution of the United
States was supposed to depend on its
issue ; and the coalition against France
was treated as a coalition against Amer
ica also.
A cordial wish for the success of the
French arms, or rather that the war
might terminate without any diminu
tion of French power, and in such a
manner as to leave the people of that
country free to choose their own form

° This event was announced to the president by the
minister plenipotentiary of France, at Philadelphia, in
February, 1793. Through the secretary of state, an
answer was returned, of which the following is an ex
tract :
" The president receives with great satisfaction this at
tention of the executive council, and the desire they have
manifested of making known to us the resolution entered
into by the National Convention, even before a definitive
regulation of their new establishment could take place.
Be assured, sir, that the government and the citizens of
the United States view with the most sincere pleasure
every advance of your nation towards its happiness, an
object essentially connected with its liberty ; and they
consider the union of principles and pursuits between our
two countries as a link which binds still closer their in
terests and affections.
"We earnestly wish, on our part, that these our mu.
tual dispositions may be improved to mutual good, by
establishing our commercial intercourse on principles as
friendly to natural right and freedom as are those of our
governments."

500

LLFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

of government, was perhaps universal ;
but, respecting the probable issue of
their internal conflicts, perfect unanim
ity of opinion did not prevail. By
some few individuals, the practicability
of governing, by a system formed, on
the republican model, an immense, pop
ulous, and military nation, whose insti
tutions, habits, and morals were adapted
to monarchy, and which was surround
ed by armed neighbors, was deemed a
problem which time alone could solve.
The circumstances under which the
abolition of royalty was declared, the
massacres which preceded it, the scenes
of turbulence and violence which were
acted in every part of the nation, ap
peared to them to present an awful and
doubtful state of things, respecting
which no certain calculations could be
made ; and the idea that a republic was

to be introduced and supported by
force, was, to them, a paradox in poli
tics. Under the influence of these ap
pearances, the apprehension was enter
tained that, if the ancient monarchy
should not be restored, a military des
potism would be established. By the
many, these unpopular doubts were
deemed unpardonable heresies ; and
the few to whom they were imputed,
were pronounced hostile to liberty. A
suspicion that the unsettled state of
things in France had contributed to
suspend the payment of the debt to
that nation, had added to the asperity
with which the resolutions on that sub
ject were supported ; and the French
revolution will be found to have had
great influence on the strength of par
ties, and on the subsequent political
transactions of the United States.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER Y.

[A.J
GEORGE GIBSON.
George Gibson was generally known and
admired for his wit and social qualities, and es
teemed by all who knew him for the honorable
and generous feelings of his heart. Of the va
riety of anecdotes connected with him, the limits
of a sketch admit only of a brief outline. His
services to his country were neither few nor un
important. He was born at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in
October, 1 744. After passing through the usual
academical course, he was placed in a respectable
mercantile house in Philadelphia, and after the
expiration of his apprenticeship, made several
voyages to the West Indies as a supercargo.
But growing tired of a pursuit which promised
no rapid advancement, he retired to Fort Pitt,
at that time a frontier post, within the actual
jurisdiction of Virginia, where his brother was
established in the Indian trade. Here his
brother-in-law, Captain Callender, put under his
direction a trading adventure to the British post
on the Illinois, which ended in the loss of the
whole capital embarked. Discouraged by want
of success in mercantile matters, he married and
rented a farm and mills near Carlisle, in Cum
berland county, but was again unsuccessful, ow
ing to a want of practical knowledge of the
business into which he had entered. In these
circumstances the Revolution found him ; when,
leaving his wife and child under the care of her
father, he returned to Fort Pitt, where he raised
a company of one hundred men on his own au
thority. With these he marched to Williams
burg, the seat of the government of Virginia,
and was immediately appointed a captain in one
of the two regiments then raising by that State.
Vol. II.— 04

His men possessed all that sense of individual
independence, and all that hardihood and des
perate daring, which the absence of most of the
restraints of civilization and familiarity with
danger never fails to produce on the inhabitants
of an Indian frontier ; qualities which, although
of inestimable value in the hour of battle, are
not those which insure a prompt obedience, and
a ready subjection to discipline and the police of
a camp : and this company, by its turbulence
and the frequent battles of its members with the
soldiers of every other corps with which it hap
pened to be quartered, acquired the name of
"Gibson's lambs;" an appellation which it re
tained long after Captain Gibson had ceased to
command it. It was composed entirely of sharp
shooters, and did good service on the 25th of
October, 1775, at the attack on the town of
Hampton, by a naval force under Lord Dun-
more ; where having arrived along with another
company, by a forced march from Williamsburg,
during the preceding night, it was posted in the
houses fronting the water, whence the soldiers
so galled the enemy with small-arms, as to drive
him from his position, with the loss of a number
of men, and a tender, which fell into their pos
session. About this time, the scarcity of gunpowder in
the army became alarming, and urgent applica
tions were made by Washington to Congress
and the respective States for a supply. As the
article was not generally manufactured in the
colonies, it was necessary to procure it from
abroad; and for this purpose the attention of
government was turned towards New Orleans.
As Spain, however, could not furnish munitions
of war to a belligerent without a manifest breach
of her neutrality, it was evident that the success
of a negotiation with one of her dependencies

502

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI

would depend on the degree of secrecy and ad
dress with which it should be conducted ; and
Captain Gibson was selected as a person possess
ing, in an eminent degree, the qualifications re
quired to manage it with the best prospect of
success. Having received his credentials, he
repaired to Pittsburg, with twenty-five picked
men of his company, and descended the river
with a cargo of flour, ostensibly as a trader.
The voyage was pregnant with adventures which
possess all the freshness of the incidents of a ro
mance ; but of these, the limits of a rapid sketch
like the present precludes the insertion of all
but one. The Indians immediately on the banks
of the Ohio and Mississippi were hostile, and
parties of them in canoes frequently evinced an
intention to attack the boat, but were deterred
by the alacrity and determined countenance of
the crew. Captain Gibson arrived at the falls
of the Ohio in the evening, about dusk, after
having observed no indications of Indians for
some days, and being without a pilot, he deter
mined to land and pass the falls on the ensuing
morning. But just as the men were fastening
the boat to the shore, a strong party of Indians
appeared on the bank above, and ordered them
to come ashore. Resistance would have been
useless, as it was plain that the lives of the crew
were in their power ; and Captain Gibson was
led between two warriors with cocked rifles up
the ascent to the Indian camp, where he was
interrogated by the chief. He told the most
plausible story he was able suddenly to invent,
of his being an American deserter, on his way
to join the British in Florida ; but just as he
seemed to have made a favorable impression on
the chief, his surprise may more easily be con
ceived than described, at being interrupted by
a laugh from an Indian who had before appeared
inattentive to every thing that was passing, and
who exclaimed in very good English, "Well
done, George Gibson ! And you think nobody
here knows you!" But observing Captain Gib
son's consternation, who expected nothing less
than to be shot down on the spot by his two
attendants with the cocked rifles, he added,
"But show no signs of fear. None of the party
but myself understands a word of English; only
keep your own secret and leave the rest to me,

and I shall contrive to bring you off," which he
very handsomely did. On being asked by Cap
tain Gibson how he had discovered his name,
he answered that he had lived a long time
about the house of his brother, General Gibson,
at Fort Pitt, where he often heard the family
speak of George ; that he knew Thomas, his
other brother, and as he at once had discovered
Captain Gibson to be a brother of John's, he
knew that he could be no other than George.
He had received kindnesses from General Gib
son, and in this way determined to show his
gratitude for them.
Next morning they were permitted to depart,
after being piloted by an Indian over the falls.
They were, however, pursued by the Indians,
who either suspected, or had found out their
true character, shortly after their departure, and
who came up with them, in canoes, at a place
called Henderson's Bend. They were suffered
to approach pretty close, when a galling fire was
opened on them by the crew of the boat, par
ticularly from swivels with which it was armed ;
in consequence of which the Indians were thrown
into such confusion that some of their canoes
were overturned, and they desisted. They, how
ever, landed, and crossing the tongue of land
which formed the bend, attacked the boat from
both sides of the river, at a point lower down,
but without effect, excepting that two of the
men were wounded.
On arriving at New Orleans, he entered on
his negotiation with the government, in which
he was successful, being assisted by the influence
of Oliver Pollock, Esq., an American gentleman
resident there, and in favor with Don Galvos,
the governor, and to whose correspondent the
gunpowder was afterwards consigned. But as
suspicions of the object were excited in the
minds of the British merchants and commercial
agents in the place, the governor deemed it
prudent to have Captain Gibson arrested. In a
few days, however, he was permitted to escape,
being first provided with horses for himself and
his servant. Having ascended the river as far
as the first high land, he struck off into the
wilderness ; shortly after which his horses were
stolen by Indians, and the rest of the journey
(about eighteen hundred miles) was performed

Chap. V.]

DOCUMENTS.

503

on foot through regions before unvisited by a
white man, and among tribes of Indians whose
language he frequently did not understand, but
by whom he was invariably treated with kind
ness. Arriving at Pittsburg in the garb of an
Indian, and with a complexion whose native
brown had received the deepest tint which the
rays of the sun could impart, he successfully
passed himself for an Indian on the officers of
the garrison, many of whom had long been his
intimate acquaintances.
On his return to Williamsburg, he was ap
pointed to the command of a State regiment,
furnished by Virginia to make up a deficiency
in her contingent of continental troops, and re
ceived by the United States on the continental
establishment. With this regiment he joined
the army under Washington, shortly before the
evacuation of York Island, and was arranged
to the division of General Lee. This division
followed the retreat of the army with linger
ing marches, and by a separate route, till the
seizure of Lee's person by the enemy, near Mor
ristown, when it quickened its pace under Sulli
van, and formed a junction with Washington's
army at the cantonment, on the right bank of
the Delaware. At the battle of Trenton, which
soon followed, Colonel Gibson served under the
immediate command of Washington, and par
ticipated in all the perils and toils of that gallant
little army, whose subsequent achievements con
tributed so much to reanimate the drooping
spirits of their country.
He continued to serve in the army immedi
ately commanded by Washington till the close
of the campaign of 1778, and was in nearly all
the principal battles which were fought during
that time ; but the period for which his men
had been enlisted having expired, and the regi
ment not being recruited, he was ordered to the
command of the depot of prisoners, near York,
Pennsylvania, which he retained till the end of
the war.
At the peace he retired to his farm in Cum
berland county, and shortly afterwards received
from the supreme executive council of the State
the commission of county lieutenant, the duties
of which he performed till the beginning of
1791. At this time, being in Philadelphia, the

seat of the federal government, the command of
one of the regiments then raising for General
St. Clair's expedition was offered to him by
President Washington, in terms that precluded
its rejection. The particulars of this disastrous
campaign are too well known to be narrated
here. The troops were led from the recruit
ing rendezvous into the presence of the enemy
without discipline, and destitute of many of
the appointments and munitions of war which
are essential to the efficiency of an army. But
more than any other cause, a want of harmony
between the first and second in command con
tributed to produce the catastrophe with which
the campaign ended. Colonel Gibson was the
intimate friend of the latter, and this naturally
produced a want of cordiality towards him on
the part of the former, which was so markedly
evinced the day preceding the action, as to in
duce him to express a determination to retire
from the service as soon as he could do so with
out disgrace. Next morning he was at the head
of his regiment, which was literally cut to pieces,
exhibiting a loss of eighteen commissioned offi
cers, and more than half of its non-commissioned
officers and privates. At the close of the action,
and in the last of several charges which were
executed by this regiment with the bayonet,
he received a wound in the groin. He was
brought off the field by his nephew, Captain
Slough, and one or two others of his surviving
officers, and languished at Fort Jefferson till the
11th of December following, bearing the most
excruciating pain, in a wretched hovel, without
surgical attendance, and almost without common
necessaries, Avith an equanimity of temper for
which he had all his life been remarkable.
It is not intended to speak harshly of General
St. Clair, or to attribute to him an intention to do
injustice to the memory of an unfortunate brother
officer. He was a man of integrity, and a gen
eral of undoubted talent, and the country owes
much to his memory : still, however, justice is
equally clue to the memory of the subject of this
notice. His regiment composed the right wing,
which was under the command of General But
ler ; but as a corps, it was under the immediate
command of its colonel. This may be a satis
factory reason why, in speaking of the incidents

504

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

of the battle, he was not mentioned in the official
report. But the particular designation of this
regiment as " Butler's, Patterson's, and Clarke's
battalions," might lead to an inference that the
name of its colonel Avas studiously kept out of
view. The omission of the name of Colonel
Gibson may have been, and probably Avas, acci
dental; but it Avas unjust. That his personal
exertions during the action fell under the imme
diate observation of the commanding general, is
proved by the testimony of Captain Denny (one
of the general's aids), in the investigation Avhich
took place by a committee of Congress ; an ac
count of Avhich Avas afterwards published by the
general himself. By this it apjpears that the
general frequently gave orders to Colonel Gib
son in person ; and that the latter, Avho after the
fall of General Butler commanded the right
wing, by direction and under the eye of General
St. Clair charged a body of Indians Avho had
broken into the camp, and retook the part of
which they had taken possession. There is no
point in Avhich an officer is so sensitive as in this;
yet there is no criterion of merit more fallacious
than the official report of a battle. It is these
reports, however, which, for the most part, settle
the question Avith the historian. It is needless
to mention, that the account of this battle, given
in Marshall's Life of Washington, is taken ex
clusively from General St. Clair's report ; and
this renders it the more necessary to attempt an
act of justice to the merits of Colonel Gibson,
even at this late day.
Perhaps no man had a Avider circle of ac
quaintance or warmer friends among the prin
cipal actors in our great political drama, than
the subject of this memoir. With his talents
and capacity for business, and Avith the influence
of those Avho had not only the poAver but the
inclination to serve him, a man Avith a single
eye to his OAvn advancement Avould at once
have made his Avay to office and distinction ; but
of this he Avas culpably negligent. He never
sought preferment ; and AArhen it came, it was at
the solicitation of his friends, not of himself.
Nature had endowed him Avith talents of the
first order. He had a peculiar talent for acquir
ing Languages, on account of which his school
mates gave him the name of Latin George. He

spoke French, Spanish, and German, the latter
vernacularly, and with the purity of a Saxon.
He read Italian; and during his residence on
the frontier he picked up enough of the Dela
ware tongue to enable him to converse in it in
differently Avell. Without being profound, his
acquirements as a scholar were respectable. Per
haps no man, Avith the same stock of information,
conversed so Avell. Wit he undoubtedly pos
sessed in an eminent degree, AArhich he used with
such discretion as never to make an enemy or
lose a friend. In broad humor he was confessed
ly Avithout a rival. He was the author of several
humorous songs, mostly connected with the pol
itics of the Revolution, which he sang Avith in
credible effect, but Avhich, as they were never
committed to paper, have passed away along
Avith him, and are now forgotten.

JOHN GIBSON.
John Gibson was born at Lancaster, Pennsyl
vania, on the 23d of May, 1740. He received a
classical education, and was an excellent scholar
at the age of eighteen, when he entered the
service. He made his first campaign under
General Forbes, in the expedition which result
ed in the acquisition of Fort Du Quesne (Pitts
burg) from the French. At the peace of 1763,
he settled at Fort Pitt, as a trader. Shortly
after this, Avar broke out again with the Indians,
and he Avas taken prisoner at the mouth of Bea
ver Creek, together Avith tAvo men who Avere in
his employment, while descending the Ohio in a
canoe. One of the men was immediately burnt,
and the other shared the same fate as soon as
the party reached the Kenawha. General Gib
son, however, Avas preserved by an aged squaAV,
and adopted by her in the place of her son, who
had been killed in battle. He remained several
years with the Indians, and became familiar Avith
their language, habits, manners, customs, and
traditions. It is to be regretted that the Ioav
degree of estimation in Avhich these subjects
Avere held, prevented him from giving his col
lections to the public, as in the present state of
taste for Indian antiquities they wo.ild have
been valuable.
In 1774, he acted a conspicuous part in the

Chap. V.]

DOCUMENTS.

505

expedition' against the Shawnee towns, under
Lord Dunmore, — particularly in negotiating the
peace which followed, — and restored many pris
oners to their friends, after a captivity of several
years. On this occasion, the celebrated speech
of Logan, the Mingo chief, was delivered ; the
circumstances connected Avith which have still
sufficient interest to justify a relation of them
here, as received from the lips of General Gib
son, a short time before his death. When the
troops had arrived at the principal town, and
while dispositions were making preparatory to
the attack, he was sent on with a flag, and au
thority to treat for peace. As he approached, he
met Avith Logan, Avho Avas standing by the side
of the path, and accosted him with, " My friend
Logan, how do you do ! I am glad to see you."
To which Logan, with a coldness of manner evi
dently intended to conceal feelings with which
he was struggling, replied, "I suppose you
are ;" and turned aAvay. On opening the busi
ness to the chiefs (all but Logan) assembled in
council, he found them sincerely desirous of
peace. During the discussion of the terms, he
felt himself plucked by the skirt of his capote,
and turning, beheld Logan standing at his back,
with his face convulsed with passion, and beck
oning him to follow. This he hesitated to do ;
but reflecting that he was at least a match for
his supposed antagonist, being armed Avith dirk
and side-pistols, and in muscular vigor more
than his equal, and considering, above all, that
the slightest indication of fear might be preju
dicial to the negotiation, he folloAved in silence,
while the latter, with hurried steps, led the way
to a copse of Avoods at some distance. Here
they sat doAvn, and Logan having regained the
power of utterance, after an abundance of tears,
delivered the speech in question, desiring that
it might be communicated to Lord Dunmore,
for the purpose of removing all suspicion of in
sincerity on the part of the Indians, in conse
quence of the refusal of a chief of such note to
take part in the ratification of the treaty. It
Avas accordingly translated and delivered to
Lord Dunmore immediately afterwards. Gen
eral Gibson would not positively assert that the
speech as given by Mr. Jefferson, in the Notes
on Virginia, is an exact copy of his translation,

although particular expressions in it induced him
to think that it is ; but he was altogether certain
that it contains the substance. He Avas of opin
ion, however, that no translation could give an
adequate idea of the original ; to which the lan
guage of passion, uttered in tones of the deepest
feeling, and with gesture at once natural, grace
ful, and commanding, together Avith a conscious
ness on the part of the hearer that the senti
ments proceeded immediately from a desolate
and broken heart, imparted a grandeur and force
inconceivably great. In comparison Avith the
speech as delivered, he thought the translation
lame and insipid.
On the breaking out of the Revolutionary
War, he was appointed to the command of one
of the continental regiments, and served with
the army at New York, and in the retreat
through Jersey; but for the rest of the Avar,
was employed on the Avestern frontier, for which,
by long experience in Indian warfare, he was
peculiarly qualified. In 1788, he was a member
of the convention which formed the constitution
of Pennsylvania, and subsequently a judge of
the court of common pleas of Alleghany county,
and also a major-general of militia. In 1800, he
received from President Jefferson the appoint
ment of secretary of the territory of Indiana ;
an office Avhich he held till that territory became
a State. At this time, finding that the infirmi
ties of age were thickening on him, and laboring
under an incurable cataract, he retired to Brad-
dock's Field, the seat of his son-in-laAv, George
Wallace, Esq., where he died on the 10th of
April, 1822 ; having borne through life the char
acter of a brave soldier and an honest man.
The following is the speech of Logan, alluded
to in the foregoing sketch, and Avhich Ave con
ceive will be proper in this place :
Speech of Logan, a Mingo cliief, to Lord Dunmore,
governor of Virginia, 1774.
" I appeal to any Avhite man to say, if ever he
entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him
not meat : if ever he came cold and naked, and
he clothed him not. During the course of the
last long and bloody Avar, Logan remained idle
in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was
my love for the AA'hites, that my countrymen

506

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

pointed as they passed, and said : ' Logan is the
friend of white men.' I had even thought to
have lived with you, but for the injuries of one
man. Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold
blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the rela
tions of Logan, not even sparing my women and
children. There runs not a drop of my blood
in the veins of any living creature. This called
on me for revenge. I have sought it : I have
killed many: I have fully glutted my vengeance :
for my country I rejoice at the beams of peace.
But do not harbor a thought that mine is the
joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not
turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there
to mourn for Logan ? Not one."

[B.]
THOMAS PINCKNEY.
Thomas Pinckney, major-general in the
army of the United States, was born October
23d, 1750, in Charleston, South Carolina, and
was the second son of Chief-justice Pinckney
and Eliza Lucas, daughter of Colonel Lucas,
governor of Antigua. He Avas carried to En
gland in the year 1753, Avith his elder brother,
General Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, by their
father, Avho returned in 1758, on account of the
war betAveen France and England, to Carolina,
where he soon after died, leaving directions
that his sons should receive the best education,
Avere it even necessary to sell part of his estate
for that purpose. They were educated at West
minster School and at Oxford. They studied
law at the Temple, and were admitted to the
bar in London. At the commencement of the
Revolutionary War the brothers joined the con
tinental army, Avhere they rose to the rank of
colonel and major. The elder brother Avas aid-
de-camp to Washington, and the younger served
in that capacity Avith General Lincoln, and then
Avith Count d'Estaing, aaIio commanded the
French army at the disastrous siege of Savan
nah. He also served as aid to General Gates,
and was Avounded and captured at the battle of

Camden, in 1780. On his recovery he was sent,
as a prisoner of Avar, to Philadelphia. During
the administration of Washington, he was of
fered the place of judge of the federal court,
which he declined. He was then elected the
second governor of South Carolina, as successor
to General Moultrie, and was eminently suc
cessful in establishing the authority of the laws,
which had been deranged during the long and
disastrous periods of the Southern Avar. Shortly
after the termination of his office, he accepted
from Washington the mission to the court of
St. James, Avhere he continued several years.
He was then employed on a mission to the
court of Spain, where he formed the treaty of
St. Ildefonso, by which the free navigation of
the Mississippi Avas secured to the United
States, before its cession to France, and sub
sequent purchase by Mr. Jefferson. The situ
ation of his estate requiring his presence at
home, he solicited his recall, and returned to
America in 1796. Soon after, he was elected a
member of Congress from Charleston district,
where he generally acted Avith that party at
the head of Avhich was Washington. After a
few sessions, he retired from public life, and
devoted himself to the care of his estate and
the education of his children. At the com
mencement of the war of 1812, he received
from Mr. Madison the appointment of major-
general of the sixth military district. It Avas
under his command that the Indian Avar, in
Avhich General Jackson distinguished himself,
was undertaken, and brought to a successful
issue. He advised the war department to sub
divide his military district, extending from
North Carolina to the Mississippi, as too large
for one command, and recommended General
Jackson to the command of a separate dis
trict, to be formed in the Southwest. At the
return of peace he was solicited by the presi
dent to continue his services, but he preferred
to resign his command and his connection with
public life.
Mr. Pinckney died on the 2d of November,
1828, in the seventy-eighth year of his age.

CHAPTER VI.
1793.
WASHINGTON INAUGURATES THE SYSTEM OF NEUTRALITY.
Washington desirous to retire from office. — Importance of his re-election urged by his friends. — Letters of Jefferson,
Hamilton, and Randolph, to Washington, on the subject. — Washington's answer to Kandolph. — Candidates for
the office of vice-president. — George Clinton opposed to Adams. — Kesult of the election. — The inauguration. —
Washington writes and remits money to the Marchioness Lafayette — Situation of Lafayette. — Vain efforts made
for his release. — Washington visits Mount Vernon. — War between France and Great Britain. — Washington's
letter on the subject to Jefferson. — His determination to maintain the neutrality of the United States. — Wash
ington returns to Philadelphia. — Cabinet council. — Proclamation of neutrality and reception of the French min
ister discussed and decided on. — Opinions of political parties on these measures. — Importance of the proclamation
of neutrality. — Its effects. — Genet appointed minister of France to the United States. — His character. — He arrives
at Charleston, and causes French privateers to be fitted and sent out from that port. — His flattering reception in
Philadelphia. — Audience with the president. — Complaints of the British minister. — Capture of the Grange.—
Her restitution demanded. — Decision of the government. — Genet complains. — Gets no satisfaction. — His audacity
encouraged by the opposition party. — Extract from one of his letters. — Arrest of privateersmen in Charleston. —
Insolent letters of Genet demanding their release. — Moderation of Washington. — Genet's error with regard to
the sentiments of the nation. — He founds a democratic club, in imitation of the Jacobin club of Paris. — Other
clubs formed in various parts of the country on the same model. — Affair of the Little Democrat. — Duplicity and
bad faith of Genet in that affair. — French property in American vessels seized by the British. — Genet's insulting
letter on that subject. — Jefferson gives him no satisfaction. — Washington's patience exhausted. — The dismissal
of Genet decided on. — Neutrality to be maintained. — Rules with respect to belligerents adopted. — British orders
in council for seizing neutral ships loaded with provision. — -France retaliates. — Impressment of seamen. — Genet's
rage at his recall. — His attempts to organize expeditions against Florida and Louisiana. — Open defiance of the
government by the French consul in Boston. — His exequatur revoked. — Algerine hostilities. — Complications with
Spain. — Conduct of the Democratic Society in Lexington, Kentucky. — Washington again at Mount Vernon. —
Yellow fever at Philadelphia. — Question about changing the place for the session of Congress. — Washington's
letter to Madison on the subject.

As the time approached for the ex
piration of Washington's first term of
office as President of the United States,
a great deal of anxiety was felt lest he
should determine on a final retirement
from public life. It was well known
that he had originally accepted the of
fice with extreme reluctance, that his
attention to its duties had impaired his
health, and that he was very desirous
to pass the remainder of his life in re

tirement and repose. But at the same
time it was felt that a crisis in public
affairs was impending which impera
tively demanded the whole force of his
character, and the whole influence of
his popularity, to sustain the govern
ment. Even at the period when the
federal government was first inaugu
rated, the call of his country to give
it strength and permanence was not
more urgent than that which now sum-

508

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

moned him to save it from the rage of
party spirit. Troubles and difficulties
were also threatening the country from
abroad, as well as internal factions at
home, and the true friends of the
country felt that none but "Washing
ton was equal to the emergency. He
received many letters urging his con
tinuance in office. Three of these were
from members of the cabinet — Jeffer
son, Hamilton, and Randolph.
Jefferson expressed himself as fol
lows: "When you first mentioned to me
your purpose of retiring from the gov
ernment, though I felt all the magni
tude of the event, I was in a consid
erable degree silent. I knew that,
to such a mind as yours, persuasion
was idle and impertinent ; that, be
fore forming your decision, you had
weighed all the reasons for and against
the measure, had made up your mind
on 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 con
fidence from that circumstance, and
resource if it failed. The public mind,
too, was then calm and confident, and
therefore in a favorable state for mak
ing the experiment. Had no change
of circumstances supervened, I should
not, with any hope of success, have
now ventured to propose to you a
change of purpose. But the public

mind is no longer so confident and
serene ; and that from causes in which
you are noways personally mixed.
" The confidence of the whole Union
is centred in you. Your being at the
helm will be more than an answer to
every argument which can be used to
alarm and lead the people in any quar
ter into violence or secession. North
and South will hang together, if they
have you to hang on ; and, if the first
corrective of a numerous representa
tion should fail in its effect, your pres
ence will give time for trying others
not inconsistent with the union and
peace of the States.
" I am perfectly aware of the op
pression under which your present
office lays your mind, and of the ar
dor with which you pant for retire
ment to domestic life. But there is
sometimes an eminence of character
on which society have such peculiar
claims, as to control the predilection
of the individual for a particular walk
of happiness, and restrain him to that
alone arising from the present and fu
ture 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, and
not to personal anxieties of mine or
others, who have no right to call on
you for sacrifices, 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

Chap. VI.]

LETTERS FROM JEFFERSON AND HAMILTON.

509

honest majority result from the new
and enlarged representation, 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 awaiting the comple
tion of the second period of four years.
One or two sessions will determine the
crisis ; and I cannot but hope that you
can resolve to add one or two more
to the many years you have already
sacrificed to the good of mankind.
" The fear of suspicion, that any self
ish motive of continuance in office may
enter into this solicitation on my part,
obliges me to declare, that no such
motive exists. It is a thing of mere
indifference to the public, whether I
retain or relinquish my purpose of
closing my tour with the first period
ical renovation of the government. I
know my own measure too well, to
suppose that my services contribute
any thing to the public confidence or
the public utility. Multitudes can fill
the office in which you have been
pleased to place me, as much to their
advantage and satisfaction. I, there
fore, have no motive to consult but
my own inclination, which is bent ir
resistibly on the tranquil enjoyment
of my family, my farm, and my books.
I should repose among them, it is true,
in far greater security, if I were to
know that you remained at the watch,
and I hope it will be so. To the in
ducements urged from a view of our
domestic affairs, I will add a bare men-
Vol. II.— 05

tion of what indeed need only be men
tioned, that weighty motives for your
continuance are to be found in our
foreign affairs. I think it probable
that both the Spanish and English ne
gotiations, if not completed before your
purpose is known, will be suspended
from the moment it is known, and that
the latter nation will then use double
diligence in fomenting the Indian war.
"With my wishes for the future, I
shall, at the same time, express my
gratitude of the past, at least my por
tion of it ; and beg permission to fol
low you, whether in public or private
life, with those sentiments of sincere
attachment and respect with which I
am unalterably, dear sir, your affection
ate friend and humble servant."
Extract from Hamilton's letter :
"I received the most sincere pleas
ure at finding, in our last conversation,
that there was some relaxation in the
disposition you had before discovered
to decline a re-election. Since your
departure, I have lost no opportunity
of sounding the opinions of persons,
whose opinions were worth knowing,
on these two points : first, the effect
of your declining upon the public af
fairs, and upon your own reputation ;
secondly, the effect of your continuing,
in reference to the declarations you
have made of your disinclination to
public life. And I can truly say, that
I have not found the least difference
of sentiment on either point. The im
pression is uniform, that your declining
would be to be deplored as the great-

510

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

est evil that could befall the country
at the present juncture, and as critic
ally hazardous to your OAvn reputa
tion ; that your continuance will be
justified in the mind of every friend
to his country by the evident necessity
for it.
" It is clear, says every one with
whom I have conversed, that the af
fairs of the national government are
not yet firmly established ; that its
enemies, generally speaking, are as in
veterate as ever; that their enmity has
been sharpened by its success, and by
all the resentments which flow from
disappointed predictions and mortified
vanity; that a general and strenuous
effort is making in every State to place
the administration of it in the hands
of its enemies, as if they were its safest
guardians ; that the period of the next
House of Representatives is likely to
prove the crisis of its permanent char
acter; that, if you continue in office,
nothing materially mischievous is to be
apprehended; if you quit, much is to
be dreaded ; that the same motives
which induced you to accept originally,
ought to decide you to continue till
matters have assumed a more deter
minate aspect ; that indeed it would
have been better, as it regards your
own character, that you 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 fore
sight or want of firmness ; and, in fine,

that on public and personal accounts,
on patriotic and prudential considera
tions, the clear path to be pursued by
you will be again to obey the voice of
your country ; which it is not doubted
will be as earnest and as unanimous as
ever. "I trust, sir, and I pray God, that
you will determine to make a further
sacrifice of your tranquillity and hap
piness to the public good. I trust
that it need not continue above a
year or two more. And I think that
it will be more eligible to retire from
office before the expiration of the term
of election, than to decline a re-elec
tion. " The sentiments I have delivered
upon this occasion, I can truly say.
proceed exclusively from an anxious
concern for the public welfare, and
an affectionate personal attachment.
These dispositions must continue to
govern, in every vicissitude, one who
has the honor to be, very truly and
respectfully, sir, yours, <fcc."
Randolph wrote as follows :
"I have persuaded myself that this
letter, though unconnected with any
official relation, and upon a subject to
the decision of which you alone are
competent, will be received in the
spirit with which it is written. The
Union, for the sake of which I have
encountered various embarrassments,
not wholly unknown to you, and sac
rificed some opinions, which, but for
its jeopardy, I should never have sur
rendered, seems to me to be, now, at

Chap. VI.]

LETTER FROM EDMUND RANDOLPH.

511

the eve of a crisis. It is feared by
those who take a serious interest in
the affairs of the United States, that
you will refuse the chair of govern
ment at the approaching election. If
such an event must happen, indulge
me, at least, in the liberty of opening
to you a course of thought, which a
calm attention to the federal govern
ment has suggested, and no bias of
party has influenced.
"It cannot have eseaped you that
divisions are formed in our politics, as
systematic as those which prevail in
Great Britain. Such as opposed the
constitution, from a hatred to the
Union, can never be conciliated by
any overture or atonement. By oth
ers, it is meditated to push the con
struction of federal powers to every
tenable extreme. A third class, re
publican in principle, ( and, thus far, in
my judgment, happy in their discern
ment of our welfare, have, notwith
standing, mingled with their doctrines
a fatal error — that the State assemblies
are to be resorted to as the engines
of correction to the federal adminis
tration. The honors belonging to the
chief magistracy are objects of no com
mon solicitude to a few, who compose
a fourth denomination.
"The fuel which has been already
gathered for combustion, wants no ad
dition. But how awfully might it be
increased, were the violence, which is
now suspended by a universal submis
sion to your pretensions, let loose by
your resignation ! Permit me, then, in

the fervor of a dutiful and affectionate
attachment to you, to beseech you to
penetrate the consequences of a dere
liction of the reins. The constitution
would never have been adopted, but
from a knowledge that you had once
sanctioned it, and an expectation that
you would execute it. It is in a state
of probation. The most inauspicious
struggles are past, but the public de
liberations need stability. You alone
can give them stability. You suffered
yourself to yield when the voice ot
your country summoned you to the ad
ministration. Should a civil war arise,
you cannot stay at home. And how
much easier will it be to disperse the
factions which are rushing to this ca
tastrophe, than to subdue them after
they shall appear in arms? It is the
fixed opinion of the world, that you
surrender nothing incomplete.
"I am not unapprised of many dis
agreeable sensations which have la
bored in your breast. But, let them
spring from any cause whatsoever, of
one thing I think I am sure (and I
speak this from a satisfactory inquiry
lately made), that, if a second oppor
tunity shall be given to the people of
showing their gratitude, they will not
be less unanimous than before."
Washington's own views we learn
from the following letter, in answer to
Randolph :
" The purpose of this letter is merely
to acknowledge the receipt of your fa
vors of the 5th and 13th instant, and
to thank you for the information con-

512

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

tained in both, without entering into
the details of either.
"With respect, however, to the in
teresting subject treated in that of the
5th, I can express but one sentiment
at this time, and that is a wish, a de
vout one, that, whatever my ultimate
determination shall be, it may be for
the best. The subject never recurs to
my mind but with additional poignan
cy ; and, from the declining state of
the health of my nephew, to whom my
concerns of a domestic and private na
ture are intrusted, it comes with aggra
vated force. But as the all-wise Dis
poser of events has hitherto watched
over my steps, I trust that, in the im
portant one I may soon be called upon
to take, he will mark the course so
plainly as that I cannot mistake the
way. In full hope of this, I will take
no measures for the present, that will
not leave me at liberty to decide from
circumstances, and the best lights I can
obtain on the subject.
" I shall be happy, in the mean time,
to see a cessation of the abuses of pub
lic officers, and of almost every measure
of government, with which some of the
gazettes are so strongly impregnated,
and which cannot fail, if persevered in
with the malignancy with which they
now teem, of rending the Union asun
der. The seeds of discontent, distrust,
and irritation which are so plentifully
sown, can scarcely fail to produce this
effect, and to mar that prospect of hap
piness which, perhaps, never beamed
with more effulgence upon any people

under the sun ; and this too at a time
when all Europe is gazing with admira
tion at the brightness of our prospects.
And for what is all this? Among
other things, to afford nuts for our
transatlantic — (what shall I call them ?)
— foes. " In a word, if government and the
officers of it are to be the constant
theme for newspaper abuse, and this
too without condescending to investi
gate the motives or the facts, it will be
impossible, I conceive, for any man liv
ing to manage the helm or to keep the
machine together. But I am running
from my text, and therefore will only
add assurances of the affectionate es
teem and regard with which I am, <fec."
To the remonstrances of his imme
diate advisers in the cabinet, were add
ed many more of the same tenor from
other friends and correspondents. He
had, in fact, already determined to re
tire at this time, and had accordingly
prepared a farewell address to the peo
ple for the occasion. But he had never
publicly declared this intention, and,
urged thus strongly by leading men of
all parties, he finally consented to re
main in office.
"Respecting the person who should
fill the office of vice-president," says
Marshall, " the public was divided.
The profound statesman who had been
called to the duties of that station, had
drawn upon himself a great degree of
obloquy by some political tracts, in
which he had labored to maintain the
proposition that a balance in govern-

Chap. VI.]

HE IS AGAIN ELECTED PRESIDENT.

513

ment was essential to the preservation
of liberty. In these disquisitions he
was supposed by his opponents to have
discovered sentiments in favor of dis
tinct orders in society ; and, although
he had spoken highly of the constitu
tion of the United States, it was im
agined that his balance could be main
tained only. by hereditary classes. He
was also understood to be friendly to
the system of finance which had been
adopted, and was believed to be among
the few who questioned the durability
of the French republic. His great ser
vices and acknowledged virtues were
therefore disregarded, and a competitor
was sought for among those who had
distinguished themselves in the opposi
tion. The choice was directed from
Mr. Jefferson by a constitutional restric
tion on the power of the electors, which
would necessarily deprive him of the
vote to be given by Virginia. It being
necessary to designate some other oppo
nent to Mr. Adams, George Clinton,
the governor of New York, was select
ed for this purpose.
" Throughout the war of the Revo
lution, this gentleman had filled the
office of chief magistrate of his native
State, and, under circumstances of real
difficulty, had discharged its duties
with a courage and an energy which
secured the esteem of the commander-
in-chief, and gave him a fair claim to
the favor of his country. Embracing
afterwards with ardor the system of
State supremacy, he had contributed
greatly to the rejection of the resolu

tions for investing Congress with the
power of collecting an impost on im
ported goods, and had been conspicuous
for his determined hostility to the con
stitution of the United States. His
sentiments respecting the measures of
the government were known to concur
with those of the minority in Con
gress." Both parties seemed confident in
their strength, and both made the ut
most exertions to insure success. On
opening the ballots in the senate
chamber (Feb. 13, 1793), it appeared
that the unanimous suffrage of his coun
try had been once more conferred on
General Washington, and that Mr. Ad
ams had received a plurality of the
votes* The ceremonial to be observed at
the inauguration was the subject of a
difference of opinion, and a cabinet
council was called to take the matter
into consideration. Jefferson and Ham
ilton thought that the oath ought to be
administered in private, and that one
of the judges of the supreme court
should attend to this duty at the presi
dent's own house. Knox and Ran
dolph were of a different opinion, and
decided that the ceremony should take
place in public. Washington coincided
with them in their views ; and it was
finally decided at a subsequent cabinet
meeting, on the first of March, that the
c The precise return was : For President — George
Washington, 132. For Vice-president — John Adams,
77 ; George Clinton, 50 ; Thomas Jefferson, 4 ; Aaron
Burr, 1.

514

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

inauguration should take place in the
senate chamber.
Among the senators who were pres
ent on this occasion, were John Lang-
don of New Hampshire, one of the
purest and most disinterested of the
Revolutionary veterans ; Oliver Ells
worth, from Connecticut, afterwards
chief-justice of the United States ; Ro
ger Sherman, also from Connecticut,
one of the committee for preparing the
Declaration of Independence ; Rufus
King, the eloquent statesman from
New York ; Robert Morris, the great
financier from Pennsylvania ; and James
Monroe, afterwards president of the
United States, from Virginia.*
The proceedings, as recorded in Mr.
Benton's Abridgment of the Debates
of Congress, were as follows :
"Agreeably to notice given by the
president of the United States on the
2d instant, he came to the senate
chamber and took his seat in the chair
usually assigned to the president of the
Senate, who, on this occasion, was seat
ed at the right, and in advance of the
president of the United States ; a seat
on the left, and also in advance, being
provided for Judge Cushing, appointed
to administer the oath. The doors of
the senate chamber being open, the
heads of the departments, foreign min
isters, the late speaker, and such mem
bers of the late House of Representa
tives as were in town, together with as

• See Documents [A, B, C, and D] at the end of this
chapter.

many other spectators as could be ac
commodated, were present.
" After a short pause, the president
of the Senate arose, and addressed the
president of the United States as fol
lows :
" ' Sir : — One of the judges of the Su
preme Court of the United States is
now present, and ready to administer
to you the oath required by the consti
tution to be taken by the president of
the United States.'
" On which the president of the Uni
ted States, rising from his seat, was
pleased to address the audience as fol
lows :
" ' Fellow-Citizens : — I am again
called upon, by the voice of my coun
try, to execute the functions of its chief
magistrate. When the occasion proper
for it shall arrive, I shall endeavor to
express the high sense I entertain of
this distinguished honor, and of the
confidence which has been reposed in
me by the people of United America.
" ' Previous to the execution of any
official act of the president, the consti
tution requires an oath of office. This
oath I am now about to take, and in
your presence ; that, if it shall be
found, during my administration of the
government, I have, in any instance,
violated, willingly or knowingly, the
injunction thereof, I may (besides in
curring constitutional punishment) be
subject to the upbraidings of all who
are now witnesses of the present solemn
ceremony.' "Judge Cushing then administered

Chap. VI.]

DESCRIPTION OF THE INAUGURATION.

515

the oath of office required by the con
stitution ; after which, the president of
the United States retired, and the spec
tators dispersed."
The record of proceedings thus given
by Mr. Benton, gives but a very imper
fect idea of the actual scene. Fortu
nately, an eye-witness, Arthur J. Stans-
bury, for twenty-five years a reporter
of Congress, has given us a very lively
and graphic description of the scene in
his " Recollections and Anecdotes of the
Presidents of the United States."* We
copy his description in full :
"But I once had," says Mr. Stans-
bury, " an opportunity far more favor
able of beholding this greatest of men,
under circumstances the best possible
for exhibiting him to the fullest advan
tage. It was a privilege which could
happen but once to any man, and I es
teem the hour when I enjoyed it as one
of the brightest moments I was ever
permitted to know. Its remembrance
yet glows vividly on my mind ; years
have not dimmed it ; the whole scene
is yet before me ; and I need not say
with what force repeated public occa
sions of a like kind have since recalled
it to remembrance. Yes, it was my fa
vored lot to see and hear President
Washington address the Congress of
the United States, when elected for the
last time. Of men now living, how
few can say the same !
" I was but a schoolboy at the time,
and had followed one of the many
• Published in Arthur's Home Gazette.

groups of people who, from all quar
ters, were making their way to the
Hall in Chestnut-street, at the corner of
Fifth, where the two Houses of Con
gress then held their sittings, and
where they were that day to be ad
dressed by the president, on the open
ing of his second term of office. Boys
can often manage to work their way
through a crowd better than men can ;
at all events, it so happened that I
succeeded in reaching the steps of the
Hall, from which elevation, looking in
every direction, I could see nothing but
human heads — a vast fluctuating sea,
swaying to and fro, and filling every
accessible place which commanded even
a distant view of the building. They
had congregated, not with the hope of
getting into the Hall, for that was
physically impossible, but that they
might see Washington. Many an anx
ious look was cast in the direction
from which he was expected to come,
till at length, true to the appointed
hour (he was the most punctual of
men), an agitation was observable on
the outskirts of the "crowd, which grad
ually opened and gave space for the
approach of an elegant white coach,
drawn by six superb white horses, hav
ing on its four sides beautiful designs
of the four seasons, painted by Cipriani.
It slowly made its way till it drew up
immediately in front of the Hall. The
rush was now tremendous. But as the
coach-door opened, there issued from it
two gentlemen, with long white wands,
who, with some difficulty, parted the

516

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

people, so as to open a passage from the
carriage to the steps, on which the for
tunate schoolboy had achieved a foot
ing, and whence the whole proceeding
could be distinctly seen. As the per
son of the president emerged from the
carriage, a universal shout rent the air,
and continued, as he very deliberately
mounted the steps. On reaching the
platform, he paused, looking back on
the carriage, thus affording to the anx
iety of the people the indulgence they
desired, of feasting their eyes upon his
person. Never did a more majestic
personage present himself to the public
gaze. He was within two feet of me ;
I could have touched his clothes ; but
I should as soon have thought of touch
ing an electric battery. Boy as I was,
I felt a^ in the presence of a divinity.
As he turned to enter the Hall, the
gentlemen with the white wands pre
ceded him, and, with still greater diffi
culty than before, repressed the people,
and cleared a way to the great stair
case. As he ascended, I ascended with
him, step by step, creeping close to the
wall, and almost hidden by the skirts
of his coat. Nobody looked at me ;
everybody was looking at him ; and
thus I was permitted, unnoticed, to
glide along, and, happily, to make my
way (where so many were vainly long
ing and struggling to enter) into the
lobby of the chamber of the House of
Representatives. Once in, I was safe ;
for had I even been seen by the officers
in attendance, it would have been im
possible to get me out again. I saw

near me a large pyramidal stove, which,
fortunately, had but little fire in it, and
on which I forthwith clambered, until I
had attained a secure perch, from which
every part of the Hall could be delib
erately and distinctly surveyed. De
pend upon it, I made use of my eyes.
" On either side of the broad aisle
that was left vacant in the centre, were
assembled the two houses of Congress.
As the president entered, all rose, and
remained standing till he had ascended
the steps at the upper end of the cham
ber, and taken his seat in the speaker's
chair. It was an impressive moment.
Notwithstanding that the spacious apart
ment, floor, lobby, galleries, and all ap
proaches, were crowded to their utmost
capacity, not a sound was heard; the
silence of expectation was unbroken and
profound ; every breath seemed sus
pended. He was dressed in a full suit
of the richest black velvet ; his lower
limbs in short-clothes with diamond
knee-buckles, and black silk stockings.
His shoes, which were brightly japan
ned, were surmounted with large square
silver buckles. His hair, carefully dis
played in the manner of the day, was
richly powdered, and gathered behind
into a black silk bag, on which was a
bow of black ribbon. In his hand he
carried a plain cocked hat, decorated
with the American cockade. He wore
by his side a light, slender dress-sword,
in a green shagreen scabbard, with a
richly ornamented hilt. His gait was
deliberate, his manner solemn but self-
possessed, and he presented, altogether,

Chap. VI.]

DESCRIPTION OF THE INAUGURATION.

517

the most august human figure I had
then, or have since beheld.
" At the head of the Senate stood
Thomas Jefferson, in a blue coat, single
breasted, with large bright basket-but
tons, his vest and small-clothes of crim
son. I remember being struck with his
animated countenance, of a brick-red
hue, his bright eye and foxy hair, as
well as by his tall, gaunt, ungainly form
and square shoulders. A perfect con
trast was presented by the pale reflec
tive face and delicate figure of James
Madison ; and above all, by the short,
burly, bustling form of General Knox,
with ruddy cheek, prominent eye, and
still more prominent proportions of an
other kind. In the semicircle which
was formed behind the chair, and on
either hand of the president, my boyish
gaze was attracted by the splendid
attire of the Chevalier d'Yrujo, the
Spanish ambassador, then the only for
eign minister near our infant govern
ment. His glittering star, his silk
chapeau bras, edged with ostrich feath
ers, his foreign air and courtly bearing,
contrasted strongly with those nobility
of nature's forming who stood around
him. It was a very fair representation
of the old world and the new. How
often has the same reflection occurred to
me since, on witnessing the glittering,
and now numerous, company of foreign
dignitaries collected round our presi
dent by an inauguration day, or the
recurrence of our national anniversary !
True, the individuals who form that
brilliant coterie are, for the most part,
Voi. IT— 66

men eminent for general intelligence, as
well as the virtues of private life — men
who meet, and well deserve, a cordial
welcome on our shores, and often cany
from it the sincerest regret. But how
do the personal sentiments and charac
ters of the men themselves put out the
blaze of the gold and diamonds with
which their governments had covered
them ! And if, even in the unadorned
presence of his successors, these decora
tions seem puerile in republican eyes,
how would they have faded away and
been lost in the chilling grandeur of
the public presence of Washington !
" Having retained his seat for a few
moments, while the members resumed
their seats, the president rose, and tak
ing from his breast a roll of manuscript,
proceeded to read his address. His
voice was full and sonorous, deep and
rich in its tones, free from that trumpet
ring which it could assume amid the
tumult of battle (and which is said to
have been distinctly heard above all its
roar), but sufficiently loud and clear to
fill the chamber, and be heard, with
perfect ease, in its most remote recesses.
The address was of considerable length ;
its topics, of course, I forget, for I was
too young to understand them ; I only
remember, in its latter part, some refer
ence to the Wabash River (then a new
name to my ear), and to claims or dis
putes on the part of the Indian tribes.
He read, as he did every thing else,
with a singular serenity and composure,
with manly ease and dignity, but with
out the smallest attempt at display.

518

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

"Having concluded, he laid the
manuscript upon the table before him,
and resumed his seat ; when, after a
slight pause, he rose and withdrew, the
members rising and remaining on their
feet until he left the chamber.
"The paper was then taken up by
Mr. Beckley, the clerk of the House,
and again read from beginning to end.
Beckley's enunciation, by the by, was
admirably clear, giving every syllable
of every word ; and I may say, he was
almost the only officer, whose official
duty it is to read, whom I ever heard
read well."
"This form having been gone through,
the members of the Senate retired, and
I took advantage of the bustle to de
scend from my unwonted and presump
tuous elevation, and mingle with the
dissolving crowd."
These recollections of Mr. Stansbury
present a much livelier view of the trans
actions of that memorable day, than that
which any reader's imagination can sup
ply by the aid of the official record.
Washington was now once more
plunged into the troubled ocean of
public affairs. Before following him
into new scenes of self-sacrifice and dis
interestedness in the service of his
country, we pause to notice a pleasing
act of private friendship, which, with
his usual delicacy, he calls an act of
simple justice. In consequence of the
active part which he had taken in the
French revolution, Washington's bosom
friend, Lafayette, had become a prisoner
to the king of Prussia, and was detained

in captivity. The Marchioness Lafa
yette, after being a prisoner in Paris, had
been suffered to retire to her husband's
estate, and reside there under the safe
guard of the municipality, without per
mission to correspond with her friends.
Ignorant of her actual residence, but
supposing that she might be suffering
for want of ready-money, Washington
sent her a considerable sum, and wrote
as follows :
"Madam : — If I had words that could
convey to you an adequate idea of my
feelings on the present situation of the
Marquis de Lafayette, this letter would
appear to 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. Nicholas Van Staphorst,
of Amsterdam, two thousand three
hundred and ten guilders, Holland cur
rency, equal to two hundred guineas,
subject to your orders.
" This sum is, I am certain, the least
I am indebted for services rendered to
me by the Marquis de Lafayette, of
which I never yet have received the
account. I could add much, but it is
best, perhaps, that I should say little
on this subject. Your goodness will
supply any deficiency.
"The uncertainty of your situation,
after all the inquiries I have made, has
occasioned a delay in this address and
remittance ; and even now, the measure
adopted is more the effect of a desire
to find where you are, than from any
knowledge I have obtained of your resi
dence.

Chap. VI.]

WAR BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND.

519

" At all times, and under all circum
stances, you and yours will possess the
affectionate regards of him who has
the honor to be, &c."
Shortly after writing this letter
Washington received one from the
Marchioness, and still later another,
both written before the above letter
reached her. She requested Washing
ton's interference with the Prussian
government on behalf of Lafayette ;
and was desirous, if he could be re
leased, that he and his family should re
side in the United States. Every thing
was done that could be done, by Wash
ington and the American ministers in
Europe, to obtain Lafayette's release ;
but it was not effected till several years
after, and then through other means.
During the recess of Congress, Wash
ington twice . visited Mount Vernon ;
once, for a few days, in April,
and again, for two or three
weeks, in June and July. On the 4th
of July he was present at -the celebra
tion of the national anniversary by the
citizens of Alexandria. He was pre
vented from spending more time at
Mount Vernon by the pressure of pub
lic business, which was now assuming a
new and very unpleasant aspect.
During Washington's short visit to
Mount Vernon, in April, he received a
letter from Jefferson, dated April 7th,
informing him that France had declared
war against England and Holland. In
stantly perceiving the danger of the
United States becoming involved in the
hostilities of these nations, Washington,

1793.

on the 12th of April, wrote in reply to
Jefferson : " War having actually com
menced between France and Great
Britain, it behooves the government of
this country to use every means in its
power to prevent the citizens thereof
from embroiling us with either of those
powers, by endeavoring to maintain a
strict neutrality. I therefore require
that you will give the subject mature
consideration, that such measures as
shall be deemed most likely to effect
this desirable purpose may be adopted
without delay; for I have understood
that vessels are already designated as
privateers, and are preparing accord
ingly. Such other measures as may be
necessary for us to pursue against events,
which it may not be in our power to
avoid or control, you will also think of,
and lay them before me on my arrival
in Philadelphia ; for which place I shall
set out to-morrow, but will leave it to
the advices which I may receive to-night
by the post, to determine whether it is
to be by the direct route, or by the one
I proposed to come, that is, by Read
ing, <fcc."
The tenor of this letter shows that
Washington was fully aware of the im
portance of the emergency in our for
eign relations which had now arisen;
and the result showed that, as usual, he
was fully equal to the occasion. The
difficulty of the position arose from the
fact already adverted to — that of the
two great political parties then existing,
one was in favor of direct aid to the
French revolutionists, while the other,

520

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

desirous to remain neutral while the
European contest was going on, was
charged by its opponents with partial
ity to England. It remained for Wash
ington, by that decision of character
and inflexible firmness for which he was
so remarkable, to inaugurate that sys
tem of neutrality and non-interference
in the affairs of Europe, which has ever
since constituted the foreign policy of
this country.
On his return to Philadelphia, Wash
ington summoned a meeting of the cab
inet, at the same time sending to each
member a series of questions to be con
sidered as, preparatory to the meeting.
These questions,* thirteen in number,
all referred to the measures to be taken
by the president in consequence of the
revolution which had overthrown the
French monarchy; of the new organi
zation of a republic in that country ; of
the appointment of a minister from that
republic to the United States, and of
the war declared by the National Con
vention of France against Great Britain.
The first of these questions, says Mr.
Adams,f was, whether a proclamation
should issue to prevent interferences of
our citizens in the war; and whether
the proclamation should or should not
contain a declaration of neutrality.
The second was, whether a minister
from the republic of France should be
received. Upon these two questions
the opinion of the cabinet was unani-
0 See document [F] at the end of this chapter.
f John Quincy Adams on Washington's Proclamation
of Neutrality.

mous in the affirmative — that a procla
mation of neutrality should issue, and
that the minister from the French re
public should be received. But upon
all the other questions, the opinions of
the four heads of the departments were
equally divided. They were indeed
questions of difficulty and delicacy equal
to their importance. No less than
whether, after a revolution in France
annihilating the government with which
the treaties of alliance and of commerce
had been contracted, the treaties them
selves were to be considered binding as
between the nations; and particularly
whether the stipulation of guarantee to
France of her possessions in the West
Indies, was binding upon the United
States to the extent of imposing upon
them the obligation of taking side with
France in the war. As the members of
the cabinet disagreed in their opinions
upon these questions, and as there was
no immediate necessity for deciding
them, the further consideration of them
was postponed, and they were never
afterwards resumed. While these dis
cussions of the cabinet of Washington
were held, the minister plenipotentiary
from the French republic arrived in
this country. He had been appointed
by the National Convention of France,
which had dethroned, tried, sentenced
to death, and executed Louis the Six
teenth, abolished the monarchy, and
proclaimed a republic one and indi
visible, under the auspices of liberty,
equality, and fraternity, as thenceforth
the government of France. By all the

Chap. VI.]

PROCLAMATION OF NEUTRALITY.

521

rest of Europe they were then consid
ered as revolted subjects in rebellion
against their sovereign ; and were not
recognized as constituting an independ
ent government.
Hamilton and Knox were of opinion
that the minister from France should
be conditionally received, with the res
ervation of the question, whether the
United States were still bound to fulfil
the stipulations of the treaties. They
inclined to the opinion that treaties
themselves were annulled by the revo
lution of the government in France,—
an opinion to which the example of the
revolutionary government had given
plausibility, by declaring some of the
treaties made by the abolished mon
archy no longer binding upon the na
tion. Mr. Hamilton thought, also, that
France had no just claim to the fulfil
ment of the stipulation of guarantee,
because that stipulation, and the whole
treaty of alliance in which it was con
tained, were professedly, and on the
face of them, only defensive, while the
war which the French Convention had
declared against Great Britain, was on
the part of France offensive, the first
declaration having been issued by her,
— that the United States were at all
events absolved from the obligation of
the guarantee by their inability to per
form it, and that under the constitution
of the United States the interpretation
of treaties, and the obligations resulting
from them, were within the competency
of the executive department, at least
concurrently with the legislature. It

does not appear that these opinions
were debated or contested in the cabi
net. By their unanimous advice the
proclamation was issued, and it was
decided to receive a minister plenipo
tentiary of the French republic. Thus
the executive administration did as
sume and exercise the power of recog
nizing a revolutionary foreign govern
ment as a legitimate sovereign, with
with whom the ordinary diplomatic re
lations were to be entertained. But
the proclamation contained no allusion
whatever to the United States and
France, nor of course to the article of
guarantee or its obligations.
Whatever doubts may have been en
tertained by a large portion of the peo
ple, of the right of the executive to
acknowledge a new and revolutionary
government, not recognized by any
other sovereign State, or of the sound
policy of receiving, without waiting for
the sanction of Congress, a minister
from a republic which had commenced
her career by putting to death the king
whom she had dethroned, and which
had rushed into war with almost all the
rest of Europe, no manifestation of such
doubts was publicly made. A current
of popular favor sustained the French
revolution, at that stage of its progress,
which nothing could resist ; and far from
indulging any question of the right of
the president to recognize a new revolu
tionary government, by receiving from
it the credentials which none but sov
ereigns can grant, the American people
would, at that moment, have scarcely

522

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

endured an instant of hesitation on the
part of the president, which should
have delayed for an hour the reception
of the minister from the republic of
France. But the proclamation enjoin
ing neutrality upon the people of the
United States, indirectly counteracted
the torrent of partiality in favor of
France, and was immediately assailed
with intemperate violence in many of
the public journals. The right of the
executive to issue any proclamation of
neutrality was fiercely and pertinacious
ly denied, as a usurpation of legislative
authority; and in that particular case it
was charged with forestalling and pre
maturely deciding the question whether
the United States were bound, by the
guarantee to France of her West India
possessions in the treaty of alliance, to
take side in the war with her against
Great Britain — and with deciding it
against France.
The proclamation of neutrality was
signed on the 22d of April, 1793, and
was immediately published. "This
measure," says Mr. Sparks, "both in
regard to its character and its conse
quences, was one of the most important
of Washington's administration. It was
the basis of a system by which the in
tercourse with foreign nations was reg
ulated, and which was rigidly adhered
to. In fact, it was the only step that
could have saved the United States
from being drawn into the vortex of
European wars, which raged with so
much violence for a long time after
wards. Its wisdom and its good effects

are now so obvious, on a calm review of
past events, that one is astonished at
the opposition it met with, and the
strifes it enkindled, even after making
due allowance for the passions and pre
judices which had hitherto been at work
in producing discord and divisions."
The proclamation of neutrality fur
nished the first occasion, which was
thought a fit one, for openly assaulting
a character, around which the affections
of the people had thrown an armor
theretofore deemed sacred, and for di
rectly criminating the conduct of the
president himself. It was only by op
posing passions to passions, by bringing
the feeling in favor of France into con
flict with those in favor of the chief
magistrate, that the enemies of his ad
ministration could hope to obtain the
victory. For a short time, the opponents of
this measure treated it with some de
gree of delicacy. The opposition prints
occasionally glanced at the executive ;
considered all governments, including
that of the United States, as naturally
hostile to the liberty of the people ;
and ascribed to this disposition the
combination of European governments
against France, and the apathy with
which this combination was contem
plated by the executive. At the same
time, the most vehement declamations
were published, for the purpose of in
flaming the resentments of the people
against Britain ; of enhancing the obli
gations of America to France ; of con
firming the opinions, that the coalition

Chap. VI.]

ARRIVAL OF MR. GENET.

523

of European monarchs was directed
not less against the United States than
against Great Britain, and that those
who did not avow this sentiment were
the friends of that coalition, and equal
ly the enemies of America and France.
These publications, in the first in
stance sufficiently bitter, quickly as
sumed a highly increased degree of ac
rimony. As soon as the commotions which
succeeded the deposition of Louis XVI.
had, in some degree, subsided, the at
tention of the French government was
directed to the United States, and the
resolution was taken to recall the min
ister who had been appointed by the
king, and to replace him with one who
might be expected to enter, with more
enthusiasm, into the views of the re
public. Edmund Charles Genet, a man of
considerable talents, and of an ardent
temper, was selected for this purpose.
The letters he brought to the executive
of the United States, and his instruc
tions, which he occasionally communi
cated, were, in a high degree, flattering
to the nation, and decently respectful
to its government. But Mr. Genet was
also furnished with private instructions,
which the course of subsequent events
tempted him to publish. These indi
cated that, if the American executive
should not be found sufficiently compli
ant with the views of France, the reso
lution had been taken to appeal to the
people of the United States against
their own government ; and thus to ef

fect an object which legitimate negotia
tions might fail to accomplish.
Mr. Genet possessed many qualities
which were peculiarly adapted to the
objects of his mission ; but he seems to
have been betrayed by the flattering
reception which was given him, and by
the universal fervor expressed for his
republic, into a too speedy disclosure
of his intentions.
On the 8th of April he arrived, not
at Philadelphia, but at Charleston, in
South Carolina, a port whose contiguity
to the West Indies would give it pecu
liar convenience as a resort for priva
teers. He was received by the governor
of that State, and by its citizens, with
an enthusiasm well calculated to dis
sipate every doubt he might previously
have entertained concerning the dis
positions on which he was to operate.
At this place he continued for several
days, receiving extravagant marks of
public attachment ; during which time
he undertook to authorize the fitting
and arming of vessels in that port, en
listing men, and giving commissions to
cruise and commit hostilities on nations
with whom the United States were at
peace. The captures made by these
cruisers were brought into port, and
the consuls of France were assuming,
under the authority of Mr. Genet, to
hold courts of admiralty on them, to
try, condemn, and authorize their sale.
From Charleston, Mr. Genet pro
ceeded by land to Philadelphia, receiv
ing on his journey, at the different
towns through which he passed, such

524

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

marks of enthusiastic attachment as
had never before been lavished on a
foreign minister. On the 16th of May,
he arrived at Philadelphia, preceded
by the intelligence of his transactions
in South Carolina. This information
did not diminish the extravagant trans
ports of joy with which he was wel
comed by the great body of the in
habitants. Means had been taken to
render his entry pompous and tri
umphal ; and the opposition papers
exultingly stated that he was met at
Gray's Ferry by " crowds who flocked
from every avenue of the city to meet
the republican ambassador of an allied
nation." The day succeeding his arrival, he
received addresses of congratulation
from particular societies, and from the
citizens of Philadelphia, who waited on
him in a body, in which they expressed
their fervent gratitude for the " zealous
and disinterested aids" which the French
people had furnished to America, un
bounded exultation at the success with
which their arms had been crowned,
and a positive conviction that the safety
of the United States depended on the
establishment of the Republic. The
answers to these addresses were well
calculated to preserve the idea of a
complete fraternity between the two
nations, and that their interests were
identified. The day after being thus accredited
by the citizens of Philadelphia, he was
presented to the president, by whom
he was received with frankness, and

with expressions of a sincere and cor
dial regard for his nation. In the con
versation which took place on this
occasion, Mr. Genet gave the most ex
plicit assurances that, in consequence of
the distance of the United States from
the theatre of action, and of other
circumstances, France did not wish to
engage them in the war, but would
willingly leave them to pursue their
happiness and prosperity in peace. The
more ready faith was given to these
declarations, because it was believed
that France might derive advantages
from the neutrality of America, which
would be a full equivalent for any
services which she could render as a
belligerent. Before Genet had reached Philadel
phia, however, a long catalogue of com
plaints, partly founded on his proceed
ings in Charleston, had been made by
the British minister to the American
executive. This catalogue was composed of the
assumptions of sovereignty already men
tioned, — assumptions calculated to ren
der America an instrument of hostility
to be wielded by France against those
powers with which she might be at war.
These were still further aggravated
by the commission of actual hostilities
within the territories of the United
States. The ship Grange, a British
vessel which had been cleared out from
Philadelphia, was captured by the
French frigate L' Ambuscade within the
Capes of the Delaware, while on her
way to the ocean.

Chap. VI.]

PRESUMPTION OF GENET.

525

The prizes thus unwarrantably made,
being brought within the power of the
American government, Mr. Hammond,
among other things, demanded a resti
tution of them.
On many of the points suggested by
the conduct of Mr. Genet, and by the
memorials of the British minister, it
would seem impossible that any differ
ence of opinion could exist among in
telligent men not under the dominion
of a blind infatuation. Accordingly it
was agreed in the cabinet, without a
dissenting voice, that the jurisdiction of
every independent nation, within the
limits of its own territory, being of a
nature to exclude the exercise of any
authority therein by a foreign power,
the proceedings complained of, not be
ing warranted by any treaty, were usur
pations of national sovereignty, and
violations of neutral rights, a repetition
of which it was the duty of the govern
ment to prevent.
It was also agreed that the efficacy of
the laws should be tried against those
citizens of the United States who had
joined in perpetrating the offence.
The question of restitution, except
as to the Grange, was more dubious.
The cabinet agreed, however, that the
original owners might claim indemnifi
cation, and that if the property was not
restored by the captors, the value of it
ought to be paid by the government of
the United States.
Genet was much dissatisfied with
these decisions of the American govern
ment. He denounced them as contrary
Vol. II.— 67

to natural right, and subversive of the
treaties by which the two nations were
connected. In his exposition of these
treaties, he claimed, for his own coun
try, all that the two nations were re
stricted from conceding to others, there
by converting negative limitations into
an affirmative grant of privileges to
France. Without noticing a want of decorum
in some of the expressions which Genet
had employed, he was informed that
the subjects on which his letter treated
had, from respect to him, been recon
sidered by the executive ; but that no
cause was perceived for changing the
system which had been adopted. He
was further informed that, in the opin
ion of the president, the United States
owed it to themselves, and to the na
tions in their friendship, to expect, as a
reparation for the offence of infringing
their sovereignty, that the vessels thus
illegally equipped would depart from
their ports.
Genet was not disposed to acquiesce
in these decisions. Adhering to his
own construction of the existing treaty,
he affected to consider the measures of
the American government as infractions
of it, which no power in the nation
had a right to make, unless the United
States in Congress assembled should
determine that their solemn engage
ments should no longer be performed.
Intoxicated with the sentiments ex
pressed by a great portion of the peo
ple, and unacquainted with the firm
character of Washington, he seems to

526

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

have expected that the popularity of
his nation would enable him to over
throw the administration, or to render
it subservient to his views. It is dif
ficult otherwise to account for his per
sisting to disregard its decisions, and for
passages with which his letters abound,
such as the following :
"Every obstruction by the govern
ment of the United States to the arming
of French vessels must be an attempt
on the rights of man, upon which re
pose the independence and laws of the
United States ; a violation of the ties
which unite the people of France and
America; and even a manifest contradic
tion of the system of neutrality of the
president; for, in fact, if our merchant
vessels, or others, are not allowed to
arm themselves, when the French alone
are resisting the league of all the tyrants
against the liberty of the people, they
will be exposed to inevitable ruin in
going out of the ports of the United
States, which is certainly not the inten
tion of the people of America. Their
fraternal voice has resounded from
every quarter around me, and their
accents are not equivocal. They are
pure as the hearts of those by whom
they are expressed, and the more they
have touched my sensibility, the more
they must interest in the happiness of
America the nation I represent ; — the
more I wish, sir, that the federal gov
ernment should observe, as far as in
their power, the public engagements
contracted by both nations ; and that,
by this generous and prudent conduct,

they will give at least to the world the
example of a true neutrality, which
does not consist in the cowardly aban
donment of their friends in the moment
when danger menaces them, but in
adhering strictly, if they can do no
better, to the obligations they have
contracted with them. It is by such
proceedings that they will render them
selves respectable to all the powers ;
that they will preserve their friends
and deserve to augment their numbers."
A few days previous to the reception
of the letter from which the above is
an extract, two citizens of the United
States, who had been engaged by Genet
in Charleston to cruise in the service of
France, were arrested by the civil
magistrate, in pursuance of the deter
mination formed by the executive for
the prosecution of persons having thus
offended against the laws. Genet de
manded their release in the following
extraordinary terms :
" I have this moment been informed
that two officers in the service of the
republic of France, citizen Gideon Hen-
field and John Singletary, have been
arrested on board the privateer of the
French republic, the Citizen Genet, and
conducted to prison. The crime laid
to their charge — the crime which my
mind cannot conceive, and which my
pen almost refuses to state — is the serv
ing of France, and defending with her
children the common glorious cause of
liberty. " Being ignorant of any positive law
or treaty which deprives Americans of

Chap. VI.]

A JACOBIN CLUB IN PHILADELPHIA.

527

this privilege, and authorizes officers of
police arbitrarily to take mariners in
the service of France from on board
their vessels, I call upon your inter
vention, sir, and that of the president
of the United States, in order to ob
tain the immediate releasement of the
above-mentioned officers, who have ac
quired, by the sentiments animating
them, and by the act of their engage
ment, anterior to every act to the con
trary, the right of French citizens, if they
have lost that of American citizens."
Such an insolent style of address as
this could not be otherwise than deep
ly offensive to Washington. He must
have regarded this, and most of the
other effusions of Genet, as studied in
sults, not only to himself, but to the
country of which he was the chief
magistrate. Yet, in no single instance
did the administration, in its communi
cations with Genet, permit itself to be
betrayed into the use of one intem
perate expression. The firmness with
which his extravagant pretensions were
resisted, proceeding entirely from a
sense of duty and conviction of right,
was unaccompanied with any marks of
that resentment which his language
and his conduct were alike calculated
to inspire.
Genet's intemperate language and in
solent conduct arose from a belief that
the people were ready to support his
pretensions, in opposition to their own
government. This belief was strength
ened by the proceedings and publica
tions of the party opposed to the ad

ministration. Civic festivals, and other
public assemblages of people, at which
the ensigns of France were displayed
in union with those of America, — at
which the red cap, as a symbol of
French liberty and fraternity, triumph
antly passed from head to head,— at
which toasts were given expressive of
a desire to identify the people of
America with those of France, and,
under the imposing guise of adhering
to principles not to men, containing
allusions to the influence of the presi
dent which could not be mistaken, —
appeared to Genet to indicate a tem
per extremely favorable to his hopes,
and very different from that which
would be required for the preserva
tion of an honest neutrality. Through
the medium of the press, these senti
ments were communicated to the pub
lic, and were represented as flowing
from the hearts of the great body of
the people.
Soon after the arrival of Genet, a
democratic society was formed in Phil
adelphia on the model of the Jacobin
clubs in Paris. An anxious solicitude
for the preservation of freedom, the
very existence of which was menaced
by a "European confederacy transcend
ent in power and unparalleled in in
iquity," which was endangered also by
"the pride of wealth and arrogance of
power" displayed within the United
States, was the motive assigned for
the association. "A constant circula
tion of useful information, and a lib
eral communication of republican sen-

528

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

timents, were thought to be the best
antidotes to any political poison with
which the vital principle of civil lib
erty might be attacked ;" and to give
the more extensive operation to their
labors, a corresponding committee was
appointed, through whom they would
communicate with other societies which
might be established on similar princi
ples throughout the United States.
Faithful to their founder, and true
to the real objects of their association,
these societies continued, during the
term of their existence, to be the reso
lute champions of all the encroach
ments attempted by the agents of the
French republic on the government of
the United States, and the steady de-
famers of the views and measures of
the American executive.
Thus strongly supported, Genet per
sisted in his construction of the treaties
between the two nations ; and, in de
fiance of the positive determination of
the government, continued to act ac
cording to that construction.
At this period Washington was called
to Mount Vernon by urgent business,
which detained him less than three
weeks ; and, in his absence, the heads
of departments superintended the ex
ecution of those rules which had been
previously established.
In this short interval a circumstance
occurred, strongly marking the rash
ness of Genet, and his disrespect to
the executive of the United States.
The Little Sarah, an English mer
chantman, had been captured by a

French frigate, and brought into the
port of Philadelphia, where she was
completely equipped as a pnwateer,
and was just about to sail on a cruise,
under the name of le petit Democrat,
when Hamilton communicated her sit
uation to Jefferson and Knox, the sec
retaries of state and of war; in conse
quence of which, Governor Mifflin was
desired to cause an examination of the
fact. The warden of the port was di
rected to institute the proper inquiries ;
and, late in the evening of the sixth of
July, he reported her situation, and
that she was to sail the next day.
In pursuance of the instructions
which had been given by the presi
dent, the governor immediately sent
Secretary Dallas for the purpose of
prevailing on Genet to relieve him
from the employment of force, by de
taining the vessel in port until the
arrival of Washington, who was then
on his way from Mount Vernon. Mr.
Dallas communicated this message to
the French minister in terms as con
ciliatory as its nature would permit.
On receiving it, he gave aloose to the
most extravagant passion. After ex
claiming with vehemence against the
measure, he complained, in strong
terms, and with many angry epithets,
of the ill treatment which he had re
ceived from some of the officers of
the general government, which he con
trasted with the cordial attachment
that was expressed by the people at
large for his nation. He ascribed the
conduct of those officers to principles

Chap. VI.]

INTEMPERATE LANGUAGE OF GENET.

529

inimical to the cause of France and of
liberty. He insinuated that, by their
influence, Washington had been mis
led; and observed, with considerable
emphasis, that the president was not
the sovereign of this country. The
powers of peace and war being vested
in Congress, it belonged to that body
to decide those questions growing out
of treaties which might involve peace
or war ; and the president, therefore,
ought to have assembled the national
legislature before he ventured to issue
his proclamation of neutrality, or to
prohibit, by his instructions to the
State governors, the enjoyment of the
particular rights which France claimed
under the express stipulations of the
treaty of commerce. The executive
construction of that treaty was neither
just nor obligatory ; and he would
make no engagement which might be
construed into a relinquishment of
rights which his constituents deemed
indispensable. In the course of this
vehement and angry declamation, he
spoke of publishing his correspondence
with the officers of government, to
gether with a narrative of his proceed
ings ; and said that, although the ex
isting causes would warrant an abrupt
departure, his regard for the people of
America would induce him to remain
here, amidst the insults and disgusts
that he daily suffered in his official
character from the public officers, un
til the meeting of Congress ; and if
that body should agree in the opin
ions and support the measures of the

president, he would certainly withdraw,
and leave the dispute to be adjusted
between the two nations themselves.
His attention being again called by
Mr. Dallas to the particular subject,
he peremptorily refused to enter into
any arrangements for suspending the
departure of the privateer, and cau
tioned him against any attempt to
seize her, as she belonged to the re
public ; and, in defence of the honor
of her flag, would unquestionably repel
force by force.
On receiving the report of Mr. Dal
las, Governor Mifflin ordered out one
hundred and twenty militia, for the
purpose of taking possession of the
privateer ; and communicated the case,
with all its circumstances, to the offi
cers of the executive government. On
the succeeding day, Jefferson waited
on Genet, in the hope of prevailing on
him to pledge his word that the pri
vateer should not leave the port until
the arrival of the president. The min
ister was not less intemperate with
Jefferson than he had been with Dal
las. He indulged himself in a repeti
tion of nearly the same passionate lan
guage, and again spoke, with extreme
harshness, of the conduct of the execu
tive. He persisted in refusing to make
any engagements for the detention of
the vessel; and, after his rage had in
some degree spent itself, he entreated
that no attempt might be made to
take possession of her, as her crew
was on board, and force would be re
pelled by force.

530

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

He then also said that she was not
ready to sail immediately. She would
change her position, and fall down the
river a small distance on that day ; but
was not yet ready to sail.
In communicating this conversation
to Governor Mifflin, Jefferson stated
his conviction that the privateer would
remain in the, river until the president
should decide on her case ; in conse
quence of which, the governor dis
missed the militia, and requested the
advice of the heads of departments on
the course which it would be proper
for him to pursue. Both the governor
and Jefferson stated, that in reporting
the conversation between Genet and
himself, Dallas had said that Genet
threatened, in express terms, " to ap
peal from the president to the people."
Thus braved and insulted in the
very heart of the country, Hamilton
and Knox were of opinion that it was
expedient to take immediate measures
for establishing a battery on Mud Isl
and, under cover of a party of militia,
with directions, that if the vessel should
attempt to depart before the pleasure
of the president should be known con
cerning her, military coercion should
be employed to arrest her progress.
The secretary of state dissenting
from this opinion, the measure was
not adopted. The vessel fell down to
Chester before the arrival of Washing
ton, and sailed on her cruise before the
power of the government could be in
terposed. On the 11th of July, Washington

reached Philadelphia, and requested
that the cabinet ministers would con
vene at his house the next day at nine
in the morning.
Among the important papers placed
in his hands, which required imme
diate attention, were those which re
lated to the Little Democrat. On
reading them, a messenger was imme
diately dispatched for Jefferson, but he
had retired, indisposed, to his seat in
the country. Upon hearing this, the
president instantly addressed a letter
to him, of which the following is an
extract : " What is to be done in the
case of the Little Sarah, now at Ches
ter ? Is the minister of the French
republic to set the acts of this govern
ment at defiance with impunity, and
then threaten the executive with an
appeal to the people ? What must
the world think of such conduct, and
of the government of the United States
in submitting to it ?
"These are serious questions. Cir
cumstances press for decision ; and as
you have had time to consider them
(upon me they come unexpectedly), I
wish to know your opinion upon them
even before to-morrow, for the vessel
may then be gone."
In answer to this letter, Jefferson
stated the assurances which had on
that day been given to him by Genet,
that the vessel would not sail before
the president's decision respecting her
should be made. In consequence of
this information, immediate coercive
measures were suspended ; and in the

Chap. VI.]

INSULTING LETTER OF GENET.

531

council of the succeeding day it was
determined to retain ih port all priva
teers which had been equipped by any
of the belligerent powers within the
United States. Genet was informed
of this determination, but in contempt
of it, the Little Democrat proceeded
on her cruise. This proceeding fur
nished a subject of exultation to the
opponents of the government, as did
also the acquittal by a Charleston jury
of Gideon Henfield, who had been ar
rested for shipping on board a French
privateer, he being an American citi
zen. While the correspondence between
Genet and Jefferson concerning this af
fair was still going on, the former ob
tained cause of complaint on his part,
and urged that the British were in the
habit of taking French property out of
American vessels, in contravention of
the principles of neutrality avowed by
the rest of Europe. His letters to Jef
ferson on this subject were still mor?
insulting than those which had prece
ded them. On the 9th of July he
wrote to Jefferson, demanding an in
stant answer to the question — What
measures the president had taken, or
would take, to cause the American flag
to be respected? Receiving no an
swer, towards the end of July he again
addressed the secretary of state on the
subject. In this extraordinary letter,
after complaining of the insults offered
to the American flag by seizing the
property of Frenchmen confided to its
protection, he added: "Your political

rights are counted for nothing. In
vain do the principles of neutrality es
tablish that friendly vessels make friend
ly goods ; in vain, sir, does the president
of the United States endeavor, by his
proclamation, to reclaim the observa
tion of this maxim ; in vain does the
desire of preserving peace lead to sacri
fice the interests of France to that of
the moment ; in vain does the thirst of
riches preponderate over honor in the
political balance of America : — all this
management, all this condescension, all
this humility, end in nothing ; our ene
mies laugh at it ; and the French, too
confident, are punished for having be
lieved that the American nation had a
flag, that they had some respect for
their laAVS, some conviction of their
strength, and entertained some senti
ment of their dignity. It is not possi
ble for me, sir, to paint to you all my
sensibility at this scandal, which tends
to the diminution of your commerce, to
the oppression of ours, and to the de
basement and vilification of republics.
It is for the Americans to make known
their generous indignation at this out
rage ; and I must confine myself to
demand of you, a second time, to in
form me of the measures which you
have taken in order to obtain restitu
tion of the property plundered from
my fellow-citizens under the protection
of your flag. It is from our government
they have learned that the Americans
were our allies, that the American na
tion was sovereign, and that they knew
how to make themselves respected. It

532

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

is then under the very same sanction of
the French nation that they have con
fided their property and persons to the
safeguard of the American flag, and on
her they submit the care of causing
those rights to be respected. But if
our fellow-citizens have been deceived,
if you are not in a condition to main
tain the sovereignty of your people,
speak ; we have guaranteed it when
slaves, we shall be able to render it
formidable, having become freemen."
On the day preceding the date of this
offensive letter, Jefferson had answered
that of the 9th of July ; and, without
noticing the unbecoming style in which
the decision of the executive was de
manded, had avowed and defended the
opinion that, " by the general law of
nations, the goods of an enemy found
in the vessels of a friend, are laAvful
prize." This fresh insult might there
fore be passed over in silence.
While a hope remained that the
temperate forbearance of the president,
and the unceasing manifestations of his
friendly dispositions towards the French
republic, might induce the minister of
that nation to respect the rights of the
United States, and to abstain from vio
lations of their sovereignty, an anxious
solicitude not to impair the harmony
which he wished to maintain between
the two republics, had restrained him
from adopting those measures respect
ing Genet which his conduct required.
He had seen a foreign minister usurp,
within the territories of the United
States, some of the most important

rights of sovereignty, and persist, after
the prohibition of the government, in
the exercise of those rights. In as
serting this extravagant claim, so in
compatible with national independence,
the spirit in which it originated had
been pursued, and the haughty style
of a superior had been substituted for
the respectful language of diplomacy.
He had seen the same minister under
take to direct the civil government,
and to pronounce, in opposition to the
decisions of the executive, in what de
partments the constitution of the Uni
ted States had placed certain great
national powers. To render this state
of things more peculiarly critical and
embarrassing, the person most instru
mental in producing it had, from his
arrival, thrown himself into the arms of
the people, stretched out to receive
him ; and was emboldened by their fa
vor to indulge the hope of succeeding
in his endeavors, either to overthrow
their government, or to bend it to his
will. But the full experiment had now
been made ; and the result was a con
viction not to be resisted, that modera
tion would only invite additional in
juries, and that the present insufferable
state of things could be terminated only
by procuring the removal of the French
minister, or by submitting to become,
in his hands, the servile instrument of
hostility against the enemies of his na
tion. Information was continually re
ceived from every quarter, of fresh
aggressions on the principles established
by the government ; and, while the ex-

Chap. VI.]

RECALL OF GENET REQUESTED.

533

ecutive was thus openly disregarded
and contemned, the members of the ad
ministration were reproached in all the
papers of an active and restless opposi
tion, as the violators of the national
faith, the partisans of monarchy, and
the enemies of liberty and of France.
The unwearied efforts to preserve
that station in which the various trea
ties in existence had placed the nation,
were incessantly calumniated as infrac
tions of those treaties, and ungrateful
attempts to force the United States into
a war against France.
The judgment of Washington was
never hastily formed ; but, once made
up, it was seldom to be shaken. Before
the last letter of Genet was communica
ted to him, he had decided to terminate
future intercourse with him.
In a cabinet council the whole mat
ter was carefully reviewed, and it was
unanimously agreed that Gouverneur
Morris, the American minister at Paris,
should present the whole case to the
French government, and request Ge
net's recall. The faction by whom he
had been originally sent out having
passed out of power, this was easily
effected. At the same time the cabinet, under
Washington's direction, drew up a sys
tem of rules to be observed by the bel
ligerents in the ports of the United
States. These rules evidence the set
tled purpose of the executive faithfully
to observe all the national engagements,
and honestly to perform the duties of
that neutrality in which the war found
Vol. II.— 68

them, and in which those engagements
left them free to remain.
Neutrality between belligerents is a
difficult and delicate part to sustain. It
was not France alone that advanced ex
traordinary pretensions. The British
government issued orders for stopping
all neutral ships, laden with provisions,
bound for the ports of France ; thus
declaring that country in a state of
blockade. The National Convention of
France had, indeed, set the example of
this by an act of the same tendency,
doubly rash, because impotent. But
this, however strong a plea for retali
ating upon France, was none for making
America suffer. Corn, indeed, formed
the chief export of the United States ;
and to prohibit them from shipping it
at all — for the new regulation amounted
in fact to this — was a grievance which
the most pacific neutral could scarcely
submit to. Another continually recur
ring source of complaint on the part of
the United States against England, was
the pressing of their seamen, which the
difficulty of distinguishing between na
tives of the two countries rendered of
frequent occurrence and tardy rectifica
tion. These causes came to swell the
tide of faction in America, as the en
emies of England and of authoritative
institutions took advantage of them to
raise their cry ; whilst the Anti-gallican,
on the other hand, were as indignant
against the arrogance of the French
and of their envoy.
Genet was in New York, receiving
all sorts of demonstrations of appro-

534

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Sept., 1T93

bation and attachment from his political
friends, when he received notice of his
recall. His rage was indescri
bable. He wrote to Jefferson
a letter full of the most atro
cious abuse of Washington and the
administration generally, in which Jef
ferson himself was not spared. But as
his powers of mischief were now at an
end, very slight notice was taken of his
splenetic effusions. It appeared in the
sequel, however, that he had not con
fined his attempts to employ the force
of America against the enemies of his
country to maritime enterprises. On
his first arrival, he is understood to
have planned an expedition against the
Floridas, to be carried on from Geor
gia ; and another against Louisiana, to
be carried on from the western parts of
the United States. Intelligence was
received that the principal officers were
engaged ; and the temper of the people
inhabiting the western country was such
as to furnish some ground for the ap
prehension that the restraints which the
executive was capable of imposing,
would be found too feeble to prevent
the execution of this plan. The remon
strances of the Spanish commissioners
on this subject, however, were answered
with explicit assurances that the gov
ernment would effectually interpose to
defeat any expedition from the terri
tories of the United States against those
of Spain ; and the governor of Ken
tucky was requested to co-operate in
frustrating this improper application of
the military resources of his State.

While Genet was in New York, a
schooner, brought as a prize into the
port of Boston by a French privateer,
was claimed by the British owner, who
instituted proceedings at law against
her, for the purpose of obtaining a de
cision on the validity of her capture.
She was rescued from the possession of
the marshal by an armed force, acting
under the authority of Mr. Duplaine,
the French consul, which was detached
from a frigate then lying in port. Un
til the frigate sailed, she was guarded
by a part of the crew ; and, notwith
standing the determination of the Amer
ican government that the consular courts
should not exercise a prize jurisdiction
within the territories of the United
States, Mr. Duplaine declared his pur
pose to take cognizance of the case.
To this act of open defiance, it was
impossible for Washington to submit.
The facts being well attested, the exe
quatur which had been granted to Mr.
Duplaine was revoked, and he was for
bidden further to exercise the consular
functions. It will excite surprise that
even this necessary measure could not
escape censure. The self-proclaimed
champions of liberty discovered in it a
violation of the constitution and a new
indignity to France.
Meantime events were transpiring in
Europe, which added not a little to the
excitement in the public mind against
Great Britain. For many years war
had existed between Portugal and Al
giers. In consequence of this, Algerine
cruisers had been confined to the Med-

Chap. VI.]

DEPREDATIONS OF ALGERINE PIRATES.

535

iterranean by a Portuguese fleet; and
the commerce of the United States, as
well as that of Portugal herself, had
been protected in the Atlantic from
piratical depredations. In September,
1793, an unexpected truce for a year
was concluded between Portugal and
Algiers. The Dey's cruisers, therefore,
immediately, and without previous no
tice, passed into the Atlantic ; and
American vessels, while on their way
to Portugal and other parts of Europe,
and without the smallest suspicion of
danger, became a prey to these lawless
freebooters, and many American sea
men were doomed to slavery. There
was no reasonable doubt that England
had a great deal to do with this mat
ter, and that, besides her determina
tion to carry on war against France,
she was not very unwilling that the
United States should also suffer the
evils incident to their commerce be
ing entirely unprotected by any naval
force. The causes of discontent which were
furnished by Spain, as Marshall states,
though less the theme of public decla
mation, continued to be considerable.
That which related to the Mississippi
was peculiarly embarrassing. The opin
ion had been industriously circulated,
that an opposition of interests existed
between the eastern and the western
people, and that the endeavors of the
executive to open this great river were
feeble and insincere. At a meeting of
the Democratic Society, in Lexington,
Kentucky, this sentiment was unani-

1T93.

mously avowed in terms of extreme
disrespect to the government; and a
committee was appointed to open a
correspondence with the inhabitants
of the entire west for the pur
pose of uniting them on this
subject, and of preparing a remon
strance to the president and Congress
of the United States, to be expressed
" in the bold, decent, and determined
language proper to be used by injured
freemen when they address the ser
vants of the people." They claimed
much merit for having thus long ab
stained from using the means they pos
sessed, for the assertion of " a natural
and unalienable right," and indicated
their opinion that this forbearance
could not be long continued. The
probability that the public expression
of these dangerous dispositions would
perpetuate the evil, could not moder
ate them. This restless temper gave
additional importance to the expedition
of Genet projected against Louisiana.
Private communications strengthened
the apprehensions entertained by the
president, that hostilities with Spain
were not far distant. The government
had received intelligence from their
ministers in Europe, that propositions
had been made by the cabinet of
Madrid to that of London, the object
of which was the United States. The
precise nature of these propositions
was not ascertained ; but it was un
derstood generally, that their tendency
was hostile ; and Washington, writing
to the secretary of war; in June, urged

536

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the importance of ascertaining the
Spanish force in the Floridas, and
such other matters as might be neces
sary in view of the possible outbreak
of a contest with Spain.
We must now return to Washington,
who, the reader will have perceived,
surrounded by the urgent nature of his
official duties, and the disturbed state
of public affairs, had been detained at
Philadelphia during a great portion of
the recess of Congress. He left that
place for Mount Vernon towards the
end of September, after the ravages of
the terrible yellow fever of 1793 had
already commenced in the city. He
remained at Mount Vernon till near
the end of October.* During;
1T93. . .
this time he was in constant
correspondence with the members of
the cabinet ; of whom, Jefferson appears
to have retired to Virginia, and the
other heads of departments to other
places, to avoid the contagion of the
fever. The principal topic discussed in
this correspondence, was the constitu
tional power of the president to change
the place in which Congress were to re
assemble in December, — Philadelphia
being considered unsafe. Germantown,
Wilmington, Trenton, Annapolis, Read
ing, and Lancaster were suggested each
in turn as suitable places ; but the
power of the president to change the
place was doubted on all hands. As
the fever subsided, however, the rneet-

** On the 8th of October, John Hancock died at Bos
ton. See Document [E] at the end of this chapter.

ing actually took place in Philadel
phia on the day appointed by adjourn
ment. Among those whom Washington con
sulted on the subject of the constitu
tional power to change the place for
the meeting of Congress, was Mr. Madi
son. Washington's letter to him, dated
Mount Vernon, October 14th, 1793,
evinces his anxiety to avoid a violation
of the constitution, while it presents a
lively picture of the state of disorder in
the departments, occasioned by the pes
tilence at the seat of government.
"The calamitous situation of Philadel
phia," he writes, " and the little pros
pect, from the present appearance, of its
eligibility to receive Congress by the
first Monday in December, involve a
serious difficulty. It has been intimated
by some, that the president ought, by
proclamation, to convene Congress a
few days before the above-mentioned
period, at some other place ; and by
others, that, although in extraordinary
cases he has the power to convene, he
has none to change the place. Mr. Jef
ferson, when here on his way home, was
of the latter opinion ; but the laws
were not fully examined, nor was the
case at that time so serious as it now is.
From the attorney-general (Randolph),
to whom I have since written on this
subject, requesting an official opinion,
I have received no answer, nor is it
likely I shall soon, as I believe he has
no communication with Philadelphia.
Time presses, and the malady, at the
usual place of meeting, is becoming

Chap. VI.]

YELLOW FEVER IN PHILADELPHIA.

537

more and more alarming. What, then,
do you think is the most advisable
course for me to pursue in the present
exigency, — summon Congress to meet
at a certain time and place in their
legislative capacity ? Simply state facts,
and say that I will meet the mem
bers at the time and place just men
tioned for ulterior arrangements ? Or
leave matters as they are, if there is
no power in the executive to alter the
place legally ? In the first and second
cases, especially the first, the delicacy
of my naming a place will readily
occur to you. My wish would be that
Congress could be assembled at Ger-
mantown, to show that I meant no
partiality, leaving it to themselves, if
there should be no prospect of getting
into Philadelphia soon, to decide what
should be done thereafter. But ac
counts say, that some people have died
in Germantown also of the malignant
fever. Every death, now, however, is
ascribed to that cause, be the disorder
what it may. Wilmington and Tren
ton are almost equidistant from Phil
adelphia, in opposite directions ; but
both are on the great thoroughfare,
and equally exposed to danger from
the multitude of travellers, and neither
may have a chamber sufficient for the
House of Representatives. Annapolis
and Lancaster are more secure, and
both have good accommodations. But
to name either of them, especially the
first, would be thought to favor the
Southern convenience; and, perhaps,
might be attributed to local views, es

pecially as New York is talked of for
this purpose. Reading, if there are
proper conveniences there, would favor
neither the Southern nor Northern in
terest most, but would be alike to
both. " I have written to Mr. Jefferson on
this subject. Notwithstanding which,
I would thank you for your opinion,
and that fully, as you see my embar
rassment. I even ask more. I would
thank you, not being acquainted with
forms, to sketch some instrument for
publication, adapted to the course you
may think it would be most expedient
for me to pursue in the present state of
things, if the members are called to
gether as before mentioned.
" The difficulty of keeping clerks, in
the public offices had in a manner put
a stop to business before I left Phila
delphia ; and the heads of departments
having matters of their own, which
called them away, has prevented my
return thither longer than I had in
tended. I have now desired the differ
ent secretaries to meet me there, or in
the vicinity, the 1st of next month, for
which I shall set out the 27th or the
28th of the present.
"The accounts from the city are
really affecting. Two gentlemen now
here from New York, colonels Piatt
and Sergeant, say that they were told
at the Swede's Ford of Schuylkill, by
a person who had it from Governor
Mifflin, that, by an official report from
the mayor of the city, upwards of three
thousand five hundred had died, and

538

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

that the disorder was raging more vio
lently than ever. If cool weather,
accompanied by rain, does not put a
stop to the malady, distressing indeed
must be the case of that city, now

almost depopulated by removals and
deaths."*
• The whole number that died during the prevalence
of the yellow fever in Philadelphia was over four thou
sand.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATOG CHAPTER YI.

[A.]
COLONEL JOHN LANGDON.
John Langdon was born at Portsmouth,
New Hampshire, in December, 1739. He re
ceived an early education at the grammar-school
of his native place, which was then taught by
the celebrated Major Hale. He was afterwards
placed apprentice to an eminent merchant,
where he conducted himself with such propriety
as to win the approbation and confidence of his
employer. At the expiration of his apprentice
ship, he went to sea as supercargo ; and soon
after obtaining a vessel of his own, made several
voyages to London and the West Indies. He
finally settled himself as a merchant, in which
profession he continued until the commence
ment of the Revolutionary War. During the
whole dispute with Great Britain, he took a
decided part with the colonists, and was cho
sen, first a representative to the general court,
and in the spring of 1115, a delegate to Con
gress. After the battle of Lexington, Mr. Langdon,
accompanied by John Sullivan and Thomas
Pickering, raised a company of men and pro
ceeded to Fort William and Mary, on Great
Island, disarmed the garrison, and conveyed the
arms and ammunition to a place of safety. A
number of barrels of gunpowder, which formed
part of the booty, was subsequently highly use
ful at Bunker Hill.
This affair evinced the enterprising spirit of
Langdon, and although small in itself, was of
very great importance in inspiring courage and
enthusiasm throughout his native State. So
fully was his gallantry appreciated, that when

the royal government would have arrested and
prosecuted him, the inhabitants declared their
resolution to remain by him at all hazards.
In 1115, we find Langdon a delegate to the
general Congress of the colonies, and the fol
lowing year continental agent for the navy.
Under his inspection were built a number of
ships of war : among others, the Raleigh, Ran
ger, America (seventy-four), Portsmouth, &g.
On the arrival of the important supplies of war
like stores from France, in four large ships, which
were accompanied by other vessels, he received
and disposed of the same by order of Congress.
He afterwards commanded an independent com
pany, with the rank of colonel, and especially
signalized himself in the frequent alarms of the
enemy's approach during the winter of 1115-6.
He was prevented from signing the Declaration
of Independence by his duties as navy agent ;
but when it was publicly proclaimed, he drew
up his company before the State-house, and
hailed its annunciation with the greatest joy.
While Burgoyne was rapidly approaching
New York, in 1777, Colonel Langdon was
speaker of the Assembly of New Hampshire ;
and when means were wanting to support a
regiment, to oppose the British general, he gave
all his hard money, pledged his plate, and ap
plied to the same purpose seventy hogsheads of
rum. His speech on this occasion is worthy of
lasting remembrance. " I have three thousand
dollars in hard money ; I will pledge my plate
for three thousand more : I have seventy hogs
heads of Tobago rum, which shall be sold foi
the most it will bring : — these are at the service
of the State. If we succeed in defending our
firesides and homes, I may be remunerated ; if

540

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

we do not, the property will be of no value to
me. Our old friend Stark, who so nobly main
tained the honor of our State at Bunker Hill,
may be safely intrusted with the conduct of the
enterprise, and we will check the progress of
Burgoyne." This patriotic speech infused zeal into the As
sembly. A brigade was raised with the means
thus furnished, which under Brigadier-general
Stark achieved the memorable victory of Ben
nington. Colonel Langdon was a volunteer in
the army that captured Burgoyne, as also in the
expedition against Rhode Island, in 1778. He
continued in the army until the close of the war,
performing various duties, which gained him the
respect and gratitude of his country.
In 1785, Colonel Langdon was governor of
New Hampshire; and in 1787, delegate to the
convention that framed the federal constitution.
Under the constitution, he was one of the first
United States senators from New Hampshire,
when the votes for the first president were to
be counted, and was appointed president pro
tempore of that august body. His letter to
Washington, informing him of the result, is as
follows : New Yokk, Qth April, 1789.
Sie : — I have the honor to transmit to your
Excellency, the information of your unanimous
election to the office of President of the United
States of America. Suffer me, sir, to indulge
the hope, that so auspicious a mark of public
confidence will meet your approbation, and be
considered as a pledge of the affection and sup
port you are to expect from a free and enlight
ened people.
I am, sir, with sentiments of respect, &c,
John Langdon.
Mr. Langdon was still president of the Senate
at the inauguration of Washington and Adams,
and remained a member for twelve years. In
1801, President Jefferson, with many of his
friends, solicited him to accept the office of sec
retary of the navy, but this he declined. In
1805, he was elected governor of his State; and
again in 1810. In the year following he retired
from public service, repeatedly declining the ap
pointment for the navy, as also the nomination

for vice-president in 1812. He died, after a
short illness, September 18th, 1819.
Governor Langdon was noted for his integ
rity, patriotism, and hospitality. During his
whole life, he entertained numerous visitors at
his own expense, and frequently extended his
favors to strangers, or foreigners of distinction.
He was a zealous professor of religion ; to the
duties of which he gave a considerable share of
his attention. In the party politics of the Union
he acted with Mr. Jefferson and his associates,
but was honored and trusted by both sides.
The influence of his name was great throughout
the Union.

[B.]
OLIVER ELLSWORTH.
Oliver Ellsworth, an American judge and
statesman, was born at Windsor, in Connecticut,
April 29th, 1745. His father was a farmer ; and
his own youth was passed alternately in agricul
tural labors and liberal studies. At the age of
seventeen he entered Yale College, which he
subsequently left for the college of Nassau Hall,
at Princeton. After completing "his academic
course at Princeton, in 1766, he studied law,
and was admitted to the bar in 1771, in the
county of Hartford, Connecticut, where he com
menced practice, and acquired in a few years
a high professional reputation, that occasioned
his appointment as state's attorney. From the
commencement of the revolutionary struggle,
Mr. Ellsworth sided with the colonies : he went
into actual service against the enemy with the
militia of Connecticut ; and, as a member of the
general assembly of that State, took a large
share in all the political discussions and measures.
In 1777, he was chosen a delegate to the Con
gress of the United States, in which body he
continued for three years. In 1780, he became
a member of the council of Connecticut, and in
1784 was appointed a judge of the superior
court of the State, an office which he filled for
several years with great reputation. In 1787,
he was chosen by the legislature one of the
delegates of Connecticut to the convention for
framing a federal constitution, to be held in

Chap. VI.]

DOCUMENTS.

541

Philadelphia. In this illustrious assembly, he
obtained much influence and distinction. It is
believed that the present organization and mode
of appointment of the Senate were suggested by
him. As he was called away by other duties,
his name is not among those of the signers of
the constitution which was adopted, but he ap
proved the work, and warmly supported it in
the State convention. Two of his very able
speeches in its defence are preserved in the
third volume of Carey's American Museum.
When the constitution was ratified, Judge Ells
worth was elected a senator in the first Con
gress, which met at New York, in 1789 ; and
he retained his seat till 1796, during almost the
whole of President Washington's administration.
The bill for organizing the judiciary department
was drawn up by him ; and the part which he
took in most of the great questions of politics or
public economy, raised him to a lofty eminence
in the eyes of the country. In 1796, when Mr.
Jay resigned the office of chief-justice of the
supreme court of the United States, President
Washington appointed Mr. Ellsworth his suc
cessor. To this trust he proved fully equal,
though he had been long estranged from the
practice of his profession. All his habits and
faculties were specially adapted to the discharge
of judicial functions. At the close of the year
1799, he was selected to be one of the three
envoys to France, Governor Davie, of North
Carolina, and the Honorable William Vans Mur
ray, being his colleagues, in order to adjust those
differences which had assumed the character of
war. For this errand he was not so well qual
ified as for the career which he had previously
run ; but the convention, which was concluded
by the envoys with the French government,
obtained the ' assent of the president and the
Senate. His health was so much impaired by
a long and tempestuous sea-voyage, that he was
obliged to pass over to England from France,
in order, chiefly, to try the efficacy of the British
mineral waters. The same cause induced him
to transmit from England to President Wash
ington his resignation of the office of chief-
justice. As soon as he had acquired some fresh
strength, he returned to his native country, and
retired to his family residence at Windsor, in
Vol. IL— 69

Connecticut. In 1802, he entered again into
the council of the State, and, in 1807, was elect
ed the chief-justice of the State, but declined
this station. The nephritic complaints to which
he had been long subject attained a fatal vio
lence this year, and caused his death, in the
sixty-third year of his age. Oliver Ellsworth
was one of the most distinguished of the revolu
tionary patriots of America, — of her statesmen,
and her lawyers. He filled a large space in the
eyes of his countrymen. His personal character
and domestic life were exemplary. His friend,
Dr. Dwight, has commemorated his merits in
his Travels in New England.

[O]
ROGER SHERMAN.
Roger Sherman, a signer of the Declaration
of Independence, was born at Newton, Massa
chusetts, April 19th, 1721. His father was a
respectable farmer, but of circumstances too
moderate to allow him to give his son any other
education than that furnished by the village
school. Roger was early apprenticed to a shoe
maker; and, on the death of his father, when
he was only nineteen years of age, he supported
his mother and a numerous family by his labor,
his elder brother having some time before re
moved to New Milford, Connecticut. Thither
the whole family also removed in 1 743, — Roger
performing the journey on foot, with his tools
on his back. Soon afterwards, he relinquished
the shoemaking trade, and entered into partner
ship with his brother, as a country merohant.
From his earliest youth he had always manifest
ed an unconquerable avidity for knowledge, and
availing himself of every opportunity, became
remarkable for the variety and extent of his
attainments at an early age. His skill in math
ematics occasioned him to be appointed, in 1745,
county surveyor. In astronomy, he was like
wise a proficient. In 1748, and for several suc
ceeding years, he supplied the astronomical cal
culations for an almanac published in the city ot
New York. Having devoted for some time his
leisure moments to the study of the law, he was
admitted, in 1754, to the bar, where he rapidly

542

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

rose to distinction. In the following year he
was appointed a justice of the peace for New
Milford, which town he also represented the
same year in the colonial assembly. In 1759,
he was appointed judge of the court of common
pleas for the county of Litchfield ; an office
which he filled with great reputation for the two
ensuing years. He then fixed his residence in
New Haven, of which town he was made a jus
tice of the peace, and often represented it in the
colonial assembly. In 1765, he was made judge
of the court of common pleas, and about the
same time he was appointed treasurer of Yale
College. In 1766, he was elected a member of
the upper House, in the general assembly of Con
necticut, which station he retained for nineteen
years, when, the office of judge being considered
incompatible with it, he retired. His judgeship
he held until his election, in 1789, to Congress,
under the federal constitution. His early and
strenuous support of American rights caused
him to be chosen a delegate to the first general
Congress of 1774. He was present at the open
ing of the session, and continued to occupy a
seat in that body until his death, in 1793, a space
of nineteen years. His whole congressional ca
reer was marked by indefatigable zeal, industry,
and fortitude. His sterling sense, integrity, and
firmness, gave him great influence in the assem
bly. The estimation in which he was held by
his fellow-members may be inferred by the se
lection of him as the associate of Adams, Frank
lin, Jefferson, and Livingston, in the committee
appointed to prepare the Declaration of Inde
pendence. While holding a seat in Congress,
he served the State he represented in various
other ways. During the war he was a member
of the governor's council of safety ; and from
1784 to his death, was mayor of the city of
New Haven. In 1783, he was commissioner,
together with Richard Law, both of whom were
at the time judges of the supreme court, to re
vise the statutes of the State, a work of great
labor and difficulty, and which was executed
with corresponding ability. In 1787, he was a
member of the convention which formed the
present constitution of the United States ; and
its adoption in Connecticut was owing in a great
measure to his influence. He appeared before

the State convention, and made a plain and per
spicuous explanation of the probable operation
of the principles of the constitution. He was
continued in his place in the House of Represen
tatives under the new government, and at the
expiration of two years, was chosen to the Sen
ate, but was obliged to retire from this station
in consequence of ill health. He died July 23,
1793, in the seventy-third year of his age. The
predominant trait of Mr. Sherman's character
was his practical wisdom, or in other words, his
strong common sense. " That," said Mr. Jeffer
son, on one occasion, when pointing out the va
rious members of Congress to a friend, " that is
Mr. Sherman, of Connecticut — a man who never
said a foolish thing in his life!'''' He possessed
singular power in penetrating into the character
and motives of men; while the rectitude and
integrity of his own nature enabled him to ac
quire an extraordinary influence. Though a
man naturally of strong passions, he obtained a
complete control over them by means of his
deep religious spirit, and became habitually
calm, sedate, and self-possessed. As a speaker,
he was slow and hesitating, and devoid of most
of the graces of oratory ; but the weight of his
matter, and the conviction of his sincerity, caused
him to be listened to with great respect and at
tention. His learning was extensive and pro
found.

[D.]
RUFUS KING.

Rufus King, a distinguished American orator,
statesman, and diplomatist, was born in 1755, at
Scarborough, in the State of Maine, where his
father was an opulent merchant. He was en
tered at Harvard College, Cambridge, in 1773 ;
but, in 1775, his collegiate pursuits were inter
rupted by the commencement of the Revolu
tionary War, the buildings appertaining to the
institution having become the barracks of the
American troops. The students were, in con
sequence, dispersed until the autumn of the same
year, when they reassembled at Concord, where
they remained until the evacuation of Boston
by the British forces in 1776. In 1777, he re-

Chap. VI.]

DOCUMENTS.

543

ceived his degree, and immediately afterwards
entered, as a student of law, into the office of
the celebrated Theophilus Parsons, at Newbury-
port. Before he was admitted to the bar, in
1778, he volunteered his services in the enter
prise conducted by General Sullivan and Count
d'Estaing, against the British in Rhode Island ;
and acted in the capacity of aid-de-camp to the
former. In 1780, he began the practice of his
profession, and soon after was elected represen
tative of the town of Newburyport in the legis
lature, or general court, as it is called, of Massa
chusetts, where his success paved the way to a
seat in the old Congress, in 1784. His most
celebrated effort in the legislature was made in
that year, on the occasion of the recommendation
by Congress to the several States to grant to the
general government a five per cent, impost, a
compliance with which he advocated with great
power and zeal. He was re-elected a member
of Congress in 1785 and 1786. In the latter
year he was sent by Congress, with Mr. Monroe,
to the legislature of Pennsylvania, to remon
strate against one of its proceedings. A day
was appointed for them to address the legis
lature, on which Mr. King rose first to speak ;
but, before he could open his lips, he lost the
command of his faculties ; and, in his confusion,
barely retained presence of mind enough to re
quest Mr. Monroe to take his place. Mean
while, he recovered his self-possession, and on
rising again, after complimenting his audience
by attributing his misfortune to the effect pro
duced upon him by so august an assemblage,
proceeded to deliver an elegant and masterly
speech. In 1787, when the general convention
met at Philadelphia for the purpose of forming
a constitution for the country, Mr. King was
sent to it by the legislature of Massachusetts;
and when the convention of that State was
called, in order to discuss the system of govern
ment proposed, was likewise chosen a member
of it by the inhabitants of Newburyport. In
both assemblies he was in favor of the present
constitution. In 1788, he removed to New
York city. In 1789, he was elected a member
of the New York legislature, and, during its
extra session, in the summer of that year, Gen
eral Schuyler and himself were chosen the first

senators from the State, under the constitution
of the United States. In 1794, the British treaty
was made public, and a public meeting of the
citizens of New York having been called re
specting it, Mr. King and General Hamilton at
tended to explain and defend it ; but the peo
ple were in such a ferment, that they were not
allowed to speak. They therefore retired, and
immediately commenced the publication of a
series of essays upon the subject, under the sig
nature of Camillus, the first ten of which, rela
ting to the permanent articles of the treaty, were
written by General Hamilton, and the remain
der, relative to the commercial and maritime
articles, by Mr. King. The most celebrated
speech made by Mr. King in the Senate of the
United States was in this year, concerning a
petition which had been presented by some of
the citizens of Pennsylvania against the right of
Albert Gallatin to take a seat in the Senate, to
which he had been chosen by that State, on the
ground of want of legal qualification, in conse
quence of not having been a citizen of the United
States for the requisite number of years. Mr.
King spoke in support of the petition, and in
answer to a speech of Aaron Burr, in favor of
Mr. Gallatin. Mr. Gallatin was excluded. In
the spring of 1796, Mr. King was appointed by
President Washington minister plenipotentiary
to the court of St. James, having previously de
clined the offer of the department of state. The
functions of that post he continued to discharge
until 1803, when he returned home. In 1813,
he was a third time sent to the Senate by the
legislature of New York, at a period when the
nation was involved in hostilities with Great
Britain. His speech on the burning of Wash
ington by the enemy was one of his most elo
quent displays, and teemed with sentiments
which had echoes from all parties. In 1816,
whilst engaged with his senatorial d ities at
Washington, he was proposed as a candidate
for the chief magistracy of the State of New
York, by a convention of delegates from several
of its counties. The nomination was made with
out his knowledge, and it was with the greatest
reluctance he acceded to it, at the earnest so
licitation of his friends. He was not, however,
elected. In 1820, he was re-elected to the Sen-

544

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

ate of the United States, where he continued
until the expiration of the term, in March, 1825.
Several of the laws which he proposed and car
ried in that interval, were of great consequence.
In the famous Missouri question, he took the
lead. On his withdrawal from the Senate, he
accepted from President Adams the appoint
ment of minister plenipotentiary at the court of
London. During the voyage to England, his
health was sensibly impaired. He remained
abroad a twelvemonth, but his illness impeded
the performance of his official duties, and proved
fatal soon after his return home. He died like
a Christian philosopher, April 29th, 1827, in the
seventy-third year of his age. The name of Mr.
King is conspicuous in the annals of the Amer
ican Union, in connection not merely with the
history of parties, but with that of the formation
and establishment of the federal republican sys
tem. Politicians of every denomination bore
testimony to the value of his public services, and
the eminence of his talents and virtues.

[E.]
JOHN HANCOCK.

John Hancock, the distinguished patriot and
friend of his country, was born in the year
1737, in Massachusetts. Mr. Hancock gradu
ated at Harvard College, in 1754. On the death
of his uncle, Thomas Hancock, Esq., he received
a very considerable fortune, and soon became an
eminent merchant. He was for several years
selectman of the town; and in 1766, he was
chosen a member of the House of Representa
tives for Boston : Otis, Cushing, and Samuel
Adams were the other three — men of name in
the Revolution of their country. Being fond of
public notice, he was flattered by the approba
tion of the people, with their marks of con
fidence, and the distinction he had in the gen
eral court. The political sagacity of Adams,
and the pubhc spirit and patriotic zeal of Han
cock, gave a lustre to Boston. Of these two
popular leaders, the manners and appearance
were in direct opposition, notwithstanding the
conformity of their political principles, and their
equal devotion to the liberties and independence

of their country ; and this dissimilarity tended,
no doubt, to aggravate the passions and animos
ities of their adherents. Mr. Adams was poor,
and in his dress and manners, simple and un
adorned. Hancock, on the other hand, was
numbered with the richest individuals of his
country. His equipage was splendid and mag
nificent. His apparel was sumptuously embroi
dered with gold and silver lace, and all the other
decorations fashionable among men of fortune
of that day : he rode, especially upon public oc
casions, with six beautiful bays, and with ser
vants in livery. He was graceful and prepos
sessing in manners, and very passionately addict
ed to what are called the elegant pleasures of
life, — to dancing, music, concerts, routs, assem
blies, card parties, rich wines, social dinners, and
festivities ; all which the stern republican virtues
of Mr. Adams regarded with indifference, if not
with contempt.
It was in commemoration of the Boston mas
sacre that Mr. Hancock delivered an oration,
in 1774, from which we extract the following:
" I have always, from my earliest youth, re
joiced in the felicity of my fellow-men, and have
ever considered it as the indispensable duty of
every member of society to promote, as far as
in him lies, the prosperity of every individual,
but more especially of the community to which
he belongs ; and also, as a faithful subject of the
State, to use his utmost endeavors to detect, and
having detected, strenuously to oppose every
traitorous plot which its enemies may devise for
its destruction. Security to the persons and
properties of the governed, is so obviously the
design and end of civil government, that to at
tempt a logical proof of it, would be like burning
tapers at noon-day to assist the sun in enlight
ening the world ; and it cannot be virtuous or
honorable to attempt to support a government
of which this is not the great and principal basis ,
and it is to the last degree vicious and infamous
to attempt to support a government which man
ifestly tends to render the persons and properties
of the governed insecure. Some boast of being
friends to government : I am a friend to right
eous government, to a government founded up
on the principles of reason and justice ; but I
glory in publicly avowing my eternal enmity to

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Joluioon, .fry & C° ruUliulusis.TWYork.

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Chap. VI.]

DOCUMENTS.

545

tyranny. Is the present system, which the
British administration have adopted for the gov
ernment of the colonies, a righteous govern
ment ? or is it tyranny ? Here suffer me to ask
(and would to heaven there could be an answer),
what tenderness, what regard, respect, or con
sideration, has Great Britain shown, in their late
transactions, for the security of the persons or
properties of the inhabitants of the colonies ? or
rather, what have they omitted doing to destroy
that security? They have declared that they
have ever had, and of right ought ever to have,
full power to make laws of sufficient validity to
bind the colonies in all cases whatever: they
have exercised this pretended right by imposing
a tax upon us without our consent ; and lest we
should show some reluctance at parting with
our property, her fleets and armies are sent to
enforce their mad pretensions. The town of
Boston, ever faithful to the British crown, has
been invested by a British fleet : the troops of
George in. have crossed the wide Atlantic, not
to engage an enemy, but to assist a band of
traitors in trampling on the rights and liberties
of his most loyal subjects in America; those
rights and liberties which, as a father, he ought
ever to regard, and as a king, he is bound in
honor to defend from violations, even at the
risk of his own life.
" But I forbear, and come reluctantly to the
transactions of that dismal night, when in such
quick succession we felt the extremes of grief,
astonishment, and rage ; when heaven, in anger,
for a dreadful moment, suffered hell to take the
reins ; when Satan, with his chosen band, opened
the sluices of New England's blood, and sacri
legiously polluted our land with the dead bodies
of her guiltless sons. Let this sad tale of death
never be told without a tear ; let not the heaving
bosom cease to burn with manly indignation at
the barbarous story, through the long tracts of
future time ; let every parent tell the shameful
story to his listening children, till tears of pity
glisten in their eyes, and boiling passions shake
their tender frames ; and while the anniversary
of that ill-fated night is kept a jubilee in the
grim court of pandsemonium, let all America
join in one common prayer to heaven, that the
inhuman, unprovoked murders of the 5th of

March, 1770, planned by Hillsborough and a
knot of treacherous knaves in Boston, and exe
cuted by the cruel hand of Preston and his san
guinary coadjutors, may ever stand on history
without a parallel. But what, my countrymen,
withheld the ready arm of vengeance from exe
cuting instant justice on the vile assassins ?
Perhaps you feared promiscuous carnage might
ensue, and that the innocent might share the
fate of those who had performed the infernal
deed. But were not all guilty ? Were you not
too tender of the lives of those who came to fix
a yoke on your necks ? But I must not too se
verely blame a fault which great souls only can
commit. May the magnificence of spirit which
scorns the low pursuits of malice — may that gen
erous compassion which often preserves from
ruin even a guilty villain, forever actuate the
noble bosoms of Americans ! But let not the
miscreant host vainly imagine that we feared
their arms. No ; them we despised : we dread
nothing but slavery. Death is the creature of a
poltroon's brains : 'tis immortality to sacrifice
ourselves for the salvation of our country ! We
fear not death. That gloomy night, the pale-
faced moon, and the affrighted stars that hur
ried through the sky, can witness that we fear
not death. Our hearts, which, at the rec
ollection, glow with rage that four revolving
years have scarcely taught us to restrain, can
witness that we fear not death ; and happy it is
for those who dared to insult us, that their naked
bones are not now piled up an everlasting mon
ument of Massachusetts' bravery. But they re
tired — they fled, and in that flight they found
their only safety. We then expected that the
hand of public justice would soon inflict that
punishment upon the murderers, which, by the
laws of God and man, they had incurred.
" Patriotism is ever united with humanity and
compassion. This noble affection, which impels
us to sacrifice every thing dear, even life itself,
to our country, involves in it a common sympa
thy and tenderness for every citizen, and must
ever have a particular feeling for one who suffers
in a pubhc cause. Thoroughly persuaded of
this, I need not add a word to engage your
compassion and bounty towards a fellow-citizen,
who, with long-protracted anguish, falls a vie-

546

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

tim to the relentless rage of our common ene
mies. " Ye dark, designing knaves — ye murderers,
parricides ! how dare you tread upon the earth,
which has drunk in the blood of slaughtered in
nocents, shed by your wicked hands? How
dare you breathe that air which wafted to the
ear of Heaven the groans of those who fell a
sacrifice to your accursed ambition ? But if the
laboring earth doth not expand her jaws — if the
air you breathe is not commissioned to be the
minister of death — yet, hear it, and tremble!
the eye of Heaven penetrates the darkest cham
bers of the soul, traces the leading clue through
all the labyrinths which your industrious folly
has devised ; and you, however you may have
screened yourselves from human eyes, must be
arraigned, must lift your hands, red with the
blood of those whose death you have procured,
at the tremendous bar of God.
" But I gladly quit the gloomy theme of death,
and leave you to improve the thought of that
important day, when our naked souls must stand
before that Being from whom nothing can be
hid. I would not dwell too long upon the hor
rid effects which have already followed from
quartering regular troops in this town : let our
misfortunes teach posterity to guard against
such evils for the future.
"Let us be ready to take the field whenever
danger calls ; let us be united, and strengthen
the hands of each other by promoting a general
union among us. Much has been done by the
committees of correspondence, for the houses of
assembly, in this and our sister colonies, for
uniting the inhabitants of the whole continent.
May success ever attend their generous en
deavors. But permit me here to suggest a
general congress of deputies, from the several
houses of assembly on the continent, as the
most effectual method of establishing such a
union as the present posture of our affairs re
quires. At such a congress, a firm foundation
may be laid for the security of our rights and
liberties ; a system may be formed for our com
mon safety, by a strict adherence to which, we
shall be able to frustrate any attempts to over
throw our constitution, restore peace and har
mony to America, and secure honor and wealth

to Great Britain, even against the inclinations
of her ministers, whose duty it is to study her
welfare ; and we shall also free ourselves from
those unmannerly pillagers who impudently tell
us, that they are licensed by an act of the British
parliament to thrust their dirty hands into the
pockets of every American. But, I trust, the
happy time will come, when, with the besom of
destruction, those noxious vermin will be swept
forever from the streets of Boston.
" Surely you never will tamely suffer this
country to be a den of thieves. Remember,
my friends, from whom you sprang. Let not a
meanness of spirit, unknown to those whom you
boast of as your fathers, excite a thought to the
dishonor of your mothers. I conjure you by
all that is dear, by all that is honorable, by
all that is sacred, not only that ye pray, but
that you act ; that, if necessary, ye fight, and
even die, for the prosperity of our Jerusalem.
Break in sunder, with noble disdain, the bonds
with which the Philistines have bound you.
Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed, by the soft
arts of luxury and effeminacy, into the pit
digged for your destruction. Despise the glare
of wealth. That people who pay greater re
spect to a wealthy villain, than to an honest
upright man in poverty, almost deserve to be
enslaved ; they plainly show that wealth, how
ever it may be acquired, is, in their esteem, to
be preferred to virtue.
" But, I thank God that America abounds in
men who are superior to all temptation, whom
nothing can divert from a steady pursuit of the
interest of their country ; who are at once its
ornament and safeguard. And sure I am, I should
not incur your displeasure if I paid a respect
so justly due to their much-honored characters
in this place ; but, when I name an Adams, such
a numerous host of fellow-patriots rush upon
my mind, that I fear it would take up too much
of your time, should I attempt to call over the
illustrious roll. But your grateful hearts will
point you to the men ; and their revered names,
in all succeeding times, shall grace the annals of
America. From them, let us, my friends, take
example ; from them, let us catch the divine
enthusiasm, and feel, each for himself, the god
like pleasure of diffusing happiness on all around

Chap. VI.]

DOCUMENTS.

547

us; of delivering the oppressed from the iron
grasp of tyranny ; of changing the hoarse com
plaints and bitter moans of wretched slaves,
into those cheerful songs which freedom and
content must inspire. There is a heart-felt
satisfaction in reflecting on our exertions for
the public weal, which all the sufferings an
enraged tyrant can inflict will never take away ;
which the ingratitude and reproaches of those
whom we have saved . from ruin cannot rob us
of. The virtuous asserter of the rights of man
kind merits a reward, which even a want of
success in his endeavors to save his country, the
heaviest misfortune which can befall a genuine
patriot, cannot entirely prevent him from re
ceiving. " I have the most animating confidence that
the present noble struggle for liberty will ter
minate gloriously for America. And let us play
the man for our God, and for the cities of our
God : while we are using the means in our
power, let us humbly commit our righteous
cause to the great Lord of the universe, who
loveth righteousness and hateth iniquity. And
having secured the approbation of our hearts,
by a faithful and unwearied discharge of our
duty to our country, let us joyfully leave our
concerns in the hands of Him who raiseth up
and putteth down the empires and kingdoms of
the world as he pleases ; and with cheerful sub
mission to his sovereign will, devoutly say —
" Although the fig-tree shall not blossom,
neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the labor of
the olive shall fail, and the field shall yield no
meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold,
and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet we
will rejoice in the Lord, we will joy in the God
of our salvation."
The battle of Lexington now announced the
commencement of the Revolutionary War. To
gain possession of the persons of Hancock and
Adams, who lodged together in that village,
was one of the motives, it is said, of the expedi
tion which led to that memorable conflict. The
design, though covered with great secrecy, was
anticipated, and the victims escaped, upon the
entrance of ¦ their habitation by the British
troops. Thus, by the felicitous intervention of
a moment, were rescued from a virulent ene

my, and perhaps from the executioner, those
who were to contribute, by their future virtues,
to the revolution of empires, and to be handed
down to posterity as the benefactors of mankind.
The defeat of the English in this battle was
followed by the governor's proclamation, de
claring the province in a state of rebellion ;
offering, at the same time, pardon to all whose
penitence should recommend them to this act
of grace, with the exception of those notorious
offenders, Samuel Adams and John Hancock.
These, by the enormity of their guilt, which
was declared too flagitious for impunity, were
reserved to propitiate the ferocity of the royal
vengeance. But this signal and glorious de
nunciation, less the effect of good policy than
of passion, advanced these popular chiefs upon
the lists of fame : they were everywhere hailed
with increased acclamations and applauses, and
not only by their illustrious merits, but by the
dangers to which they were exposed, were en
deared to the affections of their countrymen.
Hancock, in October, 1774, was unanimously
elected president of the provincial congress of
Massachusetts. In 1775 he attained the merid
ian of his political distinction, and the highest
honor that the confidence or the esteem of his
compatriots could bestow upon him — being
made president of the continental congress.
By his long experience in business, as mod
erator of the town meetings, president and
speaker of the provincial assemblies and con
ventions, during times of great turbulence and
commotion, in his native State, he was emi
nently qualified, as well as by his natural dig
nity of manners, to preside in this great council
of the nation.
That there were, in this assembly, person
ages of a superior age to that of Mr. Hancock,
and men, at the same time, of pre-eminent vir
tues and talents, will not be denied, who re
quired at least some indications of deference
from a generous mind, in reference to their
merits. It was, besides, an occasion upon which
calmness and composure had been little com
mendable ; and upon which indifference, or a
haughty and supercilious confidence, had been
criminal in him who was crowned with the
principal honors. For rarely in the vicissitudes

548

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

of nations has it happened that interests more
sacred have been confided to the infirmity of
human wisdom or integrity; and that a specta
cle more imposing has been exhibited to human
observation. In 1776, July 4th, his name appears as presi
dent of the Congress which declared the colo
nies independent of the crown of Great Britain.
The name of the president alone was published
with the declaration, though every member
signed it. It was a mark of respect due to
Massachusetts to have one of their members in
the chair, which had been filled by a member
from South Carolina and Virginia. Mr. Han
cock had those talents which were calculated to
make him appear to more advantage as chair
man, than in the debates of a public body.
He excelled as moderator of the Boston town-
meetings, and as president of the provincial con
gress and State convention ; and, as head of
the great council of our nation, he was much
respected. He possessed a fine address, great
impartiality, sufficient spirit to command atten
tion and preserve order. His voice and man
ner were much in his favor, and his experience
in public business gave him ease and dignity.
In 1779, Mr. Hancock resigned his place in
Congress. He was chosen a member of the
convention that formed the constitution of Mas
sachusetts. From 1780 to 1785, Mr. Hancock was an
nually chosen governor of the commonwealth of
Massachusetts. He declined being a candidate
for the office the ensuing year, and was suc
ceeded by the Honorable James Bowdoin, Esq.
During the administration of Mr. Bowdoin
there was an insurrection in the State, which
was happily quelled. Every thing was done in
the most judicious manner by the governor and
the legislature, yet a part of the community
appeared to be discontented with the admin
istration, and in the year 1787 Mr. Hancock
was again placed in .the chair.
His conduct in the State convention for con
sidering the federal constitution, gained him
great honor. The opposition to the proposed
form of government was great. It was said
that the majority of the convention would be
against its adoption, and that the governor was

with the opposers. He was chosen president of
the convention, but did not attend the debates
till the latter week of the session. Certain
amendments were proposed, to remove the ob
jections of those who thought some of the arti
cles deprived the people of their rights. He
introduced these amendments with great pro
priety, and voted for the adoption of the consti
tution. His name and influence doubtless turned
many in favor of the federal government.
The latter years of his administration were
easy to him, on account of the public tran
quillity. The federal government became the
source of so much prosperity, that the people
were easy and happy. The two patriots, Han
cock and Adams, were reconciled. When Lieu
tenant-governor Cushing died, General Lincoln
was chosen as his successor. This gave great
offence to Mr. Adams, and it was very disa
greeable to the governor. They joined their
strength to support the same measures, as well
as renewed their friendship. The next year
Lincoln was left out of office, and Mr. Adams
chosen lieutenant-governor. This gentleman
succeeded Mr. Hancock, as governor of the
commonwealth, after his death.
He had married, about twenty years before
his death, Miss Quincy, daughter of an eminent
magistrate of Boston. No children were, how
ever, left to inherit his fortune, or perpetuate
his name ; his only son having died in his
youth. He died suddenly, on the 8th of October,
1793, in the 55th year of his age. During
several days his body lay in state at his man
sion, where great multitudes thronged to pay
the last offices of their grief and affection. His
obsequies were attended with great pomp and
solemnity, and amidst the tears of his coun
trymen he was committed to the dust. Dr.
Thacher preached his funeral sermon the next
Sabbath. He was very friendly to the clergy
of all denominations, and did a great deal to
promote the cause of learning as well as reh
gion. The library of Harvard College gives an
exhibition of his munificence ; and the name of
Hancock is upon the records of the university
as one of her greatest benefactors.
In stature he was above the middle size, of

Chap. VI.]

DOCUMENTS.

549

excellent proportion of limbs, of extreme benig
nity of countenance ; possessing a flexible and
harmonious voice, a manly and dignified aspect.
By the improvement of these natural qualities
from observation and extensive intercourse with
the world, he had acquired a pleasing elocution,
with the most graceful and conciliating man
ners. Of his talents it is a sufficient evidence, that,
in the various stations to which his fortune had
elevated him in the republic, he acquitted him
self with an honorable distinction and capacity.
His communications to the general assembly,
and his correspondence as president of Con
gress, are titles of no ordinary commendation.
Of extensive erudition he has given no positive
testimony. His knowledge was practical and
familiar. He neither penetrated the intricacies
of profound research, nor did he mount inacces
sible elevations.
Of the other statesmen and warriors of the
Revolution, and especially of the members of
the continental congress, it may be observed,
that in wisdom and intelligence, as well as in
tegrity and magnanimity, they suffer no degra
dation in being compared with the most illus
trious patriots of ancient or modern times.
Mr. Hancock was promoted to every office
which a man fond of public life could expect or
desire. He possessed many valuable qualifica
tions for public life, a knowledge of business,
and facility in dispatching it, and a ready in
sight into the characters of men. As an orator,
he was not remarkable ; he seldom made an
elaborate speech : one of the most eloquent
is the oration delivered on the 5th of March,
1774. But as the president, moderator, or
speaker of an assembly, whether it was a town-
meeting or a house of representatives, he was
not surpassed by any person of his time. His
voice was powerful, his acquaintance with par
liamentary forms accurate, and his apprehension
of questions quick. He was attentive, impar
tial, and dignified; and in these situations in
spired respect and confidence wherever he pre
sided. During the siege of Boston, Washington con
sulted Congress upon the propriety of bombard
ing the town. Mr. Hancock was then president
Vol. II.— 70

of Congress. After Washington's letter was
read, a solemn silence ensued. This was bro
ken by a member making a motion that the
House should resolve itself into a committee of
the whole, in order that Mr. Hancock might
give his opinion upon the subject, as he was so
deeply interested from having all his estate in
Boston. After he left the chair, he addressed
the chairman of the committee of the whole in
the following words : " It is true, sir, nearly all
the property I have in the world is in houses
and other real estate in the town of Boston ;
but if the expulsion of the British army from
it, and the liberties of our country require their
being burnt to ashes, issue the orders for that
purpose immediately.'1''

[F.]
QUESTIONS
Addressed bt Washington to each Member op his
Cabinet, previous to the Arrival of Mr.
Genet, as Minister from France.
The following are copies of these questions,
surreptitiously obtained and published in 1796,
and of the letter which inclosed them. At the
present day it is difficult to imagine how they
could have been made the occasion of an un
sparing and bitter attack on Washington. They
are precisely the questions which it was his duty
to submit to the cabinet at the time :
Philadelphia, 18(A April, 1793.
Sie : — The posture of affairs in Europe, par
ticularly between France and Great Britain,
place the United States in a delicate situation,
and require much consideration of the measures
which will be proper for them to observe in the
war between those powers. With a view to
forming a general plan of conduct for the ex
ecutive, I have stated and inclosed sundry ques
tions to be considered preparatory to a meeting
at my house to-morrow, where I shall expect to
see you at nine o'clock, and to receive the re
sult of your reflections thereon.
Ques. I. Shall a proclamation issue for the
purpose of preventing interferences of the citi
zens of the United States in the war between

550

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

France and Great Britain, &c. ? shall it contain
a declaration of neutrality or not ? what shall it
contain ?
Ques. II. Shall a minister from the republic
of France be received ?
Ques. III. If received, shall it be absolutely,
or with qualifications ; and if with qualifications,
of what kind ?
Ques. IV. Are the United States obliged by
good faith to consider the treaties heretofore
made with France as applying to the present
situation of the parties? may they either re
nounce them, or hold them suspended until the
government of France shall be established ?
Ques. V. If they have the right, is it expe
dient to do either ? and which ?
Ques. VI. If they have an option, would it be
a breach of neutrality to consider the treaties
still in operation ?
Ques. VII. If the treaties are to be consid
ered as now in operation, is the guarantee in
the treaty of alliance applicable to a defensive
war only, or to war either offensive or defensive?
Ques. VIH. Does the war in which France

is engaged appear to be offensive or defensive
on her part ? or of a mixed and equivocal char
acter ?
Ques. IX. If of a mixed and equivocal char
acter, does the guarantee in any event apply to
such a war ?
Ques. X. What is the effect of a guarantee,
such as that to be found in the treaty of alliance
between the United States and France ?
Ques. XI. Does any article in either of the
treaties prevent ships of war, other than priva
teers, of the powers opposed to France, from
coming into the ports of the United States to
act as convoys to their own merchantmen ? or
does it lay any other restraints upon them more
than would apply to the ships of war of France ?
Ques. XII. Should the future regent of France
send a minister to the United States, ought he
to be received ?
Ques. XIH. Is it necessary or advisable to call
together the two houses of Congress, with a
view to the present posture of European affairs ?
if it is, what should be the particular objects of
such a call ?

CHAPTER VII.
1793—1794.
WASHINGTON SENDS JAY TO ENGLAND.
Meeting of Congress. — Washington's speech. — The opposition elect a speaker for the House of Representatives.—
Answers to Washington's speech. — Affairs with Spain. — Genet deserted by his former friends in Congress. — His
faction in France fallen. — Jefferson's report on commerce. — Jefferson resigns. — Succeeded by Randolph. — Brad
ford appointed attorney-general. — Mr. Madison's resolutions on commerce. — Bill for increasing the navy. —
British orders in council. — Mr. Sedgewick's motion for military defence. — Mr. Dayton proposes to sequester all
debts due to British subjects.— Second orders in council announced. — Effect on the two parties in Congress. —
Action of the press. — Portents of war with Great Britain. — Washington nominates John Jay minister plenipo
tentiary to Great Britain. — Unpopularity of the measure. — The Senate approves the nomination of Mr. Jay. —
Non-intercourse law taken up. — Defeated by the casting vote of Mr. Adams. — Neutrality act passed. — Inquiries re
specting the treasury, intended to criminate Hamilton. — Bills passed by Congress for defence. — Revenue bill.—
Congress adjourns. — State and character of parties. — Washington goes to Mount Vernon. — Letter to Randolph ; —
To Gouverneur Morris.

The time appointed for the reas
sembling of Congress was the first
Monday in December. Washington
had arrived at Philadelphia, and the
heads of departments were at their
posts before the end of November.
Although the fear of contagion was
not entirely dispelled when the time
for the meeting of Congress arrived,
yet, such was the active zeal of parties,
and such the universal expectation that
important executive communications
would be made, and that legislative
measures not less important would be
founded on them, that both houses
were full on the first day, and a joint
committee waited on the president with
the usual information that they were
ready to receive his communications.

1793.

On the 4th of December, at twelve,
the president met both houses in the sen
ate chamber. His speech was
moderate, firm, dignified, and
interesting. It commenced with his
own re-election, his feelings at which
were thus expressed :
" Since the commencement of the
term for which I have been again called
into office, no fit occasion has arisen for
expressing to my fellow-citizens at large,
the deep and respectful sense which I
feel of the renewed testimony of public
approbation. While, on the one hand,
it awakened my gratitude for all those
instances of affectionate partiality with
which I have been honored by my
country; on the other, it could not
prevent an earnest wish for that re-

552

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

tirement, from which no private con
sideration could ever have torn me.
But, influenced by the belief that my
conduct would be estimated according
to its real motives, and that the people,
and the authorities derived from them,
would support exertions having noth
ing personal for their object, I have
obeyed the suffrage which commanded
me to resume the executive power ; and
I humbly implore that Being on whose
will the fate of nations depends, to
crown with success our mutual endeav
ors for the general happiness."
Passing to those measures which had
been adopted by the executive for the
regulation of its conduct towards the
belligerent nations, he observed: "As
soon as the war in Europe had em
braced those powers with whom the
United States have the most extensive
relations, there was reason to apprehend
that our intercourse with them might
be interrupted, and our disposition for
peace drawn into question by suspicions
too often entertained by belligerent na
tions. It seemed therefore to be my
duty to admonish our citizens of the
consequence of a contraband trade, and
of hostile acts to any of the parties ;
and to obtain, by a declaration of the
existing state of things, an easier ad
mission of our rights to the immunities
belonging to our situation. Under these
impressions the proclamation which will
be laid before you was issued.
" In this posture of affairs, both new
and delicate, I resolved to adopt gen
eral rules which should conform to the

treaties, and assert the privileges of the
United States. These were reduced
into a system, which shall be communi
cated to you."
After suggesting those legislative
provisions on this, subject, the necessity
of which had been pointed out by ex
perience, he proceeded to say :
" I cannot recommend to your notice
measures for the fulfilment of our duties
to the rest of the world, without again
pressing upon you the necessity of pla
cing ourselves in a condition of complete
defence, and of exacting from them the
fulfilment of their duties towards us.
The United States ought not to indulge
a persuasion that, contrary to the order
of human events, they will forever keep
at a distance those painful appeals to
arms with which the history of every
nation abounds. There is a rank due
to the United States among nations
which will be withheld, if not abso
lutely lost, by the reputation of weak
ness. If we desire to avoid insult, we
must be able to repel it : if we desire
to secure peace — one of the most power
ful instruments of our prosperity — it
must be known that we are, at all times,
ready for war."
These observations were followed by
a recommendation to augment the sup
ply of arms and ammunition in the
magazines, and to improve the militia
establishment. After referring to a communication
to be subsequently made for occurren
ces relative to the connection of the
United States with Europe, which had,

Chap. VII.]

HIS ADDRESS TO CONGRESS.

55B

he said, become extremely interesting ;
and after reviewing Indian affairs, he
particularly addressed the House of
Representatives. Having presented to
them in detail some subjects of which it
was proper they should be informed, he
added : " No pecuniary consideration is
more urgent than the regular redemp
tion and discharge of the public debt ;
on none can delay be more injurious, or
an economy of time more valuable.
"The productiveness of the public
revenues hitherto has continued to be
equal to the anticipations which were
formed of it ; but it is not expected to
prove commensurate with all the ob
jects which have been suggested. Some
auxiliary provisions will therefore, it is
presumed, be requisite ; and it is hoped
that these may be made consistently
with a due regard to the convenience
of our citizens, who cannot but be sen
sible of the true wisdom of encountering
a small present addition to their contri
butions, to obviate a future accumula
tion of burdens."
The speech was concluded with the
following impressive exhortation :
" The several subjects to which I
have now referred, open a wide range
to your deliberations, and involve some
of the choicest interests of our common
country. Permit me to bring to your.
remembrance the magnitude of your
task. Without an unprejudiced cool
ness, the welfare of the government may
be hazarded : without harmony, as far
as consists with freedom of sentiment,
its dignity may be lost. But as the

legislative proceedings of the United
States will never, I trust, be reproached
for the want of temper or of candor, so
shall not the public happiness languish
from the want of my strenuous and
warmest co-operation."
The day succeeding that on which
this speech was delivered, a special
message was sent to both houses, con
taining some of the promised communi
cations relative to the connection of the
United States with foreign powers.
After suggesting, as a motive for this
communication, that it not only dis
closed " matter of interesting inquiry to
the legislature," but " might indeed give
rise to deliberations to which they
alone were competent," the president
added : " The representative and execu
tive bodies of France have manifested
generally a friendly attachment to this
country ; have given advantages to our
commerce and navigation ; and have
made overtures for placing these advan
tages on permanent ground. A decree,
however, of the National Assembly,
subjecting vessels laden with provisions
to be carried into their ports, and
making enemy goods lawful prize in the
vessel of a friend, contrary to our
treaty, though revoked at one time as
to the United States, has been since ex
tended to their vessels also, as has been
recently stated to us. Representations
on the subject will be immediately
given in charge to our minister there,
and the result shall be communicated
to the legislature.
" It is with extreme concern I have

554

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

to inform you that the person whom
they have unfortunately appointed
their minister plenipotentiary here, has
breathed nothing of the friendly spirit
of the nation which sent him. Their
tendency, on the contrary, has been to
involve us in a war abroad and discord
and anarchy at home. So far as his
acts, or those of his agents, have threat
ened an immediate commitment in the
war, or flagrant insult to the authority
of the laws, their effect has been coun
teracted by the ordinary cognizance 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 re
gard to his nation, from a sense of their
friendship towards us, from a conviction
that they would not suffer us to remain
long exposed to the actions of a person
who has so little respected our mutual
dispositions, and, I will add, from a re
liance on the firmness of my fellow-
citizens in their principles of peace and
order. In the mean time, I have re
spected and pursued the stipulations of
our treaties, according to what I judged
their true sense, and have withheld no
act of friendship which their affairs
have called for from us, and which jus
tice to others left us free to perform.
I have gone further. Rather than em
ploy force for the restitution of certain
vessels which I deemed the United
States bound to restore, I thought it
more advisable to satisfy the parties by
avowing it to be my opinion, that, if
restitution were not made, it would be

incumbent on the United States to
make compensation."
The message next proceeded to state
that inquiries had been instituted re
specting the vexations and spoliations
committed on the commerce of the
United States, the result of which, when
received, would be communicated.
The order issued by the British gov
ernment on the 8th of June, and the
measures taken by the executive of the
United States in consequence thereof,
were briefly noticed ; and the discus
sions which had taken place in relation
to the non-execution of the treaty of
peace, were also mentioned. The mes
sage was then concluded with a refer
ence to the negotiations with Spain.
"The public good," it was said, "re
quiring that the present state of these
should be made known to the legisla
ture in confidence only, they would be
the subject of a separate and subse
quent communication."
This message was accompanied with
copies of the correspondence between
the secretary of state and the French
minister, on the points of difference
which subsisted between the two gov
ernments, together with several docu
ments necessary for the establishment
of particular facts ; and with the letter
written by Mr. Jefferson to Mr. Morris,
which justified the conduct of the
United States by arguments too clear
to be misunderstood, and too strong
ever to be controverted.
The extensive discussions which had
taken place relative to the non-execution

Chap. VIL]

ANSWERS BY CONGRESS TO HIS ADDRESS.

555

of the treaty of peace, and the corre
spondence produced by the objection
able measures which had been adopted
by the British government during the
existing war, were also laid before the
legislature. In a popular government, the repre
sentatives of the people may generally
be considered as a mirror, reflecting
truly the passions and feelings which
govern their constituents. In the late
elections, the strength of parties had
been tried ; and the opposition had
derived so much aid from associating
the cause of France with its own prin
ciples, as to furnish much reason to
suspect that, in one branch of the legis
lature at least, it had become the ma
jority. The first act of the House of
Representatives served to strengthen
this suspicion. By each party a candi
date for the chair was brought for
ward ; and Mr. Muhlenberg, who was
supported by the opposition, was elect
ed by a majority of ten votes, against
Mr. Sedgewick, whom the federalists
supported. The answer, however, to Washing
ton's speech, bore no tinge of that
malignant and furious spirit which had
infused itself into the publications of
the day. Breathing the same affec
tionate attachment to his person and
character which had been professed in
other times, and being approved by
every part of the House, it indicated
that the leaders, at least, still vener
ated their chief magistrate, and that
no general intention as yet existed to

involve him in the obloquy directed
against his measures.
Noticing that unanimous suffrage by
which he had been again called to his
present station, " it was," they said,
" with equal sincerity and promptitude
they embraced the occasion for ex
pressing to him their congratulations
on so distinguished a testimony of pub
lic approbation, and their entire confi
dence in the purity and patriotism of
the motives which had produced this
obedience to the voice of his country.
It is," proceeded the address, " to vir
tues 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 flat
tery; and it is from the same sources
that the fairest anticipations may be
derived in favor of the public happi
ness." The proclamation of neutrality was
approved in guarded terms, and the
topics of the speech were noticed in a
manner which indicated dispositions
cordially to co-operate with the execu
tive. On the part of the Senate, also, the
answer to the speech was unfeignedly
affectionate. In warm terms they ex
pressed the pleasure which the re-elec
tion of Washington gave them. " In
the unanimity," they added, " which a
second time marks this important na
tional act, we trace with particular sat
isfaction, besides the distinguished trib
ute paid to the virtues and abilities

556

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

which it recognizes, another proof of
that discernment, and constancy of sen
timents and views, which have hitherto
characterized the citizens of the United
States." Speaking of the proclamation,
they declared it to be " a measure well
timed and wise, manifesting a watchful
solicitude for the welfare of the nation,
and calculated to promote it."
In a few days, a confidential message
from Washington was delivered, com
municating the critical situation of af
fairs with Spain. The negotiations at
tempted with that power in regard to
the interesting objects of boundary,
navigation, and commerce, had been
exposed to much delay and embarrass
ment, in consequence of the changes
which the French revolution had ef
fected in the political state of Europe.
Meanwhile, the neighborhood of the
Spanish colonies to the United States
had given rise to various other sub
jects of discussion, one of which had
assumed a very serious aspect.
Having the best reason to suppose
that the hostility of the southern In
dians was excited by the agents of
Spain, Washington had directed the
American commissioners at Madrid to
make the proper representations on
the subject, and to propose that each
nation should, with good faith, pro
mote the peace of the other with their
savage neighbors.
About the same time the Spanish
government entertained, or affected to
entertain, corresponding suspicions of
like hostile excitements by the agents

of the United States, to disturb their
peace with the same nations. The rep
resentations which were induced by
these real or affected suspicions, were
accompanied with pretensions, and
made in a style, to which the Ameri
can executive could not be inattentive.
The king of Spain asserted these claims
as a patron and protector of those In
dians. He assumed a right to mediate
between them and the United States,
and to interfere in the establishment of
their boundaries. At length, in the
very moment when those savages were
committing daily inroads on the Amer
ican frontier, at the instigation of Spain,
as was believed, the representatives of
that power, complaining of the aggres
sions of American citizens on the In
dians, declared "that the continuation
of the peace, good harmony, and per
fect friendship of the two nations was
very problematical for the future, un
less the United States should take more
convenient measures, and of greater en
ergy, than those adopted for a long
time past."
Notwithstanding the zeal and enthu
siasm with which the pretensions of the
French republic, as asserted by their
minister Genet, continued to be sup
ported out of doors, they found no open
advocate in either branch of the legis
lature. This circumstance is, in a great
measure, to be ascribed to the temper
ate conduct of the executive, and to
the convincing arguments with which
its decisions were supported.
But when it is recollected that the

Chap. VIL]

FALL OF GENET'S FACTION IN FRANCE.

557

odium which these decisions excited,
sustained no diminution ; that the ac
cusation of hostility to France and to
liberty, which originated in them, was
not retracted; that, when afterwards
many of the controverted claims were
renewed by France, her former advo
cates still adhered to her ; it is not un
reasonable to suppose that other con
siderations mingled themselves with
the conviction which the correspond
ence laid before the legislature was
calculated to produce.
An attack on the administration
could be placed on no ground more
disadvantageous than on its contro
versy with Mr. Genet. The conduct
and language of that minister were
offensive to reflecting men of all par
ties. The president had himself taken
so decisive a part in favor of the. meas
ures which had been adopted, that
they must be ascribed to him, not to
his cabinet; and, of consequence, the
whole weight of his personal character
must be directly encountered, in an
attempt to censure those measures.
From this censure it would have been
difficult to extricate the person who
was contemplated by the party in op
position as its chief; for the secretary
of state had urged the arguments of
the administration with a degree of
ability and earnestness, which ought to
have silenced the suspicion that he
might not feel their force.*
The expression of a legislative opin-

* Marshall.

Vol. H.— 71

ion, in favor of the points insisted on
by the French minister, would proba
bly have involved the nation in a ca
lamitous war, the whole responsibility
for which would rest on them.
To these considerations was added
another, which could not be disregard
ed. The party in France, to which
Mr. Genet owed his appointment, had
lost its power; and his fall was the
inevitable consequence of the fall of
his patrons. That he would probably
be recalled, was known in America ;
and that his conduct had been disap
proved by his government, was gen
erally believed. The future system of
the French republic, with regard to
the United States, could not be fore
seen ; and it would be committing
something to hazard, not to wait its
development. These objections did not exist to an
indulgence of the partialities and pre
judices of the nation towards the bel
ligerent powers, in measures suggested
by its resentment against Great Britain.
But, independent of these considera
tions, it is scarcely possible to doubt
that Congress really approved the con
duct of the executive with regard to
France, and was also convinced that a
course of hostility had been pursued
by Great Britain, which the national
interest and the national honor re
quired them to repel. In the irritable
state of the public mind, it was not
difficult to produce this opinion.
Early in the session a report was
made by Mr. Jefferson, secretary of

558

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

state, in pursuance of a resolution of
the House of Representatives, passed
on the 23d of February, 1791, requir
ing him "to report to Congress the
nature and extent of the privileges and
restrictions of the commercial inter
course of the United States with for
eign nations, and the measures which
he should think proper to be adopted
for the improvement of the commerce
and navigation of the same."
This report stated the exports of the
United States, in articles of their own
produce and manufacture, at nineteen
millions five hundred and eighty-seven
thousand and fifty-five dollars ; and the
imports at nineteen millions eight hun
dred and twenty-three thousand and
sixty dollars.
Of the exports, nearly one half was
carried to the kingdom of Great Brit
ain and its dominions ; of the imports,
about four-fifths were brought from the
same countries. The American ship
ping amounted to two hundred and
seventy-seven thousand five hundred
and nineteen tons, of which not quite
one-sixth was employed in the trade
with Great Britain and its dominions.
In all the nations of Europe, most of
the articles produced in the United
States were subject to heavy duties,
and some of them were prohibited.
In England, the trade of the United
States was in general on as good a foot
ing as the trade of other countries ; and
several articles were more favored than
the same articles, the growth of other
countries.

The statements and arguments of
this report tended to enforce the pol
icy of making discriminations which
might favor the commerce of the
United States with France, and dis
courage that with England ; and which
might promote the increase of Ameri
can navigation as a branch of industry
and a resource of defence.
This was the last official act of the
secretary of state. Early in the pre
ceding summer he had signified to the
president his intention to retire in Sep
tember from the public service ; and
had, with some reluctance, consented
to postpone the execution of this in
tention to the close of the year. Re
taining his purpose, he resigned his
office on the last day of December.
He was succeeded by Edmund Ran
dolph, whose place as attorney-general
was supplied by William Bradford, of
Pennsylvania. On the fourth of January the House
resolved itself into a committee of the
whole, on the report of. the sec
retary of state, relative to the
restrictions of the commerce of the
United States, when Mr. Madison, after
some prefatory observations, laid on
the table a series of resolutions for the
consideration of the members.
These memorable resolutions em
braced almost completely the idea of
the report. They imposed an addi
tional duty on the manufactures, and
on the tonnage of vessels of nations
having no commercial treaty with the
United States ; while they reduced the

1794.

Chap. VII.]

BILL FOR INCREASING THE NAVY.

559

duties already imposed by law on the
tonnage of vessels belonging to nations
having such commercial treaty ; and
they reciprocated the restrictions which
were imposed on American navigation.
The resolutions were taken up on
the 13th of January, and the consid
eration of them led to protracted and
very animated debates. The friends of
the administration regarded Mr. Madi
son's scheme as directly hostile to Eng
land and subservient to the views of
France, in a degree utterly inconsistent
with the policy of neutrality. On the
other hand, the opposition insisted that
the proposed measures were absolutely
necessary to protect the commerce of
the country from aggression and plun
der. Mr. Madison, in advocating the views
which he held, looked especially to
measures correspondent to the British
navigation act, which had given Eng
land the command of the sea. He con
tended that America would thrive more
from exclusion and contest, than from
conciliating and stooping to a power
that slighted her ; and that now was
the moment, if ever, when England was
engaged in mortal strife with France, to
bring her to reason.*
Mr. Madison's plan was debated at
different periods of the session, and un
derwent considerable modification in its
° Madison, on this and other occasions, appears to
have been earnestly desirous to build up an extensive
mercantile marine, with a view to the formation of an
efficient navy. It is pleasant to recollect that, under his
administration as president, the proudest triumphs of our
navy were achieved.

progress through the House, where a
resolution was finally adopted retaining
the principle of commercial restrictions.
It was rejected in the Senate by the
casting vote of Mr. Adams, the vice-
president. Early in January, a resolution was
agreed to in the House, declaring " that
a naval force, adequate to the protec
tion of the commerce of the United
States against the Algerine corsairs,
ought to be provided." The force pro
posed was to consist of six frigates.
This measure was founded on the
communications of the president re
specting the improbability of being
able to negotiate a peace with the dey
of Algiers ; and on undoubted informa
tion that these pirates had, during their
first short cruise in the Atlantic, cap
tured eleven American merchantmen,
and made upwards of one hundred pris
oners, and were preparing to renew
their attack on the unprotected vessels
of the United States.
This bill was strongly opposed, but
finally passed both houses, and was ap
proved by the president.
While these debates were going on,
the news of the British order in council
of the 6th of November (which had
not become known to the American
minister in England until the close of
December, 1793), relative to the French
West India trade, arrived in the United
States, and roused afresh the hostility
against England. Such was the
threatening aspect of affairs,
that early in the session a committee ot

560

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the House was instructed to prepare
and report an estimate of the expense
requisite to place the principal seaports
of the country in a state of defence.
That some steps should be taken to
resist aggressions on the part of Eng
land, was very evident ; but the mem
bers of Congress differed as to what
measures ought to be adopted. The
opponents of the administration urged
the adoption of commercial restrictions,
while its supporters, with the president
himself, were in favor of a different
course. Various plans were submitted
to the House by members, in accord
ance with their different views of the
subject. On the 12th of March, Mr. Sedge-
wick moved several resolutions, the
objects of which were to raise a mili
tary force, and to authorize the presi
dent to lay an embargo. The arma
ment was to consist of fifteen thousand
men, who should be brought into actual
service in case of war with any Euro
pean power, but not until war should
break out. In the mean time they
were to receive pay while assembled
for the purpose of discipline, which was
not to exceed twenty-four days in each
year. After stating the motives which led
to the introduction of these resolutions,
they were laid on the table for the con
sideration of the members.
On the 21st of March, Mr. Sedge-
wick's motion, authorizing the president
to lay an embargo, was negatived by a
majority of two votes; but in a few

days the consideration of that subject
was resumed, and a resolution passed
prohibiting all trade from the United
States to any foreign port or place for
thirty days, and empowering the presi
dent to carry the resolution into effect.
On the 27th of March, Mr. Dayton
moved a resolution for sequestering all
debts due to British subjects, and for
taking means to secure their payment
into the treasury, as a fund out of which
to indemnify the citizens of the United
States for depredations committed on
their commerce by British cruisers, in
violation of the laws of nations.
The debate on this resolution was
such as was to be expected from the
irritable state of the public mind. The
invectives against the British nation
were uttered with peculiar vehemence,
and were mingled with allusions to the
exertions of the government for the
preservation of neutrality, censuring
strongly the system which had been
pursued. Before any question was taken on
the proposition for sequestering British
debts, and without a decision on those
proposed by Mr. Madison, Mr. Clarke
moved a resolution which in some de
gree suspended the commercial regula
tions that had been so earnestly de
bated. This was to prohibit all inter
course with Great Britain, until her
government should make full compen
sation for all injuries done to the citi
zens of the United States by armed
vessels, or by any person or persons
acting under the authority of the Brit-

Chap. VIL]

BRITISH ORDERS IN COUNCIL.

561

ish king, and until the western posts
should be delivered up.
On the fourth of April, before any
decision was made on the several propo
sitions which have been stated, the
president laid before Congress a letter
just received from Thomas Pinckney,
the minister of the United States at
London, communicating additional in
structions to the commanders of British
armed ships, which were dated the
eighth of January. These instructions
revoked those of the sixth of Novem
ber ; and, instead of bringing in for
adjudication all neutral vessels trading
with the French islands, British cruisers
were directed to bring in those only
which were laden with cargoes the pro
duce of the French islands, and were on
a direct voyage from those islands to
Europe. The letter detailed a conversation
with Lord Grenville on this subject, in
which his lordship explained the mo
tives which had originally occasioned
the order of the 6th of November, and
gave to it a less extensive signification
than it had received in the courts of
vice-admiralty. It was intended, he said, to be tem
porary, and was calculated to answer
two purposes. One was, to prevent the
abuses which might take place in conse
quence of the whole of the St. Domingo
fleet having gone to the United States ;
the other was on account of the attack
designed upon the French West India
islands by the armament under Sir
John Jervis and Sir Charles Grey ; but

it was now no longer necessary to con
tinue the regulations for those purposes.
His lordship added, that the order of
the 6th of November did not direct the
confiscation of all vessels trading with
the French islands, but only that they
should be brought in for legal adjudi
cation ; and he conceived that no vessel
would be condemned under it which
would not have been previously liable
to the same sentence.
The influence of this communication
on the party in the legislature which
was denominated federal, was very con
siderable. Believing that the existing
differences between the two nations still
admitted of explanation and adjust
ment, they strenuously opposed all
measures which were irritating in their
tendency, or which might be construed
into a dereliction of the neutral charac
ter they were desirous of maintaining ;
but they gave all their weight to those
which, by putting the nation in a pos
ture of defence, prepared it for war,
should negotiation fail.
On the opposite party, no change of
sentiment or of views appears to have
been produced. Their system seems to
have been matured, and not to have ori
ginated in the feelings of the moment.
They adhered to it therefore with in
flexible perseverance, but seemed not
anxious to press an immediate determin
ation of the propositions which had been
made. These propositions were dis
cussed with great animation ; but, not
withstanding an ascertained majority in
their favor, were permitted to remain

562

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

undecided, as if their fate depended on
some extrinsic circumstance.
Meanwhile, great exertions were
made to increase the public agitation,
and to stimulate the resentments which
were felt against Great Britain. The
artillery of the press was played with
unceasing fury on the minority of the
House of Representatives, and the dem
ocratic societies brought their whole
force into operation. Language will
scarcely afford terms of greater outrage
than were employed against those who
sought to stem the torrent of public
opinion, and to moderate the rage of
the moment. They were denounced as
a British faction, seeking to impose
chains on their countrymen. Even the
majority was declared to be but half
roused, and to show little of that ener
gy and decision which the crisis re
quired. The proceedings of Congress con
tinued to manifest a fixed purpose to
pursue the system which had been
commenced; and the public sentiment
seemed to accord with that system.
That the nation was advancing rapidly
to a state of war, was firmly believed
by many intelligent men, who doubted
the necessity and denied the policy of
abandoning the neutral position which
had been thus long maintained. In
addition to the extensive calamities
which must, in any state of things,
result to the United States from a rup
ture with a nation which was the mis
tress of the ocean, and which furnished
the best market for the sale of their

produce, and the purchase of manu
factures of indispensable necessity, there
were considerations belonging exclu
sively to the moment, which, though
operating only in a narrow circle, were
certainly entitled to great respect.*
That war with Britain, during the
continuance of the passionate and al
most idolatrous devotion of a great
majority of the people to the French
republic, would throw America so com
pletely into the arms of France as to
leave her no longer mistress of her
own conduct, was not the only fear
which the temper of the day suggest
ed. That the spirit which triumphed
in that nation, and deluged it with
the blood of its revolutionary cham
pions, might cross the Atlantic, and
desolate the hitherto safe and peaceful
dwellings of the American people, was
an apprehension not so entirely unsup
ported by appearances, as to be pro
nounced chimerical. With a blind in
fatuation, which treated reason as a
criminal, immense numbers applauded
a furious despotism, trampling on every
right, and sporting with life, as the
essence of liberty; and the few who
conceived freedom to be a plant which
did not flourish the better for being
nourished with human blood, and who
ventured to disapprove the ravages of
the guillotine, were execrated as the
tools of the coalesced despots, and as
persons who, to weaken the affection
of America for France, became the

c Marshall.

Chap. Vn.]

PORTENTS OF WAR WITH GREAT BRITAIN.

563

calumniators of that republic. Already
had an imitative spirit, captivated with
the splendor, but copying the errors
of a great nation, reared up in every
part of the continent self-created corre
sponding societies, who, claiming to be
the people, assumed a control over the
government, and were loosening its
bands. Already were the mountain,*
and a revolutionary tribunal, favorite
toasts ; and already were principles fa
miliarly proclaimed, which, in France,
had been the precursors of that tre
mendous and savage despotism, which,
in the name of the people, and by the
instrumentality of affiliated societies,
had spread its terrific sway over that
fine country, and had threatened to
extirpate all that was wise and virtu
ous. That a great majority of those
statesmen who conducted the opposi
tion would deprecate such a result, fur
nished no security against it. When
the physical force of a nation usurps
the place of its wisdom, those who
have produced such a state of things
no longer control it.
These apprehensions, whether well
or ill founded, produced in those who
felt them, an increased solicitude for
the preservation of peace. Their aid
was not requisite to confirm the judg
ment of Washington on this interesting
subject. Fixed in his purpose of main
taining the neutrality of the United
States, until the aggressions of a foreign

° A well known term designating the most violent
party in France.

power should clearly render neutrality
incompatible with honor ; and conceiv
ing from the last advices received from
England, that the differences between
the two nations had not yet attained
that point, he determined to make
one decisive effort, which should either
remove the ostensible causes of quar
rel, or demonstrate the indisposition of
Great Britain to remove them. This
determination was executed by the
nomination of an envoy extraordinary
to his Britannic maiesty, which 1794.
was announced to the Senate,
on the 16th of April, in the following
terms :
"The communications which I have
made to you during your present ses
sion, from the dispatches of our minis
ter in London, contain a serious aspect
of our affairs with Great Britain. But
as peace ought to be pursued with un
remitted zeal, before the last resource —
which has so often been the scourge of
nations, and cannot fail to check the
advanced prosperity of the United
States — is contemplated, I have thought
proper to nominate, and do hereby
nominate John Jay, as envoy extraor
dinary of the United States to his Bri
tannic majesty.*
" My confidence in our minister plen
ipotentiary in London continues undi
minished. But a mission like this,
while it corresponds with the solemnity
of the occasion, will announce to the

° Mr. Jay's secretary on this mission was Colonel John
Trumbull. (See Document at the end of this chapter.)

564

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

world a solicitude for the friendly ad
justment of our complaints, and a re
luctance to hostility. Going immedi
ately from the United States, such an
envoy will carry with him a full knowl
edge of the existing temper and sensi
bility of our country ; and will thus be
taught to vindicate our rights with
firmness, and to cultivate peace with
sincerity." To those who believed the interests of
the nation to require a rupture with Eng
land, and a still closer connection with
France, nothing could be more unlooked
for, or more unwelcome, than this deci
sive measure. That it would influence
the proceedings of Congress could not be
doubted ; and that it would materially
affect the public mind was probable.
Evincing the opinion of the executive
that negotiation, not legislative hostility,
was still the proper medium for accom
modating differences with Great Britain,
it threw on the legislature a great re
sponsibility, if they should persist in a
system calculated to defeat that negotia
tion. By showing to the people that their
president did not yet believe war to be
necessary, it turned the attention of
many to peace; and, by suggesting the
probability, rekindled the almost extin
guished desire, of preserving that bless
ing. Scarcely has any public act of the
president drawn upon his administra
tion a greater degree of censure than
this. That such would be its effect,
could not be doubted by a person who
had observed the ardor with which

opinions that it thwarted were em
braced, or the extremity to which the
passions and contests of the moment
had carried all orders of men. But it is
the province of real patriotism to consult
the utility, more than the popularity of
a measure ; and to pursue the path of
duty, although it may be rugged.
In the Senate, the nomination was
approved by a majority of ten votes ;
and, in the House of Representatives,
it was urged as an argument against
persevering in the system which had
been commenced. On the 18th of
April, a motion for taking up the re
port of the committee of the whole
house on the resolution for cutting off
all commercial intercourse with Great
Britain, was opposed, chiefly on the
ground that, as an envoy had been
nominated to the court of that country,
no obstacle ought to be thrown in his
way. The adoption of the resolution
would be a bar to negotiation, because
it used the language of menace, and
manifested a partiality to one of the bel
ligerents which was incompatible with
neutrality. It was also an objection to
the resolution, that it prescribed the
terms on which alone a treaty should
be made, and was consequently an in
fringement of the right of the execu
tive to negotiate, and an indelicacy to
that department.
The resolution having undergone
some modifications, a bill in conformity
with it was brought in and carried by
a considerable majority. In the Senate
it was lost by the casting vote of Mr.

Chap. VIL]

NEUTRALITY ACT PASSED.

565

Adams, the vice-president. The sys
tem which had been taken up in the
House of Representatives was pressed
no further.
A bill for punishing infringements of
the neutrality laws, and prohibiting the
condemnation and sale of prizes in the
ports of the United States, brought in
by the belligerent powers, was sug
gested by Washington, and reported in
the Senate, where it met a violent op
position, and was finally passed by the
casting vote of the vice-president. In
the House of Representatives it was
passed after striking out the provision
relative to the sale of prizes. In main
taining his system of strict neutrality,
Washington had to fight every inch of
the ground. The opposition omitted
no means of bringing the administra
tion into discredit. Attacks in Con
gress on the executive officers of the
government were resorted to.
In both houses inquiries were set on
foot respecting the treasury depart
ment, which obviously originated in
the hope of finding some foundation
for censuring Mr. Hamilton, the secre
tary, but which failed entirely. In a
similar hope, as respected Gouverneur
Morris, the minister of the United
States at Paris, the Senate passed a
vote requesting the president to lay be
fore that body his correspondence with
the French republic, and also with the
department of state.
As a war with Great Britain seemed
inevitable, should the mission of Mr.
Jay prove unsuccessful, Congress did
Vol. II.— 72

not adjourn without passing the abso
lutely necessary laws for putting the
country in a state of defence. Provision
was made for fortifying the principal
harbors, and eighty thousand militia
were ordered to be in readiness for
active service. Arms and munitions of
war were allowed to be imported free
of duty, and the president was author
ized to purchase galleys, and lay an
embargo, if he should deem that the
public interest required it. To meet
the expenses thus incurred, duties were
levied on a number of additional arti
cles of importation.
On the 9th of June, this active and
stormy session was closed by an ad
journment to the first Monday in the
succeeding November.
"The public," says Marshall, "was
not less agitated than the legislature
had been, by those interesting ques
tions, which had occasioned some of
the most animated and eloquent dis
cussions that had ever taken place on
the floor of the House of Representa
tives. Mr. Madison's resolutions espe
cially, continued to be the theme of
general conversation ; and, for a long
time, divided parties throughout the
United States. The struggle for pub
lic opinion was ardent ; and each party
supported- its pretensions, not only with
those arguments which each deemed
conclusive, but also by those reciprocal
criminations which, perhaps, each, in
part, believed.
"The opposition declared that the
friends of the administration were an

566

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

aristocratic and corrupt faction, who,
from a desire to introduce monarchy,
were hostile to France, and under the
influence of Britain : that they sought
every occasion to increase expense, to
augment debt, to multiply the public
burdens, to create armies and navies,
and, by the instrumentality of all this
machinery, to govern and enslave the
people : that they were a paper nobili
ty, whose extreme sensibility at every
measure which threatened the funds,
induced a tame submission to injuries
and insults, which the interest and the
honor of the nation required them to
resist. "The friends of the administration
retorted, that the opposition was pre
pared to sacrifice the best interests of
their country on the altar of the French
revolution : that they were willing to
go to war for French, not for American
objects : that while they urged war,
they withheld the means of supporting
it, in order the more effectually to
humble and disgrace the government:
that they were so blinded by their pas
sion for France, as to confound crimes
with meritorious deeds, and to abolish
the natural distinction between virtue
and vice : that the. principles which
they propagated, and with which they
sought to intoxicate the people, were,
in practice, incompatible with the ex
istence of government : that they
were the apostles of anarchy, not of
freedom; and were, consequently, not
the friends of real and rational lib
erty."

Immediately after the adjournment
of Congress, Washington paid a short
visit to Mount Vernon. On the 19th
of June he writes from Baltimore, to
Randolph, secretary of state, respecting
the commission and letters of credence
of John Quincy Adams, whom he had
recently appointed minister resident to
the United Netherlands. From the
same place, on the same day, he writes
to Gouverneur Morris, who had recent
ly been recalled from France at the
request of the revolutionary authori
ties, he having pretty openly expressed
his disapprobation of the excesses of
the party in power. Washington had
appointed as his successor James Mon
roe, who, as senator, had uniformly op
posed the measures of the administra
tion. Such an act of magnanimity in
these times would excite considerable
surprise. On the 25th of June, after his arrival
at Mount Vernon, Washington again
writes to Gouverneur Morris, who still
retained his warm friendship and confi
dence. Speaking of his political course,
he says : " My primary objects, to which
I have steadily adhered, have been to
preserve the country in peace if I can,
and to be prepared for war if I cannot ;
to effect the first, upon terms consistent
with the respect which is due to our
selves, and with honor, justice, and
good faith to all the world."
On the same day he writes to Ed
mund Randolph, secretary of state : " I
shall endeavor to be back by the time
I allotted before I left Philadelphia, if I

Chap. VIL]

LETTER TO EDMUND RANDOLPH.

567

am able ; but an exertion to save my
self and horse from falling among the
rocks at the lower falls of the Potomac,
whither I went on Sunday morning to
see the canal and locks, has wrenched
my back in such a manner as to pre
vent my riding; and hitherto has de

feated the purposes for which I came
home. My stay here will only be until
I can ride with ease and safety, whether
I accomplish my own business or not."
In July, Washington returned to
Philadelphia, where very weighty mat
ters were demanding his attention.

DOCUMENT ILLUSTRATOG CHAPTER YII,

COLONEL JOHN TRUMBULL.
John Tetjmbtjll was born at Lebanon, Con
necticut, on the 6th of June, 1756. His father,
Joseph Trumbull, was at a very early age placed
at Harvard College, where he became a distin
guished scholar, acquiring a sound knowledge
of the Hebrew, Latin, and Greek languages.
He graduated with honor in 1727. He died in
1785, having been governor of the State of
Connecticut, by annual election, during the en
tire war of the Revolution ; and was the only
person who, being first magistrate of a colony
in America, before the separation from Great
Britain, retained the confidence of his country
men through the Revolution, and was annually
re-elected governor to the end of that eventful
period. The mother of Colonel Trumbull was the
great-grand-daughter of John Robinson, the
father of the pilgrims, who led our Puritan an
cestors out of England in the reign of James
I., and resided with them some years at Ley-
den, in Holland, and in 1620 emigrated with
them to Plymouth, in Massachusetts, where,
among other acts of wisdom and piety, was laid
the foundation of that system of education in
town schools, which has of later years become
so widely extended in the United States, form
ing the glory and defence of the country.
Colonel Trumbull, immediately after his birth,
was attacked by convulsion fits, which recurred
daily, and increased in violence and frequency
till he was nearly nine months old, — the cause
was hidden from the medical men of the vicin
ity, — when one of his father's early friends, Dr.
Terry, of Suffield, an eminent physician, called
accidentally to make him a passing visit, and
was requested to look at the unhappy child.

He immediately pronounced the disease to be
caused by compression of the brain ; the bones
of the skull, instead of uniting in the several
sutures, and forming a smooth surface, had
slipped over each other, forming sensible ridges
on the head, by which means, the brain not
having room to expand, convulsions followed.
He said that medicine was useless, and that
nothing but the untiring care of the mother
could effect a cure ; and this could be done
only by applying her hands to the head of the
child daily, and gently and carefully drawing
the bones apart. If relief was not obtained by
this means, the child would die early, or, should
it live, would become an idiot.
The instructions of Dr. Terry were followed
by the mother of Trumbull with unremitted
care ; by degrees favorable symptoms appeared,
the convulsions became less and less frequent,
until, at about three years old, the natural form
of the head was restored, and they ceased en
tirely. Lebanon was long celebrated for having the
best school in New England. It was kept by
Nathan Tisdale, a native of the place, from the
time he graduated at Harvard College to the
day of his death, a period of thirty years, with
an assiduity and fidelity of the most exalted
character, and became so widely known that
he had scholars from the West India Islands,
Georgia, North and South Carolina, as well as
from the New England and northern colonies.
With this excellent scholar John Trumbull
was placed at a very early age: his sufferings
and his subsequent docility soon made him a
favorite. John's mind, which had so long been re
pressed by disease, seemed to spring forward
with increased energy as soon as the pressure

Chap. VH.]

DOCUMENT.

569

upon tl e brain was removed. He early dis
played a singular facility in acquiring knowl
edge, particularly of languages, so that at the
age of six years he could read Greek with per
fect ease. At this period he had a contest
with the late Rev. Joseph Leyman, pastor of
Hatfield, in Massachusetts, a boy several years
his senior. They read the first five verses of
the Gospel of St. John ; Leyman missed one
word, John not any, and therefore gained the
victory. His knowledge of the Greek language
at this early age was very imperfect, but he
knew the forms of the letters, the words, and
their sounds, and could read them accurately.
His taste for drawing began to dawn early ; but
this was not the result of natural genius, but is
traced by himself to mere imitation. His sister,
Faith, had acquired some knowledge of draw
ing, and had even painted in oil two heads and
a landscape. These were hung in his mother's
parlor, and were among the first objects that
struck his infant eye. He endeavored to imi
tate them, and for several years the nicely
sanded floors (for carpets were at that time un
known in Lebanon) were constantly scrawled
with his rude attempts at drawing.
Whea John was five years old an accident of
a serious nature befell him. He, in playing with
his sisters, fell headlong down a flight of stairs,
and was taken up insensible ; the forehead over
the left eye was severely bruised. He however
soon recovered, but with the loss of sight of his
left eye, the optic nerve of which must have
been severely injured in the fall.
When he was ten years of age a circumstance
occurred which deserves to be written upon
adamant. In the wars of New England with
the aborigines, the Mohegan tribe of Indians
early became the friends of the English. The
government of this tribe had become hereditary
in the family of the celebrated chief Uncas.
During the time of the mercantile prosperity of
John's father, he had employed several Indians
of this tribe in hunting animals, whose skins
were valuable for their fur. Among these hunt
ers was one named Zachary, of the royal race,
an excellent hunter, but as drunken and worth
less an Indian as ever lived. When he had
passed the age of fifty, several members of the

royal family who stood between Zachary and
the throne of his tribe died, and he found him
self with only one life between him and empire.
In this moment his better genius resumed its
sway, and he reflected seriously, " How can
such a drunken wretch as I am aspire to be the
chief of this honorable race — what will my peo
ple say — and how will the shades of my noble
ancestors look down indignant upon such a base
successor ! Can I succeed the great Uncas ?
I will drink no more!" This resolution was
never broken.
John had heard this story, but did not en
tirely believe it, for, young as he then was, he
already partook in the prevailing contempt for
Indians. In the beginning of May, the annual
election of the principal officers of the (then)
colony was held at Hartford, the capital. Mr.
Joseph Trumbull attended in an official capaci
ty, and it was customary for the chief of the
Mohegans also to attend. Zachary had suc
ceeded to the rule of his tribe, and the old chief
was in the habit of coming a few days before
the election, and dining with his brother gov
ernor. While seated at dinner one day, John
conceived the mischievous thought of trying
the sincerity of the old man's temperance, and
thus addressed him: "Zachary, this beer is
excellent; will you taste it?" The old man
dropped his knife and fork, and his black eyes
sparkled with indignation. "John," said he,
" you do not know what you are doing. You
are serving the devil, boy! Do you not know
that I am an Indian ? I tell you that I am, and
that, if I should but taste your beer, I could
never stop till I got to rum, and become again
the drunken, contemptible wretch your father
remembers me to have been. John, while you
live, never again tempt any man to break a good
resolution^ John's parents frequently remind
ed him of this scene, and charged him never to
forget it. Zachary lived to pass the age of
eighty, and sacredly kept his resolution.
About this time the mercantile failure of
John's father took place : in one season, nearly
all his vessels and all the property he had upon
the ocean were swept away, and he was a poor
man at so late a period of life as left no hope
of retrieving his affairs. The want of pocket-

570

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

money now prevented John from mingling
much with his young companions, and he grad
ually acquired a solitary habit, and after school
hours withdrew to his own room to a close
study of his favorite pursuit, drawing.
At the age of twelve years, John had ad
vanced so rapidly in his studies, that he might
have been admitted to enter college ; he was
thoroughly versed in the Latin and Greek
languages, and in geography, both ancient and
modern. He had also read with care Rollin's
and Crevier's histories. In arithmetic alone, he
met with difficulties. He became puzzled by a
sum in division, where the divisor consisted of
three figures. At length, however, the question
was solved, and he went rapidly through the
lower and higher branches of mathematics, so
that when he had reached the age of fifteen and
a half years, it was stated by his master, that
he was fully qualified to enter Harvard College
in the middle of the third or junior year. This
was approved of by his father, and proposed to
him. In the mean time, his fondness for draw
ing and painting had grown with his growth,
and when his father informed him of his inten
tion to place him at college, he ventured to re
monstrate with him, and desired that he might
be placed under the instruction of Mr. Copley,
an eminent artist of Boston, father of Lord
Lyndhurst, the late lord-chancellor of England ;
by this means he would possess a profession, and
the means of supporting himself— perhaps of
assisting the family. He was, however, over
ruled by his father, and in January, 1772, was
sent to Cambridge, passed the examination in
form, and was readily admitted to the junior
class, who were then in the middle of the third
year, so that he had but one year and a half to
remain in college. During his stay at college
he became acquainted with a French family re
siding at Cambridge. This family, besides the
parents, comprised several children of both
sexes ; in their society Trumbull made good
progress, and there laid the foundation of a
knowledge of the French language, which in
his after life was of eminent utility.
Several paintings were executed by him dur
ing his stay at college, one of which received
so much approbation from the professors and

students of the college, that he ventured to
show it to Mr. Copley, and had the pleasure to
hear it commended by him also. In July, 1773,
he was graduated with honor, and returned to
Lebanon. In the autumn of this year, 1773,
Nathan Tisdale, his former master, had a stroke
of paralysis, which disabled him entirely from
performing his duties. Trumbull, with the ap
probation of his father, took charge of the
school until the following spring, when Mr.
Tisdale had so far recovered as to be able to
resume his invaluable labors.
In the summer of 1774, the angry discussions
between Great Britain and her colonies began
to assume a very serious tone.
Trumbull soon caught the growing enthusi
asm: his father was at this time governor of the
colony, and a patriot.
He now anxiously sought for military in
formation, acquired what knowledge he could,
and soon formed a company from among the
young men of the school and the village, who
taught each other to use the musket and to
march; in fact, military exercises and studies
became the favorite occupation of the day.
In the latter part of April, 1775, Trumbull
entered the army as adjutant of the first Con
necticut regiment, which was stationed at Rox-
bury, near Boston. From this place he had a
distant view of the battle of Bunker Hill.
Soon after the battle, General Washington
arrived and took command of the army. On
his arrival, Trumbull was informed that the
commander-in-chief was desirous of obtaining
a correct . plan of the enemy's works in front
of the Americans' position on Boston Neck.
This plan was drawn by Trumbull, and shown
to Washington, who was so well pleased with
it, that he appointed Trumbull his second aid-
de-camp. Trumbull now found himself in the
family of one of the most distinguished and
dignified men of his age, surrounded at his
table by the principal officers of the army, and
in constant intercourse with them : it was also
his duty to receive company, and do the honors
of the house to many of the first people of the
country, of both sexes. To this duty Trumbull
found himself unequal, and was gratified when
he received the appointment of major of brigade

Chap. VIL]

DOCUMENT.

571

at Roxbury. In this situation he soon attracted
the attention of Gates, and became in some de
gree a favorite with him.
In June, 1776, Gates having been appointed
to the command of the Northern department,
which was then understood to be Canada, and
the northern frontier, appointed Trumbull as
one of his adjutants, with the rank of colonel.
Colonel Trumbull proceeded with General
Gates to Crown Point. His first duty on his
arrival at this place was to procure a return of
the number and condition of the troops. He
found the total of officers and men to be five
thousand two hundred, and the sick that re
quired the attentions of a hospital were two
thousand eight hundred ; so that when they
were sent off, with the number of men necessary
to row them to the hospital, which had been
established at the south end of Lake Gedrge, a
distance of fifty miles, there would remain at
Crown Point but the shadow of an army. This
post was therefore abandoned, and the army
fell back to Ticonderoga.
While the army remained at this latter post,
Colonel Trumbull assisted in completing its de
fences, and drew several plans of the same, for
the American generals ; he also advised a new
plan of defence, as the present, he said, was im
practicable with an army of less than ten thou
sand men. His plan, although a correct one,
was however rejected.
Colonel Trumbull remained with the north
ern division of the army till the latter part of
November, at which time the greater part of
the troops under General Gates proceeded to
Albany, and from thence to Newtown to join
the forces under General Washington, where
they arrived a few days before his glorious vic
tory at Trenton.
General Arnold and Colonel Trumbull were
ordered to join the forces under General Spen
cer, at Providence. While at this post, a slight
misunderstanding occurred with respect to the
date of the commission of Colonel Trumbull
as adjutant-general, which caused him to resign.
Immediately after his resignation he returned
to Lebanon, resumed his pencil, and after some
time went to Boston, where he thought he could
pursue his studies to more advantage. There

he hired the painting-room built by Mr. Smi-
bert, the patriarch of painting in America, and
found in it several copies by him from cele
brated pictures in Europe. These copies were
very useful to him, as there remained in Boston
no artist capable of giving him instruction, Mr.
Copley having gone to Europe.
At this period a club was formed in Boston
of young men fresh from college. This club
met in Colonel Trumbull's rooms, regaled them
selves with a cup of tea instead of wine, and
discussed subjects of literature, politics, and
war. Among its members were Rufus King,
Christopher Gore, William Eustis, Thomas
Dawes, and other men who in after life became
distinguished. The war was a period little favorable to
regular study and deliberate pursuits. Trum
bull's habits were often desultory. A deep and
settled regret of the military career from which
he had been driven, and to which there ap
peared to be no possibility of an honorable re
turn, preyed upon his spirits ; and the sound of
a drum would not unfrequently call from his eye
an involuntary tear.
In the year 1778, a plan was formed for the
recovery of Rhode Island from the hands of
the English, by the co-operation of the French
fleet under the command of Count d'Estaing,
and a body of American troops under the com
mand of General Sullivan. Colonel Trumbull
seized this occasion to gratify his love of a mili
tary life, and offered his services to General
Sullivan as a volunteer aid-de-camp. His offer
was accepted, and he attended him during the
enterprise ; after which he returned to Boston
and again resumed his pencil, pursuing the study
of painting with great assiduity during the fol
lowing year. His friends, however, were dissat
isfied with his pursuit, and at length persuaded
him to undertake the management of a con
siderable speculation, which required a voyage
to Europe, and which (on paper) promised great
results. They were to furnish funds, he to ex
ecute the plan and share with 'hem the expected
profits. Colonel Trumbull, during his residence in
Boston, became acquainted with Mr. Temple,
afterwards Sir John, and consul-general of Great

572

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Britain in New York. This gentleman was ac
quainted with Mr. West, in London, and strong
ly urged Trumbull to go there and study with
him. Connected as Colonel Trumbull was, and
hostile as his conduct had been, he did not
believe this could be done with safety during
the war ; but Mr. Temple was confident that,
through the influence of his friends in London,
permission could be obtained from the British
government. Mr. Temple shortly after went to
London, and before Colonel Trumbull was ready
to embark on his commercial pursuit, he re
ceived information from him, " that if he chose
to visit London for the purpose of studying the
fine arts, no notice would be taken of his past
life — that so long as he avoided all political
intervention, and pursued the study of the arts
with assiduity, he might rely upon being un
molested." Thus Colonel Trumbull found, that in the
event of the failure of his mercantile project,
the road was open for pursuing his study of the
arts, with increased advantages.
The number of his drawings and pictures ex
ecuted before his first voyage to Europe, and
before he had received any instruction other
than was to be obtained from books, was sixty-
eight. Colonel Trumbull embarked at New London
about the middle of May, 1780, on board the
French ship La Negresse, of twenty-eight guns,
bound to Nantes.
The passage was a pleasant one; they met
neither enemy nor accident, and in about five
weeks they approached the coast of France.
As the ship stood across the bay towards the
entrance of the Loire, and approached the land,
Colonel Trumbull was very much struck with
the total dissimilitude to the shores of America :
there, all was now, here every thing bore marks
of age ; the coast was lofty, the very rocks
looked old ; and the first distinct object was a
large convent, whose heavy walls seemed gray
with age, and were surrounded by a noble grove
of chestnut-trees, apparently coeval with the
building. On entering the city of Nantes, every thing
was new, — a new style of architecture — a sea
port of great bustle and activity — and a people

whose appearance, manners, and language were
entirely strange. Colonel Trumbull remained
but two or three days at Nantes, and then set
out for Paris, en poste. Shortly after his arrival
at Paris, he received information that Charleston
in South Carolina had been taken, and that the
British were overrunning the Southern States,
almost without opposition.
This news was fatal to his commercial project,
for his funds consisted in public securities of
Congress, the value of which was annihilated by
adversity. He therefore remained but a short
time in Paris, where he knew few except Dr.
Franklin, and his son Temple Franklin ; John
Adams, and his son John Q., then a boy at
school, of fourteen ; and Mr. Strange, the emi
nent engraver, and his lady.
Having obtained a letter of introduction to
Mr. West, from Dr. Franklin, Trumbull set off
for London. Immediately after his arrival, he
gave Mr. Temple notice of it; and through him
the secretary of state received information of
Trumbull's residence.
Colonel Trumbull presented the letter of Dr.
Franklin to Mr. West, and was of course most
kindly received. He remained with Mr. West
until the 15th of November, 1780, when news
arrived in London of the treason of General
Arnold, and the death of Major Andr6. A
warrant was immediately issued for Trumbull's
arrest, which was put in execution, and he was
confined in Tothill-fields Bridewell, where, al
though safely guarded, he was treated with
marked civility and respect.
The moment Mr. West heard of the arrest of
Colonel Trumbull, he hurried to Buckingham
House, asked an audience of the king, and was
admitted. He stated to the king in what man
ner Trumbull had been employed during his
residence in London, and requested that he
might be released. This request, however, the
king refused, urging that he was in the hands of
the law, and must abide the result; but he
pledged his royal promise that in the worst pos
sible event of the law, his life should be safe.
Colonel Trumbull remained in prison till June,
1781, when he was released by an order from
the king, on condition that he would leave the
kingdom in thirty days, and not return till after

Chap. VIL]

DOCUMENT.

573

peace was restored. He remained in London
some days after his release, and then determined
to return to America by the shortest route,
Amsterdam. He embarked for America in the
early part of August, on board the frigate South
Carolina, at Amsterdam ; but unfortunately a
heavy gale sprang up, and the vessel was obliged
to steer for the port of Corunna in Spain, where
Trumbull remained till December, when he em
barked on board the Cicero, for America, where
he arrived early in January. Shortly after his
return to America he was seized with a danger
ous illness, which confined him to his bed for
several months. As soon as he had recovered
sufficient strength, he engaged in a contract
with his brother for the supply of the army.
This duty brought him into frequent intercourse
with his early friend General Washington, by
whom he was kindly received.
As soon as he received the news of the signing
of the preliminaries of peace, he determined to
return to London to resume his study of the
arts, and accordingly, closing all other business,
he embarked in December, 1783, at Portsmouth,
New Hampshire, for London.
He arrived in London, 1784, and presented
himself immediately to Mr. West, who received
him most cordially. His studies with Mr. West,
and at the academy, were resumed with ardor.
In the summer of 1785, he began to meditate
seriously the subjects of national history — the
events of the Revolution, which were afterwards
the great objects of his professional life. The
death of General Warren at the battle of Bunker
Hill, and of General Montgomery at the attack
on Quebec, were first decided upon as being the
earliest important events, in point of time ; and
Colonel Trumbull not only regarded them as
highly interesting passages of history, but felt
that, in painting them, he would be paying a
just tribute of gratitude to the memory of emi
nent men, who had given their fives for their
country. Mr. West witnessed the progress of these two
pictures with interest, and strongly encouraged
Colonel Trumbull to persevere in the work of
the history of the American Revolution, which
he had thus commenced.
About this time Trumbull became acquainted
Voi. IL— 73

with Mr. Jefferson, then minister of the United
States in Paris, whom political duties had called
to London. He encouraged Trumbull to perse
vere in his pursuit, and kindly invited him to
come to Paris, and, during his stay, to make his
house his home. Trumbull's two paintings met
his warm approbation.
Mr. Jefferson's kind invitation was received
by Colonel Trumbull with pleasure, and during
his stay at Paris he commenced the composition
of the Declaration of Independence, in which he
was assisted by Mr. Jefferson with information
and advice. His paintings above mentioned
procured him an introduction to all the princi
pal artists of France. In September and Oc
tober, 1786, Colonel Trumbull made a tour
through Germany, visiting all the works of art,
and returned to London in November, his brain
half turned by the attention which had been
paid to his paintings in Paris, and by the multi
tude of fine things which he had seen.
He immediately resumed his labors on Ameri
can subjects, especially the Declaration of Inde
pendence. He also made various studies for
the Surrender of Lord Cornwallis ; but in this
he found considerable difficulty. Some progress
was also made in the composition of some of
the other subjects, especially of the battles of
Trenton and Princeton.
In May, 1787, having heard from Mr. Poggi
(an eminent Italian artist) the story of the
Sortie from Gibraltar, he painted it. This
painting elicited the praise and commendation
of all who viewed it. It was, in the opinion of
the celebrated connoisseur, Horace Walpole,
afterwards Lord Orford, " the finest picture he
had ever seen, painted on the northern side of
the Alps."
In the autumn of 1787, Colonel Trumbull
again visited Paris, where he painted Mr. Jeffer
son in the Declaration of Independence, and
the French officers in the Surrender of Lord
Cornwallis. He again visited Paris in 1789, and
witnessed the first outbreaks of the French revo
lution and the destruction of the Bastile. Dur
ing his stay in Paris, he had an important
conversation with the Marquis de Lafayette,
which, by the wish of the latter, he reported to
the president of the United States.

574

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book. VI.

Soon after this conversation Colonel Trumbull
returned to London ; and Mr. Jefferson having
obtained leave of absence for a few months,, they
both embarked for the United States in different
ships — Trumbull for New York, Jefferson for
Norfolk in Virginia. Colonel Trumbull arrived
in New York on the 26th of November, 1789.
He found the government of the United States
organized under the new constitution, with Gen
eral Washington as president. Trumbull lost
no time in communicating to Washington the
state of political affairs, and the prospects of
France, as explained to him by Lafayette ; and
having done this, he proceeded immediately
to visit his family and friends in Connecticut.
His father died in 1785, at the age of seventy-
five years. His brother, and his friend Colonel
Wadsworth of Hartford, were members of the
House of Representatives in Congress ; and with
them he returned to New York to pursue his
work of the Revolution. While in the city he ob
tained many portraits for the Declaration of In
dependence, Surrender of Lord Cornwallis, and
of General Washington in the battles of Trenton
and Princeton. In April, 1790, he opened his
subscription list for the engravings from his first
two pictures of Bunker Hill and Quebec, which
had been contracted for with Mr. Muller, of
Stutgard in Germany, and Mr. Clements of Den
mark. He obtained the names of the president,
vice-president, many of the senators, and of
many of the principal citizens of New York.
In May he went to Philadelphia, but in July
was again in New York, and painted for the
city a full-length portrait of General Washing
ton. In February of the following year he was
at Charleston, S. O, for the purpose of obtaining
portraits. In the following June he returned to
Connecticut, and painted the portrait of General
George Clinton. In 1792 he visited Philadel
phia, and painted a portrait of General Wash
ington for the city of Charleston, S. C.
In May, 1794, he embarked with Mr. Jay for
Great Britain as his private secretary. When
his duty of secretary was ended, he proceeded
to Stutgard to examine the progress of his en
graving of Bunker Hill. In August, 1796, he
returned to London, where he received, through
Mr. King, from Mr. Pickering, secretary of

state of the United States, a commission and in
structions, appointing him an agent for the relief
and recovery of American seamen impressed by
Great Britain ; and before he had time to return
an answer, he received notice from the com
missioners, who had been appointed by the two
nations to carry into execution the seventh arti
cle of the treaty negotiated by Mr. Jay, that
they had appointed him the fifth commissioner.
The importance of the latter situation left no
room for hesitation as to accepting it : the other
duty he declined accepting. His duties as com
missioner he faithfully performed ; and when
they adjourned to meet on the 1st of November,
1797, he took a journey to Stutgard for the pur
pose of procuring the engraving of Bunker Hill,
which was then completed. Having received
his picture and copper-plate from Mr. Muller,
and obtained passports to Paris, he set off from
Stutgard, and arrived in Paris about the middle
of October. The duties of his commission re
quired his presence in London the first of No
vember. In Paris, however, he met with diffi
culties in consequence of the revolution, which
prevented his reaching London until the 2d of
November. The business of the commission
was not concluded till the spring of 1 804. As
soon as the commission was dissolved, Colonel
Trumbull took passage on board a vessel bound
to New York. The passage was a boisterous
one ; the vessel did not reach New York until
the 27th of June, having had a passage of sixty-
three days.
Trumbull now established himself in New
York as a portrait-painter, and met with consid
erable success. In 1807 he wrote a criticism,
ridiculing President Jefferson's project of naval
defence by gunboats.
In December, 1808, he again embarked for
London, where he arrived on the 7th of Janu
ary, 1809. He was kindly received by Mr.
West, and resumed his profession, which he con
tinued until the early part of 1810, when, finding
that his receipts were not equal to his expenses,
and that he was compelled to borrow, he de
termined to return to America. In this, how
ever, he was disappointed, for the declaration of
war in 1812 put an end to all mutual intercourse
between the two countries. He was, in conse-

Chap. VTL]

DOCUMENT.

575

quence, detained in England till the end of the
war, and obliged to run in debt for the means of
subsistence. Peace between the two countries being re
stored, he, in the latter part of 1815, returned
to America, and resumed the practice of his
profession in New York. In the early part of
the following year, having been informed that
Baltimore had resolved to have pictures of the
late successful defence, he offered proposals for
painting them. The project was however aban
doned, on account of the expense that would
be incurred.
Trumbull was now advised to go to Washing
ton, and there offer his great but long-suspended
project of national paintings of subjects from the
Revolution. Congress being in session, the visit
was made, and the result was, that a contract
was made for four paintings, at a price of eight
thousand dollars for each. The paintings were
the Declaration of Independence, Surrender of
Lord Cornwallis, Surrender of General Bur
goyne, and the Resignation by General Wash
ington of his Commission to Congress.
The last picture was scarcely finished when he
had the misfortune to lose his wife (April, 1824),
who had been the faithful and beloved compan
ion of all the vicissitudes of the last twenty-four
years. His contract with the government being hon
orably fulfilled, and his debts paid, Trumbull
found himself, at the age of threescore and ten
years, about to begin the world anew. His best
friend, his wife, was removed from him, and his
having no child to soothe his declining years,
brought upon him a sense of loneliness.
His sight, however, was good — his hand
steady. " Why then," said he, " shall I sink
down into premature imbecility ?"
He therefore resolved to begin a new series
of paintings, of a somewhat smaller size than
those in the capitol ; but he was still in pecu

niary difficulties, being reduced to the necessity
of disposing piecemeal of his furniture, plate,
&c. From this state of embarrassment he was
at length relieved, by an arrangement which he
made with the corporation of Yale College in
the month of December, 1831, and by which he
bestowed upon this institution his unsold paint
ings, in exchange for an annuity of one thou
sand dollars for the remainder of his life.
These paintings are deposited for exhibition in
the " Trumbull Gallery" in New Haven. The
most remarkable among them are : The Battle
of Bunker Hill ; The Death of General Mont
gomery at Quebec; The Declaration of Inde
pendence ; The Battle of Trenton ; The Battle
of Princeton ; The Surrender of General Bur
goyne ; Surrender of General Cornwallis ; Wash
ington Resigning his Commission ; Our Saviour
with little Children ; The Woman accused of
Adultery ; Peter the Great at Narva, &c. Col
onel Trumbull, during the later years of his life,
resided at New Haven. His death took place
in the city of New York, on the 10th of No
vember, 1843, in the eighty-eighth year of his
age. Colonel Trumbull may be considered one of
the most interesting among the many remarka
ble characters called into action and developed
by our Revolutionary War. All that we know
of him tends to raise him in our estimation as a
soldier, a gentleman, and an artist. When ac
cidentally, as he thought, but providentially as
the event proved, he was excluded from the
army, he deemed it a great misfortune, but it
forced upon him the cultivation of his art, and
made him the painter of the Revolution. His
noble historical paintings are the most precious
relics of that heroic age which the nation pos
sesses. They are justly prized above all price ;
and the latest posterity will rejoice that Trum
bull laid down the sword to take up the pallet
and pencil.

CHAPTER YIII.
1794.
WASHINGTON QUELLS THE WESTEEN INS UBEECTION.
Genet's operations against Florida and Louisiana. — His recall. — Fauchet succeeds him. — Kecall of Gouverneur
Morris, and appointment of James Monroe as minister to France. — Discontent of the Kentuckians respecting the
free navigation of the Mississippi. — Their remonstrance. — Answer of Congress. — Projected expedition against
New Orleans. — Action of the government — Wayne posted at Fort Massac to intercept the expedition. — Wayne's
operations against the Indians. — Conduct of the governor of Upper Canada. — British post established on the
Miami of the lakes. — Advance of Wayne. — Battle of the Miami and defeat of the Indians. — Good effects of this
victory. — Eesistance to the laws in western Pennsylvania. — Attack on the marshal of the United States ; — On the
Inspector. — These officers driven out of the district. — The insurgents rob the mail, and banish certain friends
of order from Pittsburg. — Washington receives intelligence of these proceedings, and prepares to call out the
militia to suppress the insurrection by force of arms.— Cabinet council called. — Force of the insurgents. —
Washington calls on four States for militia. — Commissioners sent to treat with the insurgents. — Unsuccessful. —
Washington issues a proclamation expressing his determination to quell the insurrection. — The army formed
in two divisions. — Washington inspects the army. — The army marches into the disturbed districts, and restores
order without the effusion of blood. — Washington's views respecting the insurrection, as given in his letter to
lay. — His graphic account of the volunteers. — Effect of the suppression of the insurrection. — Its connection with
the democratic clubs.

While Congress was in session, sev
eral important matters had claimed the
consideration of "Washington, to which
we will now call the reader's attention.
It will be recollected, that a request
of the executive for the recall of Mr.
Genet had been transmitted to the
French government. During the time
which elapsed before an answer could
be returned, Genet's proceedings had
been such as to call for all the pru
dence, foresight, and moderation of
Washington. In that spirit of conciliation, which
adopts the least irritating means for
effecting its objects, Washington had
resolved to bear with the insults, the

resistance, and the open defiance of
Genet, until his appeal to the friend
ship and the policy of the French re
public should be fairly tried. Early
in January, this resolution was shaken
by fresh proofs of the perseverance of
that minister in a line of conduct not
to be tolerated by a nation which has
not surrendered all pretensions to self-
government. Genet had meditated
and deliberately planned two expedi
tions, to be carried on from the terri
tories of the United States against the
dominions of Spain ; and had, as min
ister of the French republic, granted
commissions to citizens of the United
States, who were privately recruiting

Chap. VTIL]

GENET'S OPERATIONS AGAINST FLORIDA.

577

troops for the proposed service. The
first was destined against Florida, and
the second against Louisiana. The de
tail of the plans had been settled.
The pay, rations, clothing, plunder,
and division of the conquered lands,
to be allotted to the military, and
the proportion of the acquisitions to
be reserved to the republic of France,
were arranged. The troops destined
to act against Florida were to be raised
in the three southern States, were to
rendezvous in Georgia, were to be aid
ed by a body of Indians, and were to
co-operate with the French fleet, should
one arrive on the coast. This scheme
had been the subject of a correspond
ence between the executive and Genet,
but was in full progress in the prece
ding December, when, by the vigilance
of the legislature of South Carolina, it
was more particularly developed, and
some of the principal agents were ar
rested. About the same time, intelligence
less authentic, but wearing every cir
cumstance of probability, was received,
stating that the expedition against
Louisiana, which was to be carried on
down the Ohio from Kentucky, was in
equal maturity.
This intelligence seemed to render a
further forbearance incompatible with
the dignity of the United States. The
question of superseding the diplomatic
functions of Genet, and depriving him
of the privileges attached to that char
acter, was brought before the cabinet ;
and a message to Congress was pre

pared, communicating these transac
tions, and avowing a determination to
adopt that measure, unless one or the
other house should signify the opinion
that it was not advisable so to do,
when the business was arrested by re
ceiving a letter from Mr. Morris, an
nouncing, officially, the recall of this
rash minister.
Mr. Fauchet, the successor of Genet,
arrived in February, and brought with
him strong assurances that his govern
ment totally disapproved the conduct
of his predecessor. He avowed a de
termination to avoid whatever might
be offensive to those to whom he was
deputed, and a wish to carry into full
effect the friendly dispositions of his
nation towards the United States. For
some time, his actions were in the spirit
of these professions.
Not long after the arrival of Mr.
Fauchet, the executive government of
France requested the recall of Gouver
neur Morris. With this request Wash
ington, as we have already seen, imme
diately complied ; and James Monroe
was appointed to succeed him.
The discontents which had been long
fomented in the western country, had
assumed a serious and alarming appear
ance. A remonstrance to the president and
Congress of the United States from the
inhabitants of Kentucky, respecting the
navigation of the Mississippi, was laid
before the executive, and each branch
of the legislature. The style of this
paper accorded well with the instruc-

578

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

tions under which it had been pre
pared. It demanded the free naviga
tion of the Mississippi as a right, and
arraigned the government for not hav
ing secured its enjoyment. The paper
was submitted to both houses of Con
gress. In the Senate the subject was re
ferred to a committee, who reported,
"that in the negotiation now carrying
on at Madrid between the United
States and Spain, the right of the
former to the free navigation of the
Mississippi is well asserted and demon
strated, and their claim to its enjoy
ment is pursued with all the assiduity
and firmness which the magnitude of
tne subject demands; and will doubt
less continue to be so pursued until the
object shall be obtained, or adverse
circumstances shall render the further
progress of the negotiation impractica
ble. That in the present state of the
business, it would be improper for Con
gress to interfere. But in order to sat
isfy the citizens of the United States
more immediately interested in the
event of this negotiation, that the
United States have uniformly asserted
their right to the free use of the navi
gation of the river Mississippi, and
have employed and will continue to
pursue such measures as are best adapt
ed to obtain the enjoyment of this im
portant territorial right, the committee
recommend that it be resolved by the
Senate —
"That the president of the United
States be, and he hereby is requested

IT94.

to cause to be communicated to the ex
ecutive of the State of Kentucky, such
part of the existing negotia
tion between the United States
and Spain relative to this subject, as
he may deem advisable and consist
ent with the course of the negotia
tion." In the House of Representatives also,
a resolution was passed, expressing the
conviction of the House, that the ex
ecutive was urging the claim of the
United States to the navigation of the
Mississippi, in the manner most likely
to prove successful.
This answer was not satisfactory to
the Kentuckians. Later developments
showed that they had a different object
in view from that of obtaining the free
navigation of the Mississippi by nego
tiation. In October, 1793, it was alleged by
the Spanish commissioners, that four
Frenchmen had left Philadelphia, em
powered by the minister of the French
republic to prepare an expedition, in
Kentucky, against New Orleans. This
fact was immediately communicated by
Mr. Jefferson to the governor of that
State, with a request that he would
use those means of prevention which
the law enabled him to employ. This
letter was accompanied by one from
the secretary of war, conveying the
request of the president, that, if pre
ventive means should fail, effectual mil
itary force should then be employed
to arrest the expedition; and General
Wayne was ordered to hold a body

Chap. YHI.] PROJECTED EXPEDITION AGAINST NEW ORLEANS.

579

of troops at the disposal of the gov
ernor, should he find the militia insuf
ficient for his purpose.
The governor had already received
information that a citizen of Kentucky
was in possession of a commission ap
pointing him commander-in-chief of the
proposed expedition ; and that the
Frenchmen alluded to in the letter of
Mr. Jefferson, had arrived, and, far
from affecting concealment, declared
that they only waited for money, which
they expected soon to receive, in order
to commence their operations.
The governor, however, in a letter,
containing very singular views of his
duty in the affair, declined to interfere
with the proposed expedition.
Upon the receipt of this extraordi
nary letter, Washington directed Gen
eral Wayne to establish a military post
at Fort Massac, on the Ohio, for the
purpose of stopping by force, if peace
ful means should fail, any body of
armed men who should be proceeding
down that river.
This precaution appears to have been
necessary. The preparations for the
expedition were, for some time, carried
on with considerable activity ; and
there is reason to believe that it was
not absolutely relinquished until the
war ceased between France and Spain.
It will be recollected that, in the
preceding year, the attempt to treat
with the hostile Indians had suspended
the operations of General Wayne until
the season for action had nearly passed
away. After the total failure of nego

tiation, the campaign was opened with
as much vigor as a prudent attention
to circumstances would permit.
The Indians had expected an at
tempt upon their villages, and had
collected in full force, with the appar
ent determination of risking a battle
in their defence. A battle was de
sired by the American general; but
the consequences of another defeat
were too serious to warrant him in
putting more to hazard by precipitate
movements, than the circumstances of
the war required. The negotiations
with the Indians were not terminated
till September, and it was then too late
to complete the preparations which
would enable General Wayne to ac
complish his object. He, therefore,
contented himself with collecting his
army and penetrating about six miles
in advance of Fort Jefferson, where he
established himself for the winter, in a
camp called Greensville. After forti
fying his camp, he took possession of
the ground on which the Americans
had been defeated in 1791, where he
erected Fort Recovery. These posi
tions afforded considerable protection
to the frontiers, and facilitated the
opening of the ensuing campaign.
Seeing only the dark side of every
measure adopted by the government,
and not disinclined to militia expedi
tions made at the expense of the
United States, the people of Kentucky
loudly charged the president with a
total disregard of their safety, pro
nounced the continental troops entirely

580

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VL

useless, declared that the Indians should
be kept in awe alone by the militia, and
insisted that the power should be de
posited with some person in their State
to call them out at his discretion, at the
charge of the United States.
Meanwhile, some steps were taken
by the governor of Upper Canada,
which were well calculated to increase
suspicions respecting the dispositions of
Great Britain.
It was believed by Washington, not
without cause, that the cabinet of Lon
don was disposed to avail itself of the
non-execution of that article of the
treaty of peace which stipulates for
the payment of debts, to justify a per
manent detention of the posts on the
southern side of the lakes, and to es
tablish a new boundary line, whereby
those lakes should be entirely compre
hended in Upper Canada. Early in
the spring, a detachment from the gar
rison of Detroit repossessed and forti
fied a position nearly fifty miles south
of that station, on the Miami, a river
which empties into Lake Erie at its
westernmost point.
This movement, and other facts
which strengthened the belief that the
hostile Indians were at least counte
nanced by the English, were the sub
jects of a correspondence between the
secretary of state and Mr. Hammond,
in which crimination was answered by
recrimination, in which a considerable
degree of mutual irritation was dis
played, and in which each supported
his charges against the nation of the

IT 9*.

other, much better than he defended
his own. It did not, however, in any
manner, affect the operations of the
army. The delays inseparable from the
transportation of necessary supplies
through an uninhabited country, in
fested by an active enemy peculiarly
skilled in partisan war, unavoidably
protracted the opening of the cam
paign until near midsummer. Mean
while, several sharp skirmishes took
place, in one of which a few white
men were stated to be mingled with
the Indians.
On the 8th of August, General
Wayne reached the confluence of the
Au Glaize, where he threw up
some works of defence, and pro
tection for magazines. The richest and
most extensive settlements of the west
ern Indians lay about this place.
The mouth of the Au Glaize is dis
tant about thirty miles from the post
occupied by the British, in the vicinity
of which the whole strength of the
enemy, amounting, according to intel
ligence on which General Wayne re
lied, to rather less than two thousand
men, was collected. The continental
legion was not much inferior in num
ber to the Indians ; and a reinforce
ment of about eleven hundred mounted
militia from Kentucky, commanded by
General Scott, gave a decided superi
ority of strength to the army of
Wayne. That the Indians had deter
mined to give him battle was well un
derstood ; and the discipline of his le-

Chap. Vin.]

INDIANS DEFEATED BY WAYNE.

581

gion, the ardor of all his troops, and
the superiority of his numbers, author
ized him confidently to expect a favor
able issue. Yet, in pursuance of that
policy by which the United States had
been uniformly actuated, he deter
mined to make one more effort for the
attainment of peace without bloodshed.
Messengers were dispatched to the
several hostile tribes who were assem
bled in his front, inviting them to ap
point deputies to meet him on his
march, in order to negotiate a lasting
peace. On the 15th of August the American
army advanced down the Miami, with
its right covered by that river ; and on
the 18th, .arrived at the rapids. Here
they halted on the 19th, in order to
erect a temporary work for the pro
tection of the baggage, and to recon
noitre the situation of the enemy.
The Indians were advantageously
posted behind a thick wood, and be
hind the British fort.
At eight in the morning of the 20th,
the American army advanced in col
umns ; the legion with its right flank
covered by the Miami. One brigade
of mounted volunteers, commanded by
General Todd, was on the left ; and
the other, under General Barbee, was
in the rear. A select battalion, com
manded by Major Price, moved in
front of the legion, sufficiently in ad
vance to give timely notice for the
troops to form in case of action.
After marching about five miles,
Major Price received a heavy fire from
Vol. H.— 74

a concealed enemy, and was compelled
to retreat.
The Indians had chosen their ground
with judgment. They had advanced
into the thick wood in front of the
British works which extends several
miles west from the Miami, and had
taken a position, rendered almost inac
cessible to horse by a quantity of fallen
timber which appeared to have been
blown up in a tornado. They were
formed in three lines, within support
ing distance of each other ; and, as is
their custom, with a very extended
front. Their line stretched to the west,
at right angles with the river, about
two miles ; and their immediate effort
was to turn the left flank of the Ameri
can army.
On the discharge of the first rifle,
the legion was formed in two lines, and
the front was ordered to advance with
trailed arms, and rouse the enemy from
his covert at the point of the bayonet ;
then, and not until then, to deliver a
fire, and to press the fugitives too
closely to allow them time to load after
discharging their pieces. Soon per
ceiving the strength of the enemy in
front, and that he was endeavoring to
turn the American left, the general
ordered the second line to support the
first. The legion cavalry, led by Cap
tain Campbell, was directed to pene
trate between the Indians and the river,
where the wood was less thick and en
tangled, in order to charge their left
flank ; and General Scott, at the head
of the mounted volunteers, was directed

582

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

to make a considerable circuit, and to
turn their right flank.
These orders were executed with
spirit and promptitude ; but such was
the impetuosity of the charge made by
the first line of infantry, so entirely
was the enemy broken by it, and so
rapid was the pursuit, that only a small
part of the second line and of the
mounted volunteers could get into ac
tion. In the course of one hour, the
Indians were driven more than two
miles, through thick woods ; when the
pursuit terminated within gun-shot of
the British fort.
General Wayne remained three days
on the banks of the Miami, in front of
the field of battle, during which time
the houses and cornfields above and be
low the fort, some of them within pistol-
shot of it, were reduced to ashes. In
the course of these operations, a corre
spondence took place between General
Wayne and Major Campbell, the com
mandant of the fort, which is stated by
the former in such a manner as to
show, that hostilities between them
were avoided only by the prudent ac
quiescence of the latter in this devasta
tion of property within the range of his
guns.
' On the 28th, the army returned to
Au Glaize by easy marches, destroying
on its route all the villages and corn
within fifty miles of the river.
In this decisive battle, the loss of the
Americans, in killed and wounded,
amounted to one hundred and seven,
including officers. Among the dead

were- Captain Campbell, who command
ed the cavalry, and Lieutenant Towles
of the infantry, both of whom fell in the
first charge. General Wayne bestowed
great and well-merited praise on the
courage and alacrity displayed by every
part of the army.
The hostility of the Indians still
continuing, their whole country was
laid waste, and forts were erected in
the heart of their settlements, to pre
vent their return.
This seasonable victory rescued the
United States from a general war with
all the Indians northwest of the Ohio.
The Six Nations had discovered a rest
less uneasy temper ; and the interposi
tion of the president, to prevent a
settlement which Pennsylvania was
about to make at Presque Isle, seemed
rather to suspend the commencement
of hostilities, than to establish perma-
ment pacific dispositions among those
tribes. The battle of the 20th of Au
gust, however, had an immediate effect ;
and the clouds which had been long
gathering in that quarter, were instantly
dissipated. In the South too, its influence was
felt. In that quarter, the inhabitants
of Georgia and the Indians seemed
equally disposed to war. Scarcely was
the feeble authority of the government
competent to restrain the aggressions
of the former, or the dread of its force
sufficient to repress those of the latter.
In this doubtful state of things, the
effect of a victory could not be incon
siderable.

Chap. VIII.]

WHISKEY RIOTS IN PENNSYLVANIA.

583

About this time, the seditions and
violent resistance to the execution of
the law imposing duties on spirits dis
tilled within the United States, had
advanced to a point in the counties of
Pennsylvania lying west of the Alle
ghany Mountains, which required the
decisive interposition of government.
The laws being openly set at de
fiance, Washington determined to test
their efficiency. Bills of indictment
were found against the perpetrators of
certain outrages, and process was issued
against them, and placed in the hands
of the United States marshal for ex
ecution. The marshal repaired in person to
the country which was the scene of
disorder, for the purpose of serving the
processes. On the 15th of July, while
in the execution of his duty, he was be
set on the road by a body of armed
men, who fired on him, but fortunately
did him no personal injury. At day
break the ensuing morning, a party at
tacked the house of General Nevil, the
inspector ; but he defended himself
resolutely, and obliged the assailants to
retreat. Knowing well that this attack had
been preconcerted, and apprehending
that it would be repeated, he applied
to the militia officers and magistrates of
the county for protection. The answer
was, that, "owing to the too general
combination of the people to oppose the
revenue system, the laws could not be
executed so as to afford him protection ;
that should the posse comitatus be or

dered out to support the civil authori
ty, they would favor the party of the
rioters." On the succeeding day, the insurgents
reassembled to the number of about
five hundred, to renew their attack on
the house of the inspector. That offi
cer, finding that no protection could be
afforded by the civil authority, had ap
plied to the commanding officer at Fort
Pitt, and had obtained a detachment of
eleven men from that garrison, who
were joined by Major Kirkpatrick.
Successful resistance to so great a force
being obviously impracticable, a parley
took place, at which the assailants, after
requiring that the inspector and all his
papers should be delivered up, de
manded that the party in the house
should march out and ground their
arms. This being refused, the parley
terminated, and the assault commenced.
The action lasted until the assailants
set fire to several adjacent buildings,
the heat from which was so intense that
the house could no longer be occupied.
From this cause, and from the appre
hension that the fire would soon be
communicated to the main building,
Major Kirkpatrick and his party sur
rendered themselves.
The marshal and Colonel Pressly Ne
vil were seized on their way to General
Nevil's house, and detained until two
the next morning. The marshal espe
cially was treated with extreme sever
ity. His life was frequently threatened,
and was probably saved by the inter
position of some leading individuals, who

584

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

possessed more humanity, or more pru
dence, than those with whom they were
associated. He could obtain his liberty
only by entering into a solemn engage
ment, which was guaranteed by Colonel
Nevil, to serve no more process on the
western side of the Alleghany Mount
ains. The marshal and inspector having
both retired to Pittsburg, the insurgents
deputed two of their body, one of
whom was a justice of the peace, to de
mand that the former should surrender
all his authority, and that the latter
should resign his office ; threatening, in
case of refusal, to attack the place and
seize their persons. These demands
were not acceded to ; but Pittsburg af
fording no security, these officers es
caped from the danger which threat
ened them by descending the Ohio ;
after which, they found their way, by
a circuitous route, to the seat of govern
ment. The rioters next proceeded to inter
cept the mail, and take out letters from
certain parties in Pittsburg, containing
expressions of disapproval of their pro
ceedings. The writers of these letters
they caused to be banished. They
next held meetings on Braddock's Field
and at Parkinson's Ferry, at which the
determination to resist the laws by force
of arms was openly avowed.
Affidavits attesting this serious state
of things were laid before Washington.
Affairs had now reached a point
which seemed to forbid the continuance
of a temporizing system. The efforts at

conciliation which, for more than three
years, the government had persisted to
make, and the alterations repeatedly
introduced into the act for the purpose
of rendering it less exceptionable, in
stead of diminishing the arrogance of
those who opposed their will to the
sense of the nation, had drawn forth
sentiments indicative of designs much
deeper than the evasion of a single act.
The execution of the laws had at length
been resisted by open force, and a de
termination to persevere in these meas
ures was unequivocally avowed. The
alternative of subduing this resistance
or of submitting to it, was presented to
the government.
The act of Congress which provided
for calling forth the militia " to execute
the laws of the Union, suppress insur
rections, and repel invasions," required,
as a prerequisite to the exercise of this
power, "that an associate justice, or the
judge of the district, should certify that
the laws of the United States were op
posed, or their execution obstructed, by
combinations too powerful to be sup
pressed by the ordinary course of judi
cial proceedings, or by the powers vest
ed in the marshals." In the same act
it was provided, " that if the militia of
the State where such combinations may
happen, shall refuse, or be insufficient,
to suppress the same, the president may
employ the militia of other States."
The evidence which had been trans
mitted to Washington was laid before
one of the associate justices, who gave
the certificate, which enabled the chief

Chap. VHL]

CONFERENCE WITH THE RIOTERS.

585

magistrate to employ the militia in aid
of the civil power.
Washington now called a cabinet to
consider the subject, and the governor
of Pennsylvania was also consulted re
specting it. Randolph, the secretary
of state, and the governor of Pennsyl
vania urged reasons against coercion by
force of arms ; Hamilton, Knox, and
Bradford were in favor of employing
military force.
These members of the cabinet were
also of opinion that policy and human
ity equally dictated the employment of
a force which would render resistance
desperate. The insurgent country con
tained sixteen thousand men able to
bear arms ; and the computation was,
that they could bring seven "thousand
into the field. If the army of the gov
ernment should amount to twelve thou
sand men, it would present an imposing
force which the insurgents would not
venture to meet.
It was impossible that Washington
could hesitate to embrace the latter of
these opinions. That a government in
trusted to him should be trampled un
der foot by a lawless section of the
Union, which set at defiance the will of
the nation, as expressed by its represen
tatives, was an abasement to which
neither his judgment nor his feelings
could submit. He resolved, therefore,
to issue the proclamation which, by
law, was to precede the employment of
force. On the same day a requisition was
made on the governors of New Jersey,

Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia
for their several quotas of militia to
compose an army of twelve thousand
men, who were to be immediately or
ganized, and prepared to march at a
minute's warning. The force was ulti
mately increased to fifteen thousand.
While steps were taking to bring
this force into the field, a last essay
was made to render its employment
unnecessary. Three distinguished and
popular citizens of Pennsylvania were
deputed by the government to be the
bearers of a general amnesty for past
offences, on the sole condition of future
obedience to the laws.
It having been deemed advisable that
the executive of the State should act in
concert with that of the United States,
Governor Mifflin also issued a proclama
tion, and appointed commissioners to
act with those of the general govern
ment. These commissioners were met by a
committee from the convention at Park
inson's Ferry, and the conference re
sulted in a reference of the offer of
amnesty to the people. This reference
only served to demonstrate that, while
a few persons were disposed to sub
mit to the laws, the masses in the dis
turbed districts were determined to
obstruct the re-establishment of civil
authority. On the 25th of September, Wash
ington issued a proclamation, describing
in terms of great energy the obstinate
and perverse spirit with which the leni
ent propositions of the government had

586

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

IT 9*.

been received ; and declaring his fixed
determination, in obedience to the high
and irresistible duty consigned
to him by the constitution, " to
take care that the laws be faithfully
executed," to reduce the refractory to
obedience. The troops of New Jersey and Penn
sylvania were directed to rendezvous at
Bedford, and those of Maryland and
Virginia at Cumberland, on the Poto
mac. The command of the expedition
had been conferred on Governor Lee of
Virginia; and the governors of New
Jersey and Pennsylvania commanded
the militia of their respective States
under him.
Washington, in person, visited each
division of the army ; but, being con
fident that the force employed must
look down all resistance, he left Hamil
ton,* the secretary of the treasury, to
accompany it, and returned himself to
Philadelphia, where the approaching
session of Congress required his pres-
ence.f From Cumberland and Bedford, the
army marched in two divisions into the
country of the insurgents. The great
ness of the force prevented the effusion
of blood. The disaffected did not
venture to assemble in arms. Several
of the leaders, who had refused to give
° See Document at the end of this chapter.
"f General Knox, the secretary of war, accompanied
the army to the expected scene of action. The com
mand in chief was confided to General Henry Lee,
Washington's old friend and companion in the Rev
olutionary War. He was at this time governor of Vir
ginia.

assurances of future submission to the
laws, were seized, and some of them de
tained for legal prosecution.
But although no direct and open op
position was made, the spirit of insur
rection was not subdued. A sour and
malignant temper displayed itself, which
indicated but too plainly that the dis
position to resist had only sunk under
the pressure of the great military force
brought into the country, but would
rise again should that force be with
drawn. It was, therefore, thought ad
visable to station, for the winter, a de
tachment, to be commanded by Major-
general Morgan, in the centre of the
disaffected country.
"Thus," says Marshall, "without shed
ding blood, did the prudent vigor of
the executive terminate an insurrection,
which, at one time, threatened to shake
the government of the United States
to its foundation. That so perverse a
spirit should have been excited in the
bosom of prosperity, without the pres
sure of a single grievance, is among
those political phenomena which occur
not unfrequently in the course of hu
man affairs, and which the statesman
can never safely disregard. When real
ills are felt, there is something positive
and perceptible to which the judgment
may be directed, the actual extent of
which may be ascertained, and the
cause of which may be discerned. But
when the mind, inflamed by supposi
titious dangers, gives full play to the
imagination, and fastens upon some ob
ject with which to disturb itself, the

Chap. VHL]

HIS 'VIEWS OF THE PENNSYLVANIA RIOTS.

587

belief that the danger exists seems to
become a matter of faith, with which
reason combats in vain."
Washington's own view of the insur
rection and its causes, is contained in a
letter to John Jay, then on his mission
to England. " As you have been," he
writes, " and will continue to be, fully
informed by the secretary of state of all
transactions of a public nature, which
relate to, or may have an influence on,
the points of your mission, it would be
unnecessary for me to touch upon any
of them in this letter, were it not for
the presumption that the insurrection
in the western counties of this State
has excited much speculation, and a
variety of opinions abroad, and will be
represented differently according to the
wishes of some and the prejudices of
others, who may exhibit, as an evidence
of what has been predicted, ' that we
are unable to govern ourselves.' Under
this view of the subject, I am happy in
giving it to you as the general opinion,
that this event having happened at the
time it did was fortunate, although it
will be attended with considerable ex
pense. " That the self-created societies, which
have spread themselves over this coun
try, have been laboring incessantly to
sow the seeds of distrust, jealousy, and,
of course, discontent, thereby hoping to
effect some revolution in the govern
ment, is not unknown to you. That
they have been the fomenters of the
western disturbances, admits of no
doubt in the mind of any one who will

examine their conduct; but, fortunate
ly, they precipitated a crisis for which
they were not prepared, and thereby
have unfolded views, which will, I trust,
effectuate their annihilation sooner than
it might otherwise have happened; at
the same time that it has afforded an
occasion for the people of this country
to show their abhorrence of the result,
and their attachment to the constitu
tion and the laws ; for I believe that
five times the number of militia that
was required would have come forward,
if it had been necessary, to support
them. " The spirit which blazed out on this
occasion, as soon as the object was fully
understood, and the lenient measures
of the government were made known
to the people, deserves to be commu
nicated. There are instances of gen
eral officers going at the head of a
single troop, and of light companies ;
of field-officers, when they came to the
place of rendezvous, and found no com
mand for them in that grade, turning
into the ranks and proceeding as pri
vate soldiers, under their own captains ;
and of numbers, possessing the first for
tunes in the country, standing in the
ranks as private men, and marching
day by day with their knapsacks and
haversacks at their backs, sleeping on
straw, with a single blanket, in a sol
dier's tent, during the frosty nights
which we have had, by way of example
to others. Nay, more, many young
Quakers of the first families, character,
and property, not discouraged by the

588

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

elders, have turned into the ranks, and
are marching with the troops.
"These things have terrified the insur
gents, who had no conception that such
a spirit prevailed, but, while the thun
der only rumbled at a distance, were
boasting of their strength, and wishing
for and threatening the militia by
turns; intimating that the arms they
should take from them would soon
become a magazine in their hands.
Their language is much changed, indeed,
but their principles want correction.
" I shall be more prolix in my speech
to Congress on the commencement and
progress of this insurrection than is
usual in such an instrument, or than I
should have been on any other occa
sion ; but as numbers at home and
abroad will hear of the insurrection,
and will read the speech, that may
know nothing of the documents to
which it might refer, I conceived it
would be better to encounter the
charge of prolixity by giving a cur
sory detail of facts, that would show
the prominent features of the thing,
than to let it go naked into the world,
to be dressed up according to the fancy
or inclination of the readers, or the pol
icy of our enemies."
Sentiments similar to these were ex
pressed in a letter to Washington's old
and intimate friend, Edmund Pendle

ton. "The successes of our army to
the westward," he writes, "have al
ready been productive of good conse
quences. They have dispelled a cloud
which lowered very heavily in the
northern hemisphere (the Six Nations);
and, though we have received no direct
advices from General Wayne since No
vember, there is reason to believe that
the Indians with whom we are or were
at war in that quarter, together with
their abettors,* begin, to see things in a
different point of view."
One of the most important effects of
the suppression of the western rebel
lion was the fatal blow it gave to the
democratic societies founded by Genet.
Washington's opinion of these societies
is thus expressed in a letter to one of
his friends : " The real people, occasion
ally assembled in order to express their
sentiments on political subjects, ought
never to be confounded with perma
nent self-appointed societies, usurping
the right to control the constituted
authorities, and to dictate to public
opinion. While the former is entitled
to respect, the latter is incompatible
with all government, and must either
sink into general disesteem, or final
ly overturn the established order of
things."

0 The British on the border.

DOCUMENT ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER YIII.

ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
Alexander Hamilton was born in the Island
of Nevis, in the British West Indies, on the
1 1 th of January, 1151. His ancestry were Scot
tish. He received his education in the Island of
St. Croix, under the superintendence of the Rev.
Dr. Knox, a Presbyterian divine, who gave to
his mind a strong religious bias that never left
it. At an early age he was placed as a clerk in
the counting-house of a Mr. Cruger, a merchant
of St. Croix, in whose service he began to dis
play the wonderful talents which have made his
name so distinguished. At the age of twelve
we find him writing to a schoolfellow : " I con
temn the grovelling condition of a clerk, to
which my fortune condemns me, and would
willingly risk my life, though not my character,
to exalt my station ; I mean to prepare the way
for futurity."
All his leisure moments were devoted to
study, and nothing was omitted that could ex
alt his mind or increase his knowledge. He
wrote an account of the hurricane that swept
over some of the West India Islands, in 1772, so
graphic and elegant as to excite general admira
tion; and, though he had published it anony
mously, his authorship was discovered. His
gratified friends determined to send him to New
York, that he might receive a liberal education.
Arriving at New York in October, 1772, he
studied with Mr. Francis Barber, afterwards
Colonel Barber of the revolutionary army, un
til the close of 1773, when he entered King's,
now Columbia College, New York. A mind
endowed in so extraordinary a manner as was
his, could not refrain from taking an active side
Voi. II. —75

in the great questions of colonial rights then
under discussion. Several anonymous tracts and
elaborate pamphlets proceeded from his pen, in
which he took the broadest ground in the de
fence of the colonists, and urged the policy ol
encouraging domestic manufactures, and the
production, in the South, of cotton, that the
whole continent might be able to clothe itself.
In the course of these publications, he became
involved in a controversy with Dr. Cooper, the
head of the college, and other able logicians, in
which he displayed such great powers, that the
learned doctor held to be absurd the idea that
so young a man as Hamilton could be his oppo
nent. In July, 1774, Hamilton appeared at a
public meeting, held where the Park now is, in
front of the City Hall, New York, and made a
speech characterized by great eloquence and
force. He was then seventeen years of age.
In the following year, while still at college, he
joined a volunteer corps of militia in New York,
and studied and reduced to practice the details
of military tactics. At the same time he was
busily engaged in investigating the several points
of political science relative to commerce, trade,
and finance.
On the 14th of March, 1776, he was appointed
captain of a provincial company of artillery, in
New York city, and in that rank he was soon
in active service. He brought up the rear in
the retreat of the army from Long Island, and
succeeded in attracting the notice and esteem of
Washington at the time of the battle of White
Plains, in October of that year. Unflinching in
the cause, and active in his duty, he remained
at the head of his company during the retreat
through the Jerseys, at Trenton and at Prince-

590

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

ton. On the 1st of March, 1777, he was made
aid-de-camp to General Washington, with the
rank of lieutenant-colonel ; and he continued to
be a member of the family of the commander-
in-chief until the year 1781. General Washing
ton called him his "principal and most confi
dential aid." In that station he had every
opportunity of making known his talents and
accomplishments. His knowledge of the French
language, joined to his kindness and his desire
to be of use to them, won upon the French offi
cers in the service of our country, and, among
others, Lafayette and Steuben became strongly
attached to him. The confidence and esteem of
the latter officer enabled Colonel Hamilton to
become fully acquainted with his merits, and he
therefore recommended him to General Wash
ington as the most suitable person for the im
portant office of inspector-general.
In November, 1777, Colonel Hamilton was
sent to Albany, to obtain a reinforcement of
three brigades from General Gates for the army
opposed to General Howe in Philadelphia, and
he succeeded in getting two of the three with
out displaying his absolute authority to Gates,
who showed much reluctance to complying with
the requisition. By the advice of Colonel Ham
ilton the battle of Monmouth M'as resolved upon,
contrary to the opinion of the majority of a
council of war ; and the young soldier displayed
the greatest gallantry in the battle, fighting un
der the orders of Lafayette. In October, 1780,
he earnestly recommended the appointment of
General Greene to the command of the Southern
army, as a general "whose genius," he said,
" carried in it all the resources of war." When
he retired from the family of General Washing
ton, he still retained his rank in the army, and
was exceedingly desirous to obtain a separate
command in some light corps in the army. He
was gratified, after some time, with the com
mand of a corps of light infantry, attached to
the division under the command of Lafayette.
He led the night attack upon one of the enemy's
redoubts at Yorktown, which were carried with
a rapidity and bravery only equalled by the
more modern exploits of American arms. The
active service of the army being now ended,
Colonel Hamilton turned his attention to the

profession of the law, fitted himself for its prac
tice with amazing facility, and was admitted, in
1782, to the bar of the Supreme Court of New
York. Although the principal labor of the corre
spondence of the commander-in-chief had fallen
upon Colonel Hamilton while an aid, he had
nevertheless found time to investigate the bur
dens that pressed most heavily upon the colo
nies during the war. The loss of public credit
through the enormous issues of paper currency,
and the consequent inability of the government
and the army to sustain themselves and support
the war, called forth all his energies to find a
means of relief. His letters upon the subject to
Robert Morris, in 1779, produced the formation
of the Bank of Pennsylvania, which, by lending
its aid to the national bank, established also by
the suggestion and according to the plan of
Hamilton, enabled it to retrieve in a measure
the credit of the country, and support the army
till the conclusion of the war.
Colonel Hamilton, in 1780, wrote -a letter to
Mr. Duane, a member of Congress from New
York, on the state of the nation, which is the
most able paper upon the subject that appeared
during the war. In his plan for remedying the
defects exhibited in the letter, he sketched the
outline of our present constitution, almost as it
was afterwards adopted. He was then just
twenty-three years of age. He resumed this
subject in a series of anonymous essays in the
winter of 1781-2, with his usual ability. The
New York legislature elected him to Congress
in 1782, to the proceedings of which body he
speedily gave a new and more vigorous tone.
In all he did, his clear and sound reasoning and
the manly and graceful powers of his mind were
conspicuous. His labors in the public service
were incessant. He was the foremost man of
the New York delegation to the convention for
the formation of the constitution ; his counsels
and almost unanswerable arguments were heard
upon every important point, and, after its adop
tion, he entered the field as its most able de
fender. Of the eighty-five papers published
over the signature of " Publius," and collected
into the two volumes called " The Federalist,"
he wrote more than fifty. The others were the

Chap. VTH.]

DOCUMENT.

591

work of Mr. Madison and Mr. Jay. The fami
liarity with the subject, acquired in preparing
these immortal documents, and his participation
in the proceedings of the convention, enabled
him to bring all the wisdom of the commentator
to aid his eloquence as an orator, when it be
came his duty to defend the constitution in the
New York State convention, assembled to adopt
or reject it.
His triumphant success in managing the fiscal
concerns of the nation, after the formation of
the new government, under President Wash
ington, is too well known to require repetition.
Whenever the name of Washington is men
tioned as the founder of our happy government,
the memory of Hamilton will suggest itself as
its brightest ornament and the firmest pillar of
its support. It was by the advice of Hamilton
that Washington issued his famous proclamation
of neutrality, in April, 1793, which afterwards
formed the ground-work of the foreign policy of
the first president ; and by his advice Mr. Jay
was sent to conclude his famous treaty with
Great Britain, as minister extraordinary, in
1794. Although he had retired from the cabi
net when Mr. Jay's treaty became the subject
of popular discussion, yet he defended its wis
dom and justice in a series of papers over the
signature of Camillus, in the summer of 1795.
Few among American state papers are more
able than these productions.
Colonel Hamilton was again involved in a
political discussion, on the occasion of the ill
treatment received by our government from
the French republic. His essays upon this sub
ject were published under the signature of Titus
Manlius, and suggested the proper course to be
that which was shortly afterwards adopted by
the government. At the recommendation of
Washington, Colonel Hamilton was appointed
inspector-general of the army that was raised in
anticipation of hostilities with France in 1798.
In the winter of 1804, Colonel Aaron Burr
was proposed as a candidate for governor of
the State of New York. At a public meeting,

Colonel Hamilton declared that he considered
Colonel Burr an unsafe and unfit person to be
placed in such an office ; expressions for which
Colonel Burr thought proper to call him to an
account in the next year, after he had been de
feated. Colonel Hamilton, opposed as he was
to the practice of duelling, nevertheless thought
it necessary to meet him in the field. He fell
on the 12th of July, 1804, mourned most sin
cerely by all the inhabitants of the country.
The subsequent mysterious conduct of Colonel
Burr, while it proved the justice of Hamilton's
opinion, produced no effect upon his character,
in comparison with the odium he incurred by
his conduct in the dispute with the lamented
Hamilton. The last years of the life of Colonel Hamilton
were devoted to the practice of the law in New
York, where he enjoyed an overwhelming share
of business. An able author says of him : " He
was a great favorite with the New York mer
chants, and he justly deserved to be so, for he
had uniformly proved himself to be an enlight
ened, intrepid, and persevering friend to the
commercial prosperity of the country. He was
a great master of commercial law, as well as of
the principles of international jurisprudence.
There were no deep recesses of the science
which he did not explore. He would occasion
ally draw from the fountains of the civil law,
and illustrate and enforce the enlightened de
cisions of Mansfield, by the severe judgment of
Emerigon, and the lucid commentaries of Valin.
In short, he conferred dignity and high reputa
tion on the profession, of which he was indis
putably the first of the first rank, by his inde
fatigable industry, his thorough researches, his
logical powers, his solid judgment, his winning
candor, and his matchless eloquence."
The popularity of General Hamilton with the
merchants of New York was not a transient
one. So late as the year 1835, his statue was
placed by them in the Exchange of the great
commercial metropolis, destined, unfortunately,
to be destroyed in the great fire of that year.

CHAPTER IX

1794—1795.
WASHINGTON SIGNS JAT's TREATY.
Meeting of Congress. — Washington's speech. — Answers of the two houses. — Triumph of the opposition party in the
House of Representatives. — Fall of the democratic clubs. — Bills relating to the western insurrection passed. —
Bill for the gradual redemption of the public debt. — Hamilton's report. — His resignation. — Oliver Wolcott ap
pointed to succeed him. — Congress adjourns. — Resignation of General Knox, secretary of war. — Colonel Picker
ing appointed to succeed him. —Jay's treaty received and examined by Washington. — He determines to sign it, if
ratified by the Senate. — His reasons for this course. — He convenes the Senate, who ratify the treaty conditionally.
- — Washington embarrassed by the condition. — News received of the British order in council to seize provisions
destined for French ports in neutral ships. — Washington directs a remonstrance against this order to be pre
pared ; and goes to Mount Vernon. — The treaty published. — Great political excitement. — Public meetings and
remonstrances against Washington's signing the treaty. — Washington's letters to Randolph on the subject. —
His reply to the select-men of Boston. — He returns to Philadelphia, calls a cabinet meeting, and signs the treaty.
— Reasons for this course. — Washington's letter to Knox. — Violent denunciations of the treaty and censures of
.Washington. — He is charged with peculation. — Charge disproved. — Indignation of the people. — Changes in
Washington's cabinet. — Randolph's resignation. — His attack on Washington. — Washington's candor and mag
nanimity towards him. — Colonel Pickering appointed secretary of state. — Death of Bradford, attorney-general. —
Charles Lee succeeds him. — Wayne's treaty with the Indians. — Treaty with Spain. — Treaty with Algiers. —
Washington visits Mount Vernon.

Congress had adjourned to meet on
the 4th of November; but a quorum
of the Senate was not present
until the 10th. Washington
addressed both houses of Congress in a
longer speech than usual, giving, ac
cording to the intention he had ex
pressed in his letter to Mr. Jay, already
quoted, a particular view of the insur
rection in Pennsylvania, and the meas
ures which he had taken in order to
suppress it.
As commander-in-chief of the militia
when called into actual service, he had,
he said, visited the places of general
rendezvous, to obtain more correct in

formation, and to direct a plan for
ulterior movements. Had there been
reason for supposing that the laws
were secure from obstruction, " he
should have caught with avidity at
the opportunity of restoring the militia
to their families and homes. But suc
ceeding intelligence had tended to
manifest the necessity of what had
been done, it being now confessed by
those who were not inclined to ex
aggerate the ill-conduct of the insur
gents, that their malevolence was not
pointed merely to a particular law ; but
that a spirit inimical to all order had
actuated many of the offenders.

Chap. IX.]

HIS ADDRESS TO CONGRESS.

593

After bestowing a high encomium
on the alacrity and promptitude with
which persons in every station had
come forward to assert the dignity of
the laws, thereby furnishing an ad
ditional proof that they understood the
true principles of government and lib
erty, and felt the value of their insepa
rable union, he added :
" To every description indeed of
citizens, let praise be given. But let
them persevere in their affectionate
vigilance over that precious depository
of American happiness — the constitu
tion of the United States. And when,
in the calm moments of reflection, they
shall have retraced the origin and pro
gress of the insurrection, let them de
termine whether it has not been fo
mented by combinations of men, who
— careless of consequences, and disre
garding the unerring truth, that those
who rouse cannot always appease a civil
convulsion — have disseminated, from an
ignorance or perversion of facts, sus
picions, jealousies, and accusations of
the whole government."
Washington could not omit this fair
occasion, once more to press on Con
gress a subject which had always been
near his heart. After mentioning the
defectiveness of the existing system, he
said: " The devising and establishing a
well-regulated militia, would be a gen
uine source of legislative honor, and a
perfect title to public gratitude. I
therefore entertain a hope, that the
present session will not pass without

carrying to its full energy the power of
organizing, arming, and disciplining the
militia ; and thus providing, in the lan
guage of the constitution, for calling
them forth to execute the laws of the
Union, suppress insurrections, and repel
invasions." After mentioning the intelligence
from the army under the command of
General Wayne, and the state of Indian
affairs, he again called the attention of
the House of Bepresentatives to a sub
ject scarcely less interesting than a sys
tem of defence against external and
internal violence.
" The time," he said, " which has
elapsed since the commencement of our
fiscal measures, has developed our pe
cuniary resources, so as to open the way
for a definitive plan for the redemption
of the public debt. It is believed that
the result is such as to encourage Con
gress to consummate this work with
out delay. Nothing can more promote
the permanent welfare of the Union,
and nothing would be more grateful
to our constituents. Indeed, whatever
is unfinished of our system of public
credit, cannot be benefited by procras
tination ; and, as far as may be practi
cable, we ought to place that credit on
grounds which cannot be disturbed,
and to prevent that progressive accu
mulation of debt which must ultimately
endanger all governments."
In alluding to the intercourse of the
United States with foreign nations, he
said : " It may not be unseasonable to
announce, that my policy in our foreign

594

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI

transactions has been to cultivate peace
with all the world ; to observe treaties
with pure and inviolate faith ; to check
every deviation from the line of im
partiality ; to explain what may have
been misapprehended ; and correct
what may have been injurious to any
nation ; and having thus acquired the
right, to lose no time in acquiring the
ability, to insist upon justice being
done to ourselves."
In the Senate an answer was re
ported, which contained the following
clause :
"Our anxiety, arising from the li
centious and open resistance to the
laws in the western counties of Penn
sylvania, has been increased by the
proceedings of certain self-created so
cieties relative to the laws and admin
istration of the government ; proceed
ings, in our apprehension, founded in
political error, calculated, if not in
tended, to disorganize our government,
and which, by inspiring delusive hopes
of support, have been instrumental in
misleading our fellow-citizens in the
scene of insurrection."
The address proceeded to express
the most decided approbation of the
conduct of Washington in relation to
the insurgents ; and, after noticing the
different parts of the speech, concluded
with saying :
"At a period so momentous in the
affairs of nations, the temperate, just,
and firm policy that you have pursued
in respect to foreign powers, has been
eminently calculated to promote the

great and essential interest of our coun
try, and has created the fairest title to
the public gratitude and thanks."
To this unequivocal approbation of
the policy adopted by the executive
with regard to foreign nations, no ob
jections were made. The clause re
specting democratic societies was se
riously opposed; but the party in fa
vor of the administration had been
strengthened in the Senate by recent
events, and the address reported by
the committee was agreed to without
alteration. In the House, Mr. Madison, Mr.
Sedgwick, and Mr. Scott, were the
committee to report an answer to the
speech of the president. It was silent,
not only with respect to the self-cre
ated societies, but also as to the suc
cess of General Wayne, and the foreign
policy of Washington. His interfer
ence with a favorite system of com
mercial restrictions was not forgotten,
and the mission of John Jay still
rankled in the memory of the repub
licans. No direct censure of the so
cieties, or approbation of the foreign
policy of the president, could be car
ried ; and after an animated debate,
the opposition party triumphed in the
House. This triumph over the administration
revived for a moment the drooping
energies of these turbulent societies;
but it was only for a moment. The
agency ascribed to them by the opin
ion of the public as well as of the
president, in producing an insurrection

Chap. IX.]

OPPOSITION TRIUMPH IN THE HOUSE.

595

which was generally execrated, had
essentially affected them ; and while
languishing under this wound, they re
ceived a deadly blow from a quarter
whence hostility was least expected.
The remnant of the French convention,
rendered desperate by the ferocious des
potism of the Jacobins, and of the san
guinary tyrant who had become their
chief, had at length sought for safety
by confronting danger ; and, succeed
ing in a desperate attempt to bring
Bobespierre to the guillotine, had ter
minated the reign of terror. The co
lossal powers of the clubs fell with that
of their favorite member, and they
sunk into long-merited disgrace. Not
more certain is it that the boldest
streams must disappear, if the foun
tains that fed them be emptied, than
was the dissolution of the democratic
societies in America, when the Jacobin
clubs were denounced in France. As
if their destinies depended on the same
thread, the political death of the former
was the unerring signal for that of the
latter* Notwithstanding the disagreement
between the executive and one branch
of the legislature concerning self-cre
ated societies, and the policy observed
towards foreign nations, the speech of
the president was treated with marked
respect; and the several subjects which
it recommended engaged the immedi
ate attention of Congress. A bill was
passed authorizing the president to sta-
c Marshall.

tion a detachment of militia in the four
western counties of Pennsylvania ; pro
vision was made to compensate those
whose property had been destroyed by
the insurgents, should those who had
committed the injury be unable to re
pair it ; and an appropriation exceed
ing one million one hundred thousand
dollars was made to defray the ex
penses occasioned by the insurrection.
Many of the difficulties which had
occurred in drawing out the militia
were removed, and a bill was intro
duced to give greater energy to the
militia system generally ; but this sub
ject possessed so many intrinsic diffi
culties, that the session passed away
without effecting any thing respect
ing it.
A bill for the gradual redemption of
the national debt was more successful.
The president had repeatedly and ear
nestly recommended to the legislature.
the adoption of measures which might
effect this favorite object; but, although
that party which had been reproached
with a desire to accumulate debt as a
means of subverting the republican sys
tem, had uniformly manifested a disposi
tion to carry this recommendation into
effect, their desire had hitherto been
opposed by obstacles they were unable
to surmount. The party in opposition
to the government, while professing
always a desire to reduce the debt,
took good care to oppose in detail
every proposition having this object
in view. While the subject was under
discussion, Colonel Hamilton, secretary

596

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

of the treasury, addressed a letter to
the House of Bepresentatives, through
their speaker, informing them that he
had digested and prepared a plan on
the basis of the actual revenues, for
the further support of public credit,
which he was ready to communicate.
This comprehensive and valuable re
port was the last official act of Ham
ilton. The penurious provision made for
those who filled the high executive
departments in the American govern
ment, excluded from a long contin
uance in office all those whose fortunes
were moderate, and whose professional
talents placed a decent independence
within their reach. While slandered
as the accumulator of thousands by
illicit means, Hamilton had wasted in
the public service great part of the
property acquired by his previous la
bors, and had found himself compelled
to decide on retiring from his politi
cal station. The accusations brought
against him in the last session of the
second Congress had postponed the ex
ecution of this design, until opportunity
should be afforded for a more full in
vestigation of his official conduct; but
he informed Washington that, on the
close of the session to meet in Decem
ber, 1793, he should resign his situa
tion in the administration. The events
which accumulated about that time,
and which were, he said, in a letter to
Washington, of a nature to render the
continuance of peace in a considerable
degree precarious, deferred his medi

tated retreat. " I do not perceive," he
added, "that I could voluntarily quit
my post at such a juncture, consistently
with considerations either of duty or
character; and therefore, I find myself
reluctantly obliged to defer the offer
of my resignation.
"But if any circumstances should
have taken place in consequence of the
intimation of an intention to resign, or
should otherwise exist, which serve to
render my continuance in office in any
degree inconvenient or ineligible, I beg
leave to assure you, sir, that I should
yield to them with all the readiness
naturally inspired by an impatient de
sire to relinquish a situation, in which,
even a momentary stay is opposed by
the strongest personal and family rea
sons, and could only be produced by a
sense of duty or reputation."
Assurances being given by Washing
ton of the pleasure with which the in
telligence, that he would continue at
his post through the crisis, was received,
he remained in office until the com
mencement of the ensuing year. Im
mediately on his return from the west
ern country, the dangers of domestic
insurrection or foreign war having sub
sided, he gave notice that he should on
the last day of January give in his re
signation. In the esteem and good opinion of
Washington, to whom he was best
known, Hamilton at all times main
tained a high place. While deciding
on the mission to England, and search
ing for a person to whom the interest-

Chap. IX.J

RESIGNATION OF HAMILTON.

597

ing negotiation with that government
should be confided, the mind of the
chief magistrate was directed, among
others, to him. He carried with him
out of office the same cordial esteem for
his character, and respect for his talents,
which had induced his appointment.
The vacant office of secretary of the
treasury was filled by Oliver Wolcott,
of Connecticut, a gentleman of sound
judgment, who was well versed in its
duties. He had served as comptroller
for a considerable time, and in that
situation had been eminently useful to
the head of the department.
The bill for the gradual reduction
of the public debt, on the basis of
Hamilton's plan, was resisted in detail
through nearly the whole session of
Congress ; but by the persevering ex
ertions of the federal party was finally
carried, and the system inaugurated by
Hamilton became a permanent portion
of the financial policy of the coun
try. On the third of March this impor
tant session was ended. Although the
party hostile to the administration had
obtained a small majority in one branch
of the legislature, several circum
stances had concurred to give
great weight to the recommendations
of Washington. Among these may be
reckoned the victory obtained by Gen
eral Wayne, and the suppression of the
western insurrection. In some points,
however, which he had pressed with
earnestness, his sentiments did not pre
vail. One of these was a bill intro-
Vol. H.— 76

1795.

duced into the Senate for preserving
peace with the Indians, by protecting
them from the intrusions and incursions
of the whites.
General Knox, secretary of war, like
Hamilton, was driven from the service
of his country by the scantiness of the
compensation allowed him. He re
signed at the close of the year 1794.
Colonel Pickering, a gentleman who had
filled many important offices through
the war of the Bevolution, who had
discharged several trusts of consider
able confidence under the present gov
ernment, and who at the time was
postmaster-general, was appointed to
succeed him.*
After the rising of Congress, Wash
ington made a short visit to Mount
Vernon. He returned to Philadelphia
about the first of May. Meantime, on
the 7th of March, the treaty of amity,
commerce, and navigation, between the
United States and Great Britain, which
had been signed by the ministers of
the two nations on the 19th of the
preceding November, was received.
From his arrival in London, on the
15th of June, 1794, Mr. Jay had been
assiduously and unremittingly employed
on the arduous duties of his mission.
By a deportment respectful, yet firm,
mingling a decent deference for the
government to which he was deputed,
with a proper regard for the dignity of
his own, this minister avoided those
little asperities which frequently em-
° See Document [A] at the end of this chapter.

598

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.,

barrass measures of great concern, and
smoothed the way to the adoption of
those which were suggested by the real
interests of both nations. Many and
intricate were the points to be dis
cussed. On some of them an agree
ment was found to be impracticable ;
but, at length, a treaty was concluded,
which Mr. Jay declared to be the best
that was attainable, and which he be
lieved it for the interests of the United
States to accept. Indeed, it was scarce
ly possible to contemplate the evidences
of extreme exasperation which were
given in America, and the nature of
the differences which subsisted between
the two countries, without feeling a
conviction that war was inevitable,
should this attempt to adjust those dif
ferences prove unsuccessful.
The constitution had provided, that
all treaties should be ratified by the
Senate, and Washington summoned that
body to meet on Monday, the 8th of
June, in order to take it into consid
eration. In the mean time, Washington
devoted himself to the task of examin
ing its provisions with the utmost care.
It was not, in all respects, what he had
wished and expected. Many points
were omitted which he had desired to
be introduced and settled ; others were
arranged so as to leave room for future
misunderstandings between the two na
tions. But he felt satisfied that Mr.
Jay had obtained the best terms in his
power, and that this treaty was the
best that could have been made un
der all circumstances. Important privi

leges were secured, no great national
advantages had been sacrificed, nothing
detrimental to the national honor had
been admitted, and peace was main
tained. That the rejection of the
treaty would be followed by a calam
itous war, did not admit of a doubt.
In the existing state of Europe, a war
with Great Britain would have in
volved the United States in the long-
continued agitations of Europe, and de
prived them of all the advantages of
neutrality and undisturbed commerce.
Fully aware of all these considerations,
Washington determined that if the
Senate should ratify the treaty, he
would give it the sanction of his sig
nature. On Monday, the 8th of June, the
Senate, in conformity with the sum
mons of the president, convened in the
senate chamber, and the treaty, with
the documents connected with it, were
submitted to their consideration.
On the 24th of June, after a minute
and laborious investigation, the Senate,
by precisely a constitutional majority,
advised and consented to its condition
al ratification.
An insuperable objection existed to
an article regulating the intercourse
with the British West Indies, founded
on a fact which is understood to have
been unknown to Mr. Jay. The inten
tion of the contracting parties was to
admit the direct intercourse between
the United States and those islands,
but not to permit the productions of
the latter to be carried to Europe in

Chap. IX.] UNAUTHORIZED PUBLICATION OF JAY'S TREATY.

>90

the vessels of the former. To give
effect to this intention, the exportation
from the United States of those articles
which were the principal productions
of the islands was to be relinquished.
Among these was cotton. This article,
which a few years before was scarcely
raised in sufficient quantity for domes
tic consumption, was becoming one of
the richest staples of the Southern
States. The Senate being informed of
this fact, advised and consented that
the treaty should be ratified on con
dition that an article be added thereto,
suspending that part of the twelfth
article which related to the intercourse
with the West Indies.
This resolution of the Senate pre
sented difficulties which required con
sideration. Whether they could ad
vise and • consent to an article which
had not been laid before them, and
whether their resolution was to be con
sidered as the final exercise of their
power, were questions not entirely free
from difficulty. Nor was it absolutely
clear that the executive could ratify
the treaty, under the advice of the
Senate, until the suspending article
should be introduced into it. A few
days were employed in the removal
of these doubts, at the expiration of
which, intelligence was received from
Europe which suspended the resolution
the president had formed.
The English newspapers reported
that the British government had re
newed the order in council for seizing
provisions in neutral vessels bound to

French ports. Washington directed
the secretary of state to prepare a
strong memorial to the British govern
ment against this order, and postponed
the signing of the treaty until it should
be ready. In the mean time, his pri
vate affairs required that he 1795.
should visit Mount Vernon, for
which place he set off about the mid
dle of July.
Meanwhile, one of the Virginia sena
tors, S. T. Mason, in violation of the
obligation of secrecy and the evident
demands of propriety, sent a copy of
the treaty to the " Aurora," a violent
partisan paper in Philadelphia. On
the 2d of July it was published, and
spread before the community, without
the authority of the executive, and
without any of the official documents
and correspondence necessary to a fair
appreciation and understanding of its
various provisions.
If, in the existing state of parties
and the embittered feelings which
widely prevailed, the mission of Jay
was censured, and the result of his la
bors condemned in advance, before it
was known at all what the treaty con
tained, the reader can imagine what an
effect must have been produced by the
publication of the treaty in this clan
destine manner. Great Britain was
hated and reviled, and France was al
most adored, by a large and powerful
party in the United States ; and there
were numbers ready, in their blind po
litical fury and excitement, to sacrifice
every thing rather than be on any

600

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

terms of concord with the mother coun
try, and rather than moderate in any
degree their passionate devotion to
France. In the populous cities, meetings of
the people were immediately summon
ed, in order to take into considera
tion, and to express their opinions re
specting the treaty. It may well be
supposed that persons feeling some dis
trust of their capacity to form a correct
judgment on a subject so complex,
would be unwilling to make so hasty a
decision, and consequently be disin
clined to attend such meetings. Many
intelligent men stood aloof, while the
most intemperate assumed, as usual, the
name of the people — pronounced a de
finitive and unqualified condemnation
of every article in the treaty, and, with
the utmost confidence, assigned reasons
for their opinions which, in many in
stances, had only an imaginary exist
ence, and in some were obviously
founded on the strong prejudices which
were entertained with respect to for
eign powers. It is difficult to review
the various resolutions and addresses to
which the occasion gave birth, without
feeling some degree of astonishment,
mingled with humiliation, at perceiving
such proofs of the fallibility of human
reason. The first meeting was held in Boston.
The example of that city was soon fol
lowed by New York, Philadelphia, Bal
timore, and Charleston ; and, as if their
addresses were designed at least as
much for their fellow-citizens as for

their president, while one copy was
transmitted to him, another was com
mitted to the press. The precedent set
by these large cities was followed with
wonderful rapidity throughout the
Union ; and the spirit in which this
system of opposition originated, sustain
ed no diminution of violence in its pro
gress. The party which supported the
administration, however, were not idle,
they held meetings and sent addresses
to Washington, approving his princi
ples of neutrality and peace.
On the 18th of July, at Baltimore,
on his way to Mount Vernon, the presi
dent received the resolutions passed by
the meeting at Boston, which were in
closed to him in a letter from the select
men of that town. The answer to this
letter and to these resolutions, given in
a subsequent page, evinced the firmness
with which he had resolved to meet the
effort that was obviously making to
control the exercise of his constitutional
functions, by giving a promptness and
vigor to the expression of the senti
ments of a party which might impose
it upon the world as the deliberate
judgment of the public.
Addresses to Washington, and reso
lutions of town and country meetings,
were not the only means which were
employed to enlist the American people
against the measure which had been
advised by the Senate. In an immense
number of essays, the treaty was criti
cally examined, and every argument
which might operate on the judgment
or prejudice of the public, was urged in

Chap. IX.]

PRIVATE LETTER TO EDMUND RANDOLPH.

601

the warm and glowing language of pas
sion. To meet these efforts by counter
efforts, was deemed indispensably ne
cessary by the friends of that instru
ment ; and the gazettes of the day are
replete with appeals to the passions
and to the reason of those who are the
ultimate arbiters of every political ques
tion. That the treaty affected the in
terests of France not less than those of
the United States, was, in this memor
able controversy, asserted by the one
party with as much zeal as it was de
nied by the other. These agitations
furnished matter to Washington for
deep reflection and for serious regret;
but they appear not to have shaken the
decision he had formed, or to have
affected his conduct, otherwise than to
induce a still greater degree of circum
spection in the mode of transacting the
delicate business before him. On their
first appearance, therefore, he resolved
to hasten his return to Philadelphia, for
the purpose of considering at that
place, rather than at Mount Vernon,
the memorial against the provision or
der, and the conditional ratification of
the treaty.
The following confidential letters a.re
extremely interesting, as evincing the
precise state of Washington's mind at
this momentous and exciting period :
" To Edmund Randolph, Secretary of State.
' ' Private.
"Mount Vernon, July 29, 1795.
"My dear Sir: — Your private letters
of the 24th and 25th instant have been

received, and you will learn by the
official letter of this date my determina
tion of returning to Philadelphia after
Monday, if nothing in the interim casts
up to render it unnecessary.
" I am excited to this resolution by
the violent and extraordinary proceed
ings which have and are about taking
place in the northern parts of the
Union, and may be expected in the
southern ; because I think that the
Memorial, the Ratification, and the In
structions, which are framing, are of
such vast magnitude as not only to re
quire great individual consideration,
but a solemn conjunct revision. The
latter could not take place if you were
to come here ; nor would there be that
source of information, which is to be
found at, and is continually flowing to,
the seat of government ; and besides,
in the course of deliberation on these
great objects, the examination of official
papers may more than probably be
found essential, which could be re
sorted to at no other place than Phila
delphia. " To leave home so soon will be in
convenient. A month hence it would
have been otherwise ; and it was, as I
hinted to you before I left the city, in
contemplation by me for the purpose of
Mrs. Washington's remaining here till
November, when I intended to come
back for her. But whilst I am in
office, I shall never suffer private con
venience to interfere with what I con
ceive to be my official duty.
" I view the opposition, which the

602

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

treaty is receiving from the meetings in
different parts of the Union, in a very
serious light ; not because there is more
weight in any of the objections, which
are made to it, than was foreseen at
first, for there is none in some of them,
and gross misrepresentations in others ;
nor as it respects myself personally, for
this shall have no influence on my con
duct, — plainly perceiving, and I am ac
cordingly preparing my mind for it, the
obloquy which disappointment and mal
ice are collecting to heap upon me.
But I am alarmed at the effect it may
have on, and the advantage the French
government may be disposed to make
of, the spirit which is at work to cherish
a belief in them, that the treaty is cal
culated to favor Great Britain at their
expense. Whether they believe or dis
believe these tales, the effect it will
have upon the nation will be nearly
the same ; for, whilst they are at war
with that power, or so long as the ani
mosity between the two nations exists,
it will, no matter at whose expense, be
their policy, and it is to be feared will
be their conduct, to prevent us from
being on good terms with Great Brit
ain, or her from deriving any advanta
ges from our trade, which they can
hinder, however much we may be
benefited thereby ourselves. To what
length this policy and interest may
carry them is problematical; but, when
they see the people of this country di
vided, and such a violent opposition
given to the measures of their own
government, pretendedly in their favor,

it may be extremely embarrassing, to
say no more of it.
"To sum the whole up in a few
words, I have never, since I have been
in the administration of the govern
ment, seen a crisis which in my judg
ment has been so pregnant with in
teresting events, nor one from which
more is to be apprehended, whether
viewed on one side or the other.
From New York there is, and I am
told will further be, a counter current ;
but how formidable it may appear, I
know not. If the same does not take
place at Boston and other towns, it will
afford but too strong evidence, that
the opposition is in a manner univer
sal, and would make the ratification
a very serious business indeed. But,
as it respects the French, even coun
ter resolutions would, for the rea
sons I have already mentioned, do
little more than weaken, in a small
degree, the effect the other side would
have. " I have written, and do now inclose
the letter, the draught of which was
approved by the heads of departments,
to the selectmen of the town of Boston;
but if new lights have been had upon
the subject, since it was agreed to, or
if upon reconsideration any alteration
should be deemed necessary, I request
you to detain it until I see you. Let
me also request, that the same attention
may be given to the draught of a letter
to Portsmouth, and the Chamber of
Commerce at New York, as was recom
mended on that occasion. I am, <fcc."

Chap. IX.]

PRIVATE LETTER TO EDMUND RANDOLPH.

603

" To Edmund Randolph, Secretary of State.
"Private.
" Mount Vernon, July 81, 1795.
"My dear Sir: — On Wednesday
evening I sent the packet, now under
cover with this, to the post-office in Al
exandria, to be forwarded next morn
ing at the usual hour, four o'clock, by
the Baltimore mail. But, behold ! when
my letter-bag was brought back from
the office and emptied, I not only got
those which were addressed to me,
among which yours of the 27 th was
one, but those also which I had sent up
the evening before.
" I have to regret this blunder of the
postmaster, on account of the inclosures,
some of which I wished to have got to
your hands without delay, that they
might have undergone the consideration
and acting upon, which were suggested
in the letter accompanying them. On
another account I am not sorry for the
return of the packet, as I resolved
thereupon, and on reading some letters
which I received at the same time, to
wait your acknowledgment of the re
ceipt of jny letter of the 24th instant,
before I would set out ; as I should
thereby be placed on a certainty
whether your journey hither, or mine
to Philadelphia, would, under all cir
cumstances, be deemed most eligible ;
or whether the business could not be
equally well done without either; re
peating now what I did in my letter of
the 24th, that I do not require more
than a day's notice to repair to the seat
of government, and that if you and the

confidential officers with you are not
clear in the measures which are best to
be pursued in the several matters men
tioned in my last, my own opinion is,
and for the reasons there given, that
difficult and intricate or delicate ques
tions had better be settled there, where
the streams of information are continu
ally flowing in, and that I would set
out accordingly.
" To be wise and temperate, as well
as firm, the present crisis most eminent
ly calls for. There is too much reason
to believe, from the pains which have
been taken before, at, and since the ad
vice of the Senate respecting the treaty,
that the prejudices against it are more
extensive than is generally imagined.
This I have lately understood to be
the case in this quarter, from men
who are of no party, but well-disposed
to the present administration. How
should it be otherwise, when no stone
has been left unturned that could im
press on the minds of the people the
most arrant misrepresentation of facts :
that their rights have not only been
neglected, but absolutely sold; that
there are no reciprocal advantages in
the treaty ; that the benefits are all on
the side of Great Britain ; and, what
seems to have had more weight with
them than all the rest, and to have been
most pressed, that the treaty is made
with the design to oppress the French,
in open violation of our treaty with that
nation, and contrary, too, to every prin
ciple of gratitude and sound policy ?
In time, when passion shall have yield-

604

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

ed to sober reason, the current may
possibly turn ; but, in the mean while,
this government, in relation to France
and England, may be compared to a
ship between the rocks of Scylla and
Charybdis. If the treaty is ratified,
the partisans of the French, or rather
of war and confusion, will excite them
to hostile measures, or at least to un
friendly sentiments ; if it is not, there is
no foreseeing all the consequences which
may follow as it respects Great Britain.
" It is not to be inferred from hence
that I am disposed to quit the ground I
have taken, unless circumstances more
imperious than have yet come to my
knowledge should compel it ; for there
is but one straight course, and that is
to seek truth and pursue it steadily.
But these things are mentioned to show
that a close investigation of the subject
is more than ever necessary, and that
they are strong evidences of the neces
sity of the most circumspect conduct in
carrying the determination of govern-
ernment into effect, with prudence as it
respects our own people, and with
every exertion to produce a change for
the better from Great Britain.
"The memorial seems well designed
to answer the end proposed ; and by
the time it is revised and new dressed,
you will probably (either in the resolu
tions, which are or will be handed to
me, or in the newspaper publications,
which you promised to be attentive to)
have seen all the objections against the
treaty which have any real force in
them, and which may be fit subjects for

representation in the memorial, or in
the instructions, or both. But how
much longer the presentation of the
memorial can be delayed without ex
citing unpleasant sensations here, or in
volving serious evils elsewhere, you,
who are at the scene of information
and action, can decide better than I.
In a matter, however, so interesting and
pregnant with consequences as this
treaty, there ought to be no precipita
tion, but, on the contrary, every step
should be explored before it is taken,
and every word weighed before it is
uttered or delivered in writing.
" The form of the ratification requires
more diplomatic experience and legal
knowledge than I possess, or have the
means of acquiring at this place, and
therefore I shall say nothing about it.
I am, <fcc."
The answer to the selectmen of Bos
ton, already referred to, is too charac
teristic to be omitted. It is as follows :
" To the Selectmen of the Town of Boston.
"United States, JulyV&th, 1795.
" Gentlemen : — In every act of my
administration I have sought the hap
piness of my fellow-citizens. My sys
tem for the attainment of this object
has uniformly been to overlook all per
sonal, local, and partial considerations ;
to contemplate the United States as
one great whole ; to consider that sud
den impressions, when erroneous, would
yield to candid reflection ; and to con
sult only the substantial and permanent

Chap. IX.J

LETTER TO THE SELECTMEN OF BOSTON.

605

interests of our country. Nor have I
departed from this line of conduct on
the occasion which has produced the
resolutions contained in your letter of
the 13th instant.
" Without a predilection for my own
judgment, I have weighed with atten
tion every argument which has at any
time been brought into view. But the
constitution is the guide which I can
never abandon. It has assigned to the
president the power of making treaties,
with the advice and consent of the Sen
ate. It was doubtless supposed that
these two branches of government
would combine, without passion and
with the best means of information,
those facts and principles upon which
the success of our foreign relations will
always depend ; that they ought not to
substitute for their own conviction the
opinions of others, or to seek truth
through any channel but that of a tem
perate and well-informed investigation.
" Under this persuasion, I have re
solved on the manner of executing the
duty before me. To the high responsi
bility attached to it, I freely submit ;
and you, gentlemen, are at liberty to
make these sentiments known, as the
ground of my procedure. While I feel
the most lively gratitude for the many
instances of approbation from my coun
try, I can no otherwise deserve it than
by obeying the dictates of my con
science. " With due respect, I am, gentlemen,
your obedient
" George Washington."
Vol. II.— 77

In nearly the same terms Washing
ton replied to other committees and
public bodies, who thought proper to
remonstrate against his exercising the
constitutional right of signing the
treaty. In the afternoon of the 11th of
August, Washington arrived in Phila
delphia ; and on the next day, the
question respecting the immediate rati
fication of the treaty was brought be
fore the cabinet. Bandolph, secretary
of state, maintained, singly, the opinion
that, during the existence of the provi
sion order, and during the war between
Britain and France, this step ought
not to be taken. This opinion, how
ever, did not prevail. The resolution
was adopted to ratify the treaty imme
diately, and to accompany the ratifi
cation with a strong memorial against
the provision order, which should con
vey, in explicit terms, the sense of the
American government on that subject.
By this course, the views of the exec
utive were happily accomplished. The
order was revoked, and the ratifications
of the treaty were exchanged.
Washington was most probably de
termined to adopt this course by the
extreme intemperance with which the
treaty was opposed, and the rapid pro
gress which this violence was apparent
ly making. It was obvious that, unless
this temper could be checked, it would
soon become so extensive, and would
arrive at such a point of fury, as to
threaten dangerous consequences. It
was obviously necessary either to at-

606

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

tempt a diminution of its action, by
rendering its exertions hopeless, and
by giving to the treaty the weight of
his character and influence, or to de
termine ultimately to yield to it. A
species of necessity, therefore, seems to
have been created for abandoning the
idea, if it was ever taken up, of making
the ratification of the treaty depend
ent on the revocation of the provision
order. The soundness of the policy which
urged this decisive measure was proved
by the event. The confidence which
was felt in the judgment and virtue of
Washington induced many, who, swept
away by the popular current, had yield
ed to the common prejudices, to re-ex
amine and discard opinions which had
been too hastily embraced; and many
were called forth, by a desire to sup
port the administration in measures ac
tually adopted, to take a more active
part in the general contest than they
would otherwise have pursued. The
consequence was, that more moderate
opinions respecting the treaty began to
prevail. In a letter from Mount Vernon of
the 20th of September, addressed to
General Knox, who had communicated
to him the change of opinion which
was appearing in the Eastern States,
Washington expressed in warm terms
the pleasure derived from that circum
stance, and added : " Next to a consci
entious discharge of my public duties,
to carry along with me the approba
tion of my constituents, would be the

highest gratification of which my mind
is susceptible. But the latter being
secondary, I cannot make the former
yield to it, unless some criterion more
infallible than partial (if they are not
party) meetings can be discovered as
the touchstone of public sentiment. If
any person on earth could, or the great
Power above would, erect the standard
of infallibility in political opinions, no
being that inhabits this terrestrial
globe would resort to it with more
eagerness than myself, so long as I re
main a servant of the public. But as
I have hitherto found no better guide
than upright intentions and close inves
tigation, I shall adhere to them while
I keep the watch, leaving it to those
who will come after me, to explore new
ways, if they like, or think them bet
ter." If the ratification of the treaty in
creased the number of its open advo
cates, it seemed also to give increased
acrimony to the opposition. Such hold
had Washington taken of the affections
of the people, that even his enemies
had deemed it generally necessary to
preserve, with regard to him, external
marks of decency and respect. Pre
vious to the mission of Mr. Jay, charges
against Washington, though frequently
insinuated, had seldom been directly
made ; and the cover under which the
attacks upon his character were con
ducted, evidenced the caution with
which it was deemed necessary to pro
ceed. That mission visibly affected the
decorum which had been usually ob-

Chap. IX.]

ATTACKS ON THE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON.

607

served towards him ; and the ratifi
cation of the treaty brought sensations
into open view, which had long been
ill concealed. His military and politi
cal character was attacked with equal
violence, and it was averred that he
was totally destitute of merit, either as
a soldier or a statesman. The calum
nies with which he was assailed were
not confined to his public conduct ;
even his qualities as a man were the
subjects of detraction. That he had
violated the constitution in negotiating
a treaty without the previous advice
of the Senate, and in embracing within
that treaty subjects belonging exclu
sively to the legislature, was openly
maintained, for which an impeachment
was publicly suggested ; and that he
had drawn from the treasury for his
private use more than the salary an
nexed to his office, was asserted with
out a blush. This last allegation was
said to be supported by extracts from
the treasury accounts which had been
laid before the legislature, and was
maintained with the most persevering
effrontery. Though Wolcott,* the secretary of
the treasury, denied that the appropri
ations made by the legislature had ever
been exceeded, the atrocious charge was
still confidently repeated ; and the few
who could triumph in any spot which
might tarnish the lustre of Wash
ington's fame, felicitated themselves
on the prospect of obtaining a victory
• See Document [B] at the end of this chapter.

over the reputation of a patriot, to
whose single influence they ascribed
the failure of their political plans.
With the real public, the confidence
felt in the integrity of Washington
remained unshaken ; but so imposing
was the apvjearance of the documents
adduced, as to excite an apprehension
that the transaction might be placed
in a light to show that some indiscre
tion, in which he had not participated,
had been inadvertently committed.
This state of anxious suspense was of
short duration. Hamilton, late secre
tary of the treasury, during whose ad
ministration of the finances this pecula
tion was said to have taken place, came
forward with a full explanation of the
fact. It appeared that Washington
himself had never touched any part
of the compensation annexed to his
office, but that the whole was received
and disbursed by the gentleman who
superintended the expenses of his
household. That it was the practice
of the treasury, when a sum had been
appropriated for the current year, to
pay it to that gentleman occasionally,
as the situation of the family might
require. The expenses at some periods
of the year exceeded, and at others fell
short of the allowance for the quarter ;
so that at some times money was paid
in advance on account of the ensuing
quarter, and at others, that which was
due at the end of the quarter was not
completely drawn out. The secretary
entered into an examination of the con
stitution and laws to show that this

608

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

practice was justifiable, and illustrated
his arguments by many examples in
which an advance on account of money
appropriated to a particular object, be
fore the service was completed, would
be absolutely necessary. However this
might be, it was a transaction in which
Washington, personally, was uncon
cerned. When possessed of the entire facts,
the public viewed, with just indigna
tion, this attempt to defame a character
which was the nation's pride. Ameri
cans felt themselves involved in this
atrocious calumny on their most illus
trious citizen ; and its propagators were
frowned into silence.
Meantime, several changes were tak
ing place in Washington's cabinet.
Edmund Bandolph, the secretary of
state, resigned his office on the 19th
of August, 1795, immediately after the
ratification of Jay's treaty, which he
had opposed. The circumstances which
led to his resignation were by no means
creditable to him ; but as they brought
out in bold relief one of Washington's
noblest traits, his perfect openness and
candor, we are induced to notice them
in detail.
A letter addressed to his government
in October, 1794, by Fauchet, the min
ister of the French republic, was in
tercepted by the captain of a British
frigate, and forwarded to Mr. Ham
mond, by whom it was delivered, about
the last of July, to Mr. Wolcott, the
secretary of the treasury, who, on the
arrival of Washington in Philadelphia,

placed it in his hands. This letter al
luded to communications from Ran
dolph, which, in the opinion of Wash
ington, were excessively improper. The
eclaircissements which the occasion re
quired, were followed by the resigna
tion of the secretary. For the purpose,
he alleged, of vindicating his conduct,
he demanded a sight of a confidential
letter which had been addressed to
him by Washington, and which was
left in the office. His avowed design
was to give this, as well as some others
of the same description, to the public,
in order to support the allegation, that
in consequence of his attachment to
France and to liberty, he had fallen
a victim to the intrigues of a British
and an aristocratic party. The answer
given to this demand was a license
which few politicians, in turbulent
times, could allow to a man who had
possessed the unlimited confidence of
the person giving it. "I have direct
ed," said Washington, " that you should
have the inspection of my letter of the
2 2d of July, agreeable to your request;
and you are at full liberty to publish,
without reserve, any and every private
and confidential letter I ever wrote
you: nay more — every word I ever
uttered to or in your presence, from
whence you can derive any advantage
in your vindication."
Notwithstanding that Randolph was
under the strongest personal obliga
tions to Washington, he did not hesi
tate, in his lame attempt to vindicate
himself, to resort to violent abuse of

Chap. IX.] RANDOLPH REGRETS HIS ABUSE OF WASHINGTON.

609

his late friend and patron. Washing
ton is said to have lost his temper on
reading Randolph's calumnies,* as well
he might, for it is difficult to conceive
of blacker ingratitude than he suffered
on this occasion. Late in life, Ran
dolph seems to have been sensible of
the enormity of his conduct. On the
2d of July, 1810, he used the following
language in a letter to the Honorable
Bushrod Washington : "I do not re
tain the smallest degree of that feeling
which roused me fifteen years ago
against some individuals. For the
world contains no treasure, deception,
or charm, which can seduce me from
the consolation of being in a state of
good-will towards all mankind ; and I
should not be mortified to ask pardon
of any man with whom I have been at
variance, for any injury which I may
have done him. If I could now pre
sent myself before your venerated un
cle, it would be my pride to confess
my contrition that I suffered my irrita
tion, let the cause be what it might, to
use some of those expressions respect
ing him which, at this moment of my
indifference to the ideas of the world,
I wish to recall, as being inconsistent
with my subsequent conviction. My
life will, I hope, be sufficiently extend
ed for the recording of my sincere
opinion of his virtues and merit, in a
style which is not the result of a mind
merely debilitated by misfortune, but
of that Christian philosophy on which
* See Dr. Griswold's Republican Court. Also, Sparks'
Writings of Washington, vol. xi., pp. 54, 479.

alone I depend for inward tranquil-
lity." Washington offered the vacant post
to Patrick Henry, who was prevented
by private considerations from under
taking its duties. Bufus King, Gen
eral Charles Cotesworth Pinckney,* and
two or three others, were asked to en
ter the cabinet as secretary of state,
but they declined. Finally, Colonel
Pickering, who had temporary charge
of the post, was formally appointed in
December of the present year. James
McHenry succeeded Colonel Pickering
as secretary of war. Mr. Bradford's!
death, in August, caused a vacancy in
the attorney-generalship, which was
also filled, in December, by the ap
pointment of Charles Lee,^ of Virginia.
This office had been previously offered
to General Pinckney, Colonel Carring-
ton, of Virginia, and Governor Howard,
of Maryland.
In August of this year, General
Wayne concluded a treaty of peace, at
Greenville, with the chiefs of the
' , 1795.
Wyandots, Delawares, Chippe-
ways, and other Indian tribes. By this
treaty the Indians ceded the post of
Detroit, and a considerable tract of
adjacent land, to the United States.
A tract of land was ceded on the
main, to the north of the island on
which the post of Michilimackinac
stood, measuring six miles on lakes
Huron and Michigan, and extending
0 See document [C] at the end of this chapter.
f See document [D] at the end of this chapter.
¦ J See document [E] at the end of this chapter.

610

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

1795.

three miles back from the water of
the lake or strait. De Bois Blanc, or
White Wood Island, was also ceded —
the voluntary gift of the Chippeways.
The foreign affairs of the United
States had now begun to assume a
more favorable aspect. A treaty was
concluded with Spain on the 27th of
October. It was confined principally
to the two great subjects in dispute,
and was styled a treaty of friendship,
limits, and navigation. By this, the
line between the United States
and East and West Florida was
settled, and the western boundary of
the United States, which separated
them from the colony of Louisiana,
was fixed in the middle of the chan
nel of the Mississippi Biver, to the
thirty-first degree of north latitude ;
and it was also agreed, that the navi
gation of that river, from its source
to the ocean, should be free only to
the subjects aud citizens of the two
countries. It was further stipulated that both
parties should use all the means in their
power, to maintain peace and harmony
among the Indian nations on their bor
ders ; and both parties bound them
selves to restrain, even by force, the
Indians within their limits from acts of
hostilities against the other ; and it was
also agreed, that neither party would
thereafter make any treaties with those
who did not live within their respec
tive limits. Provision was also made,
that free ships should make free goods,
and that no citizen or subjpct of either

pai'ty should take a commission or let
ters of marque for arming any vessel,
to act as a privateer, from their respec
tive enemies, under the penalty of being
considered and punished as a. pirate.
Thus, after a tedious and unpleasant
negotiation of about fifteen years, the
boundaries between the countries be
longing to the United States and Spain,
in America, were settled ; and the right
of navigating every part of the Missis
sippi, a right so essential to the interests
of our vast western territory, was se
cured to the United States.
In November, Washington had the
gratification to bring to a close the long
negotiations with the dey of Algiers;
by which peace was established with
those piratical marauders, and
the release of American cap
tives obtained. This was accomplished
through the agency of Colonel Humph
reys,* Joel Barlow,f and Mr. Donald
son ; and about a hundred and twenty
prisoners were released from cruel bond
age, some of whom had been in this
ignominious condition more than ten
years. During the recess of Congress, Wash
ington paid a visit to Mount Vernon,
which lasted from the middle of Sep
tember till near the end of October.
During this time his attention was
divided between the concerns of his
estate and the public affairs of that ex
citing period.

«* See Document [F] at the end of this chapter.
t See Document [G] at the end of this chapter.

DOCUMENTS ILLUSTRATING CHAPTER IX.

[A.]
TIMOTHY PICKERING.
Timothy Pickering was born in Salem, Mas
sachusetts, July 17th, 1745, of a respectable
family. He was graduated at Harvard College
in 1763, and after the usual course of professional
studies, was admitted to the practice of the law.
When the dissensions between the colonies and
the mother country commenced, he soon became
the champion and leader of the whigs of the
quarter where he lived. He was a member of
all the committees of inspection and correspond
ence, and bore the entire burden of writing.
The address which, in 1774, the inhabitants of
Salem, in full town meeting, voted to Governor
Gage on the occasion of the port-bill, proceeded
from his pen. A part of it, disclaiming any wish
on the part of the inhabitants of Salem to profit
by the closing of the port of Boston, is quoted
by Dr. Ramsay, in his History of the American
Revolution. In April, 1775, on receiving intel
ligence of the battle of Lexington, he marched
with a regiment, of which he was at the time
commander, to Charlestown, but had not an op
portunity of coming to action. Before the close
of the same year, when the provisional govern
ment was organizing, he was appointed one of
the judges of the court of common pleas for
Essex, his native county, and sole judge of the
maritime court (which had cognizance of all
prize causes) for the middle district, compre
hending Boston, with Salem and other ports in
Essex. These offices he held until he accepted
an appointment in the army. In 1777, he was
named adjutant-general by Washington, and
joined the army then at Middlebrook, New
Jersey. He continued with the commander-in-

chief until the American forces went into winter-
quarters at Valley Forge, having been present
at the battles of Brandywine and Germantown.
He then proceeded to discharge the duties of a
member of the continental board of war, to
which he had been elected by Congress, then
sitting at Yorktown, Pennsylvania. In this sta
tion he remained until he was appointed to suc
ceed General Greene in the office of quarter
master-general, which he retained during the
residue of the war, and in which he contributed
much to the surrender of Cornwallis at York-
town. From 1790 to 1794, he was charged by
President Washington with several negotiations
with the Indian nations on our frontiers. In
1791, he was also made postmaster-general, and
in 1794 removed from that station to the secre
taryship of war, on the resignation of General
Knox. In 1795, he was appointed secretary of
state in the place of Mr. Randolph. From that
office he was removed by President Adams, in
May, 1800. At the end of the year 1801, he
returned to Massachusetts. In 1803, the legis
lature of that State chose him a senator to
Congress for the residue of the term of Dwight
Forster, Esq., who had resigned, and in 1805 re
elected him to the same station for the term of
six years. After its expiration in 1811, he was
chosen by the legislature a member of the exec
utive council; and, during the war of 1812, he
was appointed a member of the board of war for
the defence of the State. In 1814, he was sent
to Congress, and held his seat until 1817. He
then finally retired to private life. His death
took place January 29, 1829, in the eighty-
fourth year of his age. In his manners, Colonel
Pickering was rlain and unassuming. In public
life, he was distinguished for energy, ability, and

612

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

disinterestedness ; and, as a soldier, he was brave
and patriotic. His writings bear ample testi
mony to his talents and information. He was
oue of the leaders of the federal party in the
United States.

[B.]
OLIVER WOLCOTT, JUNIOR.
Oliver Wolcott, Junior, was the son of the
governor of Connecticut, Oliver Wolcott, who
signed the Declaration of Independence. The
younger Wolcott was born at Litchfield, Con
necticut, in 1759. He received his collegiate
education at Yale College, New Haven, where
he was graduated in 1778. While he was an
under-graduate (1777), being on a visit to his
mother, and his father being absent attending
Congress, news arrived that a large body of
British under Governor Tryon had landed and
marched to Danbury to destroy the continental
stores. Awakened at midnight by the sum
mons to repair to the rendezvous of the militia,
he armed himself, and his mother, furnishing
his knapsack with provisions and a blanket,
hastened his departure, and dismissed him with
the charge 'to conduct like a good soldier.'
The party to which he was attached reached
the enemy at Wilton, where a skirmish took
place, in which, as well as in the subsequent
attacks during the retreat of the British, Wolcott
participated. Immediately after taking his degree at Yale
College, he commenced the study of law in the
office of Tapping Reeve, Esquire, of Litchfield.
In 1779, after the destruction of Fairfield and
Norwalk, he attended his father as volunteer
aid, to the coast. At the close of this service
he was offered a commission in the continental
service, which he declined in consequence of
having already entered upon his professional
studies. He, however, shortly after accepted a
commission in the Quarter-master's department,
which being stationary at Litchfield, would less
interfere with them.
The hospitalities of his house, and his father's
public character, introduced young Wolcott to
many persons of distinction in the army and in

Congress. In the year 1780, he thus received
General Washington, who, with his suite, among
whom were Hamilton and Meade, passed through
the district. In 1781 he became of age and
was admitted to the bar. He shortly after re
moved to Hartford. Such was his poverty, says
his biographer, that he left home with no more
than three dollars in his pocket, and to defray
his expenses, on reaching Hartford, he accepted
a clerkship in the office of the Committee of
Pay Table, with a salary amounting to about
fifty cents per diem, in specie value.* His dili
gence and merit, however, soon led to his ad
vancement, and he became initiated into the
system of conducting pubhc affairs. In May,
1784, he was appointed a commissioner for the
State of Connecticut in concert with Oliver
Ellsworth, to settle and adjust the claims of
the State against the United States. This duty,
which lasted several years, was performed in
addition to his occupation as a member of the
Board of Pay Table, to which he had been ad
vanced in consequence of his ability and dili
gence. He resigned the latter office, but, at
the request of the legislature, gave his attend
ance occasionally at the board. In May, 1788,
he was appointed comptroller of public accounts,
in which post he continued till the establish
ment of the national treasury under the con
stitution. In the year 1785, he had married Elizabeth,
the only daughter of Colonel John Staughton,
a descendant of one of the families who settled
Windsor, and a distinguished officer in the
French war.
In September, 1789, Wolcott was appointed
auditor in the treasury department of the
United States. When Hamilton resigned the
office of secretary, January 31st, 1795, Wolcott
was appointed by Washington to succeed him.
He discharged the duties of this highly re
sponsible office with remarkable zeal and fidelity
through the remaining portion of Washington's
administration. Under Adams he remained in
office till near the close of his term, sending in
his resignation on the 8th of November, 1 800,
to take effect at the end of that year. Mr.
0 Gibbs, Administrations of Washington and John Adams,

Chap. IX.]

DOCUMENTS.

613

Adams expressed reluctance and regret on
parting with him; and in February, 1801, when
on the point of leaving office himself, he gave
the most unequivocal token of his real esteem
and approbation of Wolcott's conduct as a pub
lic functionary, by appointing him judge of the
circuit court, composed of the districts of New
York, Connecticut, and Vermont. This office
afforded an honorable and independent retire
ment, and he did not hesitate to accept it. The
nomination was unanimously confirmed by the
Senate. A judgeship is generally retained till
the close of life. But the office does not ap
pear to have furnished a sufficient occupation
for the active mind and remarkable business
talent of Wolcott. He soon took up his resi
dence in New York, and devoted himself suc
cessfully to business as a merchant till 1815.
He then returned to his native State, of which
he was elected governor in 1817, and continued
in office till 1827. He then returned to New
York in order to be near his children, who were
settled there. He died in New York in 1833,
at the advanced age of 74. Mr. Wolcott was
one of the ablest and best men of his age. His
own unassisted exertions raised him from an
humble post to one of the highest in the coun
try. As a cabinet minister of Washington, the
letters of that illustrious man show that he en
joyed his confidence and esteem. His social
qualities and literary abihty were acknowledged
by his contemporaries to be of a very high
order. Wolcott's grandson, Mr. Gibbs, in his
"Administrations of Washington and John
Adams," gives copious extracts from his corre
spondence, and does justice to his character as a
statesman and a man of honor.

[0.1
GENERAL CHARLES COTESWORTH PINCKNEY.
Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, a distin
guished revolutionary officer, was born in South
Carolina, and educated at Westminster School,
m England, and subsequently at the University
of Oxford, in both of which institutions he en
joyed a high reputation for strength of charac
ter and proficiency in his studies. After read-
Vol. II.— 78

ing law at the Temple, he returned to Carolina
in 1769, but was not able to practise his pro
fession for any length of time, the commence
ment of the Revolution obliging him to ex
change the gown for the sword. He was first
appointed a captain in the continental line, and,
soon afterwards, commander of the first regi
ment of Carolina infantry. When the South
had been freed, for a period, from invasion, by
Moultrie's gallant defence of the fort on Sulli
van's Island, Colonel Pinckney joined the north
ern army, and was made aid-de-camp to Wash
ington. In that capacity he was present at the
battles of Brandywine and Germantown. When
the South was again menaced with danger, he
returned to Carolina, and disjilayed great reso
lution and intrepidity, on the rapid and harass
ing march which saved the city from General
Provost, and on the subsequent invasion of
Georgia, and the assault on the lines of Savan
nah. On the approach of the army under Sir
Henry Clinton, and of the fleet conducted by
Admiral Arbuthnot, he was intrusted with the
command of the fort on Sullivan's Island. A
favorable breeze and a flowing tide, however,
enabled the fleet to sail into the port of Charles
ton, beyond the reach of his guns. He then
hastened, with a part of the garrison, to aid in
defending the city, and was for continuing hos
tilities to the last extremity,— not, as he said,
because he thought they would eventually be
able to repel the enemy, but because " we shall
so cripple the army before us, that although
we may not live to enjoy the benefit ourselves,
yet, to the United States they will prove incal
culably great." Other counsel, however, pre
vailed, and he was made prisoner with the rest
of the besieged. Some time after the return of
peace, he was placed in command of the militia
of the lower division of the State, but was very
soon appointed by Washington, whose confi
dence and friendship he enjoyed in a high de
gree, minister plenipotentiary to France. He
resigned his commission in consequence, and
sailed for Europe. The hostile feeling of the
French Directory towards this country caused
them to reject its conciliatory propositions in
an insulting manner, and to order its minister
out of the territories of the republic. General

614

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Pinckney immediately communicated to the
government the indignities which he had re
ceived, and retired to Holland. Not long after
wards he was joined by General Marshall and
Mr. Gerry, with fresh instructions to reiterate
propositions to the Directory for the adjustment
of differences. When, at length, war was in
evitable, and the whole United States army
were resounding with his celebrated sentiment,
" Millions for defence, but not a cent for trib
ute," he returned home, having been named a
major-general by Washington, who had been
placed at the head of the forces raised for the
protection of the American shores. Superior
rank, however, was accorded to General Hamil
ton, who had been his junior during the Revo
lution. Some one spoke to General Pinckney
of this preference as unjust, but he briefly an
swered, that he was satisfied that Washington
had sufficient reasons for it. " Let us," he con
tinued, " first dispose of our enemies ; we shall
then have leisure to settle the question of rank."
Previously to his going to France, as we should
have mentioned before, he had been offered by
President Washington several places under gov
ernment of the highest importance, all of which,
however, private considerations obliged him to
decline. The first was that of judge of the su
preme court ; the next, that of secretary of war,
on the resignation of General Knox ; and then
that of secretary of state, when Randolph had
been removed. He was a member of the con
vention which framed the constitution of the
United States ; and, afterwards, in the conven
tion of South Carolina, assembled for delibera
ting upon the instrument, he contributed greatly
to its adoption. He died in August, 1825. As
a lawyer, General Pinckney was distinguished
for profound and accurate learning, and strength
and ingenuity of reasoning, without having much
pretension to eloquence. In his practice, he was
high-minded and liberal, never receiving any
compensation from the widow and orphan. His
literary attainments were extensive, especially
his classical knowledge ; and no one was a more
zealous friend to the advancement of learning.
For more than fifteen years before his death,
he acted as president of the Bible Society of
Charleston, an office to which he was named

with unanimity by the Christians of almost
every sect. In private life, his polished man
ners and generous disposition secured the es
teem and affection of all.

[D.]
WILLIAM BRADFORD.
William Bradford was born in Philadelphia,
September 14th, 1755, and was graduated in
Princeton College, 1772. He immediately after
commenced the study of law in the office of
Edward Shippen, Esq., late chief-justice of Penn
sylvania, and prosecuted his studies with unwea
ried diligence. In 1776, he joined the standard
of his country, and fought in defence of her
rights. In 1779, he recommenced the study of
the law, and, in September following, was admit
ted to the bar of the supreme court of Pennsyl
vania. In 1780, he was appointed attorney-
general of the State.
In 1784, he married the daughter of Elias
Boudinot of New Jersey, with whom he lived
in the exercise of every domestic virtue that
adorns human nature. In 1791, he was appoint
ed by Governor Mifflin judge of the supreme
court of Pennsylvania. His industry, integrity,
and ability enabled him to give general satisfac
tion in this office. On the promotion of Ed
mund Randolph to the office of secretary of
state, as successor to Mr. Jefferson, he was
urged by various considerations of public duty
to accept the now vacant office of attorney-gen
eral, which was tendered to him by Washing
ton. He accordingly received the appointment
January 28, 1794. He continued only a short
time in this station. He died August 23d, 1795.
His principal literary performance was, "An
Inquiry how far the Punishment of Death is
necessary in Pennsylvania, with notes and illus
trations," published in 1793.
Mr. Bradford was a lawyer of great ability,
and at the period of his death, his prospect of
reaching the highest stations in the United
States was considered equal to that of any of
the contemporary statesmen.

Chap. IX.]

DOCUMENTS.

615

[E.]
CHARLES LEE.
Charles Lee was a distinguished lawyer of
Virginia. He was a correspondent of Wash
ington as early as 1787. At the time of the
adoption of the federal constitution, he exerted
himself with success in its behalf in his native
State, where, at one period, it met with serious
opposition from many of the distinguished states
men of the Ancient Dominion — Patrick Henry
among the rest.
On the decease of Mr. Bradford, the office of
attorney-general remained vacant from August
to November, 1795. It was then offered to Mr.
Lee by Washington, in a letter, in which he says :
" If you can make it convenient and agreeable
to yourself to accept it, I should derive pleasure
therefrom, both from public and private con
siderations ; being persuaded that the duties of
the office will be well executed, and because I
should be much gratified in having a confiden
tial officer about me on whom I could rely."
Mr. Lee was at this time a member of the
Virginia General Assembly; and had been ar
ranging his affairs for a retirement from public
life ; but he was not willing to withhold his ser
vices while public affairs wore a critical appear
ance, and an opportunity for extensive useful
ness was held out to him. Besides this consid
eration, his personal attachment to Washington
made the offer acceptable, which would place
him in frequent communication with one whom
all considered it a high privilege to approach.
He accordingly accepted the office. When the
question of recalling Mr. Monroe from the mis
sion to France came up, he advised the recall.
His able letter on the subject may be seen in
Sparks' Writings of Washington, Vol. H., pp.
485-7. He filled the office of attorney-general
through the remainder of Washington's admin
istration, and during the whole of Adams's term.
He was succeeded by Levi Lincoln, of Massa
chusetts, appointed by Jefferson, March 5th,
1801. On the 12th of February, 1800, Mr. Lee
was appointed commissioner to adjust the claims
of Georgia; and on the 20th of February, 1801,
Mr. Adams appointed him chief judge of the
fourth circuit. After this period we hear no

more of him in political life. Mr. Lee was a
statesman of marked ability, and enjoyed the es
teem and confidence of Washington and Adams.
He died June 24, 1815, aged 58.

[F.]
COLONEL DAVID HUMPHREYS.
David Humphreys was born in the year 1753,
in the town of Derby, in the State of Connecti
cut. His father, Daniel Humphreys, who was
the pastor of the Presbyterian church in that
town, sent his son to Yale College, where he
entered as a freshman in 1767. He graduated
here in 1771, having during his stay formed
habits of intimacy with Trumbull and D wight,
who united with him in exerting a talent for
poetry in behalf of their country and her free
dom. His active and ambitious character soon
led him to seek an opportunity of being useful
to his country in the field, and he entered the
revolutionary army at an early period as a cap
tain. In October, 1777, he was a major of
brigade under General Parsons, at the time of
the capture of Fort Montgomery, and he there
probably formed an acquaintance with General
Putnam, which led to his becoming an aid to
that officer, in which capacity we find him act
ing in 1778. The honor of possessing the es
teem and confidence of Parsons and Putnam
would alone be sufficient proof of his worth ;
but, in addition, he had the singular good for
tune to be allied on terms of family intercourse
with Washington and General Greene. He
was appointed aid and military secretary to the
commander-in-chief in the early part of 1780,
after which he constantly resided with Wash
ington, in the enjoyment of his confidence and
friendship, and the participation in his arduous
duties, until the close of the war.
On the surrender of Cornwallis, the captured
standards were delivered to his charge ; and in
November, 1781, Congress resolved, "that an
elegant sword be presented, in the name of the
United States in Congress assembled, to Colonel
Humphreys, aid-de-camp of General Washing
ton, to whose care the standards taken under
the capitulation of York were consigned, as a

616

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

testimony of their opinion of his fidelity and
ability ; and that the board of war take order
thereon." This resolution was carried into ef
fect in 1786, and the sword presented by Gen
eral Knox, with a highly complimentary letter.
Colonel Humphreys attended General Washing
ton to Annapolis, when the commander-in-chief
went thither to resign his commission.
Colonel Humphreys, in a poem written short
ly after the close of the war, alludes to his own
agency in the struggle in the following graceful
lines : —
' ' I, too, perhaps, should Heaven prolong my date,
The oft-repeated tale shall oft relate ;
Shall tell the feelings, in the first alarms,
Of some bold enterprise the unequall'd charms ;
Shall tell from whom I learnt the martial art,
With what high chief I play'd my early part :
With Parsons first, whose eye, with piercing ken,
Reads through their hearts the characters of men.
Then how I aided, in the following scene,
Death-daring Putnam, then immortal Greene :
Then how great Washington my youth approved,
In rank preferr'd, and as a parent loved
(For each fine feeling in his bosom blends
The first of heroes, patriots, sages, friends) ;
With him, what hours on warlike plans I spent,
Beneath the shadow of the imperial tent ;
With him, how oft I went the nightly round
Through moving hosts, or slept on tented ground ;
From him, how oft (nor far below the first
In high behests and confidential trust) —
From him, how oft I bore the dread commands,
Which destined for the fight the eager bands :
With him, how oft I pass'd the eventful day,
Rode by his side, as down the long array
His awful voice the columns taught to form,
To point the thunder, and to pour the storm."
In July, 1784, Colonel Humphreys accompa
nied Thomas Jefferson in a visit to Europe, in
the capacity of secretary to the commission for
negotiating treaties of commerce with foreign
powers. Afterwards, in 1787, he was actively
employed in the suppression of " Shay's rebel
lion," as it was called. In 1788, while on a
visit to Mount Vernon, he wrote, among other
things, his celebrated "Life of General Put
nam." In 1789 he was employed in diplomatic
service at home, and in 1790 he was sent to
Portugal as minister. In 1797 he was trans
ferred from the court of Lisbon to that of Ma
drid, where he continued until the year 1802.

While minister to Spain, he superintended the
formation of treaties with Algiers and Tripoli.
Before returning to the United States he
purchased a flock of one hundred sheep, of the
best merino breed, and forwarded them to
America. Besides this important and valuable
addition to the manufacturing interests of the
country, he introduced several Arabian horses
and good varieties of English cattle. In testi
monial of his labors in this useful field, the trus
tees of the Massachusetts Society for Promoting
Agriculture, transmitted to him in December,
1802, a gold medal.
From 1802 to 1812, Colonel Humphreys lived
in private. At that time he became a repre
sentative to the State legislature from the town
of Derby, and bore an active part in organizing
the State troops for purposes of local defence.
In 1812 he took command of a corps of State
troops composed of volunteers, exempt by law
from military duty, of which he was created the
special commander, with the rank of brigadier-
general. His public services terminated with
the limitation of that appointment.
Colonel Humphreys received, while in active
life, the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws
from three American colleges, and was associ
ated, as a member, with many literary institu
tions in Europe and America. The last years
of his life were spent in New Haven and Bos
ton, and were chiefly occupied with concerns of
a private nature. He died of an organic disease
of the heart, at New Haven, on the 21st of
February, 1818, aged sixty-five years. His re
mains were interred in the burial-ground of that
city, and a lofty and durable granite monument
has been erected over them.
Colonel Humphreys was, in personal form, of
lofty stature and commanding appearance ; and
his manners and address impressed all who saw
him with the conviction that he possessed high
intellectual as well as physical powers.

[G.]
JOEL BARLOW.

Joel Barlow, author of the " Columbiad," was
a native of Connecticut, and born at Reading,

Chap. IX.]

DOCUMENTS.

61?

in Fairfield county, about the year 1757. He
was graduated at Yale College in 1778, and im
mediately entered upon active life. His subse
quent career was one of great vicissitude. While
a student at Yale, he served during a vacation
as a volunteer in the American army, and was
present at the battle of White Plains. He also
distinguished himself in early life by that facility
of versification which never deserted him. On
the termination of his collegiate course, after a
brief study of the law, he embraced the design,
somewhat singular for one who had no intention
of addicting himself permanently to the minis
try, of becoming a chaplain in the army, for
which post he qualified himself in six weeks.
His researches in theology were evidently not
very profound. Perhaps he wished to gratify
at once his passion for adventure and his taste
for literature. It is certain that poetry occupied
as much of his time as preaching. While in the
camp he began his poem the " Vision of Colum
bus," which, under the title of the " Colum-
biad," was afterwards expanded into an epic.
After the conclusion of hostilities and the dis
banding of the army, his life for some time con
sisted of a series of struggles to obtain a subsist
ence. He edited a newspaper, published his
Poem, and a version of hymns by Watts, opened
a bookstore, practised law, and finally, in 1788,
went to Europe as agent for a doubtful enter
prise, called the Scioto Land Company, of the
nature of which he was unacquainted. For the
next seventeen years he was absent from his
country. The business which took him to Eu
rope proving abortive, he had recourse to his
pen for a living, and published many pieces,
both in prose and verse, on the republican side,
among which were his "Advice to the Privi
leged Orders," " The Conspiracy of Kings," and
'Hasty Pudding." The horrors of the French
revolution, however, gradually weaned him from

politics, and, finding mercantile life more profit
able, he devoted himself to it with great indus
try, and amassed a large fortune. In 1795 he
was appointed by Washington consul at Al
giers, and was instrumental in redeeming many
American citizens from captivity. Having nego
tiated treaties with Algiers and Tripoli, he re
signed his post and returned to Paris, where he
lived in great splendor. During all this time
the " Columbiad," the cherished project of his
youth, had been steadily advancing to comple
tion, and his increased leisure enabled him now
to labor more assiduously upon it. In 1805 he
sold his property in France, returned to Ameri
ca, and fixed his residence at Georgetown, in
the District of Columbia. In 1808 the " Colum
biad" was published in a splendid form, and the
typographical execution still entitles it to ad
miration. The engravings are deserving of es
pecial praise. Of the poem itself it is difficult to
speak in terms of commendation. It is heavy
and cumbersome, devoid of any of the scintilla
tions of genius, and few can be found in the
present day who have waded through the mo
notonous melody of its many thousand lines.
The residence of Barlow in France had not
tended to increase his reverence for Christianity,
and the "Columbiad" affords some evidence
that the army chaplain of the Revolution was
tinctured with the prevailing infidelity. He only
survived the publication of his poem about four
years, but his death occurred in the zenith of
his political distinction. Appointed in 1811 as
plenipotentiary to France to obtain indemnifica
tion for injuries sustained by American com
merce, he was invited to a conference with Na
poleon at Wilna. But the sudden vicissitudes
of climate in his rapid journey to meet the em
peror, brought on inflammation of the lungs,
and he expired on the 22d of December, 1812,
at a little village near Cracow, in Poland.

CHAPTER X.
1795—1796.
WASHINGTON MAINTAINS THE TREATY-MAKING POWER OF THE EXECUTIVE.
Meeting of Congress. — Washington's opening speech. — Answers of the Senate and House of Representatives. —
Modification of the latter. — Affairs with France. — Mr. Monroe's reception. — Presentation of the flag. — Arrival of
Adet. — His reception and speech. — Washington's answer. — Papers and colors transmitted to Congress. — Proceed
ings thereon. — Ratification of the treaty by Great Britain announced by Washington. — His proclamation. —
Livingston moves a call for the papers relating to the treaty. — Debate.— Resolution carried authorizing a call for
the papers. — Washington's answer. — Great sensation in the House. — Mr. Sedgwick's motion respecting four
treaties. — British treaty taken up again. — Long debates. — Fisher Ames's speech. — Passage of the laws for giving
effect to the British treaty. — Other acts of Congress passed during this session. — Congress adjourns. — Washing
ton's letter to Thomas Pinckney. — Rufus King appointed successor to Pinckney. — Washington goes to Mount
Vernon. — His letter to Jefferson. — The forged letters revived and made the subject of abuse against Washing
ton. — Conduct of the opposition. — Adet's comments on Jay's treaty. — Conduct of Mr. Monroe in France.— He is
recalled, and General Charles Cotesworth Pinckney is appointed his successor. — Washington's letter to James
McHenry. — His economy of the public money.

The first session of the fourth Con
gress commenced on the 7th of Decem
ber, 1795.
Although the ratification of the trea
ties with Spain and Algiers had not been
officially announced at the meeting of
Congress, the state of the negotiations
with both powers was sufficiently well
understood to enable "Washington with
confidence to assure the legislature, in
his speech at the opening of the ses
sion, that those negotiations were in a
train which promised a happy issue.
After expressing his gratification at
the prosperous state of American af
fairs, the various favorable events which
have been already enumerated were
detailed in a succinct statement, at the

close of which he mentioned the British
treaty, which, though publicly known,
had not before been communicated of
ficially to the House of Representatives.
"This interesting summary of our
affairs," continued the speech, "with
regard to the powers between whom
and the United States controversies
have subsisted, and with regard also
to our Indian neighbors with whom we
have been in a state of enmity or mis
understanding, opens a wide field for
consoling and gratifying reflections. If
by prudence and moderation on every
side, the extinguishment of all the
causes of external discord which have
heretofore menaced our tranquillity, on
terms compatible with our national faith

Chap. X.]

MR. MONROE IN THE FRENCH CONVENTION.

619

and honor, shall be the happy results,
how firm and how precious a founda
tion will have been laid for accelerating,
maturing, and establishing the pros
perity of our country !"
After presenting an animated picture
of the situation of the United States,
and recommending several objects to
the attention of the legislature, Wash
ington concluded with observing : " Tem
perate discussion of the important sub
jects that may arise in the course of the
session, and mutual forbearance where
there is a difference in opinion, are too
obvious and necessary for the peace,
happiness, and welfare of our country,
to need any recommendation of mine."
In the Senate, an address was re
ported which echoed back the senti
ments of the speech.
In this House of Representatives, as
in the last, the party in opposition to
the administration had obtained a ma
jority. This party was unanimously
hostile to the treaty with Great Britain;
and it was expected that their answer
to the speech of the President would
indicate their sentiments on a subject
which continued to agitate the whole
American people. The answer reported
by the committee contained a declara
tion, that the confidence of his fellow-
citizens in the chief magistrate remained
undiminished. On a motion to strike out the words
importing this sentiment, it was averred
that the clause asserted an untruth ; that
it was not true that the confidence of
the people in the president was undimin

ished ; that by a recent transaction it
had been considerably impaired ; and
some gentlemen declared that their own
confidence in him was lessened.
By the friends of the administration
this motion was opposed with great zeal,
and the opinion that the confidence of
the people in their chief magistrate re
mained unshaken, was maintained with
ardor. But they were outnumbered.
To avoid a direct vote on the propo
sition, it was moved that the address
should be recommitted. This motion
succeeded, and, two members being
added to the committee, an answer was
reported, in which the clause objected
to was so modified as to be free from
exception. That part of the speech which men
tioned the treaty with Great Britain,
was alluded to in terms which, though
not directly expressive of disapproba
tion, were sufficiently indicative of the
prevailing sentiment.
Early in the month of January, Wash
ington transmitted to both houses of
Congress a message, accompanying cer
tain communications from the French
government which were well calculated
to cherish those ardent feelings that
prevailed in the legislature.
It was the fortune of Mr. Monroe to
reach Paris soon after the death of
Robespierre, and the fall of the Jaco
bins. On his reception as the minister
of the United States, which was public,
and in the Convention, he gave free
scope to the genuine feelings of his
heart ; and, at the same time, delivered

620

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

to the president of that body, with his
credentials, two letters addressed by
the secretary of state to the committee
of public safety. These letters were
answers to one written by the com
mittee of safety to the Congress of the
United States. The executive depart
ment being the organ through which
all foreign intercourse was to be con
ducted, each branch of the legislature
had passed a resolution directing this
letter to be transmitted to the presi
dent, with a request that he would
cause it to be answered in terms ex
pressive of their friendly dispositions
towards the French republic.
So fervent were the sentiments ex
pressed on this occasion, that the Con
vention decreed that the flag of the
American and French republics should
be united together, and suspended in
its own hall, in testimony of eternal
union and friendship between the two
people. To evince the impression made
on his mind by this act, and the grateful
sense of his constituents, Mr. Monroe
presented to the Convention the flag of
the United States, which he prayed
them to accept as a proof of the sensi
bility with which his country received
every act of friendship from its ally,
and of the pleasure with which it cher
ished every incident which tended to
cement and consolidate the union be
tween the two nations.
The committee of safety again ad
dressed Congress in terms adapted to
that department of government which
superintends its foreign intercourse, and

IT 96.

expressive, among other sentiments, of
the sensibility with which the French
nation had perceived those sympathetic
emotions with which the American peo
ple had viewed the vicissitudes of her
fortune. Mr. Adet, who was to succeed
Mr. Fauchet at Philadelphia, and who
was the bearer of this letter, also
brought with him the colors of France,
which he was directed to present to the
United States. He arrived in the sum
mer ; but, probably in the idea that
these communications were to be made
by him directly to Congress, did not
announce them to the executive until
late in December.
The first day of the new year was
named for their reception, when
the colors were delivered to
Washington, and the letter to Congress
also was placed in his hands.
In executing this duty, Mr. Adet
addressed a speech to the president,
which, in the glowing language of his
country, represented France as strug
gling, 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," he said, " only friends
and brothers. Long accustomed to re
gard 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."
To answer this speech was a task of
some delicacy. It was necessary to ex
press feelings adapted to the occasion,

Chap. X.]

HIS REPLY TO THE FRENCH MINISTER.

621

without implying sentiments with re
spect to the belligerent powers which
might be improper to be used by the
chief magistrate of a neutral country.
With a view to both these objects,
Washington made the following reply :
" Born, sir, in a land of liberty ; hav
ing early learned its value ; having en
gaged in a perilous conflict to defend
it ; having, in a word, devoted the best
years of my life to secure its permanent
establishment in my own country, my
anxious recollections, my sympathetic
feelings, and my best wishes are irresisti
bly attracted, whensoever, in any coun
try, I see an oppressed nation unfurl
the banners of freedom. But, above
all, the events of the French revolution
have produced the deepest solicitude
as well as the highest admiration. To
call your nation brave, were to pro
nounce but common praise. Wonder
ful people ! ages to come will read with
astonishment the history of your bril
liant exploits. I rejoice that the period
of your toils and of your immense sacri
fices is approaching. I rejoice that the
interesting revolutionary movements of
so many years have issued in the forma
tion of a constitution, designed to give
permanency to the great object for
which you have contended. I rejoice
that liberty, which you have so long
embraced with enthusiasm — liberty, of
which you have been the invincible de
fenders, now finds an asylum in the
bosom of a regularly organized govern
ment, — a government which, being
formed to secure the happiness of the
Vol. IL— 79

French people, corresponds with the
ardent wishes of my heart, while it
gratifies the pride of every citizen of
the United States by its resemblance to
their own. On these glorious events,
accept, sir, my sincere congratulations.
"In delivering to you these senti
ments, I express not my own feelings
only, but those of my fellow-citizens in
relation to the commencement, the pro
gress, and the issue of the French revo
lution ; and they will certainly join
with me in purest wishes to the Su
preme Being, that the citizens of our
sister republic, our magnanimous allies,
may soon enjoy in peace that liberty
which they have purchased at so great
a price, and all the happiness that lib
erty can bestow.
" I receive, sir, with lively sensibili
ty the symbol of the triumphs and of
the enfranchisement of your nation, the
colors of France, which you have now
presented to the United States. The
transaction will be announced to Con
gress, and the colors will be deposited
with the archives of the United States,
which are at once the evidence and
the memorials of their freedom and in
dependence. May these be perpetual !
and may the friendship of the two re
publics be commensurate with their
existence !"
The address of Mr. Adet, the answer
of the president, and the colors of
France, were transmitted to Congress
with the letter from the committee of
safety. In the House of Representatives a

622

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

1796.

resolution was moved, requesting the
president to make known to the repre
sentatives of the French republic the
sincere and lively sensations which were
excited by this honorable testimony of
the existing sympathy and affections of
the two republics ; that the House re
joiced in an opportunity of congratula
ting the French republic on the brilliant
and glorious achievements accomplished
during the present afflictive war; and
hoped that those achievements would
be attended with a perfect attainment
of their object — the permanent estab
lishment of the liberty and happiness
of that great and magnanimous people.
In February, the treaty with Great
Britain was returned, in the form ad
vised by the Senate, ratified
by his Britannic majesty. The
constitution declaring a treaty, when
made, the supreme law of the land,
the president announced it officially to
the people in a proclamation, requir
ing from all persons its observance and
execution ; a copy of which was trans
mitted to each house on the first of
March. The opposition having openly denied
the right of the president to negotiate
a treaty of commerce, was not a little
dissatisfied at his venturing to issue this
proclamation before the sense of the
House of Representatives had been de
clared on the obligation of the instru
ment. This dissatisfaction was not con
cealed. On the 2d of March, Mr.
Livingston laid upon the table a reso- 1

lution, requesting the president " to
lay before the House a copy of the
instructions to the minister of the
United States, who negotiated the
treaty with the king of Great Britain,
communicated by his message of the
1st of March, together with the corre
spondence and other documents rela
tive to the said treaty." *
On the 7th of March, he amended
this resolution by adding the words,
" excepting such of the said papers as
any existing negotiation may render
improper to be disclosed."
The friends of the administration
maintained, that a treaty was a con
tract between two nations, which, un
der the constitution, the president, by
and with the advice and consent of
the Senate, had a right to make ; and
that it was made when, by and with
such advice and consent, it had re
ceived his final act. Its obligations
then became complete on the United
States ; and to refuse to comply with
its stipulations, was to break the treaty,
and to violate the faith of the nation.
The opposition contended, that the
power to make treaties, if applicable
to every object, conflicted with powers
which were vested exclusively in Con
gress : that either the treaty-making
power must be limited in its operation,
so as not to touch objects committed
by the constitution to Congress, or
the assent and co-operation of the
House of Representatives must be re
quired to give validity to any compact,
so far as it might comprehend those

Chap. X.j CALL FOR PAPERS RELATING TO JAY'S TREATY.

623

objects. A treaty, therefore, which re
quired an appropriation of money, or
any act of Congress to carry it into
effect, had not acquired its obligatory
force until the House of Representa
tives had exercised its powers in the
They were at full liberty to

case.

make, or to withhold, such appropria
tion, or other law, without incurring
the imputation of violating any exist
ing obligation, or of breaking the faith
of the nation.
The debate on this question was ani
mated, vehement, and argumentative ;
all the party passions were enlisted in
it; and it was protracted until the
24th of March, when the resolution
was carried in the affirmative by sixty-
two to thirty-seven votes. The next
day, the committee appointed to pre
sent it to the chief magistrate reported
his answer, which was, " that he would
take the resolution into consideration."
The situation in which this vote
placed the president was peculiarly
delicate. In an elective government,
the difficulty of resisting the popular
branch of the legislature is at all times
great, but is particularly so when the
passions of the public have been strong
ly and generally excited. The popu
larity of a demand for information, the
large majority by which that demand
was supported, the additional force
which a refusal to comply with it
would give to suspicions already in
sinuated, that circumstances had oc
curred in the negotiation which the
administration dared not expose ; and

that the president was separating him
self from the representatives of the
people, furnished motives of no ordi
nary force for complying with the re
quest of the House of Representatives.
But Washington viewed every ques
tion which came before him with a
single eye to the performance of his
duty to the country. Hitherto, on
more than one occasion, he had proved
himself the defender of the constitu
tion ; but he had never been called
upon to defend it against so formidable
an attack as that which was now made.
That the future diplomatic transac
tions of the government might be seri
ously and permanently affected by es
tablishing the principle that the House
of Representatives could demand, as a
right, the instructions given to a for
eign minister, and all the papers con
nected with a negotiation, was too
apparent to be unobserved. Nor was
it less obvious that a compliance with
the request now made would go far in
establishing this principle. The form
of the request, and the motives which
induced it, equally led to this conclu
sion. It left nothing to the discretion
of the president with regard to the
public interests; and the information
was asked for the avowed purpose of
determining whether the House of
Representatives would give effect to
a public treaty.
It was also a subject for serious re
flection, that in a debate unusually
elaborate, the House of Representatives
had claimed a right of interference in

624

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the formation of treaties, which, in the
judgment of the president, the consti
tution had denied them. Duties the
most sacred requiring that he should
resist this encroachment on the depart
ment which was particularly confided
to him, he could not hesitate respecting
the course it became him to take ; and
on the 30th of March he returned to
the House the following answer to
their resolution :
"With the utmost attention I have
considered your resolution of the 24th
instant, requesting me to lay before
your house a copy of the instructions
to the minister of the United States,
who negotiated the treaty with the
king of Great Britain, together with
the correspondence and other docu
ments relative to that treaty, excepting
such of the said papers as any existing
negotiation may render improper to be
disclosed. "In deliberating upon this subject, it
was impossible for me to lose sight of
the principle which some have avowed
in its discussion, or to avoid extending
my views to the consequences which
must flow from the admission of that
principle. " I trust that no part of my conduct
has ever indicated a disposition to with
hold any information which the consti
tution has enjoined it upon the presi
dent as a duty to give, or which could
be required of him by either house of
Congress as a right ; and with truth I
affirm, that it has been, as it will con
tinue to be, while I have the honor to

preside in the government, my constant
endeavor to harmonize with the other
branches thereof, so far as the trust
delegated to me by the people of the
United States, and my sense of the ob
ligation it imposes to preserve, pro
tect, and defend the constitution, will
permit. "The nature of foreign negotiations
requires caution, and their success must
often depend on secrecy: and even
when brought to a conclusion, a full
disclosure of all the measures, demands,
or eventual concessions which may have
been proposed or contemplated, would
be extremely impolitic ; for this might
have a pernicious influence on future
negotiations, or produce immediate in
conveniences, perhaps danger and mis
chief, to other persons. The necessity
of such caution and secrecy was one
cogent reason for vesting the power of
making treaties in the president, with
the advice and consent of the Senate,
the principle on which that body was
formed confining it to a small number
of members.
"To admit, then, a right in the
House of Representatives to demand,
and to have as a matter of course, all
the papers respecting a negotiation
with a foreign power, would be to
establish a dangerous precedent.
"It does not occur that the inspec
tion of the papers asked for can be
relative to any purpose under the cog
nizance of the House of Representa
tives, except that of an impeachment,
which the resolution has not expressed.

Chap. X.]

HIS ANSWER TO THE CALL FOR PAPERS.

625

I repeat, that I have no disposition to
withhold any information which the
duty of my station will permit, or the
public good shall require, to be dis
closed; and, in fact, all the papers
affecting the negotiation with Great
Britain were laid before the Senate,
when the treaty itself was communi
cated for their consideration and advice.
"The course which the debate has
taken on the resolution of the House,
leads to some observations on the mode
of making treaties under the constitu
tion of the United States.
" Having been a member of the gen
eral convention, and knowing the prin
ciples on which the constitution was
formed, I have ever entertained but
one opinion upon this subject ; and
from the first establishment of the gov
ernment to this moment, my conduct
has exemplified that opinion ; — that
the power of making treaties is exclu
sively vested in the president, by and
with the advice and consent of the Sen
ate, provided two-thirds of the senators
present concur ; and that every treaty
so made and promulgated, thencefor
ward becomes the law of the land. It
is thus that the treaty-making power
has been understood by foreign na
tions ; and in all the treaties made with
them, we have declared, and they have
believed, that when ratified by the
president, with the advice and consent
of the Senate, they became obligatory.
In this construction of the constitution,
every House of Representatives has
heretofore acquiesced; and, until the

present time, not a doubt or suspicion
has appeared, to my knowledge, that
this construction was not a true one.
Nay, they have more than acquiesced ;
for, until now, without controverting
the obligation of such treaties, they
have made all the requisite provisions
for carrying them into effect.
" There is also reason to believe that
this construction agrees with the opin
ions entertained by the State conven
tions when they were deliberating on
the constitution ; especially by those
who objected to it, because there was
not required, in commercial treaties, the
consent of two-thirds of the whole num;
ber of the members of the Senate, in
stead of two-thirds of the senators pres
ent ; and because, in treaties respecting
territorial and certain other rights and
claims, the concurrence of three-fourths
of the whole number of the members
of both houses respectively was not
made necessary.
" It is a fact declared by the general
convention, and universally understood,
that the constitution of the United
States was the result of a spirit of
amity and mutual concession. And it
is well known, that under this influ
ence the smaller States were admitted
to an equal representation in the Sen
ate with the larger States ; and that
this branch of the government was in
vested with great powers; for, on the
equal participation of those powers the
sovereignty and political safety of the
smaller States were deemed essentially
to depend.

626

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

" If other proofs than these, and the
plain letter of the constitution itself, be
necessary to ascertain the point under
consideration, they may be found in
the journals of the general convention,
which I have deposited in the office
of the department of state. In these
journals it will appear, that a proposi
tion was made 'that no treaty should
be binding on the United States which
was not ratified by a law,' and that the
proposition was explicitly rejected.
" As, therefore, it is perfectly clear to
my understanding that the assent of
the House of Representatives is not
necessary to the validity of a treaty;
as the treaty with Great Britain ex
hibits in itself all the objects requiring
legislative provision — and on these the
papers called for can throw no light ;
and as it is essential to the due admin
istration of the government that the
boundaries fixed by the constitution be
tween the different departments should
be preserved, a just regard to the con
stitution, and to the duty of my office,
under all the circumstances of this case,
forbids a compliance with your re
quest." The terms in which this decided,
and, it would seem, unexpected nega
tive to the call for papers was con
veyed, appeared to break the last cord
of that attachment which had there
tofore bound some of the active lead
ers of the opposition to Washington.
Amidst all the agitations and irrita
tions of party, a sincere respect and
real affection for him, the remnant of

former friendship, had still lingered in
the bosoms of some who had engaged
with ardor in the political contests of
the day. But, if the last spark of this
affection was not now extinguished, it
was at least concealed under the more
active passions of the moment.
Washington's message was referred
to a committee of the whole House. It
was severely criticized, and resolutions
were adopted, by a vote of fifty-seven
to thirty-five, declaring the sense of the
House on this matter, and claiming the
right to deliberate on the expediency
of carrying into effect stipulations made
by treaty on subjects committed by the
constitution to Congress.
In March the subject came up inci
dentally. The treaties with the king
of Spain and with the dey of Algiers
were ratified by the president and laid
before Congress. On the 13th of April
Mr. Sedgwick moved, "that provision
ought to be made by law for carrying
into effect with good faith the treaties
lately concluded with the dey and re
gency of Algiers, the king of Great
Britain, the king of Spain, and certain
Indian tribes northwest of the Ohio."
After much altercation on the
subject of thus joining all these
treaties together, a division was made,
and the question taken on each. The
resolution was amended, by a majority
of eighteen, so as to read, "that it is
expedient to pass the laws necessary for
carrying into effect," &c.
The subject of the British treaty was
again taken up on the 15th of April.

1796.

Chap. X.]

JAY'S TREATY AGAIN DISCUSSED.

627

Its friends urged an immediate decision
of the question, alleging that every
member had made up his mind al
ready, and that dispatch was neces
sary, in case the treaty was to be car
ried into effect. The posts were to be
delivered up on the 1st of June, and
this required previous arrangements on
the part of the American government.
They appear to have entertained the
opinion that the majority would not
dare to encounter the immense respon
sibility of breaking the treaty, without
previously ascertaining that the great
body of the people were willing to
meet the consequences of the measure.
But its opponents, though confident of
their power to reject the resolution,
called for its discussion.
The minority soon desisted from
urging an immediate decision of the
question ; and the spacious field which
was opened by the propositions before
the House, was entered into with equal
avidity and zeal by both parties. Gal
latin, Madison, Giles, Nicholas, Preston,
and other eminent members of the re
publican party, in animated terms, op
posed the execution of the treaty, and
entered fully into the discussion of its
merits and demerits. Fisher Ames,
D wight, Foster, Harper, Lyman, Day
ton, and other men of note among the
federalists, urged every possible argu
ment in its favor.
The debate on this occasion is one
of the most celebrated which has ever
taken place in Congress. Fisher Ames's
speech is acknowledged to have been

the most remarkable and effective
which he ever made. So completely
was the House earned away by his
eloquence, that an adjournment was
carried for the avowed reason that it
was not possible to decide calmly on
the question until the members should
have taken time for reflection. Reflec
tion convinced, not only the members
of Congress, but the people, that the
opposition to the execution of the
treaty was ill-advised and unreasona
ble. The length of time consumed in
the debates was favorable to a just
view of the subject, and finally a ma
jority of the members who had been
opposed to the treaty yielded to the
exigency of the case, and united in
passing the laws which were necessary
for its fulfilment.
On the 29th of April, the question
was taken in committee of the whole,
and was determined by the casting
vote of the chairman in its favor. The
resolution was finally carried in the
House by a vote of fifty-one to forty-
eight. Besides the acts which arose out of
the treaties, Congress passed others,
regulating the dealings of the inhabit
ants of the western frontier with the
Indians ; authorizing the survey of cer
tain public lands, with a view to the
sale of them ; ordaining measures for
the protection and relief of American
seamen ; and equalizing the pay of
members of both houses of Congress.
There were some six million dollars,
which was not quite the full amount of

628

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

the income, appropriated to the pub
lic service, and the interest of the debt.
But there were so* many other demands
upon the treasury, that, after vainly
endeavoring to obtain another loan,
part of the bank stock was sold, a pro
cedure which was reprobated by Ham
ilton as a violation of system. The
opposition party would not agree to
raise further revenue by indirect inter
nal taxation, and only that augmenting
the duty on pleasure carriages was
passed into a law. Equally strenuous
was their opposition to a naval force.
Even under the pressure of the Alge-
rine piracies, the bill providing a de
cent naval force in the Mediterranean,
could not be carried through the House
without inserting a section which should
suspend all proceedings under the act,
in case the contest with Algiers was
brought to an end. That event having
occurred, not a single frigate could be
completed without further authority
from the legislature. Although no
peace had been concluded with
Tunis or Tripoli, it was with the
utmost difficulty that a bill for the
completion of three, instead of six
frigates, could be carried. On the 1st
of June, this long and important ses
sion of Congress was brought to its
close. Before Congress rose, Washington
had written to Thomas Pinckney, the
American minister in England,
who had desired his recall. In
this letter he refers to the re
cent debate in Congress on passing the

1796.

May 22,
1796.

laws necessary to give effect to the
treaty : " A long and animated discus
sion," he writes, " in the House of Rep
resentatives respecting the treaty of
amity, commerce, and navigation with
Great Britain took place, and continued
in one shape or another till the last of
April, suspending in a manner all other
business, and agitating the public mind
in a higher degree than it has been at
any period since the Revolution. And
nothing, I believe, but the torrent of
petitions and remonstrances, which were
pouring in from all the eastern and
middle States, and were beginning to
come pretty strongly from that of Vir
ginia, requiring the necessary provisions
for carrying the treaty into effect, would
have produced a division (fifty-one to
forty-eight) in favor of the appro
priation. " But as the debates, which I presume
will be sent to you from the department
of state, will give you a view of this
business more in detail than I am able
to do, I shall refer you to them. The
inclosed speech, however, made by Mr.
Ames at the close of the discussion, I
send to you ; because, in the opinion of
most, who heard it delivered or have
read it since, his reasoning is unan
swerable. "The doubtful issue of the dispute,
and the real difficulty in finding a
character to supply your place at the
court of London, has occasioned a
longer delay than may have been con
venient or agreeable to you. But as
Mr. King of the Senate, who, it seems,

Chap. X.] RUFUS KING APPOINTED MINISTER TO ENGLAND.

629

had resolved to quit his seat at that
board, has accepted the appointment,
and will embark as soon as matters
can be arranged, you will soon be
relieved. " In my letter of the 20th of Feb
ruary, I expressed in pretty strong
terms my sensibility on account of the
situation of the Marquis de Lafayette.
This is increased by the visible distress
of his son, who is now with me, and
grieving for the unhappy fate of his
parents. This circumstance, giving a
poignancy to my own feelings, has in
duced me to go a step further than I
did in the letter above mentioned, as
you will perceive by the inclosed ad
dress (a copy of which is also trans
mitted for your information) to the
Emperor of Germany, to be forwarded
by you in such a manner, and under
such auspices, as in your judgment shall
be deemed best ; or to be withheld, if
from the evidence before you, derived
from former attempts, it shall appear
clear that it would be of no avail to
send it*
" Before I close this letter, permit me
to request the favor of you to embrace
some favorable occasion to thank Lord
Grenville, in my behalf, for his polite
ness in causing a special permit to be

° This letter, dated May 15, 1796, contained an affect
ing statement of Lafayette's case, and a request that he
might be permitted to come to the United States. The
letter was transmitted to Mr. Pinckney, to he conveyed
to the emperor through his minister at London. How
far it operated in mitigating immediately the rigor of
Lafayette's confinement, or in obtaining his liberation,
remains unascertained.
Vol. IL— 80

sent to Liverpool for the shipment of
two sacks of field peas, and the like
quantity of winter vetches, which I had
requested our consul at that place to
send me for seed, but which it seems
could not be done without an order
from government ; a circumstance which
did not occur to me, or I certainly should
not have given the trouble of issuing
one for such a trifle."
Rufus King, senator from New York,
above referred to, had been nominated
to the Senate as minister to London on
the 19th of May, three days before the
date of Washington's letter to Mr.
Pinckney. Hamilton writing to Wash
ington respecting him, thus describes
his character. " Mr. King is a remark
ably well-informed man, a very judi
cious one, a man of address, a man of
fortune and economy, whose situation
affords just ground of confidence ; a
man of unimpeached probity where he
is known, a firm friend to the govern
ment, a supporter of the measures of
the president; a man who cannot but
feel that he has strong pretensions to
confidence and trust."
In June, the president went to Mount
Vernon, where he continued for more
than two months. He kept up
a constant correspondence with
his secretaries, and held himself ever in
readiness to return to the seat of gov
ernment, if his presence should be
needed. During this visit to Mount Vernon,
the following letter was written to
Thomas Jefferson. It brought the cor-

17 96.

630

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

TBook VI.

respondence, which, from time to time,
had taken place between them, to a
final close :
" Mount Vernon, July 6, 1796.
"Dear Sir: — When I inform you
that your letter of the 19th ultimo
went to Philadelphia and returned to
this place before it was received by me,
it will be admitted, I am persuaded, as
an apology for my not having acknowl
edged the receipt of it sooner.
"If I had entertained any suspicions
before that the queries which have
been published in Bache's paper pro
ceeded from yon, the assurances you
have given of the contrary would have
removed them ; but the truth is, I har
bored none. I am at no loss to con
jecture from what source they flowed,
through what channel they were con
veyed, and for what purpose they and
similar publications appear. They were
known to be in the hands of Mr. Parker
in the early part of the last session of
Congress They were shown about by
Mr. Giles during the session, and they
made their public exhibition about the
close of it.
"Perceiving, and probably hearing,
that no abuse in the gazettes would in
duce me to take notice of anonymous
publications against me, those who were
disposed to do me such friendly offices
have embraced, without restraint, every
opportunity to weaken the confidence
of the people ; and, by having the
whole game in their hands, they have
scrupled not to publish things that do
not, as well as those which do exist,

and to mutilate the latter, so as to
make them subserve the purposes which
they have in view.
" As you have mentioned the subject
yourself, it would not be frank, candid,
or friendly to conceal that your conduct
has been represented as derogating
from that opinion I had conceived you
entertained of me ; that, to your par
ticular friends and connections you have
described, and they have denounced,
me as a person under a dangerous influ
ence ; and that, if I would listen more
to some other opinions, all would be
well. My answer invariably has been,
that I had never discovered any thing
in the conduct of Mr. Jefferson to raise
suspicions in my mind of his insincerity ;
that, if he would retrace my public con
duct while he was in the administra
tion, abundant proofs would occur to
him that truth and right decisions were
the sole objects of my pursuit; that
there were as many instances within his
own knowledge of my having decided
against as in favor of the opinions of
the person evidently alluded to ; and,
moreover, that I was no believer in the
infallibility of the politics or measures
of any man living. In short, that 1
was no party-man myself, and the first
wish of my heart was, if parties did ex
ist, to reconcile them.
" To this I may add, and very truly,
that, until within the last year or two,
I had no conception that parties would,
or even could, go the length I have
been witness to ; nor did I believe until
lately that it was within the bounds of

Chap. X.]

PUBLICATION OF FORGED LETTERS.

631

probability, hardly within those of pos
sibility, that, while I was using my ut
most exertions to establish a national
character of our own, independent, as
far as our obligations and justice would
permit, of every nation of the earth,
and wished, by steering a steady course,
to preserve this country from the hor
rors of a desolating war, I should be
accused of being the enemy of one na
tion and subject to the influence of
another; and, to prove it, that every
act of my administration would be tor
tured, and the grossest and most in
sidious misrepresentations of them be
made, by giving one side only of a sub
ject, and that too in such exaggerated
and indecent terms as could scarcely be
applied to a Nero, a notorious defaulter,
or even to a common pickpocket. But
enough of this. I have already gone
further in the expression of my feelings
than I intended."
The queries referred to in the above
letter were those which had been ad
dressed to the cabinet by Washington
previous to the arrival of Mr. Genet.
As they were strictly confidential, and
could not have been obtained for pub
lication without treachery somewhere,
Jefferson had written to Washington to
exculpate himself. It will be seen that
Washington, with his usual magnanim
ity, accepts the explanation of Jefferson;
but as the party of which the latter
was the acknowledged leader were con
stantly carrying on the war of politics
by abusing and misrepresenting the for

mer's motives and purposes, it is not
surprising that their -correspondence
should have terminated at this time.
Of the numerous misrepresentations
and fabrications which, with unwearied
industry, were pressed upon the public
in order to withdraw the confidence of
the nation from its chief, no one marked
more strongly the depravity of that
principle which justifies the means by
the end, than the republication of cer
tain forged letters, purporting to have
been written by General Washington
in the year 1776.
These letters had been originally
published in the year 1777, and in
them were interspersed, with domestic
occurrences which might give them the
semblance of verity, certain political
sentiments favorable to Britain in the
then existing contest.
But the original fabricator of these
papers missed his aim. It was neces
sary to assign the manner in which the
possession of them was acquired ; and,
in executing this part of his task, cir
cumstances were stated so notoriously
untrue, that, at the time, the meditated
imposition deceived no person.
In the indefatigable research for tes
timony which might countenance the
charge that the executive was un
friendly to France and under the influ
ence of Britain, these letters were drawn
from the oblivion into which they had
sunk, it had been supposed forever,
and were republished as genuine. The
silence with which Washington treated
this as well as every other calumny,

632

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

was construed into an acknowledgment
of its truth ; and the malignant com
mentators on this spurious text would
not admit the possibility of its being
apocryphal. Those who labored incessantly to es
tablish the favorite position that the
executive was under other than French
influence, reviewed every act of the ad
ministration connected with its foreign
relations, and continued to censure
every part of the system with extreme
bitterness. Not only the treaty with
Great Britain, but all those measures
which had been enjoined by the duties
of neutrality, were reprobated as justly
offensive to France ; and no opinion
which had been advanced by Mr.
Genet, in his construction of the treaties
between the two nations, was too ex
travagant to be approved. The most
ardent patriot could not maintain the
choicest rights of his country with more
zeal than was manifested in supporting
all the claims of the French republic
upon the United States. This conduct
of the opposition increased the disposi
tion of the French government to urge
charges against that of this country ;
and the French minister regulated his
proceedings accordingly.
In the anxiety which was felt by
Washington to come to a full and im
mediate explanation with the French
Directory on the treaty with Great
Britain, Colonel Monroe, the American
minister at Paris, had been furnished,
even before its ratification, and still
more fully afterwards, with ample ma

terials for the justification of his gov
ernment. But, misconceiving the views
of the administration, he reserved these
representations until complaints should
be made, and omitted to urge them
while the Directory was deliberating
on the course it should pursue. Mean
while, his letters kept up the alarm
with regard to the dispositions ot
France ; and intelligence from the West
Indies served to confirm it. Washing
ton received information that the special
agents of the Directory in the islands
were about to issue orders for the cap
ture of all American vessels laden in
whole or in part with provisions, and
bound for any port within the domin
ions of the British crown.
Knowing well that the intentions oi
the executive had been at all times
friendly to the French republic, Wash
ington had relied with confidence on
early and candid communications for
the removal of any prejudices or mis
conceptions. That the Directory would
be disappointed at the adjustment of
those differences which threatened to
embroil the United States with Great
Britain, could not be doubted ; but, as
neither this adjustment, nor the ar
rangements connected with it, had
furnished any real cause of complaint,
he had cherished the hope that it would
produce no serious consequences, if the
proper means of prevention should be
applied in time. He was therefore dis
satisfied with delays which he had not
expected ; and seems to have believed
that they originated in a want of zeal

Chap. X.] COL. MONROE SUPERSEDED AS MINISTER TO FRANCE.

633

to justify a measure which neither the
minister himself, nor his political friends,
had ever approved. To insure an ear
nest and active representation of the
true sentiments of the executive, Wash
ington was inclined to depute an envoy
extraordinary for the particular purpose,
who should be united with the actual
minister ; but an objection, drawn from
the constitution, was suggested to the
measure. It was doubted whether the
president could, in the recess of the
Senate, appoint a minister when no
vacancy existed. From respect to this
construction of the constitution, the res
olution was taken to appoint a suc
cessor to Colonel Monroe. The choice
of a person calculated for this mission,
was not without its difficulty. While
a disposition friendly to the administra
tion was indispensable, it was desirable
that the person employed should have
given no umbrage to the French gov
ernment. After some deliberation, Washington
selected General Charles Cotesworth
Pinckney, of South Carolina, for this
critical and important service. In the
early part of the French revolution, he
had felt and expressed all the enthusi
asm of his countrymen for the establish
ment of the republic; but, after the
commencement of its contests with the
United States, he stood aloof from both
those political parties which divided
America. He was recommended to the presi
dent by an intimate knowledge of his
worth ; by a confidence in the sincerity

of his personal attachment to the chief
magistrate ; by a conviction that his
exertions to effect the objects of his
mission would be ardent and sincere ;
and that, whatever might be his parti
alities for France, he possessed a high
and delicate sense of national as well as
individual honor, was jealous for the re
putation of his country, and tenacious
of its rights.*
In July, immediately after the ap
pointment of General Pinckney, letters
were received from Colonel Monroe
communicating the official complaints
which had been made against the
American government, in March, by
M. de la Croix, the minister of ex
terior relations, with his answer to
those complaints. He had effectually
refuted the criminations of M. de la
Croix ; and the executive was satis
fied with his answer. But the Direc
tory had decided on their system, and
it was not by reasoning that their de
cision was to be changed.
Washington's correspondence with
the members of the cabinet during his
summer residence at Mount Vernon
was incessant. In his letters to James
McHenry, secretary of war, we find
evidence of his attention to minute de
tails of business, and his care of the
public funds. In his letters of the 8th
of August, we find, besides a reference

° Before offering the appointment of minister to
France to General Pinckney, Washington had offered it to
General John Marshall, afterwards chief-justice ; but the
situation of his private affairs would not permit its ac
ceptance.

634

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

to the fact of the delivery of the
posts on the frontier by Great Britain,
under the treaty, some curious details
respecting the army : " Your letter of
the 3d instant," he writes, " with the
information of our possession of Fort
Ontario, lately occupied by the troops
of Great Britain, and the correspond
ence between Captain Bruff of the
United States troops, and Captain
Clarke of the British, was brought to
me by the last post. Several matters
are submitted by the former for con
sideration, — among them, the mode of
supplying the garrison with firewood,
and furnishing it with a seine. With
respect to the first of these, providing
it with a horse or pair of horses and a
batteau, as the fuel is to be transported
so far, seems to be a matter of neces
sity ; but the practice of the American
army should be consulted for precedents,
before the British allowance is made to
the soldiers for cutting and transport
ing it to the fort, when the means by
which it s done are furnished by the

public. If no allowance of this sort
has been made heretofore in towns,
where wood was to be bought, which,
if I remember rightly, was the case in
variably while I commanded the army,
it would be a dangerous innovation to
begin it now; for it would instantly
pervade all the garrisons and the whole
army, be their situation what it may.
In time of peace, where no danger is to
be apprehended, and where the duty is
light, I see no hardship in the soldiers
providing fuel for their own use and
comfort. With regard to a seine, as
the expense would be small if it is
taken care of, and the convenience
great, I think the garrison should be
indulged with one." He had always
an eye to the comfort of the soldier as
well as to economy in the expenditure
of the public money. The garrison
might have horses for draught, a bat
teau and a seine to catch fish in the
lake ; but in time of peace they were not
to have extra pay for cutting wood to
keep themselves warm.

CHAPTER XI.
1796—1797.
WASHINGTON RETIRES FROM THE PRESIDENCY.
Washington's determination to retire from office. — His declaration of his purpose deferred through the influence of
Hamilton and others. — Anxiety of the people. — Their determination to re-elect him. — His Farewell Address
published. — Its reception by the people and the legislatures of the States.— John Adams and Thomas Pinckney
candidates for president and vice-president. — State of parties. — Impertinent interference of Adet. — Resented by
the people. — Meeting of Congress. — Washington's opening speech. — Answer of the Senate. — Of the House. —
Giles's proposition to modify it rejected. — Message on relations with France. — Measures recommended by
Washington not adopted. — Election of Adams as president and Jefferson as vice-president. — Washington's letter
to Knox. — Anecdote by Bishop White. — Washington's parting levee. — His relations with his cabinet. — His
presents to his friends. — Anecdote of Mrs. Washington and Mrs. Wolcott. — Inauguration of Adams. — His ad
dress.  Grand dinner to Washington by the citizens of Philadelphia. — Washington retires to Mount Vernon. —
Marshall's review of his administration. — Washington's letters to McHenry and Wolcott, describing his
pursuits at Mount Vernon. — His letter to Erskine. — His correspondence with the Earl of Radnor. — Charles
James Fox's opinion of Washington.

Washington's fixed determination
to retire from office at the end of his
second term, had long been known to
his confidential friends. Many of them
had opposed it from an apprehension
of a political crisis arising from the
hostile demonstrations of France, and
the strong support given to French
pretensions by the opposition party in
this country. When, in July,
Washington proposed to de
clare publicly his determination, Ham
ilton wrote to him, " If a storm gathers,
how can you retreat? This is a most
serious question." Washington, yield
ing to the wishes of Hamilton and
other intimate friends, delayed the an
nouncement of his purpose.
As the time for a new election ap

proached, the people, uncertain of his
intentions, became extremely anxious.
The strong hold, says Marshall, which
Washington had taken of the affections
of his countrymen was, on this occasion,
fully evinced. In districts where the
opposition to his administration was
most powerful, where all his measures
were most loudly condemned, where
those who approved his system pos
sessed least influence, the men who ap
peared to control public opinion on
every other subject, found themselves
unable to move it on this. Even the
most popular among the leaders of the
opposition were reduced to the neces
sity of surrendering their pretensions
to a place in the electoral body, or of
pledging themselves to bestow their

636

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

suffrage on the actual president. The
determination of his fellow-citizens had
been unequivocally manifested, and it
was believed to be apparent that the
election would again be unanimous,
when he announced his fixed resolution
to withdraw from the honors and the
toils of office.
Having long contemplated this event,
and having wished to terminate his po
litical course with an act which might
be at the same time suitable to his own
character, and permanently useful to his
country, he had prepared for the occa
sion a valedictory address, in which,
with the solicitude of a person who, in
bidding a final adieu to his friends,
leaves his affections and his anxieties
for their welfare behind him, he made
a last effort to impress upon his coun
trymen those great political truths
which had been the guides of his own
administration, and could alone, in his
opinion, form a sure and solid basis
for the happiness, the independence,
and the liberty of the United States.
This interesting paper was published
on the 17th of September, at a time
when hopes were entertained that the
discontents of France might be ap
peased by proper representations. It
contains precepts to which the Ameri
can statesman cannot too frequently
recur.* The sentiments of veneration with
which this Farewell Address was gen
erally received, were manifested in al-
° See Document at the end of this chapter.

most every part of the Union. Some
of the State legislatures directed it to
be inserted at large in their journals ;
and nearly all of them passed resolu
tions expressing their respect for the
person of the president, their high
sense of his exalted services, and the
emotions with which they contempla
ted his retirement from office. Al
though the leaders of party might re
joice at this event, it produced solemn
and anxious reflections in the great
body, even of those who belonged to
the opposition.
The person in whom alone the voice
of the people could be united having
declined a re-election, the two great
parties in America brought forward
their respective chiefs ; and every pos
sible effort was made by each to obtain
the victory. Mr. John Adams and Mr.
Thomas Pinckney, the late minister at
London, were supported as president
and vice-president by the federalists :
the whole force of the opposite party
was exerted in favor of Mr. Jefferson.
Motives of vast influence were added,
on this occasion, to those which usually
impel men in a struggle to retain or
acquire power. The continuance or
the change, not only of those princi
ples on which the internal affaire of
the United States had been adminis
tered, but of the conduct which had
been observed towards foreign nations,
was believed to depend on the choice
of a chief magistrate. By one party,
the* system of neutrality pursued by
the existing administration with regard

Chap. XL]

INTERFERENCE OF THE FRENCH MINISTER.

037

to the belligerent European powers,
had been uniformly approved; by the
other, it had been as uniformly con
demned. In the contests, therefore,
which preceded the choice of elec
tors, the justice of the complaints
which were made on the part of the
French republic were minutely dis
cussed, and the consequences which
were to be apprehended from her re
sentment, or from yielding to her pre
tensions, were reciprocally urged as
considerations entitled to great weight
in the ensuing election.
In such a struggle, it was not to be
expected that foreign powers could feel
absolutely unconcerned. In November,
while the parties were so balanced that
neither scale could be perceived to pre
ponderate, Mr. Adet addressed a letter
to Colonel Pickering, the secretary of
state, in which he recapitulated the
numerous complaints which had been
urged by himself and his predecessors,
against the government of the United
States ; and reproached that govern
ment, in terms of great asperity, with vi
olating those treaties which had secured
its independence, with ingratitude to
France, and with partiality to England.
These wrongs, which commenced with
the u msidious" proclamation of neu
trality, were said to be so aggravated
by the treaty concluded with Great
Britain, that Mr. Adet announced the
orders of the Directory to suspend his
ministerial functions with the federal
government. " But the cause," he
added, "which has so long restrained
Voi,. II.— 81

the just resentment of the Executive
Directory from bursting forth, now
tempered its effects. The name of
America, notwithstanding the wrongs
of its government, still excited sweet
sensations in the hearts of Frenchmen ;
and the Executive Directory wished
not to break with a people whom they
loved to salute with the appellation of
friend." This suspension of his func
tions, therefore, was not to be regarded
" as a rupture between France and the
United States, but as a mark of just
discontent, which was to last until the
government of the United States re
turned to sentiments and to measures
more conformable to the interests of
the alliance, and to the sworn friend
ship between the two nations." "Let
your government return to itself," con
cluded Mr. Adet, " and you will still
find in Frenchmen faithful friends and
generous allies."
As if to remove any possible doubt
respecting the purpose for which this
extraordinary letter was written, a copy
was transmitted, on the day of its date,
to a printer for publication.
This open and direct appeal of a for
eign minister to the American people,
in the critical moment of their election
of a chief magistrate, did not effect its
object. Reflecting men, even among
those who had condemned the course
of the administration, could not ap
prove this interference in the internal
affairs of the United States ; and the
opposite party resented it as an at
tempt to control the operations of the

638

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

American people in the exercise of one
of the highest acts of sovereignty, and
to poison the fountain of their liberty
and independence by mingling for
eign intrigue with their elections. The
reader of history, however, is familiar
with the fact that the course of Adet,
in this affair, was in strict accordance
with the uniform practice of the new
rulers of France at that time. Their
agents endeavored to prejudice the
people of every country in Europe
against their respective governments,
and never hesitated to interfere di
rectly between the people and the
government, wherever there was any
prospect of introducing French ascen
dency by such proceedings. The peo
ple of the United States, on the present
occasion, resented the officious interfer
ence of Adet in the pending election
as a gross insult, and it undoubtedly
aided the party which it was intended
to defeat. Congress met on the
1796. 5th of December. There was
not a sufficient number of senators
present on that day to form a quo
rum. In the House of Representatives,
among the new members who presented
themselves, was Andrew Jackson, from
Tennessee, the future president of the
United States.
On the 7th of December, Washing
ton, for the last time, met the national
legislature in the hall of the House of
Representatives. His address was com
prehensive, temperate, and dignified.
No personal consideration could re
strain him from recommending those

great national measures which he be
lieved would be useful to his country,
although open and extensive hostility
had been avowed to them.
After presenting a full view of the
situation of the United States and the
late transactions of the executive, he
added : " To an active external com
merce, the protection of a naval force is
indispensable — this is manifest with re
gard to wars in which a State is itself
a party ; but besides this, it is in our
own experience that the most sincere
neutrality is not a sufficient guard
against the depredations of nations at
war. To secure respect to a neutral
flag requires a naval force, organized
and ready to vindicate it from insult
or aggression ; this may even prevent
the necessity of going to war, by dis
couraging belligerent powers from com
mitting such violations of the rights of
the neutral party as may, first or last,
leave no other option. From the best
information I have been able to obtain,
it would seem as if our trade to the
Mediterranean, without a protecting
force, will always be insecure, and our
citizens exposed to the calamities from
which numbers of them have but just
been relieved."
The speech next proceeded earnestly
to recommend the establishment of na
tional works for manufacturing such
articles as were necessary for the de
fence of the country; and also for an
institution which should grow up under
the patronage of the public, and be
devoted to the improvement of agri-

Chap. XL]

HIS ADDRESS TO CONGRESS.

639

culture. The advantages of a military
academy, and of a national university,
were also urged ; and the necessity of
augmenting the compensation to the
officers of the United States, in various
instances, was explicitly stated.
The president, in adverting to the
dissatisfaction which had been expressed
by one of the great powers of Europe,
said : " It is with much pain and deep
regret I mention that circumstances of
a very unwelcome nature have lately
occurred. Our trade has suffered, and
is suffering, extensive injuries in the
West Indies, from the cruisers and
agents of the French republic ; and
communications have been received
from its minister here, which indicate
the danger of a further disturbance of
our commerce by its authority."
After stating his constant and earnest
endeavors to maintain cordial harmony,
and a perfectly friendly understanding
with that republic, and that his wish to
maintain them remained unabated, he
added : " In pursuing this course, how
ever, I cannot forget what is due to the
character of our government and na
tion ; or to a full and entire confidence
in the good sense, patriotism, self-re
spect, and fortitude of my country
men." After some other communications,
the speech was concluded in the follow
ing terms :
" The situation in which I now stand,
for the last time, in the midst of the
representatives of the people of the Uni
ted States, naturally recalls the period

when the administration of the present
form of government commenced ; and
I cannot omit the occasion to congratu
late you and my country on the success
of the experiment ; nor to repeat my
fervent supplications to the Supreme
Ruler of the Universe, and Sovereign
Arbiter of nations, that his providen
tial care may still be extended to the
United States ; — that the virtue and
happiness of the people may be pre
served ; and that the government which
they have instituted for their protection
may be perpetual."
The answer of the Senate embraced
the various topics of the speech, and
approved all the sentiments it con
tained. It expressed the ardent attachment
of that body to their chief magistrate,
and its conviction that much of the
public prosperity was to be ascribed
to the virtue, firmness, and talents of
his administration. After expressing
the deep and sincere regret with which
the official ratification of his intention
to retire from the public employments
of his country was received, the ad
dress proceeded to say : " The most ef
fectual consolation that can offer for
the loss we are about to sustain, arises
from the animating reflection that the
influence of your example will extend
to your successors, and the United
States thus continue to enjoy an able,
upright, and energetic administration."
In the House of Representatives, a
committee of five had been appointed
to prepare a respectful answer to the

640

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

speech, three of whom were friends to
the administration. Hoping that the
disposition would be general to avow,
in strong terms, their attachment to
the person and character of the presi
dent, the committee united in reporting
an answer which promised, in general
terms, due attention to the various sub
jects recommended to their considera
tion, but was full and explicit in the
expression of attachment to himself,
and of approbation of his administra
tion. The unanimity which prevailed in
the committee did not extend to the
House. After amplifying and strengthening
the expressions of the report, which
stated regret that any interruption
should have taken place in the har
mony which had subsisted between the
United States and France, and modify
ing those which declared their hope for
the restoration of that harmony, so as to
avoid any implication that its rupture
was exclusively ascribable to France, a
motion was made by Mr. Giles to ex
punge all those paragraphs which ex
pressed attachment to the person and
character of the president, approbation
of his administration, or regret at his
retiring from office.
After a very animated debate, the
motion to strike out was lost, and the
answer was carried by a great majority.
Early in the session, Washington com
municated to Congress the copy of a
letter addressed by the secretary of
state to General Pinckney, containing

a minute and comprehensive detail of
all the points of controversy which had
arisen between the United States and
France, and defending the measures
which had been adopted by America,
with a clearness and a strength of ar
gument believed to be irresistible. The
letter was intended to enable General
Pinckney to remove from the govern
ment of France all impressions unfavor
able to the fairness of intention which
had influenced the conduct of the Uni
ted States; and to efface from the
bosoms of the great body of the Amer
ican people, all those unjust and injuri
ous suspicions which had been enter
tained against their own administration.
Should its immediate operation on the
executive of France disappoint his
hopes, Washington persuaded himself
that he could not mistake its influence
in America; and he felt the most en
tire conviction, that the accusations
made by the French Directory against
the United States would cease, with
the evidence that these accusations were
supported by a great portion of the
American people.
The letter and its accompanying doc
uments were communicated to the pub
lic; but, unfortunately, their effect at
home was not such as had been expect
ed, and they were, consequently, inop
erative abroad.
The measures recommended by Wash
ington, in his speech at the opening of
the session, were not adopted; and
neither the debates in Congress, nor
the party publications with which the

Chap. XL]

JOHN ADAMS ELECTED PRESIDENT.

641

nation continued to be agitated, fur
nished reasonable ground for hope that
the political intemperance which had
prevailed from the establishment of
the republican form of government in
France, was about to be succeeded by
a more conciliatory spirit.
It was impossible for Washington to
be absolutely insensible to the bitter
invectives and malignant calumnies of
which he had long been the object.
Yet in one instance only did he depart
from the rule he had prescribed for
his conduct regarding them. Appre
hending permanent injury from the re
publication of certain spurious letters
which have been already noticed, he,
on the day which terminated his official
character, addressed a letter to the sec
retary of state, declaring them to be
forgeries, and stating the circumstances
under which they were published.
On the 8th of February the votes for
the president and vice-president were
opened and counted in the pres
ence of both houses ; and John
Adams announced the fact from the
chair of the vice-president, that he him
self had received seventy-one votes ;
Thomas Jefferson, sixty-eight ; Thomas
Pinckney, fifty-nine ; Aaron Burr, thirty ;
and that the balance of the votes were
given in varying small numbers, to
Samuel Adams, Oliver Ellsworth, John
Jay, etc. The total number of electors
was a hundred and thirty-eight. Thus,
John Adams became the second presi
dent of the United States; and by
some mismanagement on the part of

1797.

the federalists, Pinckney missed the
vice-presidency, and the man of all
others most dreaded by the federal
party, was placed in the very front
rank of the republicans, and with the
clear presage of success in the future.
Washington's feelings on the imme
diate prospect of retirement from office,
are expressed in the following extract
from a letter to General Knox, dated
March 2, 1797 :
" 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.
To misrepresent my motives, to repro
bate my politics, and to weaken the
confidence which has been reposed in
my administration, are objects, which
cannot be relinquished by those who
will be satisfied with nothing short of a
change in our political system. The
consolation, however, which results from
conscious rectitude, and the approving
voice of my country, unequivocally ex
pressed by its representatives, deprive
their sting of its poison, and place in
the same point of view both the weak
ness and malignity of their efforts.
"Although the prospect of retire
ment is most grateful to my soul, and
I have not a wish to mix again in the
great world, or to partake in its poli
tics, yet I am not without my regrets
at parting with (perhaps never more to
meet) the few intimates whom I love.
Among these, be assured, you are one."
Bishop White has given the follow-

642

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VL

ing anecdote, illustrating the strong
feelings of regret awakened among
Washington's friends by his approach
ing retirement from public life :
" On the day before President Wash
ington retired from office, a large com
pany dined with him. Among them
were the foreign ministers and their
ladies, Mr. and Mrs. Adams, Mr. Jeffer
son, and other conspicuous persons of
both sexes. During the dinner much
hilarity prevailed ; but, on the removal
of the cloth, it was put an end to by
the president, certainly without design.
Having filled his glass, he addressed
the company, with a smile, as nearly as
can be recollected, in the following
words : ' Ladies and gentlemen, this
is the last time I shall drink your
health as a public man. I do it with
sincerity, wishing you all possible hap
piness.' There was an end of all
pleasantry. He who gives this rela
tion accidentally directed his eye to
the lady of the British* minister, Mrs.
Liston, and tears were running down
her cheeks."
Mr. Gibbs, in his "Administrations
of Washington and Adams," refers to
the parting levee in the following
terms :
"Just before his final retirement,
Washington held his last formal levee.
An occasion more respectable in sim
plicity, more imposing in dignity, more
affecting in the sensations which it
awakened, the ceremonials of rulers
never exhibited. There were the great
chiefs of the republic of all parties and

opinions ; veterans of the war of inde
pendence, weather-stained and scarred ;
white-haired statesmen, who, in retire
ment, were enjoying the fruits of for
mer toil ; there were his executive
counsellors and private friends ; minis
ters of foreign governments, whose
veneration approached that of his coun
trymen ; citizens who came to offer the
tribute of a respect, sincere and disin
terested. Little was there of the pa
geantry of courts, little of the glitter
which attends the receptions of roy
alty ; yet in the grave assemblage
that stood in that unadorned chamber,
there was a majesty which these knew
not. The dignitaries of a nation had
come together to bid farewell to one
who, at their own free call, by their
own willing trust — not as an honor to
be coveted, but as a duty to be dis
charged — had, in turn, led their armies
and executed their laws ; one who now,
his last task worthily fulfilled, was to
take his place again among them, read
ier to relinquish than he had been to
undertake power ; a soldier, without
stain upon his arms ; a ruler, without
personal ambition ; a wise and upright
statesman ; a citizen of self-sacrificing
patriotism; a man pure, unblemished,
and true in every relation he had filled ;
one to whom all ages should point, as
the testimony that virtue and greatness
had been and could be united.
"And he who was the object of this
gathering — what thoughts crowded up
on his mind; what recollections filled
the vista of the sixty odd yetrs which

Chap. XL]

THE PARTING LEVEE.

643

had passed over him ; what changes of
men, opinions, society, had he seen !
Great changes, indeed, in the world and
its old notions : the growing dissatisfac
tion of certain English emigrants at
customary tyrannies and new intended
ones, had taken form and shape; em
bodied itself into principles, and vindi
cated them ; blazed up an alarming
beacon to the world's eyes as the Sacred
Right of Rebellion ; fought battles ; as
serted independence, and maintained it
at much cost of bloodshed ; made gov
ernments after its own new-fangled
fashion ; impressed a most unwilling
idea on history — the doctrine of popu
lar sovereignty, — one which had proved
contagious and had been adopted else
where, running riot indeed in its novel
ty. And out of all this confusion there
had arisen the nation which he had
presided over, already become great,
and factious in its greatness, with a
noble birthright, noble virtues, ener
gies, and intellect ; with great faults,
and passions that, unchecked, would, as
in lusty individual manhood, lead to its
ruin. " What was to be the future of that
nation ? Dark clouds hung over it,
dangers threatened it, enemies frowned
upon it — the worst enemy was within.
License might blast, in a few hours, the
growth of years; faction destroy the
careful work of the founders. On this
he had left his great solemn charge, like
the last warning of a father to his chil
dren. " The men who stood round him, the

men who had passed away, and whose
forms were there in his mind's eye only
— Franklin, Morris, the two Adamses,
Hancock, Greene, Jay, and that host of
compatriots living and dead, honored
already as of remote and ancient days,
canonized in men's minds, the ancestry
of the virtuous of all times, the objects
of 'hero worship' even in their own
generation. " Himself — uneducated son of a farm
er in the provinces of a distant empire —
wandering surveyor of the Alleghany
forests — partisan officer — representative
of some revolted colonists in a congress
of other like outlaws — leader of an
army of half-armed rebels — general,
victorious over the tried veterans of
Europe — statesman, who had helped to
solve the vast problem of government —
ruler by acclamation of the youngest-
born of all nations, treating with kings
and princes as their equal — now sinking
back into the great mass of three mil
lion individuals, to be no more among
them in the eye of the law than any
other. " What strifes had he gone through,
not least with himself ! How had he
made passion bend to principle, impulse
yield to will ; how had he borne misun
derstanding, calumny, desertion ; with
stood temptations ; refrained from ven
geance ; how had he trod firmly the
road he had marked out or which des
tiny assigned, sustained by courage,
faith, conscience !
" Was it strange that there were few
smiles at the last reception-day of

644

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

Washington, or that tears fell from
eyes unused to them upon the hand
that many pressed for the last time ?"
The relation in which the secretaries
had stood with the president, had been
one of respectful but affectionate inti
macy. Familiarity with him was a
thing impossible, but the most cordial
and unreserved friendship was extended
to all whom he trusted and esteemed.
The secretaries of state and war (Pick
ering and McHenry) had been his fel
low-soldiers ; the secretary of the treas
ury (Wolcott) had, as it were, grown
up under his eye. The simplicity and
military frankness of Pickering, the
kindly nature and refinement of McHen
ry, the warm-heartedness and bonhom-
mie of Wolcott, all won upon his re
gard. On their part, there was a no less
sincere love for their chief. There are
those, devotion to whom is no degra
dation. Washington was such a one,
and to him it was rendered in the
spirit of men who respected themselves.
Among all connected with him, either
in military or civil life, this sentiment
was retained. His death hallowed his
memory in their hearts to a degree and
with a sanctity which none can know
who have not heard from their own
lips — none can feel who were not of
them. And in like wise the wife and
family of Washington were cherished.
They had been universally beloved on
their own account ; and the hand of
fate, in depriving them of a husband
and father, as it were bequeathed them
to the tender care of a nation. There

was something beautiful in these senti
ments, in a land where the ties that
bind men depend so little upon associa
tion. Wolcott, among others, had enjoyed
much of the domestic society of the
president's house. His gentle and grace
ful wife had been regarded with mater
nal tenderness by Mrs. Washington,
and was the friend and correspondent
of her eldest daughter. His child had
been used to climb, confident of wel
come, the knees of the chief ; and
though so many years his junior, while
Wolcott's character and judgment had
been held in respect by the president,
his personal and social qualities had
drawn towards him a warm degree of
interest. On leaving the seat of government,
Washington presented, it is believed, to
all his chief officers some token of re
gard. To Wolcott he gave a piece of
plate. Mrs. Washington gave to his
wife, when visiting her for the last
time, a relic still more interesting.
Asking her if she did not wish for a
memorial of the general, Mrs. Wolcott
replied, " Yes," she " should like a lock
of his hair." Mrs. Washington, smiling,
took her scissors and cut off for her a
lock of her husband's and one of her
own. These, with the originals of
Washington's letters, Wolcott preserved
with careful veneration, and divided
between his surviving children.
" On the retirement of General Wash
ington," says Wolcott, " being desirous
that my personal interests should not

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Chap. XL]

INAUGURATION OF JOHN ADAMS.

645

embarrass his successor, and supposing
that some other person might be pre
ferred to myself, I tendered my resig
nation to Mr. Adams before his inau
guration. The tender was declined,
and I retained office under my former

commission.

1797.

On the 1st of March, Washington
had addressed a note to the Senate, de
siring them to attend in their
chamber on Saturday the 4th,
at 10 o'clock, " to receive any communi
cation which the President of the United
States might lay before them touching
their interests." In conformity with
this summons, the Senate assembled on
that day and commenced their thir
teenth session. The oath of office was
administered by Mr. Bingham to Mr.
Jefferson, who thereupon took the
chair. The new senators were then
sworn, and the vice-president delivered
a brief address. The Senate then re
paired to the chamber of the House of
Representatives to attend the adminis
tration of the oath of office to the new
president. Mr. Adams entered, accom
panied by the heads of departments,*
the marshal of the district and his offi
cers, and took his scat in the speaker's
chair. The vice-president and secretary
of the Senate were seated in advance
on his right, and the late speaker and
clerk on the left: the justices of the

B AU the cabinet officers of Washington were re
tained by Mr. Adams, viz : Timothy Pickering, secretary
of state ; James McHemy, secretary of war ; Oliver
Wolcott, secretary of the treasury, and Charles Lee,
attorney-general. The navy department was not organ
ized till 1798.
Vol. IL— 82

supreme court sat before the president,
the foreign ministers and members of
the House in their usual seats. Wash
ington, once more a private citizen, sat
in front of the judges.
Mr. Adams then rose and delivered
his inaugural speech. This address was
brief and well suited to the occasion.
After adverting to the circumstances
which led to the formation of the new
constitution, he expressed the unquali
fied approbation with which, in a foreign
land and apart from the scene of con
troversy, he had first perused it, and
the undiminished confidence which,
after eight years of experience, he en
tertained of its fitness. He remarked
briefly on the abuses to which it was
subject, and against which it became
the duty of the people to guard ; and
having disclosed his opinions of general
policy, pledged himself anew to the
support of the government. The oath
of office was then administered by Chief-
justice Ellsworth, the other justices at
tending ; after which he retired.f
The citizens of Philadelphia cele
brated the day of Adams's inauguration
by a testimony of their respect and
affection for Washington. They pre
pared a magnificent entertainment, de
signed for him as the principal guest, to
which were invited the foreign min
isters, the members of the cabinet,
officers of the army and navy, and
other distinguished persons.
In the rotunda in which it was given,
f Gibbs, Administrations of Washington and John Adams.

646

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

an elegant compliment was prepared
for the principal guest, which is thus
described in the papers of the day :
" Upon entering the area, the general
was conducted to his seat. On a sig
nal given, music played Washington's
march, and a scene which represented
simple objects in the rear of the prin
cipal seat was drawn up, and discovered
emblematical painting.
"The principal was a female figure
large as life, representing America,
seated on an elevation composed of six
teen marble steps. At her left side
stood the federal shield and eagle, and
at her feet lay the cornucopias ; in her
right hand she held the Indian calumut
of peace supporting the cap of liberty ; in
the perspective appeared the temple of
fame ; and on her left hand an altar dedi
cated to public gratitude, upon which in
cense was burning. In her left hand she
held a scroll inscribed Valedictory ; and
at the foot of the altar lay a plumed
helmet and sword, from which a figure
of General Washington, large as life,
appeared, retiring down the steps, point
ing with his right hand to the emblems
of power which he had resigned, and
with his left to a beautiful landscape
representing Mount Vernon, in front of
which oxen were seen harnessed to the
plough. Over the general appeared a
Genius placing a wreath of laurels on
his head."
After Washington had paid to his
successor those respectful compliments
which he believed to be equally due to
the man und to the office, he hastened to

that real felicity which awaited him at
Mount Vernon, the enjoyment of which
he had long impatiently anticipated.
The same marks of respect and affec
tion for his person, which had on all
great occasions been manifested by his
fellow-citizens, still attended him. His
endeavors to render his journey private
were unavailing ; and the gentlemen of
the country through which he passed,
were still ambitious of testifying their
sentiments for the man who had, from
the birth of the republic, been deemed
the first of American citizens. Long
after his retirement, he continued to re
ceive addresses from legislative bodies,
and various classes of citizens, expres
sive of the high sense entertained of
his services.
" Notwithstanding the extraordinary
popularity of the first president of the
United States," says Marshall, "scarcely
has any important act of his administra
tion escaped the most bitter invective.
" On the real wisdom of the system
which he pursued, every reader will
decide for himself. Time will, in some
measure, dissipate the prejudices and
passions of the moment, and enable us
to view objects through a medium which
represents them truly.
"Without taking a full review of
measures which were reprobated by
one party and applauded by the other,
the reader may be requested to glance
his eye at the situation of the United
States in 1797, and to contrast it with
their condition in 1788.
" At home, a sound credit had been

Chap. XL] RETROSPECTIVE VIEW OF HIS ADMINISTRATION.

647

created ; an immense floating debt had
been funded in a manner perfectly
satisfactory to the creditors ; an ample
revenue had been provided ; those diffi
culties which a system of internal tax
ation, on its first introduction, is doomed
to encounter, were completely removed ;
and the authority of the government
was firmly established. Funds for the
gradual payment of the debt had been
provided ; a considerable part of it had
been actually discharged ; and that sys
tem which is now operating its entire
extinction, had been matured and
adopted. The agricultural and com
mercial wealth of the nation had in
creased beyond all former example.
The numerous tribes of warlike Indians,
inhabiting those immense tracts which
lie between the then cultivated country
and the Mississippi, had been taught,
by arms and by justice, to respect the
United States, and to continue in peace.
This desirable object having been ac
complished, that humane system was
established for civilizing and furnishing
them with the conveniences of life,
which improves their condition, while it
secures their attachment.
" Abroad, the differences with Spain
had been accommodated ; and the free
navigation of the Mississippi had been
acquired, with the use of New Orleans
as a place of deposit for three years,
and afterwards, until some other equiv
alent place should be designated. Those
causes of mutual exasperation which
had threatened to involve the United
States in a Avar with the greatest mari

time and commercial power in the
world, had been removed ; and the
military posts which had been occupied
within their territory, from their ex
istence as a nation, had been evacuated.
Treaties had been formed with Algiers
and with Tripoli, and no captures ap
pear to have been made by Tunis ; so
that the Mediterranean was opened to
American vessels.
"This bright prospect was indeed,
in part, shaded by the discontents of
France. Those who have attended to
the particular points of difference be
tween the two nations, will assign the
causes to which these discontents are to
be ascribed, and will judge whether it
was in the power of the president to
have avoided them, without surrender
ing the real independence of the nation,
and the most invaluable of all rights —
the right of self-government."
Such was the situation of the United
States at the close of Washington's ad
ministration. Their circumstances at its
commencement will be recollected ; and
the contrast is too striking not to be ob
served. That this beneficial change in
the affairs of America is to be ascribed
exclusively to the wisdom which guided
the national councils, will not be pre
tended. That many of the causes
which produced it originated with the
government, and that their successful
operation was facilitated, if not secured,
by the system which was adopted, will
scarcely be denied. To estimate that
system correctly, their real influence
must be allowed to those strong preju-

648

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

dices, and turbulent passions, with
which it was assailed.
Accustomed, in the early part of his
life, to agricultural pursuits, and pos
sessing a real taste for them, Washing
ton was particularly well qualified to
enjoy, in retirement, that tranquil fe
licity which he had anticipated. Re
suming former habits, and' returning to
ancient and well-known employments,
he was familiar with his new situation,
and therefore exempt from the danger
of that disappointment which is the
common lot of those who, in old age,
retire from the toils of business, or the
cares of office, to the untried pleasures
of the country. A large estate, which
exhibited many proofs of having been
long deprived of the attentions of its
proprietor, in the management and im
provement of which he engaged with
ardor, an extensive correspondence, and
the society of men and books, gave em
ployment to every hour which was
equally innocent and interesting, and
furnished ground for the hope that the
evening of a life which had been de
voted to the public service, would be as
serene as its mid-day had been brilliant.
In his journey from Philadelphia to
Mount Vernon, Washington was accom
panied by Mrs. Washington, Miss Cus
tis, George Washington Lafayette, eld
est son of the general, and M. Frestel,
young Lafayette's tutor.
Writing to Mr. McIIenry, secretary
of war, from Mount Vernon, April
3d, 1797, he thus describes his return
home, and his situation there :

" We got home without accident, and
found the roads dryer and better than
I ever found them at that season of
the year. The attentions we met with
on our journey, were very flattering,
and, to some, whose minds are differ
ently formed from mine, would have
been highly relished ; but I avoided, in
every instance, where I had any pre
vious knowledge of the intention, and
could by earnest entreaties prevail, all
parade and escorts. Mrs. Washington
took a violent cold in Philadelphia,
which hangs upon her still; but it is
not as bad as it has been.*
" I find myself in the situation nearly
of a new beginner ; for, although I
have not houses to build (except one,
which I must erect for the accommoda
tion and security of my military, civil,
and private papers, which are volumin
ous, and may be interesting), yet I
have scarcely any thing else about me
that does not require considerable re
pairs. In a word, I am already sur
rounded by joiners, masons, and paint
ers ; and, such is my anxiety to get out

e The following extract is from a Baltimore paper,
dated March 13th : — "Last evening arrived in this city,
on his way to Mount Vernon, the illustrious object of
veneration and gratitude, George Washington. His Ex
cellency was accompanied by his lady and Miss Custis,
and by the son of the unfortunate Lafayette and his pre
ceptor. At a distance from the city, he was met by »
crowd of citizens, on horse and foot, who thronged the
road to greet him, and by a detachment from Captain
Hollingsworth's troop, who escorted him in through as
great a concourse of people as Baltimore ever witnessed.
On alighting at the Fountain Inn, the general was sa
luted with reiterated and thundering huzzas from the
spectators. His Excellency, with the companions of his
journey, leaves town, we understand, this morning."

Chap. XL]

LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS.

649

of their hands, that I have scarcely a
room to put a friend into, or to sit in
myself, without the music of hammers,
or the odoriferous scent of paint."
To Mr. Wolcott, secretary of the
treasury, he writes :
" For myself, 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, con
form to whatsoever the ruling powers
shall decide. To make and sell a little
flour, annually, to repair houses (going
fast to ruin), to build one, for the se
curity of my papers of a public nature,
and to amuse myself in agricultural
and rural pursuits, will constitute em
ployment 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 meas
ure, and add zest to my enjoyments ;
but if ever this happens, it must be
under my own vine and fig-tree; as I
do not think it probable that I shall
go beyond twenty miles from them."
To another correspondent he repeats
the same interesting sentiments, in ref
erence to his retirement, and the hap
piness he found in it :
" Retired from noise myself, and the
responsibility attached to public em
ployment, 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 culti

vate my farms, which require close at
tention, will occupy the few years, per
haps days, I may be a sojourner here,
as I am now in the sixty-sixth year of
my peregrination through life."
In a letter to Mr. McHenry, May
29th, he says :
" I begin my diurnal course with the
sun ; if my hirelings are not in their
places at that time, I send them mes
sages of sorrow for their indisposition:
having put these wheels in motion, I
examine the state of things further.
The more they are probed, the deeper
I find the wounds which my buildings
have sustained by an absence and neg
lect of eight years ; by the time I have
accomplished these matters, breakfast
(a little after seven o'clock) is ready;
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 — come, as they say, out of respect
for me. Pray, would not the word
curiosity answer as well ? And 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 pre
vented 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 acknowl
edge the letters I have received; but,
when the lights are brought, I feel
tired, and disinclined to engage in this
work, conceiving that the next night

650

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

will do as well. The next night comes,
and, with it, the same causes for post
ponement, and so on.
"This will account for your letter
remaining so long unacknowledged ;
and, having given you the history of a
day, it will serve for a year, and I am
persuaded you will not require a second
edition of it. But it may strike you,
that in this detail no mention is made
of any portion of time allotted for read
ing. The remark would be just, for I
have not looked into a book since I
carne home ; nor shall I be able to do
it until I have discharged my workmen,
probably not before the nights grow
longer, when, possibly, I may be look
ing in Doomsday Book. At present, I
shall only add, that I am always and
affectionately yours."
The celebrated Mr. (afterwards Lord)
Erskine, having sent Washington a copy
of his View of the Causes and Conse
quences of the present War with France,
he acknowledged it in a letter, of which
the following is a part :
" To have so conducted my steps in
the intricate walks of public life, and
through a long course, as to meet the
approbation of my country and the es
teem of good men, is, next to the con
sciousness of having acted in all things
from my best judgment, the highest
gratification of which my mind is sus
ceptible, and will, during the remainder
of a life which is hastening to an end,
and in moments of retirement better
adapted to calm reflection than I have
hitherto experienced, alleviate the pain

and soften any cares, which are yet to
be encountered, though hid from me at
present. "For me to express my sentiments
with respect to the administration of
the concerns of another government,
might incur a charge of stepping be
yond the line of prudence; but the
principles of humanity will justify an
avowal of my regret, and I do regret
exceedingly, that any causes whatever
should have produced, and continued
until this time, a war, more bloody,
more expensive, more calamitous, and
more pregnant with events, than mod
ern, or perhaps any other times can
furnish an example of. And I most
sincerely and devoutly wish, that your
exertions, and those of others havinc
the same object in view, may effect
what human nature cries aloud for, a
general peace."*
His correspondence with the Earl of
Radnor shows the estimation in which
he was held abroad, and also illustrates
his situation and feelings at the time.
" To General Washington.
" Sir : — Though of necessity a stran
ger to you, I cannot deny myself the

° Erskine's opinion of Washington is thus expressed
in his letter, dated London, March 15th, 1795 : "I have
taken the liberty," he writes, "to introduce your august
and immortal name in a short sentence, which will be
found in the book I send you. I have a large acquaint
ance among the most valuable and exalted classes of
men ; but you are the only human being for whom I
ever felt an awful reverence. I sincerely pray God to
grant a long and serene evening to a life so gloriously
devoted to the universal happiness of the world.
"T. Erskine."

Chap. XL]

HIS LETTER TO THE EARL OF RADNOR.

651

satisfaction, among the many who will,
probably, even from this country, in
trude upon your retirement, of offering
to you my congratulations on your
withdrawing yourself from the scene
of public affairs, with a character which
appears to be perfectly unrivalled in
history. The voluntary resignation of
authority, wielded, as it was, while you
thought fit to wield it, for the advan
tage of your country, in the universal
opinion of mankind, confirms the judg
ment I had presumed to form of your
moderation, and completes the glory of
your life.
"Permit me, sir, who, enlisted in no
political party, have, as a public man,
looked up to you with veneration ; who
have seen the beginning of your career
against England with approbation, be
cause I felt England was unjust; who
have seen you discontinue your hostil
ity towards England, when, in good
faith, she was no longer acting as an
enemy to America, by honest counsels
endeavoring to be as closely connected
in amity, as she is by natural and mu
tual interests ; who have seen you the
instrument, in the hand of Providence,
of wresting from the British Parliament
an influence destructive of the just
rights of both countries, and of estab
lishing the independence of America,
which, I am persuaded, will continual
ly, if your principles and your wisdom
shall actuate your successors, be the
means of securing them, respectively, to
us both ; who have seen you, in adver
sity and prosperity alike, the good, the

firm, the moderate, the disinterested
patriot ; permit me, I say, as an En
glishman and as a man, to rejoice at
the completion of 'such a character, and
to offer my unfeigned wishes for a
peaceful evening of your life, and the
realization (as is my sincere belief) of
your posthumous fame, and your eter
nal happiness.
" I have the honor to subscribe my
self, <fcc, Radnor.
"Longeokd Castle, January 19, 1797."
The following is Washington's reply :
" My Lord : — The sentiments which
your lordship has been pleased to ex
press, in your favor of the 19th of Jan
uary last, relative to my public con
duct, do me great honor; and I pray
you to accept my grateful acknowledg
ment of the unequivocal evidence, con
veyed in your letter, of the favorable
opinion you entertain of the principles
by which it was actuated.
" For having performed duties which
I conceive every country has a right to
require of its citizens, I claim no merit ;
but no man can feel more sensibly the
reward of approbation for such services
than I do. Next to the consciousness
of having acted faithfully in discharg
ing the several trusts to which I have
been called, the thanks of one's country
and the esteem of good men are the
highest gratification my mind is sus
ceptible of.
" At the age of sixty-five, I am now
recommencing my agricultural and ru
ral pursuits, which were always more

652

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

congenial to my temper and disposition
than the noise and bustle of public em
ployments ; notwithstanding so small a
portion of my life has been engaged in
the former.
" I reciprocate, with great cordiality,
the good wishes you have been pleased
to bestow on me, and pray, devoutly,
that we may both witness, and that
shortly, the return of peace ; for a
more bloody, expensive, and eventful
war is not recorded in modern, if to be
found in ancient history."
Before leaving the subject of Wash
ington's European reputation, it is
proper to quote the remarks made by
the celebrated orator and statesman,
Charles James Fox, in the British Par
liament, January 31, 1794. It was in
reference to Washington's communica
tions to Congress at the oj>ening of the
session, December 3d, 1793 :
"And here, sir, I cannot help al
luding to the President of the United
States, General Washington, a charac
ter whose conduct has been so different
from that which has been pursued by
the ministers of this country. How in
finitely wiser must appear the spirit
and principles manifested in his late
address to Congress, than the policy of
modern European courts ! Illustrious
man, deriving honor less from the
splendor of his situation than from the
dignity of his mind ; before whom all
borrowed greatness sinks into insignifi
cance, and all the potentates of Europe
(excepting the members of our own

royal family) become little and con
temptible ! He has had no occasion
to have recourse to any tricks of poli
cy or arts of alarm ; his authority has
been sufficiently supported by the same
means by which it was acquired, and
his conduct has uniformly been charac
terized by wisdom, moderation, and
firmness. Feeling gratitude to France
for the assistance received from her in
that great contest which secured the
independence of America, he did not
choose to give up the system of neu
trality. Having once laid down that
line of conduct which both gratitude
and policy pointed out as most proper
to be pursued, not all the insults and
provocation of the French minister,
Genet, could turn him from his pur
pose. Intrusted with the welfare of a
great people, he did not allow the mis
conduct of another, with respect to him
self, for one moment to withdraw his
attention from their interest. He had
no fear of the Jacobins ; he felt no
alarm from their principles, and consid
ered no precaution necessary in order
to stop their progress.
" The people over whom he presided,
he knew to be acquainted with their
rights and their duties. He trusted to
their own good sense to defeat the ef
fect of those arts which might be em
ployed to inflame or mislead their
minds ; and was sensible that a govern
ment could be in no danger while it
retained the attachment and confidence
of its subjects; — attachment, in this in
stance, not blindly adopted ; confidence

Chap. XL]

REMARKS OF CHARLES JAMES FOX.

653

not implicitly given, but arising from
the conviction of its excellence, and the
experience of its blessings. I cannot,
indeed, help admiring the wisdom and
fortune of this great man. By the
phrase ' fortune,' I mean not in the
smallest degree to derogate from his
merit. But, notwithstanding his extra
ordinary talents and exalted integrity,
it must be considered as singularly for
tunate that he should have experienced
a lot which so seldom falls to the por
tion of humanity, and have passed
through such a variety of scenes with-
Vol. IL— 83

out stain and without reproach. It
must, indeed, create astonishment, that,
placed in circumstances so critical, and
filling, for a series of years, a station so
conspicuous, his character should never
once have been called in question ; that
he should, in no one instance, have been
accused either of improper insolence oi
mean submission in his transactions
with foreign nations. For him it has
been reserved to run the race of glory,
without experiencing the smallest in
terruption to the brilliancy of his
career."

WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES.
Feiends 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 ar
rived 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 conduce to a more distinct
expression of the public voice, that I should
now apprise you cf the resolution I have formed,
to decline being considered among the number
of those out of whom the choice is to be made.
I beg yon ct 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
influenced by no diminution of zeal for your
future interest ; no deficiency 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 in
clination to the opinion of duty, and to a defer
ence 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 re-
tarn to that retirement from which I had been
reluctantly drawn. The strength of my inclina
tion to do this, previous to the last election, had

even led to the preparation of an address to de
clare it to you ; but mature reflection on the
then perplexed and critical posture of our 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 per
suaded, whatever partiality may be retained for
my services, that in the present circumstances
of our country, you will not disapprove of my
determination to retire.
The impressions with which I first under
took the arduous trust, were explained on the
proper occasion. In the discharge of this trust
I will only say, that I have, with good inten
tions, contributed towards the organization and
administration of the government the best exer
tions 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 iu the eyes of
others, has strengthened the motives to diffi
dence of myself; and every day the increasing
weight of years admonishes me more and more,
that the shade of retirement is as necessary to
me as it will be welcome. Satisfied that if any
circumstances have given peculiar value to my
services, they were temporary, I have the con
solation to believe, that while choice and pru
dence invite me to quit the political scene, pa
triotism does not forbid it.
In looking forward to the. moment which is
to terminate the career of my political life, my
feelings do no permit me to suspend the deep

Chap. XL]

WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

655

acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which
I owe to my beloved country, for the many
honors it has conferred upon me ; still more for
the steadfast confidence with which it has sup
ported me ; and for the opportunities I have
thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable at
tachment, by services faithful 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 example in our an
nals, that, under circumstances in which the
passions, agitated in every direction, were liable
to mislead — amidst appearances sometimes du
bious — vicissitudes of fortune often discouraging
— in situations in which not unfrequently want
of success has countenanced the spirit of criti
cism — the constancy of your support was the
essential prop of the efforts, and a guarantee of
the plans, by which they were effected. Pro
foundly penetrated with this idea, I shall carry
it with me to my grave, as a strong incitement
to unceasing wishes, 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 work of your hands, may be sacredly main
tained — that its administration in every depart
ment maybe 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 preservation and
so prudent a use of this blessing, as will acquire
to them the glory of recommending it to the
applause, the affection, and the adoption, of
every nation which is yet a stranger to it.
Here, perhaps, i ought to stop. But a so
licitude for your welfare, which cannot end but
with my life, and the ajpprehension of danger
natural to that solicitude, urge me, on an occa
sion like the present, to offer to your solemn
contemplation, and to recommend to your fre
quent review, some sentiments, which are the
result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable
observation, and winch appeal to me all-import
ant to the permanency of your felicity as a peo
ple. These will be offered to you with the more
freedom, as you can only see in them the disin
terested warnings of a parting friend, who can

possibly have no personal motive to bias his
counsel. Nor can I forget, as an encourage
ment to it, your indulgent reception of my sen
timents on a former and not dissimilar occasion.
Interwoven as is the love of liberty with
every ligament of your hearts, no recommenda
tion of mine is necessary to fortify or confirm
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 edifice of
your real independence ; the support of your
tranquillity at home, your peace abroad ; of
your safety, of your prosperity, of that very lib
erty which you so highly prize. But as it is
easy to foresee, that from different causes and
from different quarters, much pains will be tak
en, 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 in
finite moment, that you should properly esti
mate the immense value of your national union,
to your collective and individual happiness ; that
you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and im
movable attachment to it ; accustoming your
selves to think and speak of it as of the palla
dium of your political safety and prosperity ;
watching for its preservation with jealous anx
iety; discountenancing whatever may suggest
even a suspicion that it can in any event be
abandoned ; and indignantly frowning upon the
first dawning of every attempt to alienate any
portion of our country from the rest, or to en
feeble the sacred ties which now link together
the various parts.
For this you have every inducement of sym
pathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice,
of a common countiy, that country has a right
to concentrate your affections. The name of
American, which belongs to you in your na
tional 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, man
ners, habits, and political principiis. You have.
in a common cause fought and triumphed to-

656

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

gether ; the independence and liberty you pos
sess, are the work of joint councils and joint
efforts, of common dangers, sufferings, and suc
cesses. But these considerations, however power
fully they address themselves to your sensibility,
are greatly outweighed by those which apply
more immediately to your interest. Here every
portion of our country finds the most command
ing motives for carefully guarding and preserving
the union of the whole.
The North, in an unrestrained intercourse
with the South, protected by the equal laws of
a common government, finds in the productions
of the latter, great additional resources of mari
time and commercial enterprise, and precious
materials of manufacturing industry. The South,
in the same intercourse, benefiting 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 navi
gation, it looks forward to the protection of a
maritime strength, to which itself is unequally
adapted. The East, in 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 commodities which it brings from
abroad, or manufactures at home. The West
derives from the East supplies requisite to its
growth and comfort; and, what is perhaps of
still greater consequence, it must of necessity
owe the secure enjoyment of indispensable out
lets for its own productions, to the weight, in
fluence, and the future maritime strength of
the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an
indissoluble community of interest as one nation.
Any other tenure 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 pow
er, 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 resource, proportionably great
er security from external danger, a less frequent
interruption of their peace by foreign nations ;
and, what is of inestimable value, they must de
rive from union an exemption from those broils
and wars between themselves which so fre
quently afflict neighboring countries, not tied
together by the same government ; which their
own rivalships alone would be sufficient to pro
duce, but which opposite foreign alliances, at
tachments, and intrigues would stimulate and
embitter. Hence likewise 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 considerations speak a persuasive lan
guage to every reflecting 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 em
brace so large a sphere ? Let experience solve
it. To listen to mere speculation in such a case
were criminal. We are authorized to hope that
a proper organization of the whole, with the
auxiliary agency of governments for the respect
ive subdivisions, will afford a happy issue to the
experiment. It is well worth a fair and full
experiment. With such powerful and obvious
motives to union, affecting all parts of our coun
try, while experience shall not have demonstra
ted 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 dis
turb our union, it occurs as matter of serious
concern, that any ground should have been fur
nished for characterizing parties by geographi
cal discriminations — northern and southern —
Atlantic and western : 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 misrepresent

Chap. XL]

WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

657

the opinions and aims of other districts. You
cannot shield yourselves too much against the
jealousies and heart-burnings which spring from
these misrepresentations ; they tend to render
alien to each other, those who ought to be
bound together by fraternal affection. The in
habitants of our western country have lately had
a useful lesson on this head. They have seen,
in the negotiation by the executive, and in the
unanimous ratification by the Senate, of the
treaty with Spain, and in the universal satisfac
tion at that event throughout the United States,
a decisive proof how unfounded were the sus
picions 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 witnesses 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 were procured ?
Will they not henceforth be deaf to those ad
visers, 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 indispen
sable. No alliances, however strict, between
the parts can be an adequate substitute ; they
must inevitably 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 constitution of government,
better calculated than your former, for an inti
mate union, and for the efficacious management
of your common 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 distribution of its powers uni
ting security with energy, and containing within
itself a provision for its own amendments, has a
just claim tn your confidence and your support.
Respect for its authority, compliance with its
laws, acquiescence 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 con
stitution which at any time exists, until changed
by an explicit 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 establish a government, presupposes
the duty of every individual to obey the estab
lished government.
All obstructions to the execution of the
laws, all combinations and associations, under
whatever plausible character, with the real de
sign to direct, control, counteract, or awe the
regular deliberations and action of the consti
tuted authorities, are destructive of this funda
mental 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 public administration the mirror of
the ill-concerted and incongruous projects of
faction, rather than the organ of consistent and
wholesome plans, digested by common councils,
and modified by mutual interests.
However combinations or associations 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 lifted them to unjust do
minion. Towards the preservation of your govern
ment, and the permanency of your present
happy state, it is requisite not only that you
steadily discountenance irregular oppositions to
its acknowledged 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 alterations which will impair
the energy of the system, and thus to undermine

658

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

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 characters of governments, as of
other human institutions — that experience is the
surest standard by which to test the real ten
dency of the existing constitution of a country —
that facility in changes upon the credit of mere
hypothesis 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 in
terests, in a country so extensive as ours, a
government of as much vigor as is consistent
with the perfect security of liberty, is indispen
sable. Liberty itself will find in such a govern
ment, 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 enjoy
ment of the rights of person and property.
I have already intimated to you the danger
of parties in the State, with particular reference
to the founding of them on geographical dis
criminations. Let me now take a more com
prehensive view, and warn you in the most
solemn manner against the baneful effects of the
spirit of party generally.
This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from
our nature, having its root in the strongest pas
sions of the human mind. It exists under dif
ferent shapes in all governments, more or less
stifled, controlled, or repressed ; but in those of
the popular form, it is seen in its greatest rank-
ness, and is truly their worst enemy.
The alternate domination of one faction over
another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge nat
ural to party dissension, which in different ages
and countries has perpetrated the most horrid
enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. But
this leads at length to a more formal and per
manent despotism. The disorders and miseries
which result, gradually incline the minds of men
to seek security and repqse in the absolute power
of an individual ; and sooner or later the chief
of some prevailing faction, more able or more

fortunate than his competitors, turns this dispo
sition to the purposes of his own elevation on
the ruins of public liberty.
Without looking forward to an extremity of
this kind (which nevertheless ought not to be
entirely out of sight), the common and con
tinual mischiefs of the spirit of party are suffi
cient to make it the interest and duty of a wise
people to discourage and restrain it.
It serves always to distract the public coun
cils, and enfeeble the public administration. It
agitates the community with ill-founded jealous
ies and false alarms ; kindles the animosity of one
part against another; foments occasional riot and
insurrection. It opens the door to foreign in
fluence and corruption, which find a facilitated
access to the government itself, through the
channel of party passions. Thus the policy and
the will of one country are subjected to the pol
icy and will of another.
There is an opinion that parties in free coun
tries 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 mo
narchical cast, patriotism may look with indul
gence, if not with favor, upon the spirit of party.
But in those of the popular character, in gov
ernments 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 be
ing constant clanger 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 warming,
it should consume.
It is important, likewise, that the habits of
thinking in a free country should inspire cau
tion, in those intrusted with its administration,
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

Chap. XL]

WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

659

it, which predominate in the human heart, is
sufficient to satisfy us of the truth of this posi
tion. The necessity of reciprocal checks in the
exercise of political power, by dividing and dis
tributing it into different depositories, and con
stituting each the guardian of the public weal
against invasions of 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 distribution or modification of the consti
tutional powers be in any particular wrong, let
it be corrected by an amendment in the way
which the Constitution designates. But let
there be no change by usurpation ; for though
this, in one instance, may be the instrument r 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 prosperity, religion and morality are
indispensable supports. In vain would that man
claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor
to subvert these great pillars of human happi
ness — 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 con
nections with private and public 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
without 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 mo
rality can prevail in exclusion of religious prin
ciples. It is substantially true, that virtue or moral
ity is a necessary spring of popular government.
This 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
fab lie ?
Promote, then, as an object of primary im
portance, 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 en
lightened. As a very important source of strength and
security, cherish public credit. One method oi
preserving it is to use it as sparingly as possi
ble, avoiding occasions of expense by cultivating
peace ; but remembering also, that timely dis
bursements 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 dis
charge the debts which unavoidable wars may
have occasioned, not ungenerously throwing
upon posterity the burden which we ourselves
ought to bear. The execution of these maxims
belongs to your representatives ; but it is neces
sary that public opinion should co-operate. 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 taxes can be
devised which are not more or less inconvenient
and unpleasant ; that the intrinsic embarrass
ment inseparable from the selection of the
proper objects (which is always a choice of dif
ficulties), ought to be a decisive motive for a
candid construction of the conduct of the gov
ernment in making it, and for a spirit of ac
quiescence in the measures for obtaining reve
nue, which the public exigencies 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 en
join it? It will be worthy of a free, en
lightened, and, at no distant period, a great
nation, to give to mankind the 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

660

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

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 per
manent felicity of a nation with its virtue ?
The experiment, at least, is recommended by
every sentiment which ennobles human na
ture. 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 pas
sionate attachments for others, should be ex
cluded ; and that in place of them, just and
amicable feelings towards all should be culti
vated. The nation which indulges towards
another an habitual hatred, or an habitual fond
ness, is in some degree a slave. It is a slave to
its animosity or to its affection, either of which
is sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and
its interest. Antipathy in one nation against
another disposes each more readily to offer in
sult and 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, en
venomed, and bloody contests. The nation,
prompted by ill-will and resentment, sometimes
impels to war the government, contrary to the
best calculations of policy. The government
sometimes participates in the national propen
sity, and adopts through passion, what reason
would reject ; at other times 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, sometimes perhaps the liberty, of
nations has been the victim.
So, likewise, a passionate attachment of one
nation for another, produces a variety of evils.
Sympathy for the favorite nation, facilitating
the illusion of an imaginary common interest in
cases where no real common interest exists, and
infusing into one the enmities of the other, be
trays the former into a participation in the
quarrels and wars of the latter, without ade
quate inducements or justification. It leads also
to concessions to the favorite nation of privileges

denied to others, which are apt doubly to injure
the nation making the concessions, by unneces
sary parting with what ought to have been
retained ; and by exciting jealousy, ill-will, and
a disposition to retaliate, in the parties from
whom equal privileges are withheld ; and it
gives to ambitious, corrupted, or deluded citi
zens (who devote themselves to the favorite
nation), facility to betray or sacrifice the in
terests of their own country, without odium,
sometimes even with popularity ; gilding with
the appearances of a virtuous sense of obliga
tion to a commendable deference for pubhc
opinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the
base or foolish compliances of ambition, corrup
tion, or infatuation.
As avenues to foreign influence in innumer
able ways, such attachments are particularly
alarming to the truly enlightened and inde
pendent patriot. How many opportunities do
they afford to tamper with domestic factions,
to practise the arts of seduction, to mislead
public opinion, to influence or awe the public
councils ! Such an attachment of a small or
weak, towards a great and powerful nation,
dooms the former to be the satellite of the
latter. Against the insidious wiles of foreign
influence (I conjure you to believe me, fellow-
citizens), the jealousy of a free people ought to
be constantly awake ; since history and ex
perience prove, that foreign influence is one of
the most baneful foes of republican government.
But that jealousy, to be useful, must be impar
tial; else it becomes the instrument of the
very influence to be avoided, instead of a de
fence 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 serve to veil and even
second the arts of influence on the other. Real
patriots, who may resist the intrigues of the
favorite, are liable to become suspected and
odious ; while its tools and dupes usurp the ap
plause and confidence of the people, to surrender
their interests.
The great rule of conduct for us, in regard
to foreign nations, is, in extending our commer
cial relations, to have with them, as little political
connection as possible. So far as we have al-

Chap. XL]

WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS.

661

ready formed engagements, let them be fulfilled
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 contro
versies, the causes of which are essentially for
eign to our concerns. Hence, therefore, it must
be unwise in us to implicate ourselves by arti
ficial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes of her
politics, or the ordinary combinations and col
lisions 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 gov
ernment, 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 ac
quisitions upon us, will not lightly hazard the
giving us provocation ; when we may choose
peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice,
shall counsel.
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, en
tangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of
European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor,
or caprice ?
It is our true policy to steer clear of perma
nent alliances with any portion of the foreign
world ; so far, I mean, as we are now at liberty
to do it ; for let me not be understood as capa
ble of patronizing infidelity to existing engage
ments. 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 gen
uine sense. But in my opinion, it is unnecessary,
and would be unwise, to extend them.
Taking care always to keep ourselves, by
suitable establishments, on a respectable defen
sive posture, we may safely trust to temporary
alliances for extraordinary emergencies.
Harmony, and a liberal intercourse with all
nations, are recommended by policy, humanity,
and interest. But even our commercial policy
Vol. II.— 84.

should hold an equal and impartial hand ; nei
ther seeking nor granting exclusive favors or
preferences ; consulting the natural 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 trade a stable course, to de
fine the rights of our merchants, and to enable
the government to support them, — conventional
rules of intercourse, the best that present cir
cumstances and mutual opinion will permit, but
temporary, and liable to be from time to time
abandoned or varied, as experience and circum
stances shall dictate ; constantly keeping in view,
that it is folly in one nation to look for disin
terested favors from another ; that it must pay
with a portion of its independence for whatever
it may accept under that character ; that l>y
such acceptance, it may place itself in the con
dition of having given equivalents for nominal
favors, and yet of being reproached with in
gratitude for not giving more. There can be
no greater error than to expect or calculate
upon real favors from nation to nation. It is
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 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 hith
erto marked the destiny of nations. But if I
may even flatter myself, that they may be pro
ductive 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 against the impostures of pretended pa
triotism ; 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 du
ties, I have been guided by the principles which
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.

662

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

In relation to the still subsisting war in Eu
rope, my proclamation of the 22d of April, 1793,
is the index to my plan. Sanctioned by your
approving voice, and by that of your represen
tatives in both houses of Congress, the spirit of
that measure has continually governed me ; un
influenced 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 circum
stances of the case, had a right to take, and
was bound in duty and interest to take, a neu
tral 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 ad
mitted by all.
The duty of holding a neutral conduct may
be inferred, without any thing more, from the
obligation which justice and humanity impose
on every nation, in cases in which it is free to
act, to maintain inviolate the relations of peace
and amity towards other nations.
The inducements of interest for observing
tnat conduct will best be referred to your own
reflections and experience. With me, a pre
dominant motive has been to endeavor to gain

time to our country to settle and mature its yet
recent institutions, and to progress, without in
terruption, to that degree of strength and con
sistency, which is necessary to give it, humanly
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 de
fects 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 in
dulgence ; and after forty-five years of my life
dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal,
the faults of incompetent abilities will be con
signed to oblivion, as myself must soon be to
the mansions of rest.
Relying on its kindness in this as in other
things, and actuated by that fervent love to
wards 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 enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of
my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good
laws under a free government — the ever favor
ite object of my heart, and the harjpy reward,
as I trust, of our mutual cares, labors, and
dangers. Uhited States, Sept. 17, 1796.

CHAPTER XII.
1797—1798.
WASHINGTON APPOINTED LIE TJTEN ANT- GENER AL.
Eosidence of Lafayette's son in Washington's family. — Proceedings of Congress in relation to Lafayette's son. — His
departure for Europe. — Washington's letter to Lafayette. — Washington's attention to political affairs during his
retirement. — Conduct of the French Directory. — Their treatment of General Pinckney. — Their insults to the
American government. — Their hostile aggressions on American commerce. — President Adams calls a, special
session of Congress.— His opening speech. — Answer of Congress debated. — Federal party still in the ascendant.
— Three envoys sent to France. — Their treatment hy Talleyrand.— Failure and return of the mission. — Prepara
tions for war. — The army. — All parties desirous that Washington should command it. — His views. — Hamilton's
letter. — Washington's reply. — President Adams's letter to him. — McHenry's letter. — Washington's answer to
Adams's letter. His letter to the secretary of war. — Washington appointed lieutenant-general and commander-
in-chief. — Mr. McHenry sent to Mount Vernon with the commission. — President Adams's letter. — Washington's
consultation with McHenry. — His letter to Adams.— Officers named by Washington for the chief appointments
in the army. — Washington's faithful attention to the duties of his office. — His correspondence on military affairs
at this time. — Naval warfare. — Navy department created. — Truxtun's victories. — Overtures of Talleyrand for
peace. — President Adams sends the third mission to France. — Its success. — Peace.

We have mentioned, incidentally,
that George Washington Motier de
Lafayette, the son of the general, with
his tutor, M. Frestel, accompanied
Washington on his journey from Phil
adelphia to Mount Vernon. When
the wife and daughters of Lafayette
left France, to join him in the prison
of Olmntz, his son came to the United
States. He arrived at Boston in the
summer of 1795, with his tutor, and
had immediately written to Washing
ton to apprise him of his arrival.
The letter was received just as he was
leaving Philadelphia for Mount Ver
non. Washington would have been
delighted to receive him immediately
into his family ; but this was forbidden

by political considerations of great
weight. He therefore wrote to George
Cabot, of Boston, desiring him to as
sure the young man of his friendship
and protection ; and recommending
that he should be entered as a student
at Harvard University, Cambridge,
and offering to defray the expenses of
his education there. This was de
clined, however, on account of the dif
ferent course of study which he was
pursuing under the tuition of M. Fres
tel ; and George went to take up his
residence with M. Lacolombe,* in a
country-house near New York. In No-
° M. De Lacolombe had been adjutant-general under
Lafayette, when the latter commanded the National
Guard.

664

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

vember, 1795, Washington wrote to
young Lafayette and his tutor, assuring
the former of his paternal regard and
support, and desiring him to repair to
Colonel Hamilton in New York. On
the 18th of March, 1796, the following
resolution and order were passed by
the House of Representatives in Con

gress :

" Information having been given to
this House that a son of General La
fayette is now within the United
States ;
" Resolved, that a committee be ap
pointed to inquire into the truth of
the said information, and report there
on ; and what measures it would be
proper to take, if the same be true, to
evince the grateful sense entertained
by this country for the services of his
father. " Ordered, that Mr. Livingston, Mr.
Sherburne, and Mr. Murray be ap
pointed a committee pursuant to the
said resolution."
As chairman of this committee, Mr.
Livingston wrote to young Lafayette as
follows :
" Sir : — Actuated by motives of grat
itude to your father, and eager to seize
every opportunity of showing their
sense of his important services, the
House of Representatives have passed
the resolution which I have the pleas
ure to communicate. The committee
being directed to inquire into the fact
of your arrival within the United
States, permit me to advise your imme

diate appearance at this place, that the
legislature of America may no longer
be in doubt whether the son of Lafa
yette is under their protection, and
within the reach of their gratitude.
" I presume to give this advice as an
individual personally attached to your
father, and very solicitous to be useful
to any person in whose happiness he is
interested. If I should have that good
fortune on this occasion, it will afford
me the greatest satisfaction.
" I am, &c,
" Edward Livingston."
On receiving this letter, young La
fayette wrote to Washington, inclosing
the resolution and the letter of Mr.
Livingston, and asking his advice rela
tive to the course which he should pur
sue. The following is Washington's
answer :
" Your letter of the 28th instant was
received yesterday. The inclosures,
which accompanied it, evidence much
discretion, and your conduct therein
meets my entire approbation.
" In the early part of this month, I
put a letter into the hands of Colonel
Hamilton, inviting you to this place ;
and expected, until your letter of the
above date was received, to have em
braced you under my own roof to-mor
row or next day.
" As the period for this seems to be
more distant, from the purport of your
inquiries, I. again repeat my former re
quest, and wish that, without delay,
you and M. Frestel would proceed im-

Chap. XH.]

WASHINGTON'S LETTER TO LAFAYETTE.

665

mediately to this city and to my house,
where a room is prepared for you and
him. "Under expectation of your doing
this, it is as unnecessary as it might be
improper to go more into detail until I
have the pleasure of seeing you, and of
rendering every service in my power to
the son of my friend, for whom I have
always entertained the purest affection,
which is too strong not to extend itself
to you: Therefore believe me to be, as
I really ain, sincerely and affectionately
yours, &c."
From this time (March, 1796) to
April, 1797, when he journeyed with
Washington to Mount Vernon, young
Lafayette resided with him in Phila
delphia. Writing to General Dumas
(Juno 24, 1797) from Mount Vernon,
Washington, after expressing an ardent
wish for the restoration of General La
fayette to liberty, says : " His son, and
M. Frestel, who appears to have been
his mentor, are, and have been, resi
dents in my family since their arrival
in this country, except in the first mo
ments of it ; and a modest, sensible,
well-disposed youth he is."
In October, 1797, intelligence of the
liberation of General Lafayette from
his Austrian prison, having been re
ceived, his son hastened to meet him
in France. He sailed with M. Frestel
from New York, on the 26th of Octo
ber, bearing the following letter from
Washington to his father :*
0 Sparks, Writings of Washington.

" This letter I hope and expect will
be presented to you by your son, who is
highly deserving of such parents as you
and your amiable lady.
"He can relate, much better than 1
can describe, my participation in your
sufferings, my solicitude for your relief,
the measures I adopted, though ineffect
ual, to facilitate your liberation from an
unjust and cruel imprisonment, and the
joy I experienced at the news of its ac
complishment. I shall hasten, there
fore, to congratulate you ; and be as
sured that no one can do it with more
cordiality, with more sincerity, or with
greater affection, on the restoration of
that liberty, which every act of your
life entitles you to the enjoyment of;
and I hope I may add, to the uninter
rupted possession of your estates, and
the confidence of your country. The
repossession of these things, though
they cannot compensate for the hard
ships you have endured, may neverthe
less soften the painful remembrance of
them. "From the delicate and responsible
situation in which I stood as a public
officer, but more especially from a mis
conception of the manner in which
your son had left France, till explained
to me in a personal interview with him
self, he did not come immediately into
my family on his arrival in America,
though he was assured in the first mo
ments of it, of my protection and sup
port. His conduct, since he first set
his feet on American ground, has been
exemplary in every point of view, such

666

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

as has gained him the esteem, affection,
and confidence of all who have had the
pleasure of his acquaintance. His filial
affection and duty, an I his ardent de
sire to embrace his parents and sisters,
in the first moments of their release,
would not allow him to wait the au
thentic account of this much-desired
event ; but, at the same time that I
suggested the propriety of this, I could
not withhold my assent to the gratifica
tion of his wishes to fly to the arms of
those whom he holds most dear, per
suaded as he is, from the information
he has received, that he shall find you
all in Paris. _
" M. Frestel has been a true mentor
to George. No parent could have been
more attentive to a favorite son; and
he richly merits all that can be said of
his virtues, of his good sense, and of his
prudence. Both your son and he carry
with them the vows and regrets of this
family, and all who know them. And
you may be assured that yourself never
stood higher in the affections of the
people of this country, than at the
present moment.
" Having bid a final adieu to the
walks of public life, and meaning to
withdraw myself from politics, I shall
refer you to M. Frestel and George,
who, at the same time that they have,
from prudential considerations, avoided
all interference in the politics of the
country, cannot have been inattentive
observers of what was passing among
us, to give you a general view of our
situation, and of the party which, in

my opinion, has disturbed the peace
and tranquillity of it. And with senti
ments of the highest regard for you,
your lady, and daughters, and with as
surances, that, if inclination or events
should induce you or any of them to
visit America, no person in it would
receive you with more cordiality and
affection than Mrs. Washington and
myself, both of us being most sincerely
and affectionately attached to you, and
admirers of them."
Devoted as Washington, in his retire
ment, was to his favorite pursuit of ag
riculture, he nevertheless took a lively
interest in the political affairs of the
country. In the events which were
now passing, he found cause for con
siderable anxiety. The conduct of the
French Directory still indicated a per
sistence in their favorite policy of de
taching the people of the United States
from the support of the executive, and
effecting a revolution in the govern
ment. Their treatment of General
Pinckney, the minister sent to France
by Washington, fully disclosed their
views and intentions. After inspect
ing General Pinckney's letter of cre
dence, the Directory announced to him
their determination " not to receive an
other minister plenipotentiary from the
United States, until after the redress of
grievances demanded of the American
government, v» hich the French republic
had a right to expect from it." This
message was succeeded, first by indec
orous verbal communications, calculated
to force the American minister out of

Chap. XII.]

SPECIAL SESSION OF CONGRESS.

667

France, and afterwards, by a written
mandate to quit the territories of the
republic. This act of hostility was accompanied
with another which would explain the
motives for this conduct, if previous
measures had not rendered all further
explanation unnecessary.
On giving to the recalled minister
his audience of leave, the president of
the Directory addressed a speech to
him, in which terms of outrage to the
government were mingled with expres
sions of affection for the people of the
United States; and the expectation of
ruling the former, by their influence
over the latter, was too clearly mani
fested not to be understood. To com
plete this system of hostility, American
vessels were captured wherever found ;
and, under the pretext of their wanting
a document, with which the treaty of
commerce had been uniformly under
stood to dispense, they were condemned
as prize.
This serious state of things demanded
a solemn consideration. On receiving
from General Pinckney the dispatches
which communicated it, President Ad
ams issued his proclamation requiring
Congress to meet on the 15th day of
May. The speech delivered by him
at the commencement of the session,
showed that the insults of the French
Directory were deeply resented. He
said : " The speech of the president dis
closes sentiments more alarming than
the refusal of a minister, because more
dangerous to our independence and

union ; and, at the same time, studi
ously marked with indignities towards
the government of the United States.
It evinces a disposition to separate the
people from their government ; to per
suade them that they have different
affections, principles, and interests from
those of their fellow-citizens whom they
themselves have chosen to manage their
common concerns ; and thus to produce
divisions fatal to our peace. Such at
tempts ought to be repelled with a de
cision which shall convince France, and
the world, that we are not a degraded
people, humiliated under a colonial
spirit of fear, and sense of inferiority,
fitted to be the miserable instruments
of foreign influence, and regardless of
national honor, character, and interest.
* * * Retaining still the desire which
had uniformly been manifested by the
American government to preserve peace
and friendship with all nations, and be
lieving that neither the honor nor the
interest of the United States absolutely
forbade the repetition of advances for
securing these desirable objects with
France, he should," he said, " institute a
fresh attempt at negotiation, and should
not fail to promote and accelerate an
accommodation on terms compatible
Avith the rights, duties, interests, and
honor of the nation." But while lie
should be making these endeavors to
adjust all differences with the French
republic by amicable negotiation, he
earnestly recommended it to Congress
to provide effectual measures ot de
fence.

668

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

The drawing up an answer to this
speech of President Adams occasioned
a full fortnight's debate in the House of
Representatives ; but at length a reply,
correspondent to the president's tone
and views, was carried by fifty-one or
fifty-two voices against forty-eight.
This showed the balance of parties ;
proved that Adams still kept the as
cendency, however small, that Wash
ington had done ; and that the dread
of democratic violence prevailed over
the suspicions endeavored to be awak
ened of monarchism and an arbitrary
executive. This feeling was, no doubt,
strengthened greatly by refugees from
St. Domingo, who related the dire ef
fects which democratic acts had pro
duced in that island. France, however,
was never more formidable. Tidings of
her victories poured in ; whilst those of
England told of bank payments sus
pended, a mutiny in the fleet, and the
abandonment of her best continental
ally. To carry into effect the pacific dispo
sitions avowed by President Adams in
his speech, he appointed three envoys
to the French Directory. General
Pinckney, who was still residing in
Europe, was placed at the head of the
mission. General John Marshall, after
wards chief-justice, a sturdy federalist,
and Elbridge Gerry, an anti-federalist,
but a strong personal friend and favor
ite of the president, were joined with
Pinckney in the mission. They were
instructed to endeavor to procure peace
and reconciliation by all means compat

ible with the honor and faith of the
United States ; but no national engage
ments were to be impaired ; no innova
tion to be permitted upon those inter
nal regulations for the preservation of
peace which had been deliberately and
uprightly established ; nor were the
rights of the government to be sur
rendered. On their arrival in France, the envoys
saw M. Talleyrand, the minister for for
eign affairs, but were informed that they
could not be received by the Directory.
They had permission to remain in Paris,
however, and the agents of M. de Tal
leyrand, — a female amongst others, —
were employed to negotiate with them.
The true difficulty in the way of accom
modation, in addition to the impertinent
arrogance of the Directory, seemed to
be, that Merlin and others received a
great part of the gains accruing from
American prizes made by the French.
In order to counteract this gold in one
hand by gold in the other, Talleyrand
demanded a douceur of fifty thousand
pounds for himself and chiefs, besides a
loan to be afterwards made from Amer
ica to France. To extract these condi
tions, every argument that meanness
could suggest was employed by Talley
rand : he demanded to be feed as a
lawyer, or bribed as a friend. But the
Americans were inexorable ; and two of
their number, Pinckney and Marshall,
returned, to announce to their country
men the terms on which peace was of
fered. The cupidity of the French gov
ernment completely turned against it

Chap. XII.]

PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.

669

the tide of popular feeling in America.
"Millions for defence, not a cent for
tribute," was instantly the general cry.
The president felt his hands strength
ened by the demands of the French.
Certainly, never did minister show him
self less sagacious than M. de Talleyrand
in this affair, or more ignorant of the
spirit and manners of a nation amongst
whom he had resided.
In Congress, vigorous measures were
adopted for placing the country in a
state of defence against impending hos
tilities from one of the most powerful
nations of the world. Among these was
a regular army. A regiment of artil
lerists and engineers was added to the
permanent establishment ; and the pres
ident was authorized to raise twelve ad
ditional regiments of infantry, and one
regiment of cavalry, to serve during the
continuance of the existing differences
with the French republic, if not
sooner discharged. He was also
authorized to appoint officers for
a provisional army, and to receive and
organize volunteer corps who should be
exempt from ordinary militia duty ; but
neither the volunteers nor the officers of
the provisional army were to receive
pay unless called into actual service.
Addresses to the executive from every
part of the United States attested the
high spirit of the nation, and the an
swers of President Adams were well
calculated to give it solidity and dura
tion. No sooner had a war become proba
ble, to the perils of which no man could
Voi. IL— 85

May,
1798.

be insensible, than the eyes of all were
directed to Washington, as the person
who should command the American
army. He alone could be* seen at the
head of a great military force without
exciting jealousy ; he alone could draw
into public service, and arrange proper
ly the best military talents of the na
tion ; and he, more than any other, could
induce the utmost exertion of its phys
ical strength.
Indignant at the unprovoked injuries
which had been heaped upon his coun
try, and convinced that the conflict,
should a war be really prosecuted by
France with a view to conquest, would
be extremely severe, and could be sup
ported, on the part of America, only by
a persevering exertion of all her force,
he could not determine, should such
a crisis arrive, to withhold those aids
which it might be in his power to af
ford, should public opinion really attach
to his services that importance which
would render them essential. His own
reflections appear to have resulted in a
determination not to refuse once more
to take the field, provided he could
be permitted to secure efficient aid by
naming the chief officers of the army,
and to remain at home until his service
in the field should be required by actual

invasion.

A confidential and interesting letter
from Colonel Hamilton of the 19th of
May, on political subjects, concludes
with saying: "You ought also to be
* Marshall.

670

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

aware, my dear sir, that in the event of
an open rupture with France, the public
voice will again call you to command
the armies of your country ; and though
all who are attached to you will, from
attachment as well as public considera
tions, deplore an occasion which should
once more tear you from that repose to
which you 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
further, this very great sacrifice."
"You may be assured," said Wash
ington in reply, " that my mind is deep
ly impressed with the present situation
of public affairs, and not a little agitated
by the outrageous conduct of France
towards the United States, and at the
inimitable conduct of those partisans
who aid and abet her measures. You
may believe further, from assurances
equally sincere, that if there was any
thing in my power to be done consist
ently, to avert or lessen the danger of
the crisis, it should be rendered with
hand and heart.
"But, my dear sir, dark as matters
appear at present, and expedient as it
is to be prepared for the worst that can
happen (and no man is more disposed
to this measure than I am), I cannot
make up my mind yet for the expecta
tion of open war ; or, in other words,
for a formidable invasion by France. I
cannot believe, although I think her
capable of any thing, that she will at
tempt to do more than she has done.

When she perceives the spirit and pol
icy of this country rising into resistance,
and that she has falsely calculated upon
support from a large part of the people
to promote her views and influence in
it, she will desist ever from those prac
tices, unless unexpected events in Eu
rope, or the acquisition of Louisiana and
the Floridas, should induce her to con
tinue them. And I believe further,
that although the leaders of their party
in this country will not change their
sentiments, they will be obliged to
change their plan, or the mode of car
rying it on. The effervescence which is
appearing in all quarters, and the de
sertion of their followers, will frown
them into silence — at least for a while.
" If I did not view things in this light,
my mind would be infinitely more dis
quieted than it is ; for, if a crisis should
arrive when a sense of duty, or a call
from my country, should become so im
perious as to leave me no choice, I
should prepare for relinquishment, and
go with as much reluctance from my
present peaceful abode, as I should go
to the tombs of my ancestors."
The opinion that prudence required
preparations for open war, and that
Washington must once more be placed
at the head of the American armies,
strengthened every day; and on the
22d of June, President Adams addressed
him a letter, in which that subject was
thus alluded to :
"In forming an army, whenever 1
must come to that extremity, I am at
an immense loss whether to call out the

Chap. XII.] HIS REPLY TO THE LETTER OF PRESIDENT ADAMS.

671

old generals, or to appoint a young set.
If the French come here, we must learn
to march with a quick step, and to at
tack, for in that way only they are said
to be vulnerable. I must tax you some
times for advice. We must have your
name, if you will in any case permit us
to use it. There will be more efficacy
in it than in many an army."
A letter from McHenry, the secretary
of war, written four days afterwards,
concludes with asking : " May we flatter
ourselves that, in a crisis so awful and
important, you will accept the command
of all our armies ? I hope you will, be
cause you alone can unite all hearts and
all hands, if it is possible that they can
be united."
These letters reached Washington on
the same day. The following extract
from his reply to the president will ex
hibit the course of his reflections rela
tive to his appearance once more at the
head of the American armies :
" At the epoch of my retirement, an
invasion of these States by any Euro
pean power, or even the probability of
such an event in my days, was so far
from being contemplated by me, that I
had no conception either that or any
other occurrence would arise in so short
a period which could turn my eyes from
the shades of Mount Vernon. But this
seems to be the age of wonders. And
it is reserved for intoxicated and lawless
France (for purposes of Providence far
beyond the reach of human ken) to
slaughter her own citizens, and to dis
turb the repose of all the world besides.

From a view of the past, — from the
prospect of the present, — and of that
which seems to be expected, it is not
easy for me to decide satisfactorily on
the part it might best become me to
act. In case of actual invasion by a
formidable force, I certainly should not
intrench myself under the cover of age
and retirement, if my services should
be required by my country to assist in
repelling it. And if there be good
cause to expect such an event, which
certainly must be better known to the
government than to private citizens, de
lay in preparing for it may be danger
ous, improper, and not to be justified
by prudence. The uncertainty, how
ever, of the latter, in my mind, creates
my embarrassment ; for I cannot bring
it to believe, regardless as the French
are of treaties, and of the laws of na
tions, and capable as I conceive them
to be of any species of despotism and
injustice, that they will attempt to in
vade this country after such a uniform
and unequivocal expression of the de
termination of the people in all parts to
oppose them Avith their lives and for
tunes. That they have been led to be
lieve by their agents aud partisans
among us that we are a divided people,
that the latter are opposed to their own
government, and that the show of a
small force Avould occasion a revolt, I
have no doubt ; and how far these men
(grown desperate) will further attempt
to deceive, and may succeed in keep
ing up the deception, is problematical.
Without that, the folly of the Directory

672

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

in such an attempt would, I conceive,
be more conspicuous, if possible, than
their wickedness.
" Having with candor made this dis
closure of the state of my mind, it
remains only for me to add, that to
those who know me best, it is best
known that, should imperious circum
stances induce me to exchange once
more the smooth paths of retirement
for the thorny ways of public life, at a
period too Avhen repose is more con
genial to nature, it would be productive
of sensations which can be more easily
conceived than expressed."
His letter to the secretary of war
was more detailed and more explicit.
" It cannot," he said, " be necessary for
me to premise to you or to others who
know my sentiments, that to quit the
tranquillity of retirement, and enter
the boundless field of responsibility,
would be productive of sensations which
a better pen than I possess would find
it difficult to describe. Nevertheless,
the principle by which my conduct has
been actuated through life, would not
suffer me, in any great emergency, to
withhold any services I could render
when required by my country ; — es
pecially in a case where its dearest
rights are assailed by lawless ambition
and intoxicated power, in contempt of
every principle of justice, and in viola
tion of a solemn compact, and of laws
which govern all civilized nations, —
and this too Avith the obvious intent to
sow thick the seeds of disunion for the
purpose of subjugating our government,

and destroying our independence and
happiness. " Under circumstances like these, ac
companied by an actual invasion of our
territory, it would be difficult for me,
at any time, to remain an idle spectator,
under the plea of age or retirement.
With sorrow, it is true, I should quit
the shades of my peaceful abode, and
the ease and happiness I now enjoy, to
encounter anew the turmoils of war, to
which, possibly, my strength and powers
might be found incompetent. These,
however, should not be stumbling-
blocks in my own way. But there are
other things highly important for me to
ascertain and settle before I could give
a definitive answer to your question :
" 1st. The propriety in the opinion
of the public, so far as that opinion has
been expressed in conversation, of my
appearing again on the public theatre,
after declaring the sentiments I did in
my valedictory address of September,
1796. " 2dly. A conviction in my own
breast, from the best information that
can be obtained, that it is the Avish of my
country that its military force should
be committed to my charge ; and,
" 3dly. That the army now to be
formed should be so appointed as to
afford a well-grounded hope of its doing
honor to the country, and credit to
him who commands it in the field.
" On each of these heads you must
allow me to make observations."
Washington then proceeded to detail
his sentiments on those points on which

Chap. XII.]

HE IS APPOINTED LIEUTENANT-GENERAL.

673

his consent to take command of the
army must depend.
Some casual circumstances delayed
the reception of the letters of the
president and secretary of war for
several days, in consequence of which,
before the answer of Washington reach
ed the seat of government, the presi
dent had nominated him to the chief
command of all the armies raised or to
be raised in the United States, with the
rank of lieutenant-general ; and the
Senate had unanimously advised and
consented to his appointment.
By the secretary of war, who was
directed to wait upon him with his
commission, the president addressed to
him the following letter :
" Mr. McHenry, the secretary of war,
will have the honor to wait on you in
my behalf, to impart to you a step I
have ventured to take, which I should
have been happy to have communicated
in person, had such a journey, at this
time, been in my power.
" My reasons for this measure will be
too well known to need any explana
tion to the pubhc. Every friend and
every enemy of America will compre
hend them at first blush. To you, sir,
I owe all the apology I can make. The
urgent necessity I am in of your advice
and assistance, indeed of your conduct
and direction of the war, is all I can
urge; and that is a sufficient justifica
tion to myself and to the world. I
hope it will be so considered by your
self. Mr. McHenry will have the honor
to consult you upon the organization of

the army, and upon every thing rela
ting to it."
Open instructions, signed by the
president, were on the same day de
livered to the secretary of war, of which
the following is a copy :
" It is my desire that you embrace
the first opportunity to set out on your
journey to Mount Vernon, and wait on
General Washington with the com
mission of lieutenant-general and com
mander-in-chief of the armies of the
United States, which, by the advice
and consent of the Senate, has been
signed by me.
" The reasons and motives which pre
vailed on me to venture on such a step
as the nomination of this great and
illustrious character, whose voluntary
resignation alone occasioned my intro
duction to the office I now hold, were
too numerous to be detailed in this
letter, and are too obvious and impor
tant to escape the observation of any
part of America or Europe. But as it
is a movement of great delicacy, it will
require all your address to communicate
the subject in a manner that shall be
inoffensive to his feelings, and consistent
with all the respect that is due from me
to him.
"If the general should decline the
appointment, all the world will be silent,
and respectfully acquiesce. If he should
accept it, all the world, except the ene
mies of his country, will rejoice. If he
should come to no decisive determina
tion, but take the subject into consid
eration, I shall not appoint any other

674

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

lieutenant-general until his conclusion
is known. " His advice in the formation of a list
of officers would be extremely desirable
to me. The names of Lincoln, Morgan,
Knox, Hamilton, Gates, Pinckney, Lee,
Carrington, Hand, Muhlenberg, Dayton,
Burr, Brooks, Cobb, Smith, as well as
the present commander-in-chief, may be
mentioned to him, and any others that
occur to you. Particularly, I Avish to
have his opinion on the men most suita
ble for inspector-general, adjutant-gen
eral, and quartermaster-general.
" His opinion on all subjects would
have great weight, and I wish you to
obtain from him as much of his reflec
tions upon the times and the service as
you can."
The communications between Wash
ington and the secretary of war appear
to have been full and unreserved. The
impressions of the former respecting
the critical and perilous situation of his
country had previously determined him
to yield to the general desire, and ac
cept the commission offered him, pro
vided he could be permitted to select
for the high departments of the army,
and especially for the military staff,
those in whom he could place the great
est confidence. Being assured that there
Avas every reason to believe his wishes
in this respect would not be thwarted,
he gave to the secretary the arrange
ment which he would recommend for
the principal stations in the army ; and,
on the 13th of July, addressed the fol
lowing letter to the president :

" I had the honor, on the evening of
the 11th instant, to receive from the
hands of the secretary at war your
favor of the seventh, announcing that
you had, with the advice and consent of
the Senate, appointed me lieutenant-
general and commander-in-chief of the
armies raised or to be raised for the
service of the United States.
"I cannot express how greatly af
fected I am at this new proof of public
confidence, and at the highly flattering
manner in Avhich you have been pleased
to make the communication. At the
same time, I must not conceal from you
my earnest wish that the choice had
fallen upon a man less declined in years,
and better qualified to encounter the
usual vicissitudes of war.
"You know, sir, what calculations I
had made relative to the probable
course of events on my retiring from
office, and the determination, with
which I had consoled myself, of closing
the remnant of my days in my present
peaceful abode. You Avill therefore be
at no loss to conceive and appreciate
the sensations I must have experienced,
to bring my mind to any conclusion
that Avould pledge me, at so late a
period of life, to leave scenes I sincerely
love, to enter upon the boundless field
of public action, incessant trouble, and
high responsibility.
" It was not possible for me to remain
ignorant of, or indifferent to, recent
transactions. The conduct of the Di
rectory of France towards our country ;
their insidious hostility to its govern-

Chap. XII.]

HE ACCEPTS THE COMMAND OF THE ARMIES.

675

ment; their various practices to with
draw the affections of the people from
it ; the evident tendency of their arts,
and those of their agents, to counte
nance and invigorate opposition ; their
disregard of solemn treaties and the
laws of nations ; their war upon our
defenceless commerce; their treatment
of our ministers of peace; and their
demands, amounting to tribute, could
not fail to excite in me sentiments cor
responding with those my countrymen
have so generally expressed in their
affectionate addresses to you.
" Believe me, sir, no man can more
cordially approve the wise and prudent
measures of your administration. They
ought to inspire universal confidence,
and will no doubt, combined with the
state of things, call from Congress such
laws and means as will enable you to
meet the full force and extent of the
crisis. "Satisfied, therefore, that you have
sincerely wished and endeavored to
aArert war, and exhausted to the last
drop the cup of reconciliation, we can,
with pure hearts, appeal to Heaven for
the justice of our cause, and may confi
dently trust the final result to that kind
Providence who has heretofore, and so
often, signally favored the people of
the United States.
" Thinking in this manner, and feel
ing how incumbent it is upon every
person of every description to contrib
ute, at all times, to his country's wel
fare, and especially in a moment like
the present, Avhen every thing we hold

dear and sacred is so seriously threat
ened, I have finally determined to ac
cept the commission of commander-in-
chief of the armies of the United States,
with the reserve only that I shall not
be called into the field until the army
is in a situation to require my presence,
or it becomes indispensable by the ur
gency of circumstances.
" In making this reservation, 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 mention, that I must decline
having my acceptance considered as
drawing after it any immediate charge
upon the public, or that I can receiATe
any emoluments annexed to the ap
pointment before I am in a situation to
incur expense."
From this period, Washington inter
mingled the cares and attentions of
office with his agricultural pursuits.
His solicitude respecting the organiza
tion of an army which he might possi
bly be required to lead against an en
emy the most formidable in the world,
was too strong to admit of his being in
attentive to its arrangements.
Having stipulated, in accepting of
fice, that he should have a concurrent
voice in the appointment of the general
officers and general staff of the army,
he named Alexander Hamilton as in
spector-general and second in command,
with Charles Cotesworth Pinckney and
Henry Knox as major-generals. Ad
ams, who particularly disliked Hamil-

676

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

1798.

ton, and was very suspicious of his de
signs and purposes, especially if placed
in any position of power and influence,
was not at all pleased with this ar
rangement ; but he unwillingly acqui
esced. General Knox Avas dissatisfied
with the rank assigned him, and refused
to serve ; General Pinckney, on the
other hand, accepted the post offered
him. During the months of November and
December, Washington was at Phila
delphia, where he was busily occupied,
with Hamilton and Pinckney, in con
certing arrangements for raising
and organizing the army. From
this time to the end of his life, a great
part of his time was bestowed upon
military affairs. " His correspondence
Avith the secretary of war, the major-
generals, and other officers," as Mr.
Sparks states, " was unremitted and
very full, entering into details, and
communicating instructions, which de
rived value from his long experience
and perfect knowledge of the subject.
His letters during this period, if not
the most interesting to many readers,
will be regarded as models of their
kind, and as affording evidence that the
vigor and fertility of his mind had not
decreased with declining years. * * *
He never seriously believed that the
French would go to the extremity of
invading the United States. But it
had always been a maxim with him,
that a timely preparation for war af
forded the surest means for preserving
peace ; and on this occasion he acted

1798.

with as much promptitude and energy
as if the invaders had been actually on
the coast. His opinion proved to be
correct, and his prediction was veri
fied." For the French government,
when it was found that the people
would support the executive in resist
ing aggressions, soon manifested a dis
position to draAV back from their war
like attitude, since war with the United
States was the last thing which was
really desired.
While Washington was engaged in
organizing the army, actual hostilities
between the United States and France
were going on at sea. A navy depart
ment was formed by act of Con
gress in April, and on May 21st
Benjamin Stoddert of Maryland be
came the first secretary of the navy.
The frigates United States, 44, and
Constellation, 38, were launched and
fitted for sea in the summer and au
tumn succeeding ; and the whole force
authorized by a law passed on the 16th
of July, consisted of twelve frigates,
twelve ships of a force between twenty
and twenty-four guns inclusive, and six
sloops, besides galleys and revenue-cut
ters, making a total of thirty active
cruisers. Numerous privateers were
also fitted out. The chief theatre of
naval operations was the archipelago of
the West Indies, Avhere the aggressions
on our commerce by French cruisers
and privateers had originally com
menced. Of the numerous encounters
which took place, two remarkable ones
afforded a promise of the future glories

Chap. XII.]

VICTORIES OF COMMODORE TRUXTON.

677

Feb.,
1799.

of the American navy. One of these
was a very severe action, between the
American frigate Constellation, of thir
ty-eight guns, commanded by Commo
dore Truxton, and the French
frigate l'Insurgente, of forty
guns, which terminated in the
capture of the latter. Truxton, in a
subsequent engagement, compelled an
other French frigate, the Vengeance,
mounting no less than fifty-two guns,
to strike her colors, but she afterwards
made her escape in the night.
The determined attitude of the Uni
ted States soon convinced the French
Directory that the people were united
in support of the administration in its
hostile operations ; and Talleyrand sent
certain intimations to our government,
through William Vans Murray, Ameri
can minister at the Hague, as well as
by more private channels, that the
Directory were willing and desirous to
treat for peace. President Adams de
termined to avail himself of these
friendly dispositions ; and, without con
sulting his cabinet or the leading mem
bers of Congress, on the 18 th of Feb
ruary nominated to the Senate Mr.
Murray as minister plenipoten
tiary to the French republic.
Patrick Henry and Chief-justice Oliver
Ellsworth were subsequently appointed
joint ambassadors ; but the latter de
clining on account of ill-health, General
William Richardson Davie, governor of
North Carolina, was appointed in his
place. Ellsworth and Davie did not
leave the country, however, till Novem-
Vol. II. —86

1799.

ber. The peace which terminated the
quasi Avar with France was negotiated
by these envoys ; but it did not take
place till the 3d of September, 1800,
when Napoleon was at the head of af
fairs in France, as First Consul, and
Washington had passed to a higher
sphere of existence than is afforded by
the present world.
We have seen that when Washing
ton retired from the office of president,
he had promised himself a season of
leisure and repose before closing his
useful and honorable life. But it was
not so ordered by Divine Providence.
His last days were destined to be fully
occupied with public affairs.
During the years 1798 and 1799 he
was engaged in a most voluminous cor
respondence with the president, the
heads of departments, and the officers
of the provisional army, in relation to
military affairs ; and in addition to this,
his published letters show that he had
to keep up a correspondence with many
public men, both in Europe and Ameri
ca, as well as with his own connections
and dependants.
This correspondence and the ar
rangement of his papers, added to the
writing occasioned by his accounts and
the army affairs, made it necessary for
him to have assistance ; and he accord
ingly wrote to his old secretary, Mr.
Tobias Lear, with a vieAV to engaging
him in the same office again (August
2d, 1798). An extract from his letter
to Mr. Lear shows how his writing
labors had increased. " The little lei-

678

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

sure I had," he writes, " before my late
appointment (from visits, my necessary
rides, and other occurrences), to over
haul, arrange, and separate papers of
real from those of little or no value, is
now, by that event, so much encroached
upon by personal and written applica
tions for offices, and other matters inci
dental to the commander-in-chief, that,
without assistance, I must abandon all
idea of accomplishing this necessary
work, before I embark in new scenes,
which will render them more volumi
nous, and, of course, more difficult; a
measure which would be extremely irk
some to me to submit to, especially as
it respects my accounts, which are yet
in confusion ; my earnest wish and de
sire being, when I quit the stage of
human action, to leave all matters in
such a situation as to give as little trou
ble as possible to those who will have
the management of them hereafter.
" Under this view of my situation,
which is far from being an agreeable
one, and at times fills me with deep
concern when I see so little prospect of
complete extrication, I have written to
the secretary of war to be informed
whether — as my taking the field is con
tingent, and no pay or emolument will
accrue to myself until then — I am at
liberty to appoint my secretary immedi
ately, who shall be allowed his pay and
forage from the moment he joins me.
If he answers in the affirmative, can
you do this on these terms ?"
Mr. Lear accepted the appointment
of secretary, proceeded immediately to

Mount Vernon, and remained with
Washington till his decease.
With the aid of Mr. Lear, who was
thoroughly conversant with his papers
and accustomed to his methods of trans
acting business, he was enabled to keep
up his old habit of riding over the
estate, and superintending its culture,
during the early hours of the day.
" When he returned from his morning
ride," which, he remarks in a letter to
Mr. McHenry, " usually occupied him
till it was time to dress for dinner," he
generally found some newly arrived
guests, perfect strangers to him, come,
as they said, out of respect to him.
They were always received courteously;
but their number, and their constant
succession, must have made serious in
roads on the domestic quiet in which
he so much delighted. " How different
this," he says in the same letter, " from
having a few social friends at a cheerful
board." He probably recollected, with
regret, the hunting repasts with Lord
Fairfax, and the social visits of his
neighbors in the old times before the
Revolution commenced. The reader
will recollect that the first fifteen years
of his married life had been passed at
Mount Vernon, in the pleasant and ge
nial life of a southern planter, inter
changing visits Avith those who enjoyed
his intimate friendship and personal es
teem. When in such society, he was
accustomed to unbend someAvhat from
his usual dignity of deportment, and
join in the gay and buoyant feelings
of the hour.

^

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i 8*

I

k

I" ^

5

;s^f~feail

¦:0I
Chap. XII.] GEN. SULLIVAN'S DESCRIPTION OF WASHINGTON.

679

During the last two years of his life
he had but little of this species of en
joyment. His domestic circle was small.
Mrs. Washington, Miss Custis, and some
others of his adopted children, and his
old friend Mr. Lear, were at Mount
Vernon ; and some of his visitors were
such as he himself would have chosen.
But the greater part of them were com
parative strangers.
Distinguished persons sometimes came
from Europe to visit him; and these
were received with his usual hospitality.
When they sought to draw him into
conversation about his own actions, he
changed the subject, and made inquiries
about Europe and its affairs. In his
own house, although maintaining to
wards strangers great courtesy and
amenity, he always avoided discussing
on matters in which he himself had
played the most conspicuous part. At
home he was the plain, modest country
gentleman he had been before the des
tinies of an army and an empire had
been placed in his hands.
General William Sullivan, of Boston,
gives the following description of the
manners of Washington. Although the
parties here referred to were given in
Philadelphia during his residence there,
the delineation is so graphic that we do
not hesitate to introduce it in this con
nection. " Washington," says General Sullivan,
was over six feet in stature, of strong,
bony, muscular frame, without fulness
of covering, well formed and straight.
He was a man of most extraordinary

physical strength. In his own house
his action was calm, deliberate, and dig
nified, without pretension to graceful
ness, or peculiar manner, but merely
natural, and such as one would think it
should be in such a man. When walk
ing in the street, his movement had not
the soldierly air which might be ex
pected. His habitual motions had been
formed long before he took command
of the American armies, in the wars of
the interior, and in the surveying of
wilderness lands, employments in Avhich
grace and elegance were not likely to
be acquired. At the age of sixty-five,
time had done nothing towards bend
ing him out of his natural erectness.
His deportment was invariably grave ;
it was sobriety that stopped short of
sadness. His presence inspired a ven
eration, and a feeling of awe, rarely ex
perienced in the presence of any man.
His mode of speaking was slow and de
liberate ; not as though he was in search
of fine words, but that he might utter
those only adapted to his purpose. It
was the usage for all persons, in good
society, to attend Mrs. Washington's
levee every Friday evening. He was
always present. The young ladies used
to throng around him, and engage him
in conversation. There were some of
the well-remembered belles of that day
who imagined themselves to be favor
ites with him. As these were the only
opportunities which they had of con
versing with him, they were disposed
to use them. One would think, that a
gentleman and a gallant soldier, if he

680

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

could ever laugh, or dress his counte
nance in smiles, would do so when sur
rounded by young and admiring beau
ties. But this was never so ; the coun
tenance of Washington never softened,
nor changed its habitual gravity. One
who had lived always in his family,
said that his manner in public life, and
in the seclusion of most retired life, was
always the same. Being asked whether
Washington could laugh, this person
said that this was a rare occurrence,
but that one instance was remembered
when he laughed most heartily at her
narration of an incident in which she
was a party concerned, and in which
he applauded her agency. The late
General Cobb, who was long a member
of his family during the war (and who
enjoyed a laugh as much as any man
could), said that he never saw Wash
ington laugh, excepting when Colonel
Scammel (if this was the person) came
to dine at head-quarters. Scammel had
a fund of ludicrous anecdotes, and a
manner of telling them, which relaxed
even the gravity of the commander-in-
chief. *****
"During his presidency, he devoted
one hour every other Tuesday, from
three to four, to receiving visits. He
understood himself to be visited as the
President of the United States, and not
on his own account. He was not to
be seen by anybody and everybody;
but required that every one who came
should be introduced by his secretary,
or by some gentleman whom he knew
himself. He lived on the south side of

Market-street, just below Sixth. The
place of reception was the dining-room
in the rear, twenty-five or thirty feet in
length, including the bow projecting
into the garden. Mrs. Washington re
ceived her visitors in the two rooms on
the second floor, from front to rear.
" At three o'clock, or at any time
within a quarter of an hour afterwards,
the visitor was conducted to this dining-
room, from which all seats had been
removed for the time. On entering, he
saw the tall, manly figure of Washing
ton, clad in black velvet; his hair in
full dress, powdered and gathered be
hind in a large silk bag ; yellow gloves
on his hands ; holding a cocked hat
with a cockade in it, and the edges
adorned with a black feather about an
inch deep. He wore knee and shoe
buckles ; and a long sword, with a finely
wrought and polished steel hilt, which
appeared at the left hip ; the coat worn
over the blade, and appealing from un
der the folds behind. The scabbard
was white polished leather.
" He stood always in front of the fire
place, with his face towards the door of
entrance. The visitor was conducted
to him, and he required to have the
name so distinctly pronounced, that he
could hear it. He had the very un
common faculty of associating a man's
name and personal appearance so dura
bly in his memory, as to be able to call
any one by name, who made him a sec
ond visit. He received his visitor with
a dignified bow, while his hands were
so disposed of as to indicate that the

Chap. Xn.] GEN. SULLIVAN'S DESCRIPTION OF WASHINGTON.

681

salutation was not to be accompanied
with shaking hands. This ceremony
never occurred in these visits, even with
his most near friends, that no distinction
might be made.
" As visitors came in, they formed a
circle around the room. At a quarter
past three, the door was closed, and the
circle was formed for that day. He
then began on the right, and spoke to
each visitor, calling him by name, and
exchanging a few words with him.
When he had completed his circuit,
he resumed his first position, and the
visitors approached him, in succession,
bowed and retired. By four o'clock
this ceremony was over.

" On the evenings when Mrs. Wash
ington received visitors, he did not con
sider himself as visited. He was then
as a private gentleman, dressed usually
in some colored coat or waistcoat (the
only one recollected was brown, with
bright buttons), and black, on his lower
limbs. He had then neither hat nor
sword ; he moved about among the
company, conversing with one and an
other. He had, once a fortnight, an
official dinner, and select companies on
other days. He sat (it is said) at the
side, in a central position, Mrs. Wash
ington opposite ; the two ends were oc
cupied by members of his family, or by
personal friends."

CHAPTER XIII.
1799.
LAST ILLNESS, DEATH, AND CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON.
Washington in superintending the aifairs of his estate, is exposed to a severe storm and takes a cold. — He makes
light of it, and is attacked with a severe inflammation of the throat. — Detailed account of bis illne.ss and death
by Mr. Lear, his secretary. — Washington's noble conduct in the last trying hours of his life. — His death. —
Burial in the family vault at Mount Vernon. — Universal mourning. — Funeral honors throughout the country. —
Proceedings of Congress. — Speech of John Marshall. — Eesolutions of the House of Representatives. — Address
of the Senate to the president. — His answer. — Eesolutions of both houses. — Funeral honors by Congress and by
the people. — President's letter to Mrs. Washington. — Her reply. — Honors paid to Washington's memory in
France and England. — Character of Washington as drawn by Judge Marshall ; — By Jefferson ; — By Fisher
Ames.

On Thursday, December 12th, 1799,
Washington rode out to superintend as
usual the affairs of his estate. He left
the house at ten o'clock in the morn
ing, and did not return till three o'clock
in the afternoon. Soon after he went
out the weather became very inclement,
rain, hail, and snow falling alternately,
with a cold wind. When he came in,
his secretary and superintendent, Mr.
Lear, handed him some letters to frank ;
but he declined sending them to the
post-office that evening, remarking that
the weather was too bad to send a
servant with them. On Mr. Lear's
observing that he was afraid he had
got wet, he said, No, his great-coat had
kept him dry. Still, his neck was wet
and snow was hanging on his hair.
But he made light of it, and sat down

to dinner without changing his dress.
In the evening he appeared as well as
usual.* A heavy snow-storm on Friday pre
vented his riding out on the estate as
usual. He had taken cold the day be
fore by his long exposure, and he com
plained of a sore throat. This, how
ever, did not prevent his going out in
the afternoon to mark some trees not
far from the house, which were to be
cut down. He had now a hoarseness,
which increased towards the close of
the day. He spent the evening in the
parlor with Mrs. Washington and Mr

° Our authority for the details of Washington's last
illness and death is a statement carefully prepared by
Mr. Lear at the time, and published from the original in
Sparks's Life of Washington. It is the most exact and re
liable authority extant.

Chap. Xni.]

HIS ILLNESS AND DEATH.

683

Lear, perusing the newspapers, occasion
ally reading an interesting article aloud
as well as his hoarseness would per
mit, and cheerful as usual. On his re
tiring, Mr. Lear proposed that he should
take some remedy for his cold ; but he
answered, " No, you know I never take
any thing for a cold. Let it go as it
came." Between two and three o'clock on
Saturday morning he had an ague fit,
but would not permit the family to be
disturbed in their rest till daylight.
He breathed with great difficulty, and
was hardly able to utter a word intelli
gibly. At his desire he was bled by
Mr. Rawlins, one of the overseers. An
attempt to take a simple remedy for a
cold showed that he could not swallow
a drop, but seemed convulsed and al
most suffocated in his efforts. Dr.
Craik, the family physician, was sent
for and arrived about nine o'clock, who
put a blister on his throat, took some
more blood from him, and ordered a
gargle of vinegar and sage tea, and in
halation of the fumes of vinegar and
hot water. Two consulting physicians,
Dr. Brown and Dr. Dick were called
in, who arrived about three o'clock,
and after a consultation he was bled a
third time. The patient could now
swallow a little ; and calomel and tartar
emetic were administered without any
effect. About half-past four o'clock he de
sired Mr. Lear to call Mrs. Washington
to his bedside ; when he requested her
to bring from his desk two wills, and

on receiving them he gave her one,
which he observed was useless as be
ing superseded by the other, and de
sired her to burn it, which she did, and
put the other into her closet.
" After this was done," says Mr. Lear,
in concluding his touching narrative,
" 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 dis
order would prove fatal. Do you ar
range and record all my late military
letters and papers. Arrange my ac
counts and settle my books, as you
know more about them than any one
else, and let Mr. Rawlins finish record
ing my other letters, which he has
begun.' I told him this should be
done. He then asked if I recollected
any thing 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 nothing, which it
was essential for him to do, but that I
hoped he was not so near his end. He
observed, smiling, that he certainly
Avas, and that, as it was the debt which
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 dis
tress, from the difficulty of breathing,
and frequently changed his posture in
the bed. On these occasions I lay upon
the bed, and endeavored to raise him
and turn him with as much ease as pos
sible. He appeared penetrated with
gratitude for my attentions, and often

684

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

said, 'I am afraid I shall fatigue you
too much ;' and upon my assuring him
that I could feel nothing but a wish to
give him ease, he replied, ' Well, it is a
debt we must pay to each other, and I
hope when you want aid of this kind
you will find it.'
"About five o'clock Dr. Craik came
again into the room, and, upon going to
the bedside, the general said to him,
'Doctor, 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, but could not utter a word.
He retired from the bedside and sat by
the fire, absorbed in grief.
" Between five and six o'clock Dr.
Craik, Dr. Dick, and Dr. Brown came
again into the room, and with Dr. Craik
went to the bed, when Dr. Craik asked
him if he could sit up in the bed. He
held out his hand and I raised him up.
He then said to the physicians, ' I feel
myself going ; I thank you for your at
tentions, but I pray you to take no
more trouble about me. Let me go off
quietly. I cannot last long.' They
found that all which had been done
was without effect. He lay down again,
and all retired except Dr. Craik. He
continued in the same situation, uneasy
and restless, but without complaining ;
frequently asking what hour it was.
When I helped him to move at this
time, he did not speak, but looked at
me with strong expressions of gratitude.
"About eight o'clock the physicians
came again into the room, and applied

blisters and cataplasms of wheat bran
to his legs and feet ; after Avhich they
went out, except Dr. Craik, without a
ray of hope. I went out about this
time, and wrote a line to Mr. Law and
Mr. Peter, requesting them to come
with their wives (Mrs. Washington's
grand-daughters), as soon as possible to
Mount Vernon.
" About ten o'clock 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 minutes before he ex
pired (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 sitting at the
foot of the bed, asked, with a firm and
collected voice, ' Is he gone V I could
not speak, but held up my hand as a
signal that he was no more. "Tis well,'

Dec. 14,
1799.

(CHIEF JU5TICE. OF THE UNITED STATES.)

Joints cm.. Fry Sc C? PnblialLeTs , "jMevr "Yot lc .

rare^ ,iUJM9 byJSTt/ispn.. Iry JkCftn. ehe.dUf/tAi//neaafeLoSLi[rutoKiirt

Chap. Xm.] HIS PATIENCE, FORTITUDE, AND RESIGNATION.

685

said she, in the same voice : ' all is over
now. I shall soon follow him. I have
no more trials to pass through.'
" During his whole illness," adds Mr.
Lear, "he spoke but seldom, and with
great difficulty and distress, and in so
low and broken a voice, as at times
hardly to be understood. His patience,
fortitude, and resignation never forsook
him for a moment. In all his distress,
he uttered not a sigh nor a complaint ;
always endeavoring, from a sense of
duty, as it appeared, to take what was
offered him, and to do as he was desired
by the physicians."
By this simple and touching record
of the last moments of Washington, it
will be perceiAred that his conduct, in
the last trying scene, was in all respects
consistent with his whole life and char
acter. His habitual serenity and self-
command, and the ever-present sense of
duty, are apparent through the whole.
He died as he had lived, a hero in the
highest sense of the word, and a true
Christian. The deep and wide-spreading grief
occasioned by this melancholy event,
assembled a great concourse of people
for the purpose of paying the last trib
ute of respect to the first of Americans ;
and on Wednesday, the 18th of De
cember, his body, attended by military
honors, and with religious and masonic
ceremonies, was deposited in the family
vault on his estate.
In December, 1837, the remains of
the great father of our nation,, after a
slumber of thirty-eight years, were
Vol. IL— 87

again exposed by the circumstance of
placing his body once, and forever,
within the marble sarcophagus made
by Mr. Struthers, of Philadelphia. The
body, as Mr. Struthers related, was still
in a wonderful state of preservation ;
the high pale brow wore a calm and
serene expression, and the lips, pressed
together, had a grave and solemn smile.
When intelligence reached Congress
of the death of Washington, they in
stantly adjourned until the next day,
when John Marshall, then a member
of the House of Representatives, and
afterwards chief-justice of the United
States and biographer of Washington,
addressed the speaker in the following
words :
" The melancholy event which was
yesterday announced 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 affec
tionate and afflicted people.
"If, sir, it had even not been usual
openly to testify respect for the mem
ory of those whom Heaven has selected
as its instruments for dispensing good
to man, yet such has been the uncom
mon worth, and such the extraordinary
incidents which have marked the life of
him whose loss we all deplore, that the
whole American nation, impelled by
the same feelings, would call with one
voice for a public manifestation of that

686

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

sorrow, Avhich is so deep and so uni
versal. " More than any other individual, and
as much as to any one individual Avas
possible, has he contributed to found
this, our wide-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 into the citizen.
" When the debility of our federal
system had become manifest, and the
bonds which connected this vast conti
nent were dissolving, we have seen him
the chief of those patriots who formed
for us a constitution, which, by preserv
ing the Union, will, I trust, substantiate
and perpetuate those blessings which
our Revolution had promised to be
stow. " In obedience to the 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 tempestu
ous 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 es
tablishment of that system of policy
which will, I trust, yet preserve our
peace, our honor, and our independ
ence. Having been twice unanimously
chosen the chief magistrate of a free
people, we have seen him, at a time
when his re-election with universal suf

frage could not be doubted, afford to
the world a rare instance of modera
tion, by withdrawing from his high sta
tion to the peaceful walks of private
life. However the public confidence
may change, and the public affections
fluctuate with respect to others, with
respect to him they have, in war and
in peace, in public and in private life,
been as steady as his own firm mind,
and as constant as his own exalted vir
tues. Let us then, Mr. Speaker, pay
the last tribute of respect and affection
to our departed friend. Let the grand
council of the nation display those sen
timents which the nation feels. For
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 president in condolence of this
mournful event.
" Resolved, That 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 committee, in con
junction with one from the Senate, be
appointed, to consider on the most suit
able manner of paying honor to the
memory of the man first in war, first in
peace, and first in the hearts of his fel
low-citizens." The Senate, on this melancholy occa
sion, addressed to the president the fol
lowing letter :
"The Senate of the United States
respectfully take leave, sir, to express
to you their deep regret for the loss

Chap. XIII.] ADDRESS OF THE SENATE TO THE PRESIDENT.

687

their country sustains in the death of
General 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. Per
mit 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 common calamity to the
world. Our country mourns a father.
The Almighty Disposer of human
events has taken from us our great
est benefactor and ornament. It be
comes us to submit with reverence
to Him 'who maketh darkness his
pavilion.' " With patriotic pride we review the
life of our Washington, and compare
its events with those of other countries
who have been pre-eminent in fame.
Ancient and modern times are dimin
ished before him. Greatness and guilt
have too often been allied ; but his fame
is whiter than it is brilliant. The de
stroyers of nations stood abashed at the
majesty of his virtues. It reproved the
intemperance 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
increasing weight of honor ; he has de
posited it safely where misfortune can
not tarnish it, where malice cannot blast
it. Favored of Heaven, he departed
without exhibiting the weakness of hu
manity. Magnanimous in death, the

darkness of the grave could not obscure
his brightness.
" Such was the man whom we de
plore. Thanks to God, his glory is con
summated. 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 patri
otic 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."
To this address the president returned
the following answer :
"I receive with the most respectful
and affectionate sentiments, in this im
pressive address, the obliging expres
sions of your regret for the loss our
country has sustained in the death of
her most esteemed, beloved, and ad
mired citizen.
"In the multitude of my thoughts
and recollections on this melancholy
event, you will permit me to say, that
I have seen him in the days of adver
sity, in some of the scenes of his deepest
distress, and most trying perplexities.
I have also attended him in the highest
elevation and most prosperous felicity,
with uniform admiration of his wisdom,
moderation, and constancy.
"Among all our original associates
in that memorable league of this conti
nent in 1774, which first expressed the
sovereign will of a free nation in Amer
ica, he was the only one remaining in
the general government. Although with
a constitution more enfeebled than his,

688

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

at an age when he thought it necessary
to prepare for retirement, I feel myself
alone bereaved of my last brother ; yet
I derive a strong consolation from the
unanimous disposition which appears in
all ages and classes to mingle their sor
rows with mine, on this common calam
ity to the world.
" The life of our Washington cannot
suffer by a comparison with those of
other countries, who have been most
celebrated and exalted by fame. The
attributes and decorations of royalty
could only have served to eclipse the
majesty of those virtues which made
him, from being a modest citizen, a
more resplendent luminary. Misfor
tune, had he lived, could hereafter have
sullied his glory only with those super
ficial minds, who, believing that charac
ter and actions are marked by success
alone, rarely deserve to enjoy it. Mal
ice could never blast his honor, and
envy made him a singular exception to
her universal rule. For himself he had
lived long enough to life and to glory ;
for his fellow-citizens, if their prayers
could have been answered, he would
have been immortal; for me, his de
parture is at a most unfortunate mo
ment. Trusting, however, in the wise
and righteous dominion of Providence
over the passions of men and the results
of their actions, as well as over their
lives, nothing remains for me but hum
ble resignation.
" His example is now complete ; and
it will teach wisdom and virtue to
magistrates, citizens, and men, not only

in the present age, but in future genera
tions, as long as our history shall be
read. If a Trajan found a Pliny, a
Marcus Aurelius can never Avant biog
raphers, eulogists, or historians."
The committee of both houses ap
pointed to devise the mode by which
the nation should express its grief, re
ported the following resolutions, which
were unanimously adopted :
"That a marble monument be erect
ed by the United States at the capitol
of the city of Washington, and that the
family of General Washington be re
quested to permit his body to be de
posited under it, and that the monu
ment be so designed as to commemorate
the great events of his military and
political life.
" That there be a funeral from Con
gress Hall to the German Lutheran
church, in memory of General George
Washington, on Thursday the 26th in
stant ; and that an oration be prepared
at the request of Congress, to be deliv
ered before both houses that day ; and
that the president of the Senate and
speaker of the House of Representa
tives, be desired to request one of the
members of Congress to prepare and
deliver the same.
" That the president of the United
States be requested to direct a copy of
these resolutions to be transmitted to
Mrs. Washington, assuring her of the
profound respect Congress will ever
bear to her person and character, of
their condolence on the late affecting
dispensation of Providence, and entreat-

Chap. XIH.]

HONORS PAID TO HIS MEMORY.

689

ing her assent to the interment of the
remains of General Washington in the
manner expressed in the first resolu
tion. " That the president be requested to
issue his proclamation, notifying the
people throughout the United States
the recommendation contained in the
third resolution."
These resolutions passed both houses
unanimously, and those which would
admit of immediate execution were car
ried into effect. The whole nation ap
peared in mourning. The funeral pro
cession was grand and solemn, and the
eloquent oration, which was delivered
on the occasion by General Lee, was
heard with profound attention and with
deep interest.
Throughout the United States simi
lar marks of affliction were exhibited.
In every part of the continent funeral
orations were delivered, and the best
talents of the nation were devoted to
an. expression of the nation's grief.
To the letter of the president which
transmitted to Mrs. Washington the
resolutions of Congress, and of which
his secretary was the bearer, that lady
answered : " Taught by the great exam
ple which I have so long had before
me, never to oppose my private wishes
to the public will, I must consent to the
request made by Congress which you
have had the goodness to transmit to
me ; — and in doing this, I need not, I
cannot say, what a sacrifice of individ
ual feeling I make to a sense of public
duty."

On receiving intelligence of the death
of Washington, Napoleon, then first con
sul of France, issued the following order
of the day to the army : " Washington
is dead. This great man fought against
tyranny : he established the liberty of
his country. His memory will always
be dear to the French people, as it will
be to all freemen of the two worlds ;
and especially to French soldiers, who,
like him and the American soldiers,
have combated for liberty and equali
ty." Napoleon ordered that during ten
days black crape should be suspended
from all the standards and flags through
out the republic. On the 9th of Feb
ruary, 1800, a splendid funeral solem
nity took place in the Champ de Mars ;
and a funeral oration in honor of
Washington was pronounced by M.
de la Fontaines, in the Hotel des In
valides, at which the first consul and
the civil and military authorities were
present.* The British Admiral in command of
the fleet lying at Torbay, on receiving
the news of Washington's death, hon
ored his memory by lowering his flag
to half-mast ; and his example was fol
lowed by the whole fleet.f
Judge Marshall, who had enjoyed
the advantage of an intimate personal
acquaintance with Washington, who
was one of his most steadfast political
supporters, and whose able biography
shows a thorough appreciation of his
extraordinary abilities and virtues, gives

° Sparks, Life of Washington.

t Idem.

690

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VT.

the folio Aving summary view of his char
acter :
" General Washington was rather
above the common size, his frame was
robust, and his constitution vigorous —
capable of enduring great fatigue, and
requiring a considerable degree of ex
ercise for the preservation of his health.
His exterior created in the beholder the
idea of strength, united with manly
gracefulness. "His manners were rather reserved
than free, though they partook nothing
of that dryness and sternness which
accompany reserve when carried to an
extreme ; and on all proper occasions,
he could relax sufficiently to show how
highly he was gratified by the charms
of conversation, and the pleasures of
society. His person and whole deport
ment exhibited an unaffected and in
describable dignity, unmingled Avith
haughtiness, of which all who ap
proached him were sensible ; and the
attachment of those who possessed his
friendship and enjoyed his intimacy was
ardent, but always respectful.
"His temper was humane, benevo
lent, and conciliatory ; but there was a
quickness in his sensibility to any thing
apparently offensive, which experience
had taught him to watch, and to cor
rect. "In the management of his private
affairs he exhibited an exact yet liberal
economy. His funds were not prodi
gally AA'asted on capricious and ill-ex
amined schemes, nor refused to beneficial
though costly improvements. They re

mained therefore competent to that
expensive establishment which his rep
utation, added to a hospitable temper,
had in some measure imposed upon
him ; and to those donations which real
distress has a right to claim from opu
lence. "He made no pretensions to that
vivacity which fascinates, or to that wit
which dazzles, and frequently imposes
on the understanding. More solid than
brilliant, judgment, rather than genius,
constituted the most prominent feature
of his character.
"Without making ostentatious pro
fessions of religion, he was a sincere
believer in the Christian faith, and a
truly devout man.
" As a military man, he was brave,
enterprising, and cautious. That ma
lignity which has sought to strip him
of all the higher qualities of a general,
has conceded to him personal courage,
and a firmness of resolution which
neither dangers nor difficulties could
shake. But candor will allow him
other great and valuable endowments.
If his military course does not abound
with splendid achievements, it exhibits
a series of judicious measures adapted
to circumstances, which probably saved
his country.
" Placed, without having studied the
theory, or been taught in the school of
experience the practice of war, at the
head of an undisciplined, ill-organized
multitude, Avhich was impatient of the
restraints and unacquainted with the
ordinary duties of a camp, without the

Chap. XIII.]

DELINEATION OF HIS CHARACTER.

691

aid of officers possessing those lights
which the commander-in-chief was yet
to acquire, it would have been a miracle
indeed had his conduct been absolutely
faultless. But, possessing an energetic
and distinguishing mind, on which the
lessons of experience were never lost,
his errors, if he committed any, were
quickly repaired; and those measures
which the state of things rendered most
advisable, were seldom, if ever, neg
lected. Inferior to his adversary in the
numbers, in the equipment, and in the
discipline of his troops, it is evidence
of real merit that no great and decisive
advantages were ever obtained over
him, and that the opportunity to strike
an important blow never passed away
unused. He has been termed the Amer
ican Fabius ; but those who compare
his actions with his means, will perceive
at least as much of Marcellus as of
Fabius in his character. He could not
have been more enterprising, without
endangering the cause he defended, nor
have put more to hazard, without in
curring justly the imputation of rash
ness. Not relying upon those chances
which sometimes give a favorable issue
to attempts apparently desperate, his
conduct was regulated by calculations
made upon the capacities of his army,
and the real situation of his country.
When called a second time to command
the armies of the United States, a
change of circumstances had taken
place, and he meditated a correspond
ing change of conduct. In modelling
the army of 1798, he sought for men

distinguished for their boldness of ex
ecution, not less than for their prudence
iu council, and contemplated a system
of continued attack. ' The enemy,' said
the general in his private letters, ' must
never be permitted to gain foothold on
our shores.'
" In his civil administration, as in his
military career, ample and repeated
proofs were exhibited of that practical
good sense, of that sound judgment,
which is perhaps the most rare, and is
certainly the most valuable, quality of
the human mind. Devoting himself to
the duties of his station, and pursuing
no object distinct from the public good,
he was accustomed to contemplate at a
distance those critical situations in
which the United States might prob
ably be placed; and to digest, before
the occasion required action, the line ot
conduct which it would be proper to
observe. Taught to distrust first im
pressions, he sought to acquire all the
information which was attainable, and
to hear, without prejudice, all the
reasons which could be urged for or
against a particular measure. His own
judgment was suspended until it became
necessary to determine ; and his de
cisions, thus maturely made, were sel
dom if ever to be shaken. His conduct
therefore was systematic, and the great
objects of his administration were steadi
ly pursued.
"Respecting, as the first magistrate
in a free government must ever do, the
real and deliberate sentiments of the
people, their gusts of passion passed

692

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

over, without ruffling the smooth sur
face of his mind. Trusting to the re
flecting good sense of the nation for
approbation and support, he had the
magnanimity to pursue its real interests,
in opposition to its temporary preju
dices ; and, though far from being re
gardless of popular favor, he could
never stoop to retain, by deserving to
lose it. In more instances than one,
we find him committing his whole pop
ularity to hazard, and pursuing steadily,
in opposition to a torrent which would
have overwhelmed a man of ordinary
firmness, that course which had been
dictated by a sense of duty.
"In speculation, he was a real republi
can, devoted to the constitution of his
country, and to that system of equal
political rights on which it is founded.
But between a balanced republic and a
democracy, the difference is like that
between order and chaos. Real lib
erty, he thought, was to be preserved
only by preserving the authority of the
laws, and maintaining the energy of
government. Scarcely did society pre
sent two characters which, in his opin
ion, less resembled each other, than a
patriot and a demagogue.
" No man has ever appeared upon
the theatre of public action, whose
integrity was more incorruptible, or
whose principles were more perfectly
free from the contamination of those
selfish and unworthy passions which
find their nourishment in the conflicts
of party. Having no views which re
quired concealment, his real and avow

ed motives were the same; and his
whole correspondence does not furnish
a single case from which even an enemy
would infer that he was capable, under
any circumstances, of stooping to the
employment of duplicity. No truth
can be uttered with more confidence,
than, that his ends were always upright,
and his means always pure. He ex
hibits the rare example of a politician
to whom wiles were absolutely un
known, and whose professions to for
eign governments, and to his own coun
trymen, were always sincere. In him
was fully exemplified the real distinc
tion which forever exists between wis
dom and cunning, and the importance
as well as truth of the maxim, that
' honesty is the best policy.'
"If Washington possessed ambition,
that passion was, in his bosom, so
regulated by principles, or controlled
by circumstances, that it was neither
vicious nor turbulent. Intrigue was
never employed as the means of its
gratification, nor was personal aggran
dizement its object. The various high
and important stations to which he was
called by the public voice, were un
sought by himself; and, in consenting
to fill them, he seems rather to have
yielded to a general conviction that
the interests of his country would be
thereby promoted, than to an avidity
for power.
" Neither the extraordinary partiality
of the American people, the extrava
gant praises which were bestowed upon
him, nor the inveterate opposition and

Chap. XHI.]

EULOGY BY FISHER AMES.

693

malignant calumnies which he encoun
tered, had any visible influence upon
his conduct. The cause is to be looked
for in the texture of his mind.
" In him, that innate and unassuming
modesty which adulation would have
offended, which the voluntary plaudits
of millions could not betray into in
discretion, and which never obtruded
upon others his claims to superior con
sideration, was happily blended with a
high and correct sense of personal dig
nity, and with a just consciousness of
that respect which is due to station.
Without exertion, he could maintain
the happy medium between that arro
gance which wounds, and that facility
which allows the office to be degraded
in the person who fills it.
" It is impossible to contemplate the
great events which have occurred in
the United States under the auspices of
Washington, without ascribing them, in
some measure, to him. If we ask the
causes of the prosperous issue of a war,
against the successful termination of
which there were so many probabili
ties ; of the good which was produced,
and the ill which was avoided, during
an administration fated to contend with
the strongest prejudices that a combi
nation of circumstances and of passions
could produce ; of the constant favor
of the great mass of his fellow-citizens,
and of the confidence which, to the last
moment of his life, they reposed in
him ; the answer, so far as these causes
may be found in his character, will
furnish a lesson well meriting the at-
Vol. IL— 88

tention of those who are candidates for
political fame.
"Endowed by nature with a sound
judgment, and an accurate discrimina
ting mind, he feared not that laborious
attention which made him perfectly
master of those subjects, in all their
relations, on which he was to decide;
and this essential quality was guided
by an unvarying sense of moral right,
which would tolerate the employment,
only, of those means that would bear
the most rigid examination ; by a fair
ness of intention which neither sought
nor required disguise ; and by a purity
of virtue which was not only untainted,
but unsuspected."
The eulogies of Washington, at the
time of his death, were almost as nu
merous as the towns and cities of the
republic ; for everywhere funeral hon
ors were paid to his memory. The fol
lowing, by the celebrated orator, Fisher
Ames, pronounced before the legisla
ture of Massachusetts, is as remarkable
for its conciseness as for its just and
comprehensive estimate of Washing
ton's character.
" It is not impossible," he said, " that
some will affect to consider the honors
paid to this great patriot by the nation
as excessive, idolatrous, and degrading
to freemen who are all equal. I an
swer, that refusing to virtue its legiti
mate honors would not prevent their
being lavished in future on any worth
less and ambitious favorite. If this
day's example should have its natural
effect, it will be salutary. Let such

694

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

honors be so conferred only when, in
future, they shall be so merited ; then
the public sentiment will not be mis
led, nor the principles of a just equality
corrupted. The best evidence of repu
tation is a man's whole life. We have
now, alas ! all of Washington's before
us. There has scarcely appeared a
really great man whose character has
been more admired in his lifetime, or
less correctly understood by his ad
mirers. When it is comprehended, it
is no easy task to delineate its excellen
ces in such a manner as to give the por
trait both interest and resemblance ;
for it requires thought and study to un
derstand the true ground of the superi
ority of his character over many others,
whom he resembled in the principles of
action and even in the manner of act
ing. But perhaps he excels all the
great men that ever lived, in the steadi
ness of his adherence to his maxims of
life, and in the uniformity of all his
conduct to those maxims. Those max
ims, though wise, were yet not so
remarkable for their wisdom as for
their authority over his life ; for if
there were any errors in his judgment
— and he displayed as few as any
man — we know of no blemishes in his
virtue. He was the patriot without
reproach : he loved his country well
enough to hold his success in serving
it an ample recompense. Thus far, self-
love and love of country coincided ;
but when his country needed sacrifices
that no other man could, or perhaps
would be willing to make, he did not

even hesitate. This was virtue in its
most exalted character. More than
once he put his fame at hazard, when
he had reason to think it would be
sacrificed, at least in this age. Two
instances cannot be denied : when the
army was disbanded, and again when
he stood, like Leonidas at the pass of
Thermopylae, to defend our independ
ence against France.
" It is indeed almost as difficult to
draAv his character as to draw the por
trait of virtue. The reasons are simi
lar ; our ideas of nioral excellence are
obscure, because they are complex, and
Ave are obliged to resort to illustra
tions. Washington's example is the
happiest to show what virtue is ; and
to delineate his character, we naturally
expatiate on the beauty of virtue ;
much must be felt and much imagined.
His pre-eminence is not so much to be
seen in the display of any one virtue,
as in the possession of them all, and in
the practice of the most difficult.
Hereafter, therefore, his character must
be studied before it will be striking,
and then it will be admitted as a model
— a precious one to a free republic.
" It is no less difficult to speak of his
talents. They were adapted to lead,
without dazzling mankind, and to draw
forth and employ the talents of others
without being misled by them. In this
he was certainly superior, that he nei
ther mistook nor misapplied his own.
His great modesty and reserve would
have concealed them, if great occasions
had not called them forth ; and then,

Chap. XIII.]

EULOGY BY FISHER AMES.

695

as he never spoke from the affectation
to shine, nor acted from any sinister
motives, it is from their effects only
that we are to judge of their greatness
and extent. In public trusts, where
men, acting conspicuously, are cautious,
and in those private concerns where
few conceal or resist their weakness,
Washington was uniformly great, pur
suing right conduct from right maxims.
His talents were such as to assist a
sound judgment and ripen with it. His
prudence was consummate, and seemed
to take the direction of his powers and
passions ; for, as a soldier, he was more
solicitous to avoid mistakes that might
be fatal than to perform exploits that
are brilliant ; and, as a statesman, to
adhere to just principles, however old,
than to pursue novelties ; and therefore,
iu both characters, his qualities were
singularly adapted to the interest, and
were tried in the greatest perils, of the
country. His habits of inquiry were so
far remarkable that he was never satis
fied with investigating, nor desisted
from it, so long as he had less than all
the light that he could obtain upon a
subject, and then he made his decision
without bias.
" This command over the partialities
that so generally stop men short, or
turn them aside, in their pursuit of
truth, is one of the chief causes of his
unvaried course of right conduct in so
many difficult scenes, where every hu
man action must be presumed to err.
If he had strong passions, he had
learned to subdue them, and to be

moderate and mild. If he had weak
nesses, he concealed them, which is
rare, and excluded them from the gov
ernment of his temper and conduct,
which is still more rare. If he loved
fame, he never made improper compli
ances for what is called popularity.
The fame he enjoyed is of the kind that
will last forever ; yet it was rather the
effect than the motive of his conduct.
Some future Plutarch will search for a
parallel to his character. Epaminondas
is, perhaps, the brightest name of all
antiquity. Our Washington resembled
him in the purity and ardor of his pa
triotism ; and, like him, he first exalted
the glory of his country. There, it is
to be hoped, the parallel ends, for
Thebes fell with Epaminondas. But
such comparisons cannot be pursued
far without departing from the simili
tude. For we shall find it as difficult
to compare great men as great rivers :
some we admire for the length and ra
pidity of their currents and the gran
deur of their cataracts ; others, for the
majestic silence and fulness of their
streams ; we cannot bring them to
gether, to measure the difference of
their waters. The unambitious life of
Washington, declining fame yet court
ed by it, seemed, like the Ohio, to
choose its long way through solitudes,
diffusing fertility ; or like his own Po
tomac, widening and deepening its
channel as it approaches the sea, and
displaying most the usefulness and se
renity of its greatness towards the end
of its course. Such a citizen would do

696

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

[Book VI.

honor to any country. The constant
veneration and affection of his country
will show that it was worthy of such a
citizen. " However his military fame may ex
cite the wonder of mankind, it is chiefly
by his civil magistracy that his exam
ple will instruct them. Great generals
have arisen in all ages of the world,
and perhaps most of them in despotism
and darkness. In times of violence and
convulsion they rise, by the force of the
whirlwind, high enough to ride in it,
and direct the storm. Like meteors,
they glare on the black clouds with a
splendor that, while it dazzles and ter
rifies, makes nothing visible but the
darkness. The fame of heroes is in
deed growing vulgar : they multiply in
every long war ; they stand in history
and thicken in their ranks almost as
undistinguished as their own soldiers.

" But such a chief magistrate as
Washington appears like the pole-star
in a clear sky, to direct the skilful
statesman. His presidency will form an
epoch, and be distinguished as the age
of Washington. Already it assumes
its high place in the political region.
Like the milky-way, it whitens along
its allotted portion of the hemisphere.
The latest generations of men will sur
vey, through the telescope of history,
the space where so many. virtues blend
their rays, and delight to separate them
into groups and distinct virtues. As
the best illustration of them, the living
monument, to which the first of patri
ots would have chosen to consign his
fame, it is my earnest prayer to Heaven
that our country may subsist even to
that late day in the plenitude of its lib
erty and happiness, and mingle its mild
glory with Washington's."

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APPENDIX.

MARTHA WASHINGTON.
Martha Dandbidge was born in New Kent
county, Virginia, in May, 1732, the same year
with Washington. Her family was of the highest
respectability. Martha first comes under our
notice as a reigning belle at the court of Gov
ernor Dinwiddie and Governor Gooch. Her
youth, beauty, and fascinating manners drew
around her a large circle of admirers, among
whom were many sons of aristocratic families,
suitors for her hand.
In the winter of 1748, says Mrs. Sigourney,*
the levees of Governor Gooch opened with un
wonted splendor at Williamsburg.
Many of the members of Assembly took with
them the elite of their families, and this session
was graced by the presence of several young
and high-born maidens, who had never before
been presented at court. One among them
was evidently the theme of general admiration.
Some of the statelier matrons criticised her as
deficient in height. But, though somewhat
beneath the middle stature, she possessed that
rounded and exquisite symmetry which the
early historians have ascribed to the fascinating
Ann Boleyn, while her pure complexion and clear
eye were finely contrasted with dark, glossy,
and redundant hair. Still it was found difficult,
by common observers, to analyze her beauty ;
for it rested not on any predominant gift, but
on the consent of the whole person in loveli
ness. Grace of movement and melody of voice
were among its more apparent elements. The
slight rose-leaf tinge upon her cheek was
• The Lady of Mount Vernon. See Myrtis and other
Etchings and Sketchings. By Mrs. Sigourney.

heightened when she spoke, or, if the subject
embodied feeling, deepened to a flush of car
mine, disappearing as rapidly as it came. But
what chiefly won old and young, was a bland
cheerfulness, the silent history of the soul's hap
piness, and an expressive smile, inspiring every
beholder with confidence, like a beam from the
temple of Truth. Though she had scarcely
numbered twice eight summers, there was about
her a womanly dignity which chastened the
most forward admiration into respect.
Among those who paid their devoirs to
this lovely young creature was Colonel Custis,
one of the most accomplished cavaliers of his
time. His tall and elegant form was adapted to
athletic exercises, to the control of the spirited
charger, or the show of military evolution. Still,
he appeared to uncommon advantage in the
minuet, which was then executed among the
higher circles in the " Ancient Dominion" with
all the precision and grace by which it was
characterized at the court of Louis Fourteenth.
Yet it was observed that this favorite dance,
when shared with the lady whom he admired,
was far less prized than the conversations that
followed ; when, with eyes intensely fixed, as if
to read the soul, he recorded each fragment of
a word, or the slightest suffusion of countenance
in his heart of hearts.
The Honorable John Custis, of Arlington,
held at that period the office of king's counsellor,
and was a man of wealth and distinction. His
attendance at Williamsburg during the present
session had been somewhat interrupted by ill-
health ; and, while there, the grave and absorb
ing duties of the statesman had left him igno
rant what reigning beauties had produced sensa
tion at court. Not long after the suspension of

698

APPENDIX.

the levees, and the return of the burgesses to
their homes, the counsellor requested an inter
view in liis private cabinet with his son, Colonel
Daniel Park Custis. There was a singular mix
ture of gravity and condescension in his manner
as he desired him to be seated, and thus opened
the discourse :
" I have for some time wished to see you on
an interesting subject. Though still young, I
consider you to have arrived at years of discre
tion." The colonel bowed.
" You know Colonel Byrd, of Westover, to
be my very particular friend. His daughter is
one of the most beautiful and accomplished
ladies in Virginia. It is my desire that you
form with her a matrimonial alliance."
" My dear sir, I have not the vanity of sup
posing that I could render myself acceptable to
Miss Byrd."
" No objection on that head. Her father
and myself have settled it. Indeed, I may as
well tell you that we have had numberless con
versations on this business, and that you have
both been as good as betrothed from the cradle.
Think, my son, of the advantages of such a con
nection, the contiguity of estates, the amount
of wealth and power that will thus ultimately
pass into your hands."
"Affection, sir, seems to me the only bond
that can hallow so intimate a union. Not even
my reverence for the best of fathers, could in
duce me to enter it from mercenary motives."
" Mercenary, sir ! mercenary ! Who ever be
fore dared to couple that word with my name ?"
And the counsellor raised himself to his full
height, and fixed a kindling eye upon his son.
Then, pacing the apartment a few turns, he re
sumed his theme. " You speak of the affection
that should precede marriage. Have the good
ness to understand that the misplacing of yours
may materially affect your patrimonial inherit
ance." He waited for a reply, but in vain.
" May I inquire if you have thought fit thus
early to decide seriously on the preference of
any young lady as a companion for life ?"
" I have, sir."
" May I be favored with a knowledge of her
name ?"
" Miss Martha Dandridge."

The high-spirited gentlemen parted in mutual
resentment. But the reflection of a night re
stored both to better feelings. The father be
gan to excuse the son by recalling the warmth
of his own early attachment ; while the son
referred the testiness of the father to the sudden
disappointment of a long-cherished plan, and
the querulousness of feeble health. Still, as it
usually happens with proud men, neither wonld
make the first advance to open his heart to the
other ; and a slight, though clearly perceptible
shade of coldness gathered over their inter
course. So this interview served as a stimulant
to the progress of matrimony. The temporary
reserve of the father, throwing something like
gloom over the paternal mansion, heightened
the frequency and fervor of the visits of the
lover. The gentle object of his preference im
agined no barrier to an alliance where no ob
vious inequality was supposed to exist ; and he
forbore to communicate what would only oc
casion perplexity, and what, he trusted, would
soon vanish like the " baseless fabric of a vision."
According to his happy prescience, the dignified
counsellor gave his consent to the nuptials, and
the flower of the court of Williamsburg became
a bride in the blush of her seventeenth summer.
The residence of the new pair was a retired
and romantic mansion on the banks of the
Pamumkey. It reared its snowy walls amid a
profusion of vines and flowering trees. Broad
plantations, and the wealth of Virginian forests,
variegated the scenery. Rural occupations, and
the delight of each other's society, spread for
them what they deemed a paradise. In visits
to their favored dwelling, the counsellor learned
to appreciate the treasure of his new daughter.
Her excellence, in the responsible sphere to
which she was introduced, won his regard ; and,
with the ingenuousness of an honorable mind,
when convinced of error, he sought every op
portunity of distinguishing that merit to which
he had once done injustice. When he saw the
grace and courtesy with which she maintained
a generous hospitality; the judgment, far be
yond her years, displayed in the management
of her servants ; the energy, the early rising,
the cheerful alacrity that regulated and beauti
fied the internal mechanism of her family ; the

APPENDIX.

699

disinterestedness with which she forgot herself
and sought the good of others; but, above all,
her untiring devotion to her husband, and to
the little ones who sprang up around her, he
gloried in the sentiment of his son, that strong
personal affection should form the basis of matri
monial happiness.
But this scene of exquisite felicity was not
long to last. The death of the two oldest chil
dren prepared the way for the deeper loss of
the adored husband and father. Yet in the
trying situation of a young, beautiful, and weal
thy widow, she continued to evince unvarying
discretion, and faithfully to discharge every im
portant duty.
It was in the spring of 1758 that two gentle
men, on horseback, attended by a servant,
wound their way slowly through the luxuriant
scenery that diversifies .the county of New Kent.
The conspicuous personage of the group was
tall, graceful, and commanding, in a rich mili
tary undress, and apparently about twenty-five
years of age. He would have been a model for
the sculptor when Rome was in her best days.
His companion was an elderly man in a plain
garb, who, by the familiarity with which he
pointed out surrounding objects, would seem to
be taking his daily round upon his own estate.
As they approached the avenue to an antique
mansion, he placed his hand upon the rein of his
companion :
" Nay, Colonel Washington, let it never be
said that you passed the house of your father's
friend without dismounting. I must insist on
the honor of detaining you as my guest."
" Thanks to you, my dear sir ; but I ride in
haste, the bearer of dispatches to our gov
ernor in Williamsburg, which may not brook
delay." " Is this the noble steed which was given you
by the dying Braddock on the fatal field of
Monongahela? and this the servant he be
queathed you at the same time ?"
Washington answered in the affirmative.
" Then, my dear colonel, thus mounted and
attended, you may well dine with me, and by
borrowing somewhat of this fine moonlight,
reach Williamsburg ere his excellency shall have
shaken off his morning slumbers."

" Do I understand that I may be excused im
mediately after dinner?"
" Immediately, with all the promptness of
military discipline."
"Then, sir, I accept your hospitality;" and
gracefully throwing himself from his spirited
charger, he resigned him to his English servant,
giving, at the same time, strict orders for the
hour of departure on their urgent journey.
" I am rejoiced, Colonel Washington," said
the hospitable old gentleman, " thus fortunately
to have met you on my morning ride ; and the
more so, as I have some guests, who may make
the repast pass pleasantly, and will not fail to
appreciate a young and gallant soldier."
Washington bowed his thanks, and was intro
duced to the company. Virginia's far-famed
hospitality was well set forth in that spacious
baronial hall. The social feast was closed pre
cisely at the time the host had predicted. The
servant also was punctual. He knew the habits
of his master. At the appointed moment he
stood with the horses caparisoned at the gate.
Yet long did the proud steed champ his bit, -ud
curve his arching neck, and paw the broken
turf. And much did the menial marvel, as, list
ening to every footstep that paced down the
avenue, he saw the sun sink in the west, and yet
no master appear. When was he ever before
known to fail in punctuality ? The evening air
breathed cool and damp, and soothed the impa
tience of the chafing courser. At length orders
came that the horses should be put up for the
night. Wonder upon wonder ! when his busi
ness with the governor was so urgent ! The
sun rode high in the heavens the next day ere
Washington mounted for his journey. No ex
planation was given. But it was rumored that
among the guests was a beautiful and youthful
widow, to whose charms the hero had re
sponded. This was further confirmed by his
tarrying but a brief space at Williamsburg, and
retracing his route with unusual celerity, and
becoming a frequent visitor at the house of the
late Colonel Custis in that vicinity, where, the
following year, his nuptials were celebrated.
" And rare and high," says G. W. P. Custis,
Esq., the descendant and biographer of the
lady, " rare and high was the revelry at that

700

APPENDIX.

palmy period of Virginia's festal age ; for many
were gathered to that marriage of the good,
the great, the gifted, and the gay ; while Vir
ginia, with joyful acclamations, hailed in the
prosperous and happy bridegroom her favorite
chief." Henceforth the life of the Lady of Mount
Vernon is a part of the history of her country.
In that hallowed retreat she was found entering
into the plans of Washington, sharing his confi
dence, and making his household happy. There
her only daughter, Martha Custis, died in the
bloom of youth ; and a few years after, when
the troubles of the country drew her husband
to the post of commander-in-chief of her armies,
she accompanied him to Boston, and witnessed
its siege and evacuation. For eight years he
returned no more to enjoy his beloved residence
on the banks of the Potomac. During his ab
sence she made the most strenuous efforts to
sustain her added responsibilities, and to en
dure, with changeless trust in Heaven, continued
anxiety for the safety of her husband and the
fate of the country. At the close of each cam
paign she repaired, in compliance with his
wishes, to headquarters, where the ladies of the
general officers joined her in forming such a so
ciety as diffused a cheering influence over even
the gloom of such winters as those at Valley
Forge and Morristown. The opening of every
campaign was the signal of the return of Lady
Washington (as she was called in the army) to
her domestic cares at Mount Vernon. " I
heard," said she, " the first and the last cannon
of the Revolutionary War." The rejoicings
which attended the surrender of Cornwallis in
the autumn of 1781, marked for her a season of
the deepest private sorrow. Her only remain
ing child, Colonel John Custis, the aid-de-camp
of Washington, became, during his arduous du
ties at the siege of Yorktown, the victim of an
epidemic fever, and died at the age of twenty-
seven. He was but a boy of five years at the
time of her second marriage, and had drawn
forth strongly the affection and regard of her
illustrious husband, who shared her affliction for
his loss, and, by the tenderest sympathy, sought
its alleviation.
It must have been an exquisite moment in the

life of Martha Washington, when, after an ab
sence of nine years, she welcomed her husband
victorious to his beloved home. He came back
with added furrows in his cheek and many
more threads of silver in his hair, but he wore
such an amaranth as never before bound a con
queror's brow. He who had refused to be
Caesar, came home, to forget his fame in the
arms of his family. We love to fancy that
hour — Washington at home ; his grandchildren,
some of whom he could never have seen, prat
tling around him ; the old servants coming with
proud delight to shake hands with their beloved
master ; the visits of recognition to his noble
steeds and old familiar spots. There were jubi
lant thanksgivings ascending to the Prince of
Peace on that memorable Christmas day, from
many devout hearts, but none more fervent
than those of George and Martha Washington.
Long had the reunited pair anticipated the
time when they " should be suffered to grow
old together in solitude and tranquillity." It
seemed now to have arrived. Washington re
turned to his old pursuits — tilling fields, fatten
ing herds, and adorning grounds as aforetime.
Within doors, his comely lady presided over his
enlarged establishment, with the old energy and
grace. So laborious had her duties become, that
we find her ever-thoughtful husband seeking a
housekeeper, to relieve her " from the drudgery
of ordering and seeing the table properly cov
ered, and things economically used."
After six years of such rest as those only who
have worn the public yoke can enjoy, Wash
ington was again called by his country to take
up his burden. During the eight years of his
presidency, his faithful wife was by his side.
Her position was one of peculiar delicacy. It
devolved upon her, with the president, to estab
lish the social usages of the government. They
had no precedents to guide them, for such a
republic as the American had never existed.
They were to establish an etiquette, not stately
and punctilious like that of European courts;
nor, on the other hand, too democratic; but
sufficiently imposing to give dignity to the
presidential mansion. Washington and his lady
arranged the ceremonials of their social life with
admirable discretion ; nobody dared trespass

APPENDIX.

701

the bounds of decorum in his presence, nobody
could help being cheerful in hers.
The annals of the first republican court have
been often written. Even foreigners commend
ed the ease and grace with which Mrs. Wash
ington filled her high position. The state din
ners did not disgrace her taste, nor the vaunted
skill of Hercules the cook.
In 1797, Washington, venerable in years, and
laden with glory, returned finally to the bosom
of his family. The simple and tranquil dignity
of his last days were such as poets love to sing.
The sacred companions of his victories came
and went as they listed through his hospitable
doors. " The wise men of the east" laid their
homage at the feet of the incorruptible hero,
and the grateful peans of a filial nation rocked
him to his final rest.
Kneeling by his motionless remains, and look
ing upon that majestic countenance, Mrs. Wash
ington found strength to say, " 'Tis well ; all is
now over ; I shall soon follow him ; I have no
more trials to pass through." She had indeed
survived all her family ; five graves had opened
to receive her dead, and nothing now remained
for her but to lie down by their side. Earth
had crowned her name with immortal renown ;
it could do nothing more ; and she desired to
make what haste she could to rejoin her de
parted in another country. " That piety," says
Mrs. Sigourney, " which had so long been her
strength, continued its support, but her heart
drooped. Cheerfulness did not utterly forsake
her, yet she discharged the habitual round of
duties as one who felt that the ' glory had de
parted.' "
How beautiful and characteristic was her re
ply to the solicitations of the highest authority
of the nation, that the remains of her illustrious
husband might be removed to the seat of gov
ernment, and a monument erected to mark the
spot of their repose :
" Taught by the great example which I have
had so long before me, never to oppose my pri
vate wishes to the will of my country, I consent
to the request made by Congress ; and in doing
this I need not, I cannot say, what a sacrifice of
individual feeling I make to a sense of public
duty." Voi,. II.— 89

The intention of the Congress of 1799 has
not been executed, nor the proposed monument
erected. The enthusiasm of the time passed
away, and the many and conflicting cares of a
great nation turned its thoughts from thus per
petuating his memory, whose image, it trusted,
would be embalmed by an imperishable grati
tude. Scarcely were two years of her lonely widow
hood accomplished, ere the Lady of Mount Ver
non felt the approach of death. Gathering her
family around her, she impressed on them the
value of that religion which, from youth, she
had trusted, and loved onward to hoary hairs ;
then, calmly resigning her soul into the hands
of Him who gave it, full of years and full of
honors, she was laid in the tomb of Wash
ington. In this outline of the lineaments of the Lady
of Mount Vernon, we perceive that it was nei
ther the beauty with which she was endowed,
nor the high station which she attained, that
gave enduring lustre to her character, but her
Christian fidelity in those duties which devolve
upon her sex. These fitted her to irradiate the
home, to lighten the cares, to cheer the anxi
eties, to sublimate the enjoyments of him who,
in the expressive language of Chief-justice Mar
shall, was " so favored of Heaven as to depart
without exhibiting the weakness of humanity."
Though this slight sketch can boast no ele
ment of attraction for the lover of romance, yet
the symmetry of her character whom it aims to
portray, and her identification with him whom
all delight to honor, should claim a place in the
lasting remembrance and love of the American
people.

JOHN ADAMS.

John Adams was born October 19, 1735, at
Braintree, Mass., where his family had settled
as early as 1630. Having, when yet a boy,
evinced great fondness for books, and readiness
in learning, his father placed him under the
care of Mr. Marsh (afterwards the preceptor of
the celebrated Josiah Quincy), that he might
be prepared for entrance into the University of
| Cambridge. He remained in that institution

702

APPENDIX.

until the year 1755, when he received his bach
elor's degree. Whilst at college, he is said to
have been distinguished by intense application,
retentiveness of memory, acuteness of reasoning,
boldness and originality of thought, strength of
language, and an honesty of character which
could neither assume nor tolerate disguise. Af
ter he had left college, he commenced the study
of law, at Worcester, with Colonel James Put
nam, and, during the period he was so engaged,
taught Latin and Greek, to defray his expenses
himself. In 1758, he entered the office of Jeremiah
Gridley, then attorney-general of the province,
and of the highest eminence at the bar. Grid-
ley had, some years previously, superintended
the legal studies of James Otis, and, proud of
his two pupils, used often to say, that " he had
raised two young eagles, who were one day or
other to peck out his eyes." In 1759, Mr.
Adams was admitted, at his recommendation, a
member of the bar of Suffolk, and commenced
the practice of his profession. His successful
defence of a prisoner, in the county of Plymouth,
led to a sufficiency of lucrative business. In
1761 he was admitted to the degree of barrister
at law, and shortly afterwards was placed in the
possession of a small landed estate by his father's
decease. In 1764 he married Abigail Smith, second
daughter of Rev. William Smith, of Weymouth,
a lady every way worthy of her husband, en
dowed by nature with a countenance singularly
noble and lovely, and with a mind whose fine
powers were improved by an excellent educa
tion. Her ardor in the cause of her country
was as elevated as his own, and her piety unaf
fected and exemplary.
About a year afterwards, Mr. Adams pub
lished in the Boston Gazette several pieces, un
der the title of " An Essay on Canon and Feudal
Law," which were reprinted at London in 1768,
and there ascribed to Gridley, but subsequently
republished under Mr. Adams's name, at Phila
delphia, in 1783.
It seems to have been the principal object of
the author to extinguish, as far as possible, the
blind and almost superstitious veneration of his
countrymen for the institutions of the parent

country, by holding up to their abhorrence the
principles of the canon and feudal law, and
showing to them the conspiracy which existed
between church and state for the purpose of
oppressing the people. He inculcates the senti
ments of genuine liberty, as well as the neces
sity of correct information on the part of his
fellow-citizens, in order that they might be pre
pared to assert and maintain their rights by
force, if force should ever become necessary.
It was, indeed, a work eminently calculated to
excite the people of America to resist, at all
hazards, any infringements of their liberties.
In December, 1765, Mr. Adams was engaged,
as counsel with Mr. Gridley and Mr. Otis, to
support, before the governor and council, a me
morial presented to the former, from the town
of Boston, to obtain the opening of the courts,
which had been closed on account of the oppo
sition to the stamp-act. Through their united
exertions the petition was successful. In the
same year he removed to Boston, where he con
tinued the practice of his profession. After he
had resided there about two years, the crown
officers of the province — thinking, perhaps, that
his patriotism was not without its price — made
him an offer of the office of advocate-general in
the court of admiralty, the most lucrative post
in the gift of the governor. This office, also,
was one which conducted its incumbents direct
ly to the highest provincial honors. He refused
it, however, as he says in his preface to the late
edition of Novanglus, " decidedly and peremp
torily, though respectfully."
In 1769 he was appointed chairman of the
committee, chosen by the town of Boston, for
the purpose of drawing up instructions to their
representatives, to resist the encroachments of
the British government. His colleagues were
R. Dana and Jos. Warren. At the time they
were thus employed, the metropolis was invest
ed by an armed force, both by sea and land,
and the state-house surrounded by a military
guard, with cannon pointed at the door. Large
majorities of both houses of parliament had sig
nified their approval of the measures adopted
by the king ; had promised him their support,
and besought him to prosecute, within the realm,
all those who had been guilty of treasonable

APPENDIX.

703

acts in Massachusetts since the year 1767, in ac
cordance with the decree of parliament of the
thirty-fifth of Henry VIII. Nevertheless, the
committee performed their task with undaunted
firmness, and reported the instructions. It was
on account of these instructions and resolutions
that the provincial garrison was withdrawn, by
order of the governor, from the castle, and reg
ular troops, in the pay of the crown, substituted.
The instructions also formed one of the specific
charges made against the colony, by the com
mittee of the lords of council for plantation
affairs, to the lords of council, July 6, 1770.
A striking example of the firmness and up
rightness of Mr. Adams occurred during the
course of that year. The people of Boston, ex
asperated at the idea of a garrison in their city,
were extremely hostile to the soldiers. These
feelings led to an attack upon a party of them,
under the command of Captain Preston, March
5th. The soldiers fired on the assailants in self-
defence, and killed several of them. They were
immediately arraigned before the civil authority,
and Mr. Adams, in conjunction with Josiah
Quincy and Mr. Sampson S. Blowers, was re
quested to aid them upon their trial. Although
the minds of the people were inflamed almost to
madness, and the defence of the accused seemed
to involve a certain loss of popularity, Mr.
Adams immediately undertook to act as their
advocate. The cause was conducted with great
ability, and the soldiers were all acquitted save
two, who were found guilty of manslaughter,
receiving a slight branding as a punishment,
and were then discharged. Scarcely any thing
which occurred during the Revolution confers
more honor upon the national character, and
did more service to the cause of America, than
this triumph of justice.
Mr. Adams soon after received a proof that
the public confidence was not diminished, by
his election in May, 1770, to the legislature of
his State, as one of the representatives of the
town of Boston. Here he displayed the same
patriotism, courage, and hostility to the despot
ism of the mother country. He took a promi
nent part in every public measure, and reported
some of the most important State papers of the
time; among others, the address and protest

to the governor against the removal of the
general court from Boston to Cambridge. A
discussion with William Brattle, on the salary of
judges, subjected him to the displeasure of Gov
ernor Hutchinson and the ministerial party, and
at the next election in May, when chosen by
the assembly into the council, the governor gave
his negative to the choice.
In 1774, he was again rejected by Governor
Gage, and soon afterwards he was appointed
one of the committee of the town of Boston,
who prepared the celebrated resolutions on the
Boston port-bill. Governor Gage having, on the
17th of June, dissolved the assembly, this body,
before separating, passed a resolution, under
which Mr. John Adams, together with Mr.
Thomas Cushing, Mr. Samuel Adams, and Mr.
Robert Treat Paine, were elected deputies of
Massachusetts to the first continental Congress,
which met at Philadelphia in the following Sep
tember. "Mr. Adams took his seat in Con
gress, September 5, 1774, the first day of their
session, and served on the most important com
mittees,- — among others, that which drew up the
statement of the rights of the colonies, and that
which prepared the address to the king. He
and his colleagues carried with them the char
acter of being so thoroughly desirous of inde
pendence, that before they arrived at Philadel
phia, warning had been given to them, by many
of the most respectable inhabitants of the
Middle States, not to utter a word on that sub
ject, as it was as unpopular as the stamp-act
itself." On his return to Massachusetts, he be
came engaged in a controversy with his friend
Sewall, who was vindicating government in a
series of essays. Mr. Adams's reply exhibits
the cause of America in the most triumphant
and favorable light.
When Mr. Adams resumed his seat in Con
gress the following year, hostilities had in re
ality commenced between Great Britain and
the colonists, though as yet not openly declared,
and the blood of numbers of brave men had
stained the plains of Lexington and Concord.
On receiving the account of this battle, Con
gress determined upon war. It was necessary
to select a commander-in-chief of the troops
which were to be raised. The eyes of all the

704

APPENDIX.

New England delegation turned upon General
Ward, then at the head of the army in Massa
chusetts. When that officer was proposed for
nomination, Mr. Adams alone dissented, and
urged the selection of George Washington, one
of the representatives from Virginia. He was
resisted, and left the meeting with the declara
tion that Washington should be nominated.
He was accordingly nominated at the instiga
tion of Mr. Adams, by Governor Johnstone of
Maryland, and chosen without an opposing voice.
When Mr. Adams returned to Massachusetts,
after the dissolution of the Congress of 1775,
he declined the post of chief-justice, believing
that he should be able to render more effec
tual service to the cause of his country in its
national councils. In Congress he was one of
the few to uphold the still unpopular idea of in
dependence ; so unpopular, indeed, that as soon
as Mr. Adams was suspected in Philadelphia of
being an advocate of a total separation from the
mother country, he was represented constantly
in the most odious light, and even pointed at
and avoided on appearing in the streets. Still,
however, he persevered, made every day prose
lytes, and, May 6, 1776, moved in Congress a
resolution, which was, in fact, a virtual declara
tion of independence, recommending to the
colonies " to adopt such a government as would,
in the opinion of the representatives of the peo
ple, best conduce to the happiness and safety of
their constituents and of America." This passed,
after a hard struggle, on the 15th of the same
month, and was the prelude to the glorious and
daring resolution, moved by Richard Henry
Lee, of Virginia, on the 7th of June following,
and seconded by Mr. Adams, " that these united
colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and
independent States ; that they are absolved from
all allegiance to the British crown ; and that all
political connection between them and the State
of Great Britain is, and of right ought to be,
totally dissolved." The debate upon this mo
tion was of the most animated character. It
continued from the 7th to the 10th, when the
further discussion of the measure was postponed
to the 1st of July. A committee of five was
also appointed to prepare a provisional draught
of a declaration of independence. The mem

bers of it were chosen by ballot, and were
Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin
Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Liv
ingston. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams were
deputed a sub-committee to prepare the instru
ment, the former of whom, at the earnest soli
citation of the latter, became its author.
On the 1st of July, Mr. Lee's resolution was
again considered, and debated during that and
the following day, when it was finally adopted.
The draught of the declaration was then sub
mitted, for the purpose of undergoing an ex
amination in detail. It was passed on the 4th
of the same month, as prepared by Mr. Jeffer
son, with only a few alterations, which were
made through a deference to the views of some
of the States. Mr. Adams always preferred
the draught as it originally stood. The decla
ration was not adopted without serious opposi
tion from many members of the Congress,
including John Dickinson, one of the ablest
men in that assembly. But their arguments
were completely overthrown by the force and
eloquence of Mr. Adams, whose speech on the
subject of independence is said to have been
unrivalled. Mr. Jefferson himself has affirmed,
"that the great pillar of support to the declara
tion of independence, and its ablest advocate
and champion on the floor of the House, was
John Adams." Speaking of his general char
acter as an orator, the same illustrious man
observed that he was "the Colossus of that
Congress ; not graceful, not elegant, not always
fluent in his public addresses, he yet came out
with a power, both of thought and expression,
which moved his hearers from their seats."
On the recall of Mr. Silas Deane, Mr. Adams
was chosen, November 28, 1777, to fill his place
as commissioner at the court of Versailles. By
this appointment, he was released from the
laborious and important duties of chairman of
the board of war, which post he had filled since
June 13, 1776.
About two months after his appointment,
Mr. Adams embarked in the Boston frigate,
and arrived safely at his place of destination,
though an English fleet had been dispatched to
intercept him. The treaties of commerce and
alliance with France were signed before he

APPENDIX.

705

reached that country, and, after remaining there
until the following August, he returned to the
United States, — the nomination of Dr. Franklin
as minister plenipotentiary to the court of Ver
sailles having superseded the powers of the com
missioners. Immediately on his arrival, he was
elected a member of the convention to prepare
a form of government for the State of Massa
chusetts, and placed upon the sub-committee
chosen to draught the project of a constitution
to be laid before that body. The general frame
of the constitution, particularly the manner of
dividing and distributing power, and the clause
respecting the duty incumbent upon govern
ment with regard to the patronage of literature
and the arts and sciences, were the work of his
pen. Three months after his return, Congress
again sent him abroad with two commissions,
one as a minister plenipotentiary to negotiate a
peace, the other to form a commercial treaty
with Great Britain. He embarked in the French
frigate Sensible, November 17, and was forced
to land at Corunna, in Spain, from which place
he proceeded to Paris, where he arrived in Feb
ruary, 1780. Finding the French court jealous
of his commission, he repaired to Holland in
August, 1780, — Congress having passed a vote
of approbation of his conduct, instead of recall
ing him, as the French minister, Count de Ver
gennes, had solicited them to do.
The June previous to his journey to Amster
dam, Mr. Adams was appointed in the room of
Mr. Laurens to obtain loans in Holland ; and,
in December of the same year, was invested
with full powers to negotiate a treaty of amity
and commerce with that country. Mr. Adams
at first had to contend with great difficulties.
He was opposed by the whole influence of the
British government, as well as by the power of
the Prince of Orange, and even, strange as it
may appear, by the intrigues of France -herself,
the professed friend and avowed ally of the Uni
ted States. He found the people of Holland en
tirely unacquainted with the affairs of his coun
try, and immediately began to impart to them
information concerning that subject, using for
this purpose, principally, two newspapers, one
called the Leyden Gazette, and the other Le
Politique Hollandois, in which he wrote various

political articles. He also published a series of
letters, in answer to some queries of Mr.Kalkoen,
an eminent jurist of Amsterdam, containing an
account of the rise and progress of the dispute
with Great Britain, and of the resources, spirit,
and prospects of the United States. These
epistles, together with some essays written by
Mr. Kalkoen, drawing a comparison between
the struggles of the United States for their lib
erty, and those formerly made by the seven
United Provinces, which eventuated in their in
dependence, had a great effect in enlightening
the people of Holland, and inspired them with
sentiments highly favorable to the American
cause. Shortly afterwards, December 21, 1780,
a rupture took place between England and Hol
land, occasioned by the accession of the latter
to the armed neutrality, and the discovery of a
negotiation between Mr. Lee, the American
commissioner at Berlin, and Mr. Van Berckel,
the pensionary of Amsterdam, for a treaty of
amity and commerce.
Even at this early period, Mr. Adams had
formed an opinion decidedly in favor of the es
tablishment of a navy, and expressed it in al
most all his letters to his friends at home.
In July, 1781, Mr. Adams was summoned to
Paris for the purpose of consulting upon the
offer of mediation made by the courts of Aus
tria and Russia, and suggested an answer adopt
ed by the French court, which put an end to
the negotiation on that subject ; the mediating
powers refusing to acknowledge the independ
ence of the United States without the consent
of Great Britain.
October 19, 1781, Mr. Adams, in opposition
to the advice of the Duke de la Vauguion,
the French minister at the Hague, and on his
own responsibility, communicated to their high
mightinesses his letters of credence, presenting
to their president also, at the same time, a me
morial, dated April 19, in which he justified the
Declaration of Independence, and endeavored
to convince the people of Holland that it was
for their interest to form a connection with the
United States, and to give them support in their
difficulties. As he had not yet been acknowl
edged by the States-General as the minister of a
sovereign and independent nation, the president

706

APPENDIX.

could not receive the memorial in form, but he
engaged to make a report of the substance of
what had been communicated to him by Mr.
Adams. In the August previous, Mr. Adams
had received instructions to propose a triple al
liance between France, the United Provinces,
and the United States, to exist as long as hos
tilities were carried on by the latter against
Great Britain, one of the indispensable condi
tions of which, on the part of Holland, was the
recognition of American independence. The
alliance never was effected, but the latter ob
ject Mr. Adams accomplished. January 9, 1782,
not having received a reply to his memorial, he
waited upon the president, and demanded a
categorical answer. The States-General then
took the subject immediately into consideration,
and Mr. Adams was acknowledged, April 19,
as ambassador of the United States, and three
days afterwards was received as such.
Having obtained assurance that Great Britain
would recognize the independence of the United
States, he repaired, in October, 1782, to Paris,
whither he had refused to go before such assu
rance was given, to commence the negotiation
for peace, and there met Dr. Franklin, Mr. Jay,
and Mr. Laurens, who, as well as Mr. Jefferson,
had been appointed his colleagues. Their in
structions, a part of which was " to undertake
nothing without the knowledge and concur
rence of the ministers of France, and ultimately
to govern themselves by their advice and opin
ion," placed them almost entirely under the
control of the French court. They were greatly
displeased at being thus shackled, and, after a
short time, finding themselves in a very embar
rassing situation, they boldly determined to dis
obey their instructions, and act for themselves
and for their country, without consulting the
ministers of a supposed treacherous ally. The
definitive treaty of peace was ratified January
14, 1783.
After serving on two or three commissions
to form treaties of amity and commerce with
foreign powers, Mr. Adams, in 1786, was ap
pointed the first minister to London. It is re
lated that, upon his introduction to the king,
the latter, knowing his disgust at the intrigues
of the French court, and wishing to compliment

him, expressed his pleasure at receiving a minis
ter who had no prejudices in favor of France,
the natural enemy of his crown. The reply of
Mr. Adams evinced his patriotism and honesty
of character. "May it please your majesty,"
said he, " I have no prejudices but for my own
country." In 1787, whilst in London, he pub
lished his Defence of the American Constitution,
and in October of that year returned to the
United States. Congress, at the same time that
they gave him permission, passed a resolution of
thanks to be presented to him for his able and
faithful discharge of the various important com
missions with which he had been intrusted.
Immediately after his return, Mr. Adams was
elected the first vice-president of the United
States under the new constitution, and re-elected
as such in 1793. He discharged the duties of
his office until March 4, 1797, when he suc
ceeded to the presidency, vacated by the resig
nation of General Washington. This great
man's confidence he possessed in an eminent
degree, and was consulted by him as often as
any member of the cabinet. As the two par
ties in the Senate were nearly balanced, Mr. Ad
ams, while acting ex-officio as president of that
body, had often to decide questions, by his cast
ing vote, of the highest importance, and which
had excited a great deal of party feeling. One
instance of this occurred, when Mr. Clarke's
resolution prohibiting all intercourse with Great
Britian, on account of the capture of several
American vessels by British ships, and other
grievances, was brought before the Senate,
after having been adopted by the House of
Representatives, April 18, 1794. Upon this
bill the senators were equally divided, and Mr.
Adams decided against it, thinking that it
would have no good effect upon the policy of
England, would injure us as much as her, and
perhaps occasion a war.
It will not be necessary to enter into a de
tail of the events of his administration, as they
belong rather to the department of the histo
rian than of the biographer. When he com
menced the discharge of the duties of his office,
he found the government embroiled in a dispute
with France, and, in one of his earliest com
munications to Congress, complained, in digni-

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APPENDIX.

707

fled and eloquent language, of a grievous insult
offered by the government of that country to
the ambassador of the United States. Wishing
still to preserve peace, he dispatched a com
mission consisting of three envoys, Messrs.
Pinckney, Marshall, and Gerry, to France. The
French government treated them in the most
contumelious manner. Such, however, was the
violence of party spirit, and so large a portion
of the American people entertained an en
thusiastic admiration of France, that even the
measures which Mr. Adams then took for sus
taining the national dignity had no inconsidera
ble effect in diminishing his popularity.
Mr. Adams was the founder of the American
navy. Before his administration, scarcely an
American ship of war was to be seen upon the
ocean ; but, during this period, by his strenuous
exertions mainly, a very respectable naval force
was created. His administration, however, was
not of long continuance, having pleased neither
of the two great parties which divided the
country (the greatest praise, perhaps, that it
could receive), his measures being too strong
for the democrats and too weak for the federal
ists. In consequence of this, after his term of
four years had expired, March 4, 1801, it was
found that his adversary, Mr. Jefferson, had
succeeded by a majority of one vote.
After his retirement to his farm in Quincy,
Mr. Adams occupied himself with agricultural
pursuits, obtaining amusement from the litera
ture and politics of the day. He was nominated
governor of Massachusetts, but declined. Dur-
ring the disputes with England, which occurred
while Mr. Jefferson was in office, Mr. Adams pub
lished a series of letters, in a Boston paper, support
ing the policy of the administration. His publish
ed writings, besides those we have already men
tioned, are " Discourses on Davila," published
in 1790. In 1816, Mr. Adams was chosen a
member of the electoral college which voted
for the elevation of Mr. Monroe to the presi
dency ; and, the following year, sustained the
greatest affliction that he had ever been called
upon to endure, by the loss of his wife. On
this occasion he received a beautiful letter of
condolence from Mr. Jefferson, between whom
and himself their former friendship, interrupted

for a time by the animosities of party, had been
revived. In 1820, he was elected a member of the
convention to revise the constitution of his
State, and chosen its president. This honor he
was constrained to decline, on account of his
infirmities and great age, being then eighty-five
years old ; but he attended the convention as a
member, and fulfilled the duty incumbent upon
him as such. After that, his life glided away
in uninterrupted tranquillity, until the 4th of
July, 1826, when he breathed his last, with the
same hallowed sentiment on his lips which on
that glorious day, fifty years before, he had
uttered on the floor of Congress — "Indepen
dence forever." On the morning of the jubilee,
he was roused by the ringing of the bells and
the firing of cannon, and on being asked by the
servant who attended him, whether he knew
what day it was, he replied, " Oh, yes ! it is the
glorious 4th of July — God bless it — God bless
you all." In the course of the day, he said,
" It is a great and glorious day," and just before
he expired, exclaimed, " Jefferson survives."
But Jefferson had already, at one o'clock, that
same day, rendered his spirit into the hands of
its Creator.

THOMAS JEFFERSON.
Thomas Jefferson, the third president of the
United States of America, was born April 2, old
style, 1743, at Shad well, in Albemarle county,
Virginia, and was the eldest of eight children.
His father, though his education had been en
tirely neglected in early life, being a man of
strong mind, acquired, by subsequent study,
considerable information. He died when the
subject of our sketch was about twelve years
old, having previously given him every means
of knowledge that could be procured, and left
him a considerable estate.
After going through a course of school in
struction, young Jefferson entered the college
of William and Mary, where he remained for
two years. He then commenced the study of
law under the guidance of the celebrated George
Wythe, by whom, in 1767, he was introduced

708

APPENDIX.

to its practice, at the bar of the general court
of the colony, at which he continued until the
Revolution. In 1769 he was elected a member
of the provincial legislature from the county
where he resided, and made a fruitless effort in
that body for the emancipation of the slaves.
By this time a spirit of opposition had been
excited in the colonies to the arbitrary measures
of the British government ; and when the gov
ernor of Virginia dissolved the general assem
bly, in 1769, in consequence of the sympathy
which was displayed by the majority of its mem
bers with the feelings which had been manifest
ed in Massachusetts, they met the next day, in
the public room of the Raleigh tavern, formed
themselves into a convention, drew up articles
of association against the use of any merchan
dise imported from Great Britain, and signed
and recommended them to the people. They
then repaired to their respective counties, and
were all re-elected, except those few who had
declined assenting to their proceedings. In
1773, Mr. Jefferson associated himself with sev
eral of the boldest and most active of his com
panions in the House (" not thinking," as he says
himself, " the old and leading members up to
the point of forwardness and zeal which the
times required"), and with them formed the
system of committees of correspondence, in a
private room of the same Raleigh tavern. This
system was adopted as the best instrument for
communication between the different colonies,
by which they might be brought to a mutual
understanding, and a unity of action produced.
This end was completely accomplished, as well
as another object, that of exciting throughout
the colonies a desire for a general congress. It
was accordingly resolved that one should be
held, and in Virginia a convention was assem
bled for the purpose of choosing delegates. Of
this convention Mr. Jefferson was elected a
member ; but, being suddenly taken ill on the
road, as he was repairing to Williamsburg, its
place of meeting, he sent on to its chairman,
Peyton Randolph, a draft of instructions which
he had prepared as proper to be given to the
delegates who should be sent to Congress. It
was laid on the table for perusal ; but, though
approved by many, the sentiments contained in

it were too bold to be adopted by the majority ;
" tamer sentiments," in his own words, " were
preferred, and, I believe, wisely preferred ; the
leap I proposed being too long, as yet, for the
mass of our citizens."
The position that he maintained was, that the
relation between Great Britain and the colonies
was exactly the same as that between England
and Scotland, after the accession of James and
until the union, and the same as her relations
with Hanover, having the same executive chief,
but no other necessary political connection. In
this doctrine, however, the only person who en
tirely concurred with him was George Wythe,
the other patriots "stopping at the half-way
house of John Dickinson, who admitted that
England had a right to regulate our commerce,
and to lay duties on it for the purposes of regu
lation, but not of raising revenue." Though
the paper was not adopted, the convention, nev
ertheless, caused it to be printed in a pamphlet
form, under the title of a " Summary View ot
the Rights of British America." Having found
its way to England, it was taken up by the op
position, and, with a few interpolations of Mr.
Burke, passed through several editions. It pro
cured for its author considerable reputation, and
likewise the dangerous honor of having his name
placed on a list of proscriptions, ill a bill of at
tainder, which was commenced in one of the
houses of parliament, but was speedily sup
pressed. June 21, 1775, Mr. Jefferson took his seat,
for the first time, in Congress, having been cho
sen to fill the place of Peyton Randolph, who
had resigned. In this new capacity, he perse
vered in the decided tone which he had as
sumed, always maintaining that no accommo
dation should be made between the two coun
tries, unless on the broadest and most liberal
basis. After serving on several committees, he was
at length appointed a member of that, whose
report has linked the name of its author with
the history of American independence. June
17, 1776, the delegates from Virginia, in com
pliance with the instructions of the convention,
moved that Congress should declare the United
Colonies free and independent States. This

APPENDIX.

709

gave rise to a warm and protracted debate, for
as yet there were many who continued to cling
to the hope of a peaceful adjustment. In the
course of the discussion, it appearing that sev
eral colonies were not yet fully ripe for separa
tion, it was deemed prudent to defer the final
decision of the question for a short time ; and,
in the mean while, a committee was appointed
to prepare a declaration of independence, con
sisting of John Adams, Doctor Franklin, Roger
Sherman, Robert R. Livingston, and Mr. Jeffer
son. The last named gentleman was requested
to draw up the paper, which he did, and it was
reported to the House, after receiving a few
alterations from Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams.
On the first of July, the day selected for decid-.
ing upon the original motion of the Virginia
delegates, it was carried in the affirmative by a
large majority, and two or three days after
wards by a unanimous vote. The Declaration
of Independence was then brought before the
House, by which, though generally approved, it
was in some respects modified. Those passages,
especially, which conveyed censure upon the
people of England, were either greatly softened
or entirely omitted, as the idea was still enter
tained that the colonies possessed friends in
England, whose good-will it would be proper
to cherish ; and a clause reprobating the slave-
trade was cancelled, in complaisance to some of
the Southern States, who were largely engaged
in the traffic. The debates respecting the Dec
laration occupied three days, on the last of
which, the 4th of July, it was signed by every
member present except John Dickinson, who
deemed a rupture with the mother country, at
that moment, rash and premature.
September 2, 1776, Mr. Jefferson retired from
his seat in Congress, and, on the 7th of October,
took his place in the legislature of Virginia, of
which he had been elected a member from his
county. In this situation, he was indefatigable
in his labors to improve the imperfect constitu
tion of the State, which had been recently and
hastily adopted, before a draft of one which
he had formed on the purest principles of re
publicanism had reached the convention which
was deliberating at Richmond. The chief ser
vice which he performed was as a member of a
Voi. II.— 90

commission for revising the laws, consisting, be
sides himself, of Edmund Pendleton, George
Wythe, George Mason, and Thomas Lud well
Lee, by whom no less than one hundred and
twenty-six bills were prepared, from which are
derived all the most liberal features of the ex
isting laws of the commonwealth. The share of
Mr. Jefferson in this great task was prominent
and laborious.
June 1, 1779, he was chosen the successor of
Mr. Henry, in the office of governor of the
State, and continued in it for two years, at the
end of which period he resigned, " from a be
lief," as he says, " that, under the pressure of
the invasion under which we were then labor
ing, the public would have more confidence in
a mihtary chief; and that, the military com
mander being invested with the civil power
also, both might be wielded with more energy,
promptitude, and effect for the defence of the
State." General Nelson was appointed in his
stead. Two days after his retirement from the
government, he narrowly escaped capture by
the enemy, a troop of horse having been dis
patched to Monticello, where he was residing,
for the purpose of making him prisoner. He
was breakfasting, when a neighbor rode up at
full speed with the intelligence that the troop
was ascending a neighboring hill. He first sent
off his family in a carriage, and, after a short
delay for some indispensable arrangements,
mounted his horse, and, taking a course through
the woods, joined them at the house of a friend,
— a flight in which it would be difficult to dis
cern any thing dishonorable, although it has
been made the subject of sarcasm and reproach
without end, by the spirit of party.
June 15, 1781, Mr. Jefferson was appointed
minister plenipotentiary, in conjunction with
others, to negotiate a peace, then expected to be
effected through the mediation of the Empress
of Russia ; but he declined, for the same reason
that had induced him, in 1776, to decline also
the appointment of a commissioner, with Doctor
Franklin, to go to France in order to negotiate
treaties of alliance and commerce with that
government. On both occasions, the state of his
family was such that he could not leave it, and
he " could not expose it to the dangers of the

710

APPENDIX.

sea, and of capture by the British ships, then
covering the ocean." He saw, too, that " the
laboring ore was really at home," especially at the
time of his first appointment. But, in Novem
ber, 1782, Congress, having received assurances
that a general peace would be concluded in the
winter and spring, renewed the offer which they
had made the previous year : and this time it
was accepted ; but the preliminary articles be
ing agreed upon before he left the country, he
returned to Monticello, and was chosen (June 6,
1783) a member of Congress.
It was during the session at Annapolis, that,
in consequence of Mr. Jefferson's proposal, an
executive committee was formed, called the
Committee of the States, consisting of a mem
ber from each State. Previously, executive
and legislative functions were both imposed
upon Congress ; and it was to obviate the bad
effects of this junction, that Mr. Jefferson's
proposition was adopted. Success, however, did
not attend the plan : the members composing
the committee quarrelled, and, finding it im
possible, on account of their altercations, to
fulfil their duties, they abandoned their post,
after a short period, and thus left the govern
ment without any visible head during the ad
journment of Congress.
May 7, 1784, Congress having resolved to
appoint another minister, in addition to Mr.
Adams and Doctor Franklin, for negotiating
treaties of commerce with foreign nations, se
lected Mr. Jefferson, who accordingly sailed
from Boston, July 5th, and arrived in Paris,
August 6th. Doctor Franklin was already there,
and Mr. Adams having, soon after, joined them,
they entered upon the duties of their mission.
They were not very successful, however, in
forming the desired commercial treaties, and,
after some reflection and experience, it was
thought better not to urge them too strongly,
but to leave such regulations to flow voluntarily
from the amicable dispositions and the evident
interests of the several nations.
In June, 1785, Mr. Adams repaired to Lon
don, on being appointed minister plenipotentiary
at the court of St. James, and, in July, Doctor
Franklin returned to America, and Mr. Jef
ferson was named his successor at Paris. In the

February of 1786, he received a pressing letter
from Mr. Adams, requesting him to proceed to
London immediately, as symptoms of a better
disposition towards America were beginning to
appear in the British' cabinet, than had been
manifested since the treaty of peace. On this
account he left Paris in the following March,
and, on his arrival in London, agreed with Mr.
Adams on a very summary form of treaty, pro
posing "an exchange of citizenship for our
citizens, our ships, and our productions gener
ally, except as to office." At the usual presen
tation, however, to the king and queen, both
Mr. Adams and himself were received in the
most ungracious manner, and, after a few vague
and ineffectual conferences, he returned to Paris.
Here he remained, with the exception of a visit
to Holland, to Piedmont, and the south of
France, until the autumn of 1789, zealously
pursuing whatever was beneficial to his country.
September 26th of that year, he left Paris for
Havre, and, crossing over to Cowes, embarked
for the United States. November 23d, he landed
at Norfolk, Va., and whilst on his way home,
received a letter from President Washington,
covering the appointment of secretary of state,
under the new constitution, which was just
commencing its operation. He soon afterwards
received a second letter from the same quarter,
giving him the option of returning to France,
in his ministerial capacity, or of accepting the
secretaryship, but conveying a strong intimation
of desire that he would choose the latter office.
This communication was produced by a letter
from Mr. Jefferson to the president, in reply to
the one first written, in which he had expressed
a decided inclination to go back to the French
metropolis. He then, however, consented to
forego his preference, and, March 21st, arrived in
New York, where Congress was in session, and
immediately entered upon the duties of his post.
Mr. Jefferson continued to fill the secretary
ship of state until the 31st of December, 1793,
when he resigned. From that period until Feb
ruary, 1797, he lived in retirement. In this
year he was elected vice-president of the United
States, and, in 1801, was chosen president, by a
majority of one vote over his competitor, Mr.
Adams. At the expiration of eight years, he

APPENDIX.

711

again retired to private life, from which he never
afterwards emerged. The rest of his life was
passed at Monticello, which was a continued
scene of the blandest and most liberal hospital
ity. Such, indeed, was the extent to which
calls upon it were made, by foreigners as well
as Americans, that the closing year of his life
was embittered by distressing pecuniary embar
rassments. He was forced to ask permission of
the Virginia legislature to sell his estate by lot
tery, which was granted.
Shortly after Mr. Jefferson's return to Monti
cello, it having been proposed to form a college
in his neighborhood, he addressed a letter to the
trustees, in which he sketched a plan for the
establishment of a general system of education
in Virginia. This appears to have led the way
to an act of the legislature, in the year 1818, by
which commissioners were appointed with au
thority to select a site and form a plan for a
university on a large scale. Of these commis
sioners, Mr. Jefferson was unanimously chosen
the chairman; and, August 4, 1818, he framed
a report, embracing the principles on which it
was proposed the institution should be formed.
The situation selected for it was at Charlottes
ville, a town at the foot of the mountain on
which Mr. Jefferson resided. He lived to see
the university — the child of his old age — in pros
perous operation, and giving promise of exten
sive usefulness. He fulfilled the duties of its
rector until a short period before his death,
which occurred on the 4th of July, 1826, the
fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Inde
pendence, and within the hour in which he had
signed it.
In person, Mr. Jefferson was tall and well-
formed ; his countenance was bland and ex
pressive ; his conversation fluent, imaginative,'
various, and eloquent. Few men equalled him
in the faculty of pleasing in personal intercourse,
and acquiring ascendency in political connec
tion. He was the acknowledged head of the
republican party, from the period of its organi
zation down to that of his retirement from pub
lic life. The unbounded praise and blame which
he received as a politician, must be left for the
judgment of the historian and posterity. In the
four volumes of his posthumous works, edited

by his grandson, Thomas Jefferson Randolph,
there are abundant materials to guide the lit
erary or historical critic in forming an estimate
of his powers, acquirements, feelings, and opin
ions. His name is one of the brightest in the
revolutionary galaxy.
Mr. Jefferson was a zealous cultivator of liter
ature and science. As early as 1781 he was
favorably known as an author, by his Notes on
Virginia. He published, also, various essays on
political and philosophical subjects, and a Man
ual of Parliamentary Practice, for the use of the
Senate of the United States. In the year 1800,
the French National Institute chose him one of
their foreign members. The volumes of post
humous works, in addition to an autobiography
of the author to the year 1790, consist princi
pally of letters from the year 1775 to the time
of his death, and embrace a great variety of
subjects.  ? 
JAMES MADISON.
James Madison was born on the 15th of
March, 1751, at the seat of his maternal grand
mother, near Port Royal, on the Rappahannock
River, in Virginia. His parents' home, how
ever, was then at Montpelier, in Orange county,
Virginia, where Mr. Madison always resided.
He received his first instruction from Donald
Robertson, a Scotch teacher in Bang and Queen
county, Virginia, with whom he was placed at
twelve years of age. During the three or four
years that he was under Robertson's care, he
acquired some knowledge of Greek, Latin, and
French, with the elements of mathematics. He
afterwards studied about two years at home,
under the Rev. J. Martin. In 1769 he was
sent to the college of Princeton, in New Jersey,
in preference to William and Mary College in
Virginia, which was considered unhealthy to stu
dents from the upper parts of the country. * In
1772 he took the degree of B. A., to obtain
which, however, it was necessary to compress
the studies, which usually occupy two years,
into one, a circumstance which so much im
paired his health that it was thought advisable
for him to return to Princeton another winter.
He returned to Virginia in the spring of 1773,

712

APPENDIX.

and commenced a course of reading to prepare
himself for the bar ; but the dispute between
the colonies and Great Britain having then
commenced, he was soon induced to take an ac
tive part in it. He particularly distinguished
himself as a friend to religious freedom by his
efforts in behalf of the preachers of the Baptist
persuasion, who were then persecuted with great
zeal by the Established Church, and occasion
ally thrown into prison for preaching in defiance
of prohibitory laws. In the spring of 1776, his
political career commenced by his being chosen
a member of the Virginia convention, which
formed the first constitution of Virginia. He
continued a member of the legislature till 1777,
when he lost his election, in consequence, it is
said, of his conscientious refusal to treat the
freeholders, according to the practice then pre
vailing. The legislature, however, named him
a member of the council, in which office he con
tinued two years, until he was appointed a
member of Congress, in which body he took his
seat in the month of March, 1780.
His letters and papers, which are published,
show that he took a very active part in the pro
ceedings of that body during the three years
that he was a member of it.
Returning to private life after the peace, he
resumed his legal studies, but intermingled
them with miscellaneous and philosophical read
ing. Natural history, to which the genius of
Buffon had then given unusual attraction, seem
ed to have been his favorite branch of science,
and he has left some notes of his observations on
European and American animals of the same
species. In 1784 he was again elected to the
legislature of Virginia, and continued a member
of that body for the years 1785 and 1786.
Here he formed the scheme, and drew up a reso
lution for that purpose, of inviting the meeting
at Annapolis, which led the way to the conven
tion that formed the constitution of the United
States. He was one of the three commissioners
from Virginia who assembled at Annapolis,
where he met Alexander Hamilton, with whom
he was afterwards so closely united in forming
the new constitution, and from whom he was so
widely separated in carrying it into execution.
It should be remarked, that he did not offer the

resolution which he had drawn up, on account
of the jealousy even then entertained by state
politicians of the federal authority and those
who had been in Congress, and it was confided
to a member who was exempt from that suspi
cion. While he was in the Virginia legislature, he
drew up the memorial and remonstrance against
the project for a compulsory support of religion,
which was, perhaps, made with a view to a per
manent establishment ; and he succeeded in de
feating it. His talents and acknowledged influ
ence at this time, were all exerted in favor of a
policy as liberal as it was practical and wise.
Finding that Kentucky was determined to sep
arate from Virginia, he furthered her purpose,
instead of making a fruitless opposition to it.
He opposed the attempt to introduce paper-
money ; he was the efficient supporter of the
laws introduced into the code prepared by Jef
ferson, Wythe, and Pendleton ; and he favored
the recovery of debts due to British creditors.
He proposed liberal donations to General Wash
ington and to Thomas Paine : the latter effort
failed, the former succeeded, but the donation
was refused. He carried on an extensive corre
spondence at the time with some four or five
friends, which gives the best view of the state
of Virginia at that period. In the convention
which formed the present constitution of the
United States, he bore a very conspicuous part ;
and anticipating the interest which future times
would take in the proceedings of that body, and
in the opinions of its members, he was at the
pains to keep a record of the debates — the only
one extant which is either complete or authen
tic. He commonly wrote out at night what had
been said in the day. After the constitution
was formed, he united with Alexander Hamilton
and John Jay in recommending it to the Amer
ican people, in newspaper essays, under the sig
nature of " Publius," which have been since pub
lished under the title of " The Federalist." The
debates, which he would never consent to pub
lish during his lifetime, Congress, after his de
cease, purchased for thirty thousand dollars, and
published. After the federal constitution was submitted
to the several States for their adoption, Mr.

APPENDIX.

713

Madison went into the legislature of Virginia,
where Patrick Henry headed the opposition to
it ; and it was to Mr. Madison's cool and pow
erful reasoning that its adoption in that State
was mainly due. If it had failed there, it would
have failed altogether. Mr. Madison had also
more agency than any other individual in indu
cing Virginia to make a cession of all her claims
to the lands northwest of the Ohio (now com
prehending the States of Ohio, Indiana, and Il
linois), to which she asserted a right, both under
her regal charters and by conquest during the
Revolution. He was chosen a member of the first Congress
under the constitution in 1789, and continued a
member of that body till 1797. In 1794 he
married Mrs. Todd, a widow of Philadelphia,
whose parents were Virginians, but, being Qua
kers, had removed to Philadelphia. From this
time he felt the strongest inclination to retire
from public life, and to devote himself exclu
sively to the cultivation of letters and science,
and the pursuits of agriculture. But his coun
trymen appreciated his worth too highly to
permit him to retire into private life. In Con
gress no one had more weight personally ; but
soon finding that his views and those of Mr.
Hamilton did not coincide as to the principles
and spirit in which the federal government
should be administered, he separated himself
from the administration, and was thus on most
great measures in a minority. When the public
debt was funded, he made an unavailing attempt
to secure to the soldiers and other original cred
itors the benefits of the rise in value of the pub
lic claims, which speculators had purchased at
about one-eighth of their nominal amount. This
was the first great measure in which he opposed
the ministerial policy of which Hamilton was
the chief author. He also opposed the unquali
fied assumption of the State debts by the fed
eral government. After the French Revolu
tion broke out, European politics mingled in
those of the United States, and for a time gave
them their chief form and color. Mr. Madison,
who always inclined to the side of liberal princi
ples, was a warm friend of the Revolution; and
though its excesses were more uncongenial to
no one than to himself, characterized as he was

through life by mildness of temper, humanity,
and love of order, yet he considered it as likely
in the end to advance the cause of civil free
dom, and it therefore had his hearty wishes for
its success.
Though thus leading an organized opposition
to General Washington's administration, this
circumstance for a long time seemed to have no
influence on their friendship, and it never pro
duced positive alienation. Before his first term
had expired, General Washington, being bent
on retirement, conceived the purpose of a fare
well address ; and after making an outline of
his views, he requested Mr. Madison to fill it
up. Some years afterwards he greatly enlarged
Mr. Madison's draft, which he then submitted
to Messrs. Hamilton and Jay, and the document
as published is found to contain some of Mr.
Madison's original forms of expression. The
intimacy and correspondence of these two great
men continued till 1796.
After it was known that General Washington
would retire in March, 1797, parties prepared
themselves for the struggle of electing his suc
cessor — the federalists uniting in favor of Mr.
Adams, and the republicans in favor of Mr.
Jefferson. Mr. Adams succeeded by three
votes. When parties were so nearly balanced,
each redoubled its efforts for the ascendency.
The administration party prepared two laws for
removing dangerous and suspicious aliens, and
for punishing libels on the government (called
Alien and Sedition Laws), which gave their ad
versaries a fit occasion to make a powerful ap
peal to the people. To further this object, Mr.
Madison, who was now withdrawn from Con
gress, went into the Virginia legislature ; and
in the session of 1798 prepared resolutions
denouncing these acts of Congress as infractions
of the constitution, and inviting the concurrence
of the other States. As some of the States
opposed the doctrines, and the subject produced
much discussion in pamphlets, in the following
year Mr. Madison prepared new resolutions,
with a preamble in which he examines the whole
subject in one of the closest and profoundest
pieces of reasoning which our language con
tains. It is thought to have contributed more
than any thing else to the revolution of parties

714

APPENDIX.

which soon followed. This report has since be
come a text-book for politicians on constitutional
law and the relative rights of the States and
general government. When Mr. Jefferson was
elected president, Mr. Madison was made his
secretary of state, and from that time until his
retirement, his life is comprehended in the his
tory of the United States. But the principal
parts which he acted will be briefly noticed here.
His pen was put in requisition in maintaining
the claim of the United States to the right of
deposit at New Orleans, under the treaty with
Spain ; in discussing the question of the true
boundary of Louisiana ; in corresponding with
Mr. Rose and Mr. Jackson, ministers of Great
Britain, on the subject of the attack on the
Chesapeake ; in drawing up instructions to Mr.
Monroe concerning the treaty with England,
and the objections to that which was made ; and
in corresponding with the American ministers
on the French Decrees and British Orders in
Council. Besides these official papers, he wrote
an " Examination of the Doctrines of National
Law," asserted by Mr. Stephens, which is per
haps the most compact piece of logic that he
ever produced, and the most satisfactory ex
position of the relative rights of neutrals and
belligerents that is extant.
In 1809 he succeeded Mr. Jefferson as presi
dent of the United States : he obtained one hun
dred and twenty-two votes out of one hundred
and seventy-six. General Pinckney, of South
Carolina, his opponent, obtained forty-seven
votes. In Virginia, the State appeared at first
nearly divided between him and Mr. Monroe,
but a majority of the legislature declaring in
formally a preference for Mr. Madison, the State
followed their example.
It is known that after many fruitless efforts
to induce Great Britain and France to respect
neutral rights, war was declared against Great
Britain during his administration, and that it
continued with various success until 1815. It
is said that Mr. Madison being aware how un
prepared the United States were for war, and
anxious to preserve peace as long as it could be
preserved consistently with the neutral rights of
America, wished to postpone the declaration of
war, but was urged into it by Mr. Clay and

some ardent spirits whose patience was ex
hausted. If this be so, had his councils pre
vailed, the war would have been prevented, for
he often said that the administration had after
wards indubitable evidence that the British
ministry had decided on revoking the offensive
order in council, in which case the principal
cause of war would have been removed.
After serving two terms, Mr. Madison retired
to private life, in March, 1817; and it may be
questioned whether the eight years which he
served as president were not the least happy of
his life. In 1829, when the constitution of
Virginia was submitted to revision, he consented
to serve as a member of the convention, and no
doubt contributed largely to soothe the irrita
tion which the conflict of local interests created.
He also acted as a visitor of the University of
Virginia, and succeeded Mr Jefferson as its rec
tor. Except in the discharge of these duties,
he not only held no office after his retirement,
but, we believe, never left his county after he
quitted Washington. Although Mr. Madison
lived to the age of eighty-five, he had a very
delicate constitution, and never enjoyed good
health. He died on the 28th of June, 1836.
His physician said that he had two or three
diseases, any one of which was commonly suf
ficient to shorten life.
In person Mr. Madison was below the middle
size : though his face was ordinarily homely,
when he smiled it was so pleasing as to be al
most handsome. His manner with strangers
was reserved, which some regarded as pride,
and others as coldness ; but on further acquaint
ance these impressions were completely effaced.
His temper seemed to be naturally a very sweet
one, and to have been brought under complete
control. When excited, he seldom showed any
stronger indication of anger than a slight flush
on the cheek. As a husband, Mr. Madison was
without reproach. He never had a child. He
was an excellent master, and though he might
have relieved himself from debt, and secured an
easy income, he could never be induced to sell
his slaves except for their own accommodation
(to be with their wives or husbands). The con
ferences between him and some' trusty servant
in his sick-chamber, were striking — the black

APPENDIX.

715

seeming to identify himself with his master as
to, the plans of management, and giving his
opinions as freely, though not offensively, as
if conversing with a brother. Mr. Madison
more than once said that he should have been
a great gainer in a pecuniary point of view if
he had many years before emancipated his
slaves. It was his deliberate conviction that the
colonization of the slaves in Africa was practi
cable. He endeavored to keep aloof from party
feelings, but regularly read the newspapers, and
remembered their contents better than most
people. Though he was cautious in expressing
his sentiments, he could not forbear taking the
liveliest interest in public concerns, especially in
those of the general government, towards which
he seemed always to feel a parental solicitude.
He stood well with all parties, and was solici
tous so to stand, both from a sense of duty and
a love of popularity. Of all the recent public
men, Mr. Clay seemed to be his favorite. He
felt great solicitude about the irritating discus
sions between the North and South on the sub
ject of slavery, and remarked that Mr. Clay had
been so successful in compromising great ques
tions, he wished he could have done something
on this ; and then, he added, " perhaps all par
ties would join and make him president."
With great powers of argument he had a
fine vein of humor ; he abounded in anecdote,
told his stories very well, and they had the ad
vantage of being such as were never heard be
fore, except perhaps from himself. But dis
trusting the infirmity of old age, he would
often say, " I believe I have told you this story
before." Such were his conversational powers,
that, to the last, his house was one of the most
pleasant to visit, and his society the most de
lightful that can be imagined. Yet more than
half his time he suffered bodily pain, and some
times very acute pain. He left pecuniary legacies
to some nephews and nieces ; one thousand five
hundred dollars to the University of Virginia,
about three or four thousand to the Colonization
Society, and the rest of his property, in value
about one hundred thousand dollars, to Mrs:
Madison. His writings are published in six
volumes (exclusive of the Debates of the Con
vention) : 1. Papers relative to the Old Con

federation and Constitution of Virginia ; Letters
to Jefferson, Monroe, Washington, &c, down
to 1789: 2. Letters to the same and others
during the administration of Washington and
Adams ; View of the Policy of these Adminis
trations ; Conversations with Washington, <fec. :
3. Letters to Foreign Ministers, Heads of De
partments, Presidents, &c, showing the Policy
of the Jefferson and Monroe Administrations :
4. Letters and Writings on Constitutional Sub
jects : 5. Essays and Letters on Political Econ
omy, the Law of Nations, Natural History,
&c. ; and, 6. Miscellaneous.

ROBERT R. LIVINGSTON.
Robert R. Livingston, an eminent Ameri
can statesman, was born in the city of New
York, November 27, 1746. He was educated
at King's College, and graduated in 1765. He
studied and practised law in that city with great
success. Near the commencement of the Ameri
can Revolution, he lost the office of recorder on
account of his attachment to liberty, and was
elected to the first general Congress of the colo
nies ; was one of the committee appointed to
prepare the Declaration of Independence ; in
1780 was appointed secretary of foreign affairs,
and throughout the war of the Revolution sig
nalized himself by his zeal and efficiency in the
revolutionary cause. At the adoption of the
constitution of New York, he was appointed.
chancellor of that State, which office he held un
til he went, in 1801, to France, as minister
plenipotentiary, appointed by President Jeffer
son. He was received by Napoleon Bonaparte,
then first consul, with marked respect and cor
diality ; and, during a residence of several years
in the French capital, the chancellor appeared
to be the favorite foreign envoy. He conducted,
with the aid of Mr. Monroe, the negotiation
which ended in the cession of Louisiana to the
United States ; took leave of the first consul
(1804), and made an extensive tour on the con
tinent of Europe. On his return from Paris, as
a private citizen, Napoleon, then emperor, pre
sented to him a splendid snuff-box, with a min
iature likeness of himself (Napoleon), painted by

716

APPENDIX.

the celebrated Isabey. It was in Paris that he
formed a friendship and close personal intimacy
with Robert Fulton, whom he materially as
sisted with counsel and money, to mature his
plans of steam navigation. In 1805, Mr. Liv
ingston returned to the United States, and
thenceforward employed himself in promoting
the arts and agriculture. He introduced into
the State of New York the use of gypsum and
the Merino race of sheep. He was president of
the New York Academy of Fine Arts, of which
he was a chief founder, and also of the Society
for the Promotion of Agriculture. He died
March 26, 1813, with the reputation of an able
statesman, a learned lawyer, and a most useful
citizen.

BRIGADIER-GENERAL HUGH MERCER.
We are indebted for the facts contained in
the following notice, to the address of William
B. Reed, Esq., delivered on the occasion of the
reinterment of General Mercer's remains, at
Laurel Hill, in 1840.
Hugh Mercer was born near Aberdeen, in
Scotland, about the year 1723; emigrated to
America in the year 1747, in consequence of his
participation in the rebellion of the Scotch, in
favor of the Pretender, Charles Edward, in the
two preceding years. To enter the service of
that unfortunate prince, he had quitted his occu
pation as a physician ; encountering the dread
penalties of treason, to aid the rebel cause by
his example, and its sick and wounded support
ers by his surgical skill. In the unfortunate
battle of Culloden, the cause of Charles Edward
was lost ; he himself became a wanderer, and
exile offered the only safety to his faithful fol
lowers. Among these, none was more worthy or more
devoted than Hugh Mercer, who settled in
Western Pennsylvania, near where now stands
the town of Mercersburg, in Franklin county.
His history presents a. complete blank from
this time until the breaking out of the French
and Indian war in 1755, when we find him en
gaged as a captain in a provincial force of three
hundred men, led by Colonel John Armstrong.
This body of troops, organized and equipped by

the legislature of Pennsylvania, marched in
1756 from Fort Shirley to the Alleghany River,
through a hostile country, and reached the In
dian town of Kittaning, within twenty-five miles
of the French garrison at Fort Du Quesne, with
out making their advance known to the enemy.
The town was immediately assaulted, and, after
a short and bloody conflict, carried by storm,
and totally destroyed. The principal Indian
chiefs were killed in the battle ; the provincial
officers of rank were nearly all wounded. " Cap
tain Mercer's company," says the covenanter
like report of Colonel Armstrong — " himself and
one man wounded — seven killed — himself and
ensign are missing." It was even so. He had
been severely wounded in the engagement, and
carried to the rear, and was accidentally left be
hind by the little army when it set out on its
return. On the night after the battle, he found
himself deserted and wounded, obliged to make
his way alone to the settlements, with death by
a hundred chances — by his wound, by wild
beasts, by the hands of his more wild enemies,
and by starvation — all before him. But his
spirit sunk not at the prospect. After reposing
a few hours upon the battle-field, he set out
upon his fearful pilgrimage. For weeks he
wandered through the forest, depending for sus
tenance upon its roots and berries ; and, finally,
when his strength seemed completely exhausted,
he reached Fort Cumberland.
Great must have been the sufferings of Mer
cer on this occasion, as we learn by the narra
tive of one who was acquainted with the facts,
that he actually killed a rattlesnake, and sub
sisted entirely on its flesh during several days
previous to his arrival at Fort Cumberland.
In the capacity of a lieutenant-colonel, he ac
companied the army of General Forbes, and was
left by him in charge of Fort Due Quesne after
its reduction. It was on this expedition that he
first became acquainted with the Virginia Col
onel, George Washington. The nature of the
trust confided to Colonel Mercer at this time,
may be learned from a letter written by Wash
ington to Governor Fauquier, in December,
1751. " The general," says he, " has in his let
ters told you what garrison he proposed to leave
at Fort Du Quesne, but the want of provisions

APPENDIX.

717

rendered it impossible to leave more than two
hundred men in all ; and these must, I fear, aban
don the place or perish. Our men left there are
in such a miserable condition, having hardly rags
to cover their nakedness, and exposed to the
inclemency of the weather in this rigorous sea
son, that sickness, death, and desertion, if they
are not speedily supplied, must destroy them."
Colonel Mercer, however, kept the garrison to
gether, and maintained the post until it was re
lieved, when he retired from the service, and
resumed the practice of his profession in Freder
icksburg, in Virginia.
Foremost among the citizens of Virginia to
enrol his name on the list of those who were
ready to raise the standard of freedom, Colonel
Mercer drew upon himself the public attention;
and in June, 1776, he was presented by Con
gress with a commission as a brigadier-general,
most probably at the instance of General Wash
ington himself. General Mercer accepted the
appointment, left his home, his wife and chil
dren, as it proved, forever, and joined the army
at New York. During the eventful campaign
of 1776, and the retreat through the Jerseys,
General Mercer was in the most active service,
under the immediate orders of General Wash
ington. In the darkest hours of the Revolution,
he shared the confidence and firmness of the
commander-in-chief, and concerted with him
and generals Greene and Reed the change in
the policy of the war, which first manifested it
self in the no less desperate than successful at
tack upon the Hessians at Trenton.
On the night of the 2d of January, 1777,
when the two hostile armies lay at Trenton, ex
pecting a battle in the morning, a council of war
was assembled to consider the alternative of a
battle with an overwhelming force, burning to
revenge the Hessians, or an impracticable, dis
piriting retreat. At that council, General Mer
cer proposed to boldly abandon the field, and
march upon Princeton and the magazines at
Brunswick. It seemed again the counsel of de
spair, but it was supported by the voice of rea
son and brave determination, and it was adopted
without dissent. The officers' hastened to the
head of their 'troops, and the daring plan was
-successfully executed before the dawn of day.
Vol. II.— 91

The tired soldiers of Britain slept soundly in
their tents, in anticipation of an easy victory on
the morrow, while their well-disciplined senti
nels listened in the still, cold night for any evi
dence of retreat on the part of the Americans.
They could not be deceived. There were the
American fires ; the American sentinels plainly
seen by their light, marching steadily to and
fro, and all the night long American soldiers
worked noisily in their intrenchments. At day
break, the sound of cannon announced that
Washington was at Princeton. General Mercer
led the van in the night march. At the dawn
of day, a large body of British troops was dis
covered on the march to Trenton, and Mercer
boldly threw his brigade between them and
their reserve at Princeton, to force on a general
action. Colonel Hazlet, however, fell, mortally
wounded by the first fire, and his troops were
thrown into momentary disorder, while General
Mercer's horse was killed, and he was left alone
and dismounted upon the field. Single-handed,
he encountered a detachment of the enemy. He
was beaten to the earth with the butt-ends of
their muskets, and savagely and mortally stabbed
with their bayonets. General Washington con
tinued the conflict, and won the victory by his
personal exposure and daring gallantry ; and
when the brief struggle was ended, General
Mercer was found upon the field, bleeding and
insensible, by his aid, Major Armstrong, the
son of the colonel under whom Mercer had
served at Kittaning. He was carried to a neigh
boring farm.7house, where he lingered in extreme
suffering until the 12th of January, when he ex
pired in the arms of Major Lewis, the nephew
of Washington. His body was brought to Phil
adelphia on the 14th of January, and buried in
Christ Church graveyard ; whence it was taken,
on the 26th of November, 1840, and reinterred,
with appropriate ceremonies, at Laurel Hill Cem
etery, Philadelphia.

MAJOR-GENERAL BENEDICT ARNOLD.
Benedict Arnold was born at Norwich, Con
necticut, on the 3d of January, 1740. He was
descended from one of the oldest and most ire-

718

APPENDIX.

spectable families in New England, — one of the
same name and family having been governor of
the colony of Rhode Island from 1662 to 1666,
and a prominent actor in all the affairs of that
colony from its first settlement until his death, in
1678. Benedict was apprenticed to the Brothers
Lathrop, a well-known firm of druggists, at Nor
wich, and discharged his duties with so much
satisfaction that, when his term of service ex
pired, they gave him five hundred pounds ster
ling to commence business with. He com
menced business, as a druggist and bookseller,
at New Haven, where he commanded the re
spect of his neighbors, and became the captain
of " The Governor's Guard," one of the oldest
military organizations in the Union.
When the " news from Lexington" reached
New Haven, Captain Arnold called his company
together, and forty men volunteered to accom-
pany him to Boston. Immediate preparations
were made for the journey, and the selectmen of
the town were applied to for a supply of ammu
nition. They refused to grant a supply, when
Captain Arnold marched his company to the
house where the selectmen were in session, and
sent word to the officials that if the keys of the
magazine were not delivered to him within five
minutes, he would order the doors to be broken
open, when they would help themselves. The
powder was procured, and the company went
on their way. At Pomfret the company was
joined by General Putnam, who went with them
to Boston ; and the fine appearance of the men
attracted great attention in the camp.
On his way to Boston he entertained1 the idea
of seizing Forts Ticonderoga and Crown Point,
and wrote to Connecticut on the subject. On
the same day that he reached Cambridge, he
addressed a letter to the Provincial Congress of
Massachusetts on the same subject, and was
authorized, a few days afterwards, to proceed to
the western part of the State and enlist four
hundred men for that purpose. In the mean
time, the governor and other leading gentlemen
in Connecticut, influenced probably by the letter
which Captain Arnold had written when on his
way to Boston, had sent forward a few men,
with orders to engage others on the way ; and
steps had been taken by securing the services

of Ethan Allen and his " Green Mountain Boys,"
to supplant Captain Arnold of the credit and
advantages arising from the expedition. This
movement was soon known to Captain Arnold,
and, leaving his subordinates to recruit and
bring forward the men, he hastened forward
with but one attendant, joined the rival expedi
tion at Castleton, and required obedience from
it by virtue of his commission. Violent dis
putes arose between him and Allen, and the
matter was at length compromised, each yield
ing to the other a joint command. When the
fort at Ticonderoga was surprised, Allen and
Arnold entered, side by side, at the head of the
troops. The strict discipline which Arnold had
been accustomed to require from his men, was
not congenial with the tastes of the frontiers
men under Allen, and troubles speedily followed.
A few days afterwards he took possession of St.
John's ; but subsequently, after vainly endeav
oring to maintain order, he was superseded,
and returned to Cambridge, a victim of his de
sire to maintain order among men whose only
object seemed to be to appropriate to their own
use what their country needed, and had sent
them out to secure.
While he was engaged in settling his accounts
with the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts,
he was invited by General Washington to take
the command of an expedition which the com
mander-in-chief had determined ro send through
the wilderness of Maine, to co-operate with Gen
eral Montgomery in an attack upon Quebec.
For this purpose he left Cambridge, with a
thousand picked men, on the 14th of September ;
on the 18th he embarked at Newburyport ; and
on the 24th he debarked at Fort Western,
where the capital of the State of Maine now
stands. Proceeding thence through the un
broken wilderness towards Quebec, for five
weeks his command experienced the most in
tense hardships, and overcame difficulties of the
severest character, reaching the St. Lawrence
on the 5th of November, and Point Levi, oppo
site Quebec, four days afterwards. Colonel
Arnold was detained there, by a storm, until
the 14th of November, when he crossed the
river, ascended the heights up which Wolfe had
climbed before him, and formed his little party

APPENDIX.

719

— less than seven hundred in number — on the
plains above. Having no artillery, and one-
third of his muskets having been rendered use
less in his journey through the wilderness, he
could do nothing except summon the town to
surrender ; and he soon afterwards retired to
Point aux Trembles, twenty miles up the river,
and awaited the approach of General Montgom
ery. On the 1st of December, General Mont
gomery having reached Point aux Trembles,
the combined forces moved forward to Quebec ;
but the garrison had, meanwhile, been strength
ened by the addition of crews from the vessels
in the port, of unemployed men in the town,
and some tradesmen, by the arrival of Governor
Carlton, and by the intense cold of a Canadian
winter. After some time spent in cannonading
the town, the commanders resolved to storm it ;
and, on the 31st of December, early in the
morning, the assault was made simultaneously
by General Montgomery and Colonel Arnold,
on opposite sides of the town. Resolutely en
tering the works, General Montgomery was
killed at the head of his command, and Colonel
Arnold was severely wounded at the head of
his column, when the assailants were compelled
to retire from the town, with the loss of sixty
killed and wounded and three hundred prison
ers. The blockade of Quebec was continued
until spring, when it was broken up, and Col
onel Arnold, then only a subordinate officer,
shortly afterwards left Canada.
He afterwards took the command of a squad
ron of small vessels, which had been constructed
to oppose the progress of General Guy Carlton
up Lake Champlain ; and, although opposed by
a heavier force, manned with experienced sea
men, and abundantly provided with artillery
and ammunition, he boldly sustained the ene
my's attack on the 11th, and afterwards on the
13th of October; and, although defeated, he
prevented all, except two small vessels, from
falling into the hands of the enemy.
For his gallantry at Quebec, Congress made
him a brigadier-general, and in August, 1777,
he volunteered to take the command of a force
sent out to relieve Colonel Gansevoort, then be
sieged in Fort Schuyler, by Colonel St. Leger.
At the first battle at Stillwater, on the 19th

of September, 1777, he commanded the right
wing of the army ; and to his desperate courage
and good judgment, the country is indebted for
the victory which rested on the American ban
ners after that terrible struggle, leading eventu
ally to the capture of General Burgoyne. In
the second battle at the same place, on the 7th
of October, General Arnold had no command, —
the jealousy of General Gates having deprived
him not only of the privilege of commanding,
but also of fighting ; but his thirst for glory, his
love of country, and his indignation at the in
dignity heaped upon him by his commander,
maddened his feelings, and he again rushed into
the field of conflict. The troops received him
with loud huzzas, and, throwing himself at the
head of Larned's brigade, he rushed on the cen
tre of the British lines with the impetuosity of a
tiger. Repulsed at his first onset, he led them
on a second time, and drove them before him.
General Gates, seeing his movements, sent an aid
after him, with orders to bring him back ; but
the aid could not reach him, and Gates was com
pelled, in order to secure it, to adorjt other and
less honorable means to deprive Arnold of the
glory of the second victory. Every part of the
field was subject to his careful supervision ;
every order was delivered in person ; every
regiment was animated by his example ; every
brigade was led, alternately, into action by him ;
and victory followed him wherever he went.
At length he was wounded, and his horse was
killed under him, when the faithful aid of Gen
eral Gates was enabled to reach him, with orders
to retire from the field — the victory then being
nearly complete, of the glory of which not one
iota ever fell, officially, to the share of Arnold.
In consequence of his wound rendering him
unfit for active duty, he was appointed governor
of Philadelphia, where he indiscreetly became
united by marriage with a daughter of Judge
Shippen, a prominent loyalist family of that city.
Living in a style which his income could not
support, especially since he could not obtain pay
ment from Congress either for his disbursements
or his pay, his creditors became troublesome,
and the tongue of detraction, stimulated by
those whose pretensions he had abridged, be
came both loud and troublesome. Charges

720

APPENDIX.

which were preferred against him were nomi
nally sustained, and he was subjected to an
equally nominal reprimand from the commander-
in-chief. Shortly afterwards, General Washington of
fered to him the command of the right wing of
the army ; but his wounds still troubling him,
he asked an easier position, and the command
of West Point was given to him.
It was while he occupied this post that he
corresponded with the enemy through the me
dium of his wife, and became a traitor to his
country. With the details of the plot, the pas
sage of the Vulture up the river, the interviews
with Major Ardre, the communication of intelli
gence to that officer, the arrest and execution
of the spy, the escape of the traitor, and the
subsequent events depending thereon, every
school-boy of our country is familiar.
He was made a brigadier-general in the Brit
ish army, and shortly afterwards issued an ad
dress to the inhabitants of America, in which he
endeavors to justify his conduct. Shortly after
wards he issued an address to the army, in
which he sought to induce the officers and men
to abandon the cause and enlist under the
royal banners.
In January, 1781, he commanded an expedi
tion which ravaged the coast of Virginia ; and
in September of the same year he commanded
a similar expedition against Connecticut, in
which the garrison of Fort Griswold, near New
London, was mercilessly butchered.
At the close of the war he went to England,
and appears to have engaged in trade, visiting
New Brunswick and the West Indies in that
pursuit. He died in London, on the 14th of June,
1801, aged sixty-one years. His country and
the world owe him more than they will ever
liquidate ; and his defection can never obliterate
the solid services and the ample abuse which
preceded it.

AARON BURR.

Aaron Burr was born in Newark, New Jersey,
on the 6th of February, 1756. His father, Aaron
Burr, was president of the College of New Jer

sey, which was opened at Newark, but was sub
sequently removed to Princeton. His mother
was the daughter of the celebrated metaphysi
cian and divine, the Reverend Jonathan Ed
wards. The younger Aaron Burr was graduated
at Princeton when only sixteen years of age.
At the age of twenty he joined the army then
engaged in the siege of Boston. He volun
teered to accompany Arnold in the famous ex
pedition against Quebec, by way of the Kennebec
River. Having endured with wonderful forti
tude all the fatigues and trials of that celebrated
march through the wilderness of Maine, young
Burr was appointed aid-de-camp to General
Montgomery. In this capacity he was present
at the siege of Quebec, and was near General
Montgomery at the time he was killed.
On his return from Canada, in May, 1776,. he
proceeded to New York on a verbal invitation
from Washington ; but he failed to make a
favorable impression on that unerring judge of
character, and becoming dissatisfied himself, he
was on the point of quitting the service ; but
having, at the instance of Governor Hancock,
obtained the appointment of aid-de-camp to
General Putnam, he accepted it with alacrity.
His rank at this time was that of major. In
July, 1777, he was promoted to the rank of
lieutenant-colonel. He continued to serve till
1779, when his health having become seriously
impaired, he was obliged to quit the service.
During his continuance in it he had distin
guished himself by his bravery and capacity,
and had been employed on important occasions
by Washington, notwithstanding the low esti
mate he had formed of the young officer's char
acter. On recovering his health, Colonel Burr applied
himself to the study of the law, and was ad
mitted to the bar. He commenced practice at
Albany in April, 1782, and met with decided
success. He was married in July, 1782. After
the evacuation of New York by the British
(in November, 1783), he removed to that city,
where he practised law with remarkable success.
He was elected a member of the State legis- o
lature in 1784 and 1785, and in 1789 he was ap
pointed attorney-general of the State. In Jan
uary, 1791, he was elected a senator of the

APPENDIX.

•21

United States, and took a decided part as a
member of the anti-federal party. In October,
1792, he was appointed a judge of the supreme
court of the State of New York, but he de
clined that honor, preferring the more active
life of a political partisan in the Senate. At the
presidential election in 1800, Colonel Burr and
Mr. Jefferson received an equal number of votes,
and the election devolving on the House of
Representatives, thirty-six ballotings were held
before Mr Jefferson was elected to the presi
dency. Colonel Burr became vice-president.
As in this contest Burr received support from
the federalists, and endeavored to defeat the
real candidate of his own party for the presi
dency, he of course lost the confidence of his
former political friends.
In 1805 Colonel Burr became a candidate for
the office of governor of the State of New
York. Colonel Alexander Hamilton was at
that time in the meridian of his fame, and the
rival of Burr in business and reputation. Hav
ing confidence in the integrity of Burr, he ex
pressed his opinions, and- refusing to retract
them, was challenged to fight a duel. The
challenge was accepted, and Hamilton was mor
tally wounded. Soon after this most disastrous
affair, Colonel Burr relinquished his former em
ployments and led a life full of mystery. He
made frequent journeys to the West, and it soon
became apparent that he was preparing an ex
pedition, the purpose of which was unknown.
But the government of the United States,
suspecting him of the design of separating the
Western States from the Union, caused his
movements to be narrowly watched, and at
length its agents arrested him. He was brought
to trial at Richmond, Virginia, in August and
September, 1807, first upon the charge of trea
son, and then upon that of misdemeanor ; but
the evidence was insufficient to convict him upon
either charge. Yet the popular opinion was de
cisively against him, and in June, 1 808, he was
induced to go to England. He remained abroad
four years, and then, returning to New York,
resumed the practice of the law. He declined
several tempting offers of command from the
Spanish-American republics. During his long
residence in New York, he was never heard of

in political life, and passed out of the notice of
the general public in his own country.
Colonel Burr died on the 14th of September,
1836, in the eighty-first year of his age, on Staten
Island, where he had passed the summer for the
benefit of the pure air. Agreeably to his own
request, his mortal remains were conveyed to
Princeton, to be there buried.
" The character of Colonel Burr," says a late
writer, " has excited a great deal of discussion.
By the majority he is regarded as, the Sergius
Catiline of the American Republic — a bold,
artful, eloquent, but selfishly ambitious and cor
rupt man. His private life was undeniably dis
solute, and in public life he displayed more of
the mere political intriguer than any of his
American contemporaries. As to the precise
character 'of his schemes in the West, the world
knows nothing, but suspects much that is to be
condemned. In the latter part of his life, Colo
nel Burr certainly rejected several splendid op
portunities for attaining power in the Spanish-
American republics — opportunities that most
ambitious men would have eagerly seized. Upon
the whole, however, it is to be regretted that a
man of such energy and ability had not pos
sessed a purer and more honest heart."

THOMAS PAINE.

It is a curious historical fact, that the writer,
who is considered to have exerted most in
fluence in preparing the American mind for the
decisive measure of declaring their independ
ence, was by birth an Englishman. This cir
cumstance, however, in 1776, attracted less at
tention than it does at the present time. All the
colonists were British subjects, and the dispute
was considered like any other political dissen
sion. All took sides without regard to the
place of their birth. Lee, Gates, Montgomery,
Lord Stirling, and many others, were not Amer
icans by birth, but they were placed by the gov
ernment upon precisely the same footing with
the colonists, namely, as British subjects revolt
ing against their lawful sovereign. The follow
ing notice of Paine's career, which we tran
scribe from Appleton's Cyclopedia of Biography,

722

APPENDIX.

will show that he regarded himself as a sort of
cosmopolite, whose mission was to contend for
the rights of man in all countries :
" Thomas Paine, a deistical and political wri
ter, was born in 1737, at Thetford, in Norfolk,
where his father, who was a Quaker, carried on
the business of a staymaker, and brought up his
son to it. He, however, subsequently became
an exciseman, and was living at Lewes, in Sus
sex, when he lost his situation in consequence of
keeping a tobacconist's shop, which was consid
ered incompatible with his duties. His literary
abilities having appeared in a pamphlet com
posed by him in order to show the necessity of
advancing the salaries of excisemen, he was in
troduced to Dr. Franklin, who urged him to go
to America, and use his pen in behalf of the
colonies. He accordingly went there, and
reached Philadelphia in 1774. At first he con
ducted the Pennsylvania Gazette, which, from
the boldness of its arguments, attracted consid
erable notice. He then published his celebrated
pamphlet entitled ' Common Sense,' which, be
ing written with great vigor and addressed to a
highly excited population, had a prodigious
sale, and undoubtedly accelerated the famous
Declaration of Independence. For this produc
tion the legislature of Pennsylvania voted him
five hundred pounds. He was afterwards, also,
rewarded with a grant of five hundred acres of
well-cultivated land from the State of New
York, and made clerk to the committee for for
eign affairs. While in this office he published a
series of political pamphlets, on what he termed
the 'Crisis.' In 1787 he embarked for France,
and, after visiting Paris, went to England, with
a view to the prosecution of a project relative
to the construction of an iron bridge, of his own
invention, at Rotherham, in Yorkshire. This
scheme involved him in considerable difficulties,
but his writings, in which he foretold, or rather
recommended, the change that was approach
ing in France, brought him a supply of money.
On the appearance of Burke's Reflections on the
French Revolution, he wrote the first part of his
celebrated ' Rights of Man,' in answer to that
work. The second part was published early in
1792 ; and, May the 21st, in that year, a proc
lamation issued against wicked and seditious

publications, evidently alluded to, though it did
not name, the ' Rights of Man.' On the same
day, the attorney-general commenced a prosecu
tion against Paine as the author of that work.
While the trial was pending, he was chosen
member of the National Convention for the de
partment of Calais ; and, making his escape, he
set off for France, and arrived there in Sep
tember, 1792. The garrison of Calais were
under arms to receive this ' friend of liberty,'
the tri-colored cockade was presented to him
by the mayor, and the handsomest woman in
the town was selected to place it in his hat.
Meantime, Paine had been declared in Paris
worthy of the honors of citizenship, and he pro
ceeded thither, where he was received with
every demonstration of extravagant joy. On
the trial of Louis XVI, he voted against the
sentence of death, proposing his imprisonment
during the war, and his banishment afterwards.
This conduct offended the Jacobins, and, to
wards the close of 1793, he was excluded from
the convention, on the ground of being a for
eigner (though naturalized) ; and, immediately
after, he was arrested, and committed to the
Luxembourg. Just before his confinement, he
had finished the first part of his work entitled
the ' Age of Reason ;' and, having confided it
to the care of his friend Joel Barlow, it was
published. On the fall of Robespierre he was
released. In 1795 he published the second part
of his 'Age of Reason ;' and, in May, 1796, he
addressed to the Council of Five Hundred a
work entitled • ' Decline and Fall of the System
of Finance in England,' and also published his
pamphlet, entitled ' Agrarian Justice.' Fearful
of being captured by English cruisers, he re
mained in France till August, 1802, when he
embarked for America, and reached Baltimore
the following October. His subsequent life was
by no means happy ; for, although occupied in
various mechanical speculations, and other en
grossing pursuits, and possessed of a decent
competence, his attacks upon religion had ex
ceedingly narrowed his circle of acquaintance ;
and his habitual intemperance tended to the in
jury of his health, and the ultimate production
of a complication of disorders, to which he fell a
victim in 1809. The Quakers refused to admit

APPENDIX.

723

his remains among their dead, and he was bur
ied on his own farm. Cobbett boasted of having
disinterred him in 1817, and brought his body
to England ; many, however, assert that Cob
bett did not take that trouble, but brought over
from America the remains of a criminal who
had been executed.

COMMODORE TRUXTON.
Thomas Truxton was born on Long Island,
in the State of New York, February 17, 1755.
At the age of twelve years he went to sea. He
was impressed, during his apprenticeship, on
board the Prudent, an English sixty-four, but
was subsequently released. In the early part
of 1775, while in command of a ship, he was
successful in bringing considerable quantities of
powder into the United Colonies, but was sub
sequently in the same year, captured and carried
into St. Christopher's. Having made his escape,
and arrived in Philadelphia, he entered, as lieu
tenant, on board the Congress, one of the two
first private armed ships fitted out in the colo
nies. This ship sailed in company with the
Chance, in the winter of 1776, and captured
several valuable ships off the Havana, one of
which he took the command of and arrived in
her at Bedford, Massachusetts.
In June, 1777, in a vessel called the Indepen
dence, and fitted out by himself and Isaac Sears,
Esquire, he sailed for the Azores, and made
many prizes. He now changed his ship, and
sailed in the Mars, of upwards of twenty guns.
In this cruise off the British Channel, he sent his
prizes into Quiberon Bay, which induced Lord
Stormont to make a remonstrance to the French
court. During the whole war he was constantly
engaged either in fitting out or commanding
ships of war from Philadelphia. While carry
ing to France, Thomas Barclay, Esquire, our
consul-general to that country, in the ship St.

James, of twenty guns, he had a very close en
gagement with a British private ship of thirty-
two guns, which he obliged to steer off. In all
his engagements with the British he was vic
torious. From the peace of 1783 until 1794,
he was very actively engaged in commercial
pursuits. During the quasi war with France,
he was appointed one of the six captains of the
American navy ; and after building the frigate
Constellation, he sailed, at the head of a squad
ron, for the West Indies, in the early part of
1799. In February 9th of that year, he captured,
after an engagement of one hour and a quarter,
the French frigate l'lnsurgente of fifty-four
guns. This was the first opportunity offered to
an American frigate of engaging an enemy of
superior force.
In a short time the Constellation was again
at sea, and soon encountered, February 1, 1800,
the French frigate La Vengeance of fifty-four
guns. An action ensued, which lasted from
eight in the morning until one, when the enemy
was completely silenced, and her flag struck. A
squall ensued, which enabled the French ship to
effect her escape and to arrive in Curapoa, in a
most shattered condition, having lost one hun
dred and sixty men, killed and wounded. Con
gress voted a gold medal to the commodore,
for the gallantry displayed in this action. This
was Truxton's last cruise. Having, during the
administration of Mr. Jefferson, been appointed
to the command of the expedition against Trip
oli, he was denied the assistance of a captain
to command his flag-ship (a custom which had
always prevailed), and therefore declined the
command of the expedition ; which was con
strued by the president into a resignation of his
rank in the service, and he was therefore dis
missed. Commodore Truxton retired to the
country, where he continued to reside, till the
citizens of Philadelphia, in 1816, elected him
their high-sheriff. He continued in that office
till 1819, and died May 5, 1822, in his sixty-
seventh year.

724

APPENDIX.

WASHINGTON'S WILL.
[We give below the Will of Washington, to
gether with his own schedule of his property,
and his notes on the same. At the time of his
marriage in 1759, according to the authority of
Mr. Sparks, Washington increased his property
to one hundred thousand dollars. Forty years
afterwards, in 1799, it had increased to five
hundred and thirty thousand dollars. One is
naturally curious to know how this increase was
effected ; since his public services as commander-
in-chief and president brought nothing but loss.
A reference to the Will and schedule explains it.
Besides the profit from the culture of his estate,
there was a large profit for land purchased at
various times, and increased in value by the ad
vance of the country.
One item (lands on the Ohio River) amounts
to near three hundred thousand dollars. These
lands were probably his share of the grant to
the soldiers of the Old French War by the State
of Virginia. The reader will recollect that
Washington visited the western country and
selected these lands in 1770. His own share
in these lands as commander-in-chief of the
Virginia forces must have been considerable,
and the increase in value, of what he calls the
best land in Ohio, must have been immense.]
IN THE NAME OF GOD, AMEN.
I, Gboege Washington, of Mount Vernon,
a citizen of the United States, and lately presi
dent of the same, do make, ordain, and declare
this instrument, which is written with my own
hand, and every page thereof subscribed with
my name,* to be my last Will and Testament,
revoking all others.
Imprimis. — All my debts, of which there are
but few, and none of magnitude, are to be punc
tually and speedily paid, and the legacies, herein
after bequeathed, are to be discharged as soon
as circumstances will permit, and in the manner
directed. Item. — To my dearly beloved wife, Martha
° In the original manuscript, George Washington's
name is written at the bottom of every page.

Washington, I give and bequeath the use, profit,
and benefit of my whole estate, real and person
al, for the term of her natural life, except such
parts thereof as are specially disposed of here
after. My improved lot in the town of Alex
andria, situated on Pitt and Cameron streets, I
give to her and her heirs forever ; as I also do
my household and kitchen furniture of every
sort and kind, with the liquors and groceries
which may be on hand at the time of my de
cease, to be used and disposed of as she may
think proper.
Item.— Upon the decease of my wife, it is
my will and desire that all the slaves whom I
hold in my own right shall receive their free
dom. To emancipate them during her life would,
though earnestly wished by me, be attended
with such insuperable difficulties, on account of
their intermixture by marriage with the dower
negroes, as to excite the most painful sensations,
if not disagreeable consequences to the latter,
while both descriptions are in the occupancy of
the same proprietor ; it not being in my power,
under the tenure by which the dower negroes
are held, to manumit them. And whereas,
among those who will receive freedom accord
ing to this device, there may be some, who,
from old age or bodily infirmities, and others,
who, on account of their infancy, will be unable
to support themselves, it is my will and desire,
that all, who come under the first and second
description, shall be comfortably clothed and
fed by my heirs while they live ; and that such
of the latter description as have no parents liv
ing, or, if living, are unable or unwilling to
provide for them, shall be bound by the court
until they shall arrive at the age of twenty-five
years; and, in cases where no record can be
produced, whereby their ages can be ascertained,
the judgment of the court, upon its own view
of the subject, shall be adequate and final. The
negroes thus bound, are (by their masters or
mistresses) to be taught to read and write, and
to be brought up to some useful occupation,
agreeably to the laws of the Commonwealth of
Virginia, providing for the support of orphan
and other poor children. And I do hereby ex
pressly forbid the sale or transportation out of
the said Commonwealth of any slave I may die

APPENDIX.

725

possessed of, under any pretence whatsoever.
And I do, moreover, most pointedly and most
solemnly enjoin it upon my executors hereafter
named, or the survivors of them, to see that
this clause respecting slaves, and every part
thereof, be religiously fulfilled at the ep'och at
which it is directed to take place, without eva
sion, neglect, or delay, after the crops which
may then be on the ground are harvested, par
ticularly as it respects the aged and infirm ;
seeing that a regular and permanent fund be
established for their support, as long as there
are subjects requiring it ; not trusting to the
uncertain provision to be made by individuals.
And to my mulatto man, William, calling him
self William Lee, I give immediate freedom,
or, if he should prefer it (on account of the ac
cidents which have befallen him, and which
have rendered him incapable of walking, or- of
any active employment), to remain in the situa
tion he now is, it shall be optional in him to do
so ; in either case, however, I allow him an
annuity of thirty dollars, during his natural life,
which shall be independent of the victuals and
clothes he has been accustomed to receive,
if he chooses the last alternative ; but in full
with his freedom, if he prefers the first ; and
this I give him, as a testimony of my sense of
his attachment to me, and for his faithful servi
ces during the Revolutionary War.
Item. — To the trustees (governors, or by
whatsoever other name they may be designated)
of the Academy in the town of Alexandria, I
give and bequeath, in trust, four thousand dol
lars, or in other words, twenty of the shares
which I hold in the Bank of Alexandria, towards
the support of a free-school, established at, and
annexed to, the said Academy, for the purpose
of educating such orphan children, or the chil
dren of such other poor and indigent persons,
as are unable to accomplish it with their own
means, and who, in the judgment of the trustees
of the said seminary, are best entitled to the
benefit of this donation. The aforesaid twenty
shares I give and bequeath in perpetuity ; the
dividends only of which are to be drawn for
and applied, by the said trustees for the time
being, for the uses above mentioned ; the stock
to remain entire and untouched, unless indica-
Voi. IL— 92

tions of failure of the said bank should be so
apparent, or a discontinuance thereof, should
render a removal of this fund necessary. In
either of these cases, the amount of the stock
here devised is to be vested in some other bank,
or pubhc institution, whereby the interest may
with regularity and certainty be drawn and ap
plied as above. And to prevent misconception,
my meaning is, and is hereby declared to be,
that these twenty shares are in lieu of, and not
in addition to, the thousand pounds given by a
missive letter some years ago, in consequence
whereof an annuity of fifty pounds has since
been paid towards the support of this insti
tution. Item. — Whereas, by a law of the Common
wealth of Virginia, enacted in the year 1785,
the legislature thereof was pleased, as an evi
dence of its approbation of the services I had
rendered the public during the Revolution, and
partly, I believe, in consideration of my having
suggested the vast advantages which the com
munity would derive from the extension of its
inland navigation under legislative patronage,
to present me with one hundred shares, of one
hundred dollars each, in the incorporated Com
pany, established for the purpose of extend
ing the navigation of James River from the
tide-water to the mountains ; and also with fifty
shares, of one hundred pounds sterling each, in
the corporation of another Company, likewise
established for the similar purpose of opening
the navigation of the River Potomac from the
tide-water to Fort Cumberland ; the acceptance
of which, although the offer was highly honor
able and grateful to my feelings, was refused, as
inconsistent with a principle which I had adopted,
and had never departed from, viz., not to receive
pecuniary compensation for any services I could
render my country in its arduous struggle with
Great Britain for its rights, and because I had
evaded similar propositions from other States
in the Union ; adding to this refusal, however,
an intimation, that, if it should be the pleasure
of the legislature to permit me to appropriate
the said shares to public uses, I would receive
them on those terms with due sensibility ; and
this it having consented to, in flattering terms,
as will appear by a subsequent law, and sundry

726

APPENDIX.

resolutions, in the most ample and honorable
manner ; — I proceed after this recital, for the
more correct understanding of the case, to de
clare ; that, as it has always been a source of
serious regret with me, to see the youth of these
United States sent to foreign countries for the
purpose of education, often before their minds
were formed, or they had imbibed any adequate
ideas of happiness of their own ; contracting too
frequently, not only habits of dissipation and
extravagance, but principles unfriendly to re
publican government, and to the true and gen
uine liberties of mankind, which thereafter are
rarely overcome ; for these reasons it has been
my ardent wish to see a plan devised on a liberal
scale, which would have a tendency to spread
systematic ideas through all parts of this rising
empire, thereby to do away local attachments
and State prejudices, as far as the nature of
things would, or indeed ought to admit, from
our national councils. Looking anxiously for
ward to the accomplishment of so desirable an
object as this is (in my estimation), my mind
has not been able to contemplate any plan more
likely to effect the measure, than the establish
ment of a Univeesity in a central part of the
United States, to which the youths of fortune
and talents from all parts thereof may be sent
for the completion of their education, in all the
branches of polite literature, in arts and scien
ces, in acquiring knowledge in the principles of
polities and good government, and, as a matter
of infinite importance in my judgment, by asso
ciating with each other, and forming friendships
in juvenile years, be enabled to free themselves
in a proper degree from those local prejudices
and habitual jealousies which have just been
mentioned, and which, when carried to excess,
are never-failing sources of disquietude to the
public mind, and pregnant of mischievous con
sequences to this country. Under these im
pressions, so fully dilated,
Item. — I give and bequeath, in perpetuity,
the fifty shares Avhich I hold in the Po
tomac Company (under the aforesaid acts of
the Legislature of Virginia), towards the en
dowment of a University, to be established
within the limits of the District of Columbia,
under the auspices of the general government,

if that government should incline to extend a
fostering hand towards it ; and, until such semi
nary is established, and the funds arising on
these shares shall be required for its support,
my further will and desire is, that the profit
accruing therefrom shall, whenever the divi
dends are made, be laid out in purchasing stock
in the Bank of Columbia, or some other bank,
at the discretion of my executors, or by the
Treasurer of the United States for the time be
ing, under the direction of Congress, provided
that honorable body should patronize the meas
ure : and the dividends proceeding from the
purchase of such stock are to be vested in more
stock, and so on, until a sum adequate to the
accomplishment of the object is obtained ; of
which I have not the smallest doubt before many
years pass away, even if no aid or encourage
ment is given by the legislative authority, or
from any other source.
Item. — The hundred shares which I hold in
the James River Company, I have given, and
now confirm in perpetuity, to and for the use
and benefit of Liberty Hall Academy, in the
county of Rockbridge, in the Commonwealth
of Virginia.
Item. — I release, exonerate, and discharge the
estate of my deceased brother, Samuel Wash
ington, from the payment of the money which
is due to me for the land I sold to Philip Pen
dleton (lying in the county of Berkeley), who
assigned the same to him, the said Samuel, who
by agreement was to pay me therefor. And
whereas, by some contract (the purport of which
was never communicated to me) between the
said Samuel and his son, Thornton Washington,
the latter became possessed of the aforesaid land,
without any conveyance having passed from me,
either to the said Pendleton, the said Samuel,
or the said Thornton, and without any consider
ation having been made, by which neglect
neither the legal nor equitable title has been
alienated ; it rests therefore with me to declare
my intentions concerning the premises; and
these are, to give and bequeath the said land to
whomsoever the said Thornton Washington
(who is also dead) devised the same, or to his
heirs forever,- if he died intestate ; exonerating
the estate of the said Thornton, equally with

APPENDIX.

727

that of the said Samuel, from payment of the
purchase money, which, with interest, agreeably
to the original contract with the said Pendleton,
would amount to more than a thousand pounds.
And whereas two other sons of my said deceased
brother Samuel, namely, George Steptoe Wash
ington and Lawrence Augustine Washington,
were, by the decease of those to whose care
they were committed, brought under my pro
tection, and, in consequence, have occasioned
advances on my part, for their education at col
lege and other schools, for their board, cloth
ing, and other incidental expenses, to the amount
of near five thousand dollars, over and above
the sums furnished by their estate, which sum
it may be inconvenient for them or their father's
estate to refund ; I do for these reasons acquit
them and the said estate from the payment
thereof, my intention being, that all accounts
between them and me, and their father's estate
and me, shall stand balanced.
Item. — The balance due to me from the estate
of Bartholomew Dandrige, deceased (my wife's
brother), and which amounted on the first day
of October, 1795, to four hundred and twenty-
five pounds (as will appear by an account ren
dered by his deceased son, John Dandridge,
who was the acting executor of his father's will),
I release and acquit from the payment thereof.
And the negroes, then thirty-three in number,
formerly belonging to the said estate, who were
taken in execution, sold, and purchased in on
my account, in the year {blank), and ever since
have remained in the possession and to the use
of Mary, widow of the said Bartholomew Dan
dridge, with their increase, it is my will and desire
shall continue and be in her possession, without
paying hire, or making compensation for the
same for the time past, or to come, during her
natural life ; at the expiration of which, I direct
that all . of them who are forty years old and
upwards shall receive their freedom; and all
under that age, and above sixteen, shall serve
seven years and no longer ; and all under six
teen years shall serve until they are twenty-five
years of age, and then be free. And, to avoid
disputes respecting the ages of any of these
negroes, they are to be taken into the court of
the county in which they reside, and the judg

ment thereof, in this relation, shall be final, and
record thereof made, which may be adduced as
evidence at any time thereafter, if disputes
should arise concerning the same. And I further
direct, that the heirs of the said Bartholomew
Dandridge shall equally share the benefits aris
ing from the services of the said negroes, ac
cording to the tenor of this devise, upon the
decease of their mother.
Item. — If Charles Carter, who intermarried
with my niece, Betty Lewis, is not sufficiently
secured in the title to the lots he had of me in
the town of Fredericksburg, it is my will and
desire, that my executors shall make such con
veyances of them as the law requires to render
it perfect. Item. — To my nephew, William Augustine
Washington, and his heirs (if he should con
ceive them to be objects worth prosecuting), a
lot in the town of Manchester (opposite to
Richmond), No. '265, drawn on my sole account,
and also the tenth of one or two hundred acre
lots, and two or three half-acre lots, in the city
and vicinity of Richmond, drawn in partnership
with nine others, all in the lottery of the deceased
William Byrd, are given ; as is also a lot which
I purchased of John Blood, conveyed by Wil
liam Willie and Samuel Gordon, trustees of
the said John DTood, numbered 139, in the town
of Edinburgh, in the county of Prince George,
State of Virginia.
Item. — To my nephew, Bushrod Washing
ton,* I give and bequeath all the papers in my
possession, which relate to my civil and military
administration of the affairs of this country. I
leave to him also such of my private papers as
are worth preserving ; and at the decease of my
wife, and before, if she is not inclined to retain
them, I give and bequeath my library of books
and pamphlets of every kind.
Item. — Having sold lands which I possessed
in the State of Pennsylvania, and part of a tract
held in equal right with George Clinton, late
<* As General Washington never had any children, he
gave the larger part of his property to his nephews and
nieces, and the children of Mrs. Washington's son by
her first marriage. The principal heir was Bushrod
Washington, son of his brother, John Augustine Wash
ington.

728

APPENDIX.

governor of New York, in the State of New
York, my share of land and interest in the
Great Dismal Swamp, and a tract of land which
I owned in the county of Gloucester, — with
holding the legal titles thereto, until the con
sideration money should be paid, — and having
moreover leased and conditionally sold (as will
appear by the tenor of the said leases) all my
lands upon the Great Kenhawa, and a tract
upon Difficult Run, in the county of Loudoun,
it is my will and direction, that whensoever the
contracts are fully and respectively complied
with, according to the spirit, true intent, and
meaning thereof, on the part of the purchasers,
their heirs or assigns, that then, and in that case,
conveyances are to be made, agreeably to the
terms of the said contracts, and the money aris
ing therefrom, when paid, to be vested in bank
stock ; the dividends whereof, as of that also
which is already vested therein, are to inure to
my said wife during her life ; but the stock it
self is to remain and be subject to the general
distribution hereafter directed.
Item. — To the Earl of Buchan I recommit
the " Box made of the Oak that sheltered the
great Sir William Wallace, after the battle of
Falkirk," presented to me by his Lordship, in
terms too flattering for me to repeat, with a re
quest " to pass it, on the event of my decease,
to the man in my country who should apjDear
to merit it best, upon the same conditions that
have induced him to send it to me." Whether
easy or not to select the man, who might com
port with his Lordship's opinion in this respect,
is not for me to say ; but, conceiving that no
disposition of this valuable curiosity can be
more eligible than the recommitment of it to
his own cabinet, agreeably to the original design
of the Goldsmiths' Company of Edinburgh, who
presented it to him, and, at his request, con
sented that it should be transferred to me, I do
give and bequeath the same to his Lordship ;
and, in case of his decease, to his heir, with my
grateful thanks for the distinguished honor of
presenting it to me, and more especially for the
favorable sentiments with which he accom
panied it.
Item. — To my brother, Charles Washington,
I give and bequeath the gold-headed cane left

me by Dr. Franklin in his will. I add nothing
to it, because of the ample provision I have
made for his issue. To the acquaintances and
friends of my juvenile years, Lawrence Wash
ington and Robert Washington, of Chotanck, I
give my other two gold-headed canes, having
my arms engraved on them ; and to each, as
they will be useful where they live, I leave one
of the spyglasses, which constituted part of my
equipage during the late war. To my com
patriot in arms, and old and intimate friend,
Dr. Craik, I give my bureau (or, as the cabinet
makers call it, tambour secretary) and the cir
cular chair, an appendage of my study. To Dr.
David Stuart I give my large shaving and dress
ing table, and my telescope. To the Reverend,
now Bryan, Lord Fairfax, I give a Bible, in
three large folio volumes, with notes, presented
to me by the Right Reverend Thomas Wilson,
Bishop of Sodor and Man. To General de
Lafayette I give a pair of finely-wrought steel
pistols, taken from the enemy in the Revolu
tionary War. To my sisters-in-law, BTannah
Washington and Mildred Washington, to my
friends, Eleanor Stuart, BTannah Washington,
of Fairfield, and Elizabeth Washington, of
Hayfield, I give each a mourning ring, of the
value of one hundred dollars. These bequests
are not made for the intrinsic value of them,
but as mementos of my esteem and regafd. To
Tobias Lear I give the use of the farm, which
he now holds in virtue of a lease from me to
him and his deceased wife (for and during their
natural lives), free from rent during his fife; at
the expiration of which, it is to be disposed of
as is hereinafter directed. To Sally B. LTaynie
(a distant relation of mine), I give and be
queath three hundred dollars. To Sarah Green,
daughter of the deceased Thomas Bishop, and
to Ann Walker, daughter of John Alton, also
deceased, I give each one hundred dollars, in
consideration of the attachment of their fathers
to me ; each of whom having lived nearly forty
years in my family. To each of my nephews,
William Augustine Washington, George Lewis,
George Steptoe Washington, Bushrod Waslb-
ington, and Samuel Washington, I give one
of the swords, or couteaux, of which I may
die possessed; and they are to choose in the

APPENDIX.

729

order they are named. These swords are ac
companied with an injunction not to unsheathe
them for the purpose of shedding blood, ex
cept it be for self-defence, or in defence of their
country and its rights ; and in the latter case,
to keep them unsheathed, and prefer falling
with them in then hands to the relinquishment
thereof. And now, having gone through these specific
devises, with explanations for the more correct
understanding of the meaning and design of
them, I proceed to the distribution of the more
important parts of my estate in manner fol
lowing :
Fiest. — To my nephew, Bushrod Washing
ton, and his heirs (partly in consideration of an
intimation to his deceased father, while we were
bachelors, and he had kindly undertaken to
superintend my estate during my military ser
vices in the former war between Great Britain
and France, that, if I should fall therein, Mount
Vernon, then less extensive in domain than at
present, should become his property), I give
and bequeath all that part thereof, which is
comprehended within the following limits, viz. :
Beginning at the ford of Dogue Run, near my
Mill, and extending along the road, and bounded
thereby, as it now goes, and ever has gone since
my recollection of it, to the ford of Little Hunt
ing Creek, at the Gum Spring, until it comes to
a knoll opposite to an old road, which formerly
passed through the lower field of Muddy-Hole
Farm ; at which, on the north side of the said
road, are three red or Spanish oaks, marked as
a corner, and a stone placed ; thence by a line of
trees, to be. marked rectangular, to the back
line or outer boundary of the tract between
Thompson Mason and myself; thence with
that Une ' easterly (now double ditching, with a
post-and-rail fence thereon) to the run of Little
Hunting Creek ; thence with that run, which is
the boundary between the lands of the late
Humphrey Peake and me, to the tide-water
of the said creek; thence by that water to
Potomac River; thence with the river to the
mouth of Dogue Creek ; and thence with the
said Dogue Creek to the place of beginning at
the aforesaid ford'; containing upwards of four
thousand acres, be the same more or less, to

gether with the mansion-house, and all other
buildings and improvements thereon.
Second. — In consideration of the consan
guinity between them and my wife, being as
nearly related to her as to myself as on account
of the affection I had for, and the obligation I
was under to, their father when living, who
from his youth had attached himself to my per
son, and followed my fortunes through the
vicissitudes of the late Revolution, afterwards
devoting his time to the superintendence of my
private concerns for many years, whilst my pub
lic employments rendered it impracticable for
me to do it myself, thereby affording me essen
tial services, and always performing them in a
manner the most filial and respectful ; for these
reasons, I say, I give and bequeath to George
Fayette Washington and Lawrence Augustine
Washington, and their heirs, my estate east of
Little Hunting Creek, lying on the River Poto
mac, including the farm of three hundred and
sixty acres, leased to Tobias Lear, as noticed be
fore, and containing in the whole, by deed, two
thousand and twenty-seven acres, be it more or
less ; which said estate it is my will and desire
should be equitably and advantageously divided
between them, according to quantity, quality,
and other circumstances, when the youngest
•shall have arrived at the age of twenty-one
years, by three judicious and disinterested
men ; one to be chosen by each of the brothers,
and the third by these two. In the mean time,
if the termination of my wife's interest therein
should have ceased, the profits arising there
from are to be applied for their joint uses and
benefit. Thied. — And whereas it has always been my
intention, since my expectation of having issue
has ceased, to consider the grand-children of my
wife in the same light as I do my own relations,
and to act a friendly part by them ; more es
pecially by the two whom we have raised from
their earliest infancy, namely, Eleanor Parke
Custis and George Washington Parke Custis ;
and whereas the former of these hath lately in
termarried with Lawrence Lewis, a son of my
deceased sister, Betty Lewis, by which union
the inducement to provide for them both has
been increased ; wherefore I give and bequeath

730

APPENDIX.

to the said Lawrence Lewis, and Eleanor Parke
Lewis, his wife, and their heirs, the residue of
my Mount Vernon estate, not already devised
to my nephew, Bushrod Washington, compre
hended within the following description, viz. :
All the land north, of the road leading from the
ford of Dogue Run to the Gum Spring, as de
scribed in the devise of the other part of the
tract to Bushrod Washington, until it comes
to the stone and three red or Spanish oaks on
the knoll ; thence with the rectangular line to
the back line (between Mr. Mason and me) ;
thence with that line westerly along the new
double ditch to Dogue Run, by the tumbling
dam of my Mill ; thence with the said run to
the ford aforementioned. To which I add all
the land I possess west of the said Dogue Run
and Dogue Creek, bounded easterly and souther
ly thereby; together with the mill, distillery,
and all other houses and improvements on the
premises, making together about two thousand
acres, be it more or less.
Fotjeth. — Actuated by the principle already
mentioned, I give and bequeath to George Wash
ington Parke Custis, the grandson of my wife,
and my ward, and to his heirs, the tract I hold
on Four Mile Run, in the vicinity of Alexandria,
containing one thousand two hundred acres,
more or less, and my entire square, No. 21, in-
the city of Washington.
Fifth. — All the rest and residue of my estate
real and personal, not disposed of in manner
aforesaid, in whatsoever consisting, wheresoever
lying, and whensoever found (a schedule of
which, as far as is recollected, with a reasonable
estimate of its value, is hereunto annexed), I
desire may be sold by my executors, at such
times, in such manner, and on such credits (if an
equal, valid, and satisfactory distribution of the
specific property cannot be made without), as
in their judgment shall be most conducive to
the interest of the parties concerned ; and the
moneys arising therefrom to be divided into
twenty-three equal parts, and applied as follows,
viz. : To William Augustine Washington, Eliza
beth Spotswood, Jane Thornton, and the heirs
of Ann Ashton, sons and daughters of my de
ceased brother, Augustine Washington, I give
and bequeath four parts; that is, one part to

each of them. To Fielding Lewis, George
Lewis, Robert Lewis, Howell Lewis, and Betty
Carter, sons and daughters of my deceased
sister, Betty Lewis, I give and bequeath five
other parts ; one to each of them. To George
Steptoe Washington, Lawrence Augustine
Washington, Harriot Parks, and the heirs of
Thornton Washington, sons and daughters of
my deceased brother, Samuel Washington, I
give and bequeath other four parts; one to
each of them. To Corbin Washington, and the
heirs of Jane Washington, son and daughter of
my deceased brother, John Augustine Wash
ington, I give and bequeath two parts ; one to
each of them. To Samuel Washington, Frances
Ball, and Mildred Hammond, son and daughters
of my brother Charles Washington, I give and
bequeath three parts ; one part to each of them.
And to George Fayette Washington, Charles
Augustine Washington, and Maria Washing
ton, sons and daughter of my deceased nephew,
George Augustine Washington, I give one
other part ; that is, to each a third of that part.
To Elizabeth Parke Law, Martha Parke Peter,
and Eleanor Parke Lewis, I give and bequeath
three other parts ; that is, a part to each of them.
And to my nephews, Bushrod Washington and
Lavjrence Lewis, and to my ward, the grandson
of my wife, I give and bequeath one other part ;
that is, a third thereof to each of them. And,
if it should so happen, that any of the persons
whose names are here enumerated (unknown to
me) should now be dead, or should die before
me, that in either of these cases, the heirs of
such deceased person shall, notwithstanding,
derive all the benefits of the bequest, in the
same manner as if he or she was actually living
at the time. And, by way of advice, I recom
mend it to my executors not to be precipitate in
disposing of the landed property (herein directed
to be sold), if from temporary causes the sale
thereof should be dull ; experience having fully
evinced, that the price of land, especially above
the falls of the river and on the -western waters,
has been progressively rising, and cannot be
long checked in its increasing value. And I
particularly recommend it to such of the legatees
(under this clause of my will), as can make it
convenient, to take each a share of my stock in

APPENDIX.

731

the Potomac Company, in preference to the
amount of what it might sell for ; being thor
oughly convinced myself, that no uses to which
the money can be applied, will be so produc
tive as the tolls arising from this navigation
when in full operation (and thus, from the na
ture of things, it must be, ere long), and more
especially if that of the Shenandoah is added
thereto. The family vault at Mount Vernon requiring
repairs, and being improperly situated besides,
I desire that a new one of brick, and upon a
larger scale, may be built at the foot of what is
commonly called the Vineyard Enclosure, on the
ground which is marked out ; in which my re
mains, with those of my deceased relations (now
in the old vault), and such others of my family
as may choose to be entombed there, may be
deposited. And it is my express desire, that
my corpse may be interred in a private manner,
without parade or funeral oration.
Lastly, I constitute and appoint my dearly
beloved wife, Martha Washington, my nephews,
William Augustine Washington, Bushrod
Washington, George Steptoe Washington,
Samuel Washington, and Lawrence Lewis, and
my ward, George Washington Parke Custis
(when he shall have arrived at the age of twenty-
one years), executrix and executors of this my
will and testament ; in the construction of which,
it will be readily perceived that no professional
character has been consulted, or has had any
agency in the draft ; and that, although it has
occupied many of my leisure hours to digest,
and to throw it into its present form, it may,
notwithstanding, appear crude and incorrect;
but, having endeavored to be plain and explicit
in all the devises, even at the expense of pro
lixity, perhaps of tautology, I hope and trust
that no disputes will arise concerning them.
But if, contrary to expectation, the case should
be otherwise, from the want of legal expressions,
or the usual technical terms, or because too
much or too little has been said on any of the
devises to be consonant with law, my will and
direction expressly is, that all disputes (if un
happily any should arise) shall be decided by
three impartial and intelligent men, known for
their probity and good understanding ; two to

be chosen by the disputants, each having the
choice of one, and the third by those two;
which three men, thus chosen, shall, unfettered
by law or legal constructions, declare their sense
of the testator's intention ; and such decision
is, to all intents and purposes, to be as binding
on the parties as if it had been given in the
Supreme Court of the United States.
In witness of all and of each of the things
herein contained, I have set my hand and
seal, this ninth day of July, in the year
one thousand seven hundred and ninety,111
and of the Independence of the United
States the twenty-fourth.
GEORGE WASHINGTON.

SCHEDULE OF PROPERTY
Comprehended in the foregoing Will ; which is di
rected to ue sold, and some of it conditionally is
sold; with descriptive and explanatory Notes rel
ative thereto.

IN VIRGINIA. Price,
Acres. Dollars. Dollars
Loudoun County, Difficult Eun  300 6,666 a
Loudoun and Fauquier, Ashby's Bent  24S1 10 24,810 i
Ohattin's Eun  885 8 7,080)
Berkeley, South Fork of Bullskin  1 600
Head of Evans' M.  453
In Wormeley's Line  183
2236 20 44,720 e
Frederic, bought from Mercer  8T1 20 11,420 d
Hampshire, on Potomac River, above B  240 15 3,600 e
Gloucester, on North River...,  400 about 8,600/
Nansemonri, near Suffolk, one-third of 1119
acres  878 8 2,984 g
Great Dismal Swamp, my dividend thereof. . about 20,000 A
Ohio River, Round Bottom  587
Little Kenhawa  2314
Sixteen miles lower down  2448
Opposite Big Bent  4395
9744 10 97,440 i
Great Kenhawa— Near the month, west  10990
East side, above  7276
Mouth of Cole River  2000
Opposite thereto  2950
Burning Spring  125
 8075
 200,000 k

* It appears that the testator omitted the word "nine."

732

APPENDIX.

MARYLAND.
Price,
Acres. Dollars. Dollars.
Charles County  600 6 8,600 I
Montgomery County  519 12 6,228 m
PENNSYLVANIA.
GreatMeadows  234 6 1,404 n
NEW YORK.
Mohawk River  about 1000 6 6,000 o
NORTHWEST TERRITORY.
On Little Miami  839
Ditto  977
Ditto  1235 3051 5 15,255 p
KENTUCKY.
RoughCreek  3000
Ditto, adjoining  2000
6000 2 10,000 q
LOTS.
CITY OF WASHINGTON.
Two near the Capitol, Square 634, cost 963 dollars, and
with the buildings  15,000 r
Nos. 5, 12, 18, and 14, the last three water-lots on the
Eastern Branch, in Square 667, containing together
34,438 square feet, at 12 cents  4,132 «
ALEXANDRIA.
Corner of Pitt and Prince streets, half an acre, laid out
into building lots, three or four of which are let on
ground-rent, at three dollars per foot  4,000 t
WINCHESTER.
A lot in the town, of half an acre, and another on the
common, of about six acres, supposed  400 u
BATH, OR WARM SPRINGS.
Two well-situated and handsome buildings, to the amount
of£150  800 v
STOCK.
United States 6 per cent  3,746
Ditto, deferred  1.S7S
Ditto, 3 per cent  2,946  2,500  6,246 to
Potomac Company, 24 shares, cost each £100 sterling. . . 10,666 a
James River Company, 5 shares, each cost 100 dollars .. 500 y
Bank of Columbia, 170 shares, 40 dollars each  6,800 >
Bank of Alexandria  1,000) "
Besides 20 shares in the free-school. — 5.
STOCK LIVING.
One covering horse, 5 carriage horses, 4 riding horses, 6
brood mares, 20 working horses and mares, 2 covering
jacks and 8 young ones, 10 she-asses, 42 working mules,
15 younger ones, 329 head of horned cattle, 640 head .
of sheep, and a large stock of hogs, the precise num
ber unknown. fw~ My manager lias estimated this
live-stock at £7000; but I shall set it down, in order
to make a round sum, at  15,653
amount  $530,000

NOTES.

(a) This tract, for the size of it, is valuable, more for
its situation than the quality of its soil ; though that is
good for farming, with a considerable proportion of
ground that might very easily be improved into meadow.
It lies on the great road from the city of Washington,
Alexandria, and Georgetown, to Leesburgh and Win
chester, at Difficult Bridge, nineteen miles from Alex
andria, less from the city of Georgetown, and not more
than three from Matildaville, at the Great Falls of Poto
mac. There is a valuable seat on the premises, and the
whole is conditionally sold for the sum annexed in the
schedule. (6) What the selling prices of lands in the vicinity of
these two tracts are, I know not ; but compared with
those above the Kidge, and others below them, the value
annexed will appear moderate ; a less one would not ob
tain them from me.
(c) The surrounding land, not superior in soil, situa
tion, or properties of any sort, sells currently at from
twenty to thirty dollars an acre. The lowest price is
affixed to these.
(d) The observations made in the last note apply
equally to this tract ; being in the vicinity of them, and
of similar quality, although it lies in another county.
(e) This tract, though small, is extremely valuable.
It lies on Potomac Kiver, about twelve miles above the
town of Bath, or Warm Springs, and is in the shape of a
horseshoe ; the river running almost around it. Two
hundred acres of it are rich low grounds, with a great
abundance of the largest and finest walnut-trees ; which,
with the produce of the soil, might (by means of the
improved navigation of the Potomac) be brought to
a shipping port with more ease, and at a smaller ex
pense, than that which is transported thirty miles only
by land.
(/) This tract is of second-rate Gloucester low ground.
It has no improvements thereon, but lies on navigable
water, abounding in fish and oysters. It was received in
payment of a debt (carrying interest), and valued in the
year 1789, by an impartial gentleman, at £800. N. B.
It has lately been sold, and there is due thereon a bal
ance, equal to what is annexed in the schedule.
(g) These 373 acres are the third part of an undivided
purchase made by the deceased Fielding Lewis, Thomas
Walker, and myself, on full conviction that they would
become valuable. The land lies on the road from Suffolk
and Norfolk, touches (if I am not mistaken) some part
of the navigable water of Nansemond Biver. The rich
Dismal Swamp is capable of great improvement, and from
its situation must become extremely valuable.
(h) This is an undivided interest, which I hold in the
Great Dismal Swamp Company, containing about 4000
acres, with my part of the plantation and stock thereon,
belonging to the Company in the said swamp.
(i) These several tracts of land are of the first quality,
on the Ohio Biver, in the parts where they are situated ;

APPENDIX.

733

being almost, if not altogether, river bottoms. The
smallest of these tracts is actually sold at ten dollars an
acre, but the consideration therefor not received. The
rest are equally valuable, and sold as high ; especially
that which lies just below the Little Kenhawa, and is
opposite to a thick settlement on the west side of the
river. The four tracts have an aggregate breadth upon
the river of sixteen miles, and are bounded thereby for
that distance.
(k) These tracts are situated on the Great Kenhawa
Biver, and the first four are bounded thereby for more
than forty miles. It is acknowledged by all who have
seen them (and of the tract containing 10,990 acres,
which I have been on myself, I can assert) that there is
no richer or more valuable land in all that region. They
are conditionally sold for the sum mentioned in the
schedule, that is, 200,000 dollars ; and, if the terms of
that sale are not complied with, they will command con
siderable more. The tract, of which the 125 acres is a
moiety, was taken up by General Andrew Lewis and my
self, for and on account of a bituminous spring which it
contains, of so inflammable a nature as to burn as freely
as spirits, and is nearly as difficult to extinguish.
(I) I am but little acquainted with this land, although
I have once been on it. It was received (many years
since) in discharge of a debt to me from Daniel Jenifer
Adams, at the value annexed thereto, and must be
worth more. It is very level ; lies near the Biver Po
tomac. (m) This tract lies about thirty miles above the city of
Washington, not far from Kittoctan. It is good farming
land ; and, by those who are well acquainted with it, I
am informed that it would sell at twelve or fifteen dollars
per acre.
(n) This land is valuable on account of its local situa
tion, and other properties. It affords an exceeding good
stand on Braddock's Boad from Fort Cumberland to
Pittsburg, and, besides a fertile soil, possesses a large
quantity of natural meadow, fit for the scythe. It is
distinguished by the appellation of the Great Meadows,
where the first action with the French in 1754 was
fought. (o) This is the moiety of about 2000 acres, which re
mains unsold of 6071 acres on the Mohawk Biver (Mont
gomery county), in ¦-¦ patent granted to Daniel Cox, in
the township of Coxborough and Carolina, as will appear
by deed from Marinus Willett and wife to George Clin
ton, late governor of New York, and myself. The latter
sales have been at six dollars an acre, and what remains
unsold will fetch that or more.
(p) The quality of these lands, and their situations,
may be known by the surveyor's certificates, which are
filed along with the patents. They lie in the vicinity
of Cincinnati ; one tract near the mouth of the Little
Miami ; another seven, and the third ten miles up the
same. I have been informed, that they will command
more than they are estimated at.
(q) For the description of these tracts in detail, see
Vol. II.— 93

General Spotswood's letters, filed with the other papers
relating to them. Besides the general good quality of
the land, there is a valuable bank of iron ore thereon,
which, when the settlement becomes more populous (and
settlers are moving that way very fast), will be found very
valuable, as the Bough Creek, a branch of Green Biver,
affords ample water for furnaces and forges.
LOTS.
CITY 01? WASHINGTON.
{r) The two lots near the Capitol, in square 634, cost
me 963 dollars only. But in this price I was favored, on
condition that I should build two brick houses, three
stories high each. Without this reduction, the selling
prices of those lots would have cost me about 1350 dol
lars. These lots, with the buildings thereon, when com
pleted, will stand me in 15,000 dollars at least.
(s) Lots Nos. 5, 12, 13, and 14, on the Eastern Branch,
are advantageously situated on the water ; and, although
many lots, much less convenient, have sold a great deal
higher, I will rate these at 12 cents the square foot only.
ALEXANDRIA.
{t) For this lot, though unimproved, I have refused
3500 dollars. It has since been laid out into proper
sized lots for building on ; three or four of which are
let on ground-rent forever, at three dollars a foot on
the street, and this price is asked for both fronts on
Pitt and Prince streets. WINCHESTER.
(a) As neither the lot in the town or common have
any improvements on them, it is not easy to fix a price ;
but, as both are well situated, it is presumed that the
price annexed to them in the schedule is a reasonable
valuation. BATH.
(v) The lots in Bath (two adjoining) cost me, to the
best of my recollection, between fifty and sixty pounds,
twenty years ago ; and the buildings thereon, one hun
dred and fifty pounds more. Whether property there has
increased or decreased in its value, and in what condi
tion the houses are, I am ignorant; but suppose they
are not valued too high. STOCK.
(w) These are the sums which are actually funded;
and though no more in the aggregate than 7566 dollars,
stand me in at least ten thousand pounds, Virginia
money ; being the amount of bonded and other debts due
to me, and discharged during the war, when money had
depreciated in that rate, — gg™ and was so settled by pub
lic authority.
(x) The value annexed to these shares is what they
have actually cost me, and is the price affixed by law ;
and, although the present selling price is under par, my
advice to the legatees (for whose benefit they are intended,
especially those who can afford to lie out of the money),

734

APPENDIX.

is, that each should take and hold one ; there being a
moral certainty of a great and increasing profit arising
from them in the course of a few years.
(y) It is supposed that the shares in the James Biver
Company must be productive. But of this I can give
no decided opinion, for want of more accurate informa
tion. (z) These are the nominal prices of the shares in the
Banks of Alexandria and Columbia ; the selling prices
vary according to circumstances ; but, as the stocks

usually divide from eight to ten per cent, per annum,
they must be worth the former, at least, so long as the
banks are conceived to be secure, although from circum
stances they may sometimes be below it.
The value of the live-stock depends more upon the
quality than quantity of the different species of it, and
this again, upon the demand, and judgment or fancy of
purchasers. GEOEGE WASHINGTON.
Mot/ht Vbenos, July 9, 1799.

NOTE.
The publishers feel it a duty to state that the untimely death of Dr. Schroeder prevented
him from finishing his labora on this work. To carry out his views, and complete it in the
spirit in which it was begun, a scholar eminently fitted by his studies and literary abilities
was selected. How faithfully the task has been accomplished, the reader can judge.

INDEX.

Abercrombie, Col., engages Gen. Lacey, ii. 10 ; his cruelty,
ii. 26 ; at Yorktown, ii. 254.
Abercrombie, General, commander-in-chief, i. 107 ; re
pulsed at Ticonderoga, i. 109, 651 ; recalled, i. 110, n.
Abraham, Heights of, i. 145 ; Battle of, i. 146.
Ackland, Maj., i. 667-8, ii. 168.
Ackland, Lady Harriet, Sketch of, i. 667.
Acteon, The, in attack on Fort Moultrie, i. 436 ; blows
up, i. 437.
Active, The, i. 436.
Adams, Capt., i. 570.
Adams, Col., killed at Stillwater, i. 638.
Adams, John, sketch of, ii. 406, 701 ; his political writ
ings, ii. 702 ; defends the soldiers, ii. 703 ; in the Legis
lature of Mass., ib.; in Congress, ib.; early advocates
separation, i. 286 ; at the council of war, i. 405 ; urges
nomination of Washington, ii. 704 ; advocates Declara
tion of Independence, i. 443, ii. 704 ; one of the com
mittee to draft it, ii. 704 ; sent to Howe, i. 459 ; to
France, ii. 704 ; to Holland, ii. 705 ; signs articles of
peace, i. 468, ii. 706 ; Minister to London, ii. 706 ;
elected Vice-President, ii. 376, 406, 706 ; candidate for
the Presidency, ii. 636 ; elected, ii. 641, 706 ; inaugu
ration, ii. 645 ; retains Washington's cabinet, ib.; calls
an extra session, ii. 668 ; speech, ib.; founds navy, ib.;
sends envoys to France, ii. 669 ; subsequent services,
ii. 707 ; his remarks on Washington, i. 9 ; Jefferson's
opinion of him, ii. 704.
Adams, Samuel, proposes removal of British troops to
Castle William, i. 219 ; suggests Committee of Corre
spondence, i. 236 ; importance of, ib.; forbids landing
of tea, i. 248 ; sent to Congress, i. 293 ; proposes Duche1
as chaplain, i. 276 ; early advocates separation, i. 286 ;
sketch of, i. 290, 297 ; warned of danger by Warren,
i. 294 ; excepted in Gage's proclamation, ib.; in Con
way's cabal, i. 673 ; votes for, i. 641.
Adet, French Minister, Address to Washington, ii. 620 ;
suspends his functions, ii. 636.
iEsopus, i. 643, 5 ; see Kingston.
Africa, Americans obtain powder from, i. 368.
Agnew, Gen., at Danbury, i. 562 ; at the Brandywine,
i. 575 ; killed at Germantown, i. 593.
Aix la Chapelle, Treaty of, i. 49.
Albany, Convention at, i. 75.

Alexander, Major-gen. William ; see Lord Stirling.
Alexandria, i. 52 ; campaigns devised at, i. 87 ; Wash
ington vestryman at, i. 161 ; convention at, ii. 340 ;
Washington's reception at, ii. 379.
Algiers, American vessels seized by cruisers of, ii. 534 ;
preparations against, ii. 559 ; prisoners released hy, ii.
610 ; treaty with, ii. 626.
Algonquins, allies of French, i. 75.
Aliquippa, Queen, i. 59.
Alleghany Biver, i. 52.
Allen, Ethan, sketch of, ii. 191 ; his opposition to New
York, ib.; made colonel, i. 323, ii. 191 ; takes Ticon
deroga, ib.; his account of the capture, ii. 192 ; contest
with Arnold, i. 324, ii. 718 ; attempts St. Johns, ib.;
Montreal, i. 380, ii. 192.; prisoner, ib.; cruel treatment,
ii. 193 ; sent to England in irons, i. 552 ; English ef
forts to gain, ii. 184, n.\ exchanged, ii. 193.
Allen, Col., killed, ii. 66.
Allentown, ii. 15.
Alliance, The, ii. 52, 59, 62.
Always Creek, ii. 10.
Amboy, English confined to, i. 539, 568.
American Board of Commissioners, i. 194.
Ames, Fisher, sketch of, ii. 446 ; eulogy of Washington,
ii. 689.
Amherst, Gen., attacks and takes Louisburg, i. 107-8 ;
sails to Boston and marches to Fort William Henry,
i. 109 ; appointed commander-in-chief, i. 110 ; sketch
of, i. 135-6 ; proceeds against Ticonderoga, i. 141 ; takes
Fort Nevis, i. 136 ; Montreal, i. 136, 149 ; sends Mont
gomery to Carolina, i. 155 ; sends troops to forts, i. 165.
Anderson, Maj., ii. 194.
Andre, Maj. John, sketch of, ii. 123 ; selected to con
cert with Arnold, ii. 113 ; his arrest, ii. 114 ; Washing
ton's proceedings in his regard, ii. 115 ; decided to be a
spy, ii. 116, 123 ; appeals to Washington, 4b.; Clinton
tries to save him, ib.; his execution, ii. 117, 123 ; his
poem, the Cow Chase, ii. 123 ; Greene's course on his
trial, ii. 239.
Andrew Doria, The, ii. 55.
Annapolis, Convention of several States at, ii. 340.
Arbuthnot, Admiral, takes Charleston, ii. 52 ; succeeds
Collier, ii. 93 ; arrives at New York, ii. 95 ; takes Clin
ton to the South, ii. 98 ; reinforced by Graves, ii. 109 ;

736

LIFE AND TIMES OP WASHINGTON.

takes Clinton to Charleston, ii. 127, 130 ; engages Des-
touches, i. 705, ii. 224 ; succeeded by Graves, ii. 249.
Ariel, The, ii. 63.
Armand, Col., i. 605 ; sketch of, ii. 143, n.; his services,
i. 605, ii. 143, 145 ; opinion of Gates, ii. 144, «.; Wash
ington's certificate, ii. 143, n.
Armstrong, Capt., ii. 87.
Armstrong, Gen., i. 517 ; at the Schuylkill, i. 578 ; at Ger-
mantown, i. 592 ; sent to White Marsh, i. 671 ; writes
Newburgh addresses, ii. 280.
Armstrong, Maj., i. 537.
Arnold, Benedict, sketch of, ii. 717 ; joins the army, i.
318, ii. 718 ; takes Ticonderoga, i. 323, ii. 718 ; con
test with Allen, i. 324, ii. 718 ; attempt St. Johns, ib.;
sent with a detachment against Quebec, i. 378, ii. 718 ;
imprudence of, ii. 381 ; reaches Quebec, ib.; retires to
Pointe aux Trembles, i. 381, ii. 719 ; wounded in assault
on Quebec, i. 382, ii. 719 ; becomes commander on
Montgomery's death, ib.; continues siege, ib.; defeats
a body of Canadians, ib.; attempts to retake the
Cedars, i. 384 ; agrees to a cartel, ib.; retires from
Canada, i. 385 ; commands flotilla on Lake Champlain,
i. 494 ; defeat and escape, i. 495, ii. 719 ; made Brig
adier-general, ii. 719 ; joins Silliman at Beading, ii.
562 ; engages enemy, i. 563 ; commander of army on
Delaware, i. 565 ; sent to Schuyler, i. 628 ; relieves
Fort Schuyler, i. 634, ii. 719; at Stillwater, i. 637, ii. 719;
at Saratoga, i. 640, ii. 169, 719 ; his conduct at Phila
delphia, i. 519, ii. Ill, 719 ; court-martial on, ii. 112,
719 ; seeks and obtains command of West Point, ii.
113, 719 ; his treason ib.; defeated by Andre's capture,
ii. 114 ; escapes to New York, ii. 115 ; endeavors to
save Andre1, ii. 116 ; Washington's opinion of the
treason, ii. 442 ; his true character, i. 519, ii. 117 ; in
vades Virginia, i. 704, ii. 224 ; death, ii. 719.
Arnold, Mrs., originally Miss Shippen, ii. 112, n.; sent
to her husband by Washington, ii. 117 ; question as to
her guilt, ib.
Articles of Confederation adopted, i. 556.
Asgill, Capt., sentenced to be hanged in retaliation, ii.
272.
Ash, Gen., defeat of, ii. 166.
Asiento ships, i. 10.
Assumpinck Creek, i. 533-5.
Atalanta, The, ii. 59.
Atkinson, Theodore, i. 76, n.
Attucks, Crispus, killed at Boston, i. 220.
Auchmuty, Miss, ii. 12, n.
Au Glaize, Wayne at, ii. 580 ; battle of, ii. 581.
Augusta, taken by Campbell, ii. 50 ; retaken by Lee, i.
699, ii. 221.
Augusta, The, blown up, i. 597, 8.
Bache, Mrs., ii. 107, •».
Baird, Sir James, gains Howe's rear, ii. 49.
Baldwin, Abraham, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Balfour, Lt. Col., British commander at Charleston, ii.
153, 223, n.

Baltimore, action of, on news of battle of Lexington, i.
318 ; Congress retires to, i. 510.
Bank of North America, ii. 179.
Bank of the U. States proposed, ii. 459 ; debate, ii. 460.
Barbadoes submits to Stamp Act, i. 178.
Barlow, Joel, sketch of, ii. 617 ; chaplain in the army,
ib.; agent of the Scioto Land Co. ib.; consul at Algiers,
ib.; obtains liberation of American prisoners, ii. 610 ;
plenipotentiary to France, ii. 617 ; rank as a poet, ib.;
death, ib.
Barnes, Abraham, i. 77, n.
Barney, Com. Joshua, sketch of, ii. 296 ; mans a vessel,
ib.; at New Providence, ib.; his various services, ii.
297 ; taken prisoner, ii. 297-8 ; commands the Hyder
Aii, ii. 298 ; captures the General Monk, ii. 271, 298 ;
taken prisoner in 1792, ii. 300 ; receives a commission
in the French navy, ib.; services in war of 1812, his gal
lantry at Bladensburg, ii. 301 ; wounded and taken, ib.
Barras, Count de, commander of French fleet, ii. 244 ;
takes artillery to the Chesapeake, ii. 250.
Barbee, General, ii. 581.
Barre, Col., opposes North, i. 252.
Barren Hill, ii. 10.
Barton, Lt. Col., takes General Prescott, i. 570.
Barry, Com. John, sketch of, ii. 58 ; his successful cruises,
ii. 47, 59; Howe's offer to him, ii. 60 ; takes Laurens to
France, ii. 52.
Bassett, Maj., i. 429.
Bassett, Bichard, signs Constitution, ii. 363.
Battle of Great Meadow, i. 65 ; at Fort Necessity, i. 70 ;
of the Monongahela, i. 92 ; Louisburg, i. 108 ; Ticon
deroga, i. 109 ; Niagara, i. 141 ; Montmorency, i. 143 ;
Heights of Abraham, i. 146 ; of Sillery, i. 148 ; Detroit,
i. 165 ; Turtle Creek, ib.; Lexington, i. 293, 304 ;
Hampton, i. 321 ; Norfolk, ib.; Bunker's Hill, i. 350 ;
Quebec, i. 382 ; Cedars i. 383 ; Gloucester, i. 396 ; Fort
Moultrie, i. 436, ii. 165 ; Long Island, i. 452, 586 ;
Harlem Heights, i. 477 ; White Plains, i. 487 ; Fort
Washington, i. 492 ; Tenton, i. 531, 545 ; Princeton,
i. 535, 545 ; Somerset C. H., i. 539 ; Lawrence's Neck,
i. 541 ; Danbury, i. 562 ; Brandywine, i. 575, ii. 237 ;
Germantown, i. 592 ; Fort Mifflin, i. 595, 601 ; Fort
Mercer, i. 597 ; Skeensborough Falls, i. 625 ; Hubbard-
ton, ib.; Stillwater, i. 637, ii. 167 ; Bennington, ii. 631,
653 ; Saratoga, i. 639, ii. 168 ; Monmouth, ii. 16 ; New
port, ii. 41 ; Savannah, ii. 49 ; of Wyoming, ii. 65 ;
Penobscot, ii. 93 ; Paulus Hook, ii. 94 ; Chemung, ib.;
Savannah, ii. 96; of Springfield, N. J., ii. 105; of
Charleston, ii. 132 ; Waxhaws, ii. 136 ; of Camden, ii.
145 ; Garden's Hill, ii. 154 ; Cowpens, ii. 199-201, 232 ;
Cowan's Ford, ii. 203 ; Tarrant's Tavern, ii. 203 ; Guil
ford Court House, ii. 205-7, 234 ; Hobkirk's Hill, ii.
220 ; Eutaw Springs, ii. 222 ; of the Chesapeake, ii.
249 ; of Fort Griswold, ii. 250 ; Sea fight in Delaware
Bay, ii. 270 ; Bladensburg, ii. 301 ; of Miami, ii. 462,
479 ; of Au Glaize, ii. 581.
Baum, Col., sent to Bennington, i. 629 ; defeated and
killed, i. 631.

INDEX.

737

Baylor, Lt. Col., announces battle of Trenton, i. 532;
commands cavalry, i. 546 ; surprised, ii. 45.
Beaufort, defence of, ii. 165.
Beaujeu, commander at Fort Duquesne, defeats Braddock
at the Monongahela, i. 95.
Beaumarehais, i. 687.
Beaver Creek, i. 59, 227, 228.
Bedford, Gunning, jr., signs constitution, ii. 363.
Bedford (L. I.), i. 454.
Belvoir, i. 59.
Bemis Heights, i. 654.
Bennington, stores at, i. 629 ; battle of, i. 631 ; its ef
fects, i. 632.
Benyowsky, Count, i. 705.
Bergen Point, attack on, by Wayne, ii. 106.
Bernard, Sir Francis (Gov. of Mass.), dissolves Assembly,
i. 195 ; asks barracks for troops, i. 198 ; prorogues As
sembly, i. 200 ; is made a baronet, ib.; leaves the colo
ny, i. 214 ; account of, i. 223.
Biddle, Capt. Nicholas, sketch of, ii. 54 ; midshipman in
British navy, ib.; in Phipps' expedition, ib.; returns
home, ii. 55 ; appointed to command Camden galley,
ib.; his successful cruises, ii. 55-58 ; his death, ii. 47, 58.
Bienville, i. 127.
Billingsport, i. 591 ; taken by Col. Stirling, i. 592.
Bird, Col. , destroys stores at Peekskill, i. 561 ; killed at
German town, i. 593.
Birmingham Church, i. 576.
Black Islands, i. 53.
Black Prince, The, ii. 58.
Black Stocks, action at, ii. 162.
Blair Creek, Ash defeated at, ii. 166.
Blair, John, signs constitution, ii. 363; made judge, ii. 406.
Blair, John, acting Gov. of Va., i. 106.
Blanchard, Capt., i. 649.
Bland, Eichard (Va.), Delegate to the General Congress,
i. 260 ; opposes raising troops, i. 308.
Bloody Pond, i. 650.
Bloomfield, Major, i. 666.
Blount, William, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Board of Trade, order convention, i. 75.
Bond, Col., i. 399.
Bonhomme Bichard, The, captures the Serapis, ii. 60.
Bonner, Lt. Col., death of, ii. 20.
Bordentown, i. 511.
Boscawen, Admiral, sails to Newfoundland, i. 80 ; to
Halifax, i. 107 ; takes Louisburg, ib.
Boston, Washington at, i. 99 ; resists Stamp Act, i. 169 ;
mobs at, i. 177 ; funeral procession at, i. 179 ; case of
the sloop Liberty, i. 195 ; troops ordered to, i. 197 ;
convention at, ib.; rejoicings on Bernard's departure, i.
200 ; excitement in, i. 219 ; troops fire on people, i.
220 ; funeral of the killed, i. 222 ; ships at, i. 237 ; tea
arrives, i. 248 ; meetings of the people, i. 248-9 ; tea
destroyed, i. 250 ; port closed, i. 254 ; Gage lands and
draws in troops, i. 261 ; action of the country on the
closing of the port of Boston, i. 261 ; suffering in, i.
262, 301 ; troops sent from, i. 302 ; Earl Percy sent to

support them, i. 304 ; Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton
arrive with reinforcements, i. 349 ; English troops from,
assail Bunker's Hill, i. 351 ; siege of, i. 363 ; Washing
ton enters, i. 414 ; French fleet at, ii. 41.
Botetourt, Lord (Norborne Berkely, Baron de), Gov. of
Va. , i. 209 ; dissolves Assembly, i. 210 ; account of his
reception in Virginia, i. 212 ; letter to, i. 215 ; address
to House, i. 216 ; death of, i. 223, 212 ; statue to, i.
212, 223 ; inscription on, i. 213.
Bougainville de, detached to check English, i. 145 ; comes
up and retires, i. 147.
Bound Brook, action at, i. 562, ii. 157.
Bouquet, Col., commands during illness of Forbes, i. 112 ;
consults Washington as to road, i. 113 ; obstinately
opens new road, i. 114; sent to relieve Fort Pitt, i.
165 ; action with the Indians at Turtle Creek, i. 165.
Bourlamarque abandons Ticonderoga and Crown Point, i.
140.
Bowman, Capt. Joseph, ii. 79.
Braddock, Major-general Edward, serves in Scotland, i.
81 ; appointed commander-in-chief in America, ib.; sails
from Cork with troops, ib.; reaches Virginia, ib.; forms
plan of campaign against Fort Duquesne, i. 87 ; takes
Washington on his staff, ib.; his difficulty in obtaining
wagons, ib.; relieved by Franklin, i. 88 ; Washington's
estimate of, i. 89 ; Shirley's, ib. ; Franklin's, ib.; rejects
Indians, i. 89-95; his plan, i. 90; Washington's ad
vice, i. 90 ; defeated at Monongahela, i. 92 ; death, i. 93.
Bradford, William, sketch of, ii. 614 ; attorney-general,
ii. 558.
Bradstreet, Col. John, his birth and services, i. 110, n.;
captures Fort Frontenac, i. 110 ; made brigadier-gen
eral, i. Ill, and n.
Brandt at massacre of Wyoming, ii. 65, 77 ; defeated at
Chemung, ii. 94.
Brandywine, i. 517 ; battle of the, i. 575, ii. 237.
Brearly, David, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Breckenridge, Judge, ii. 33.
Breed's Hill, mistake as to, i. 349.
Breyman, Lt. Col., sent to support Baum, i. 631 ; killed
at Saratoga, i. 640, ii. 168.
Bristol, The, i. 436.
British Colonies, Memorial of Congress to people of, drawn
by B. H. Lee, i. 281, n.; its purport, i. 281.
Broad Eiver, action at, ii. 162.
Broadwater, Charles, i. 272.
Broglie, Count de, i. 572.
Bromfield, Maj., murders Ledyard, ii. 250.
Bronx, Washington's position on the, i. 485-487.
Brooklyn, how defended, i. 452.
Brooks, Christopher, Washington's godfather, i. 12.
Brooks, Brig. Gen. John, sketch of, i. 656 ; his services at
Lexington, Bunker's Hill, Whiteplains, ib.; storms Hes
sian camp at Saratoga, i. 640, 656, ii. 168 ; at Monmouth,
i. 657 ; true to Washington, ib.; his civil services, i. 657;
Parsons' opinion of him, ib.
Broom, Jacob, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Brougham's, Lord, character of Washington, i. 9.

738

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Brown, Col. , gets command of Lake George, i. 639, ii. 157.
Brown, Maj., fails to co-operate with Allen, i. 387, ii. 192.
Brown, Lt. Col., repulses Clark, ii. 153.
Brown, Brig. Gen., i. 658.
Brown, John and Joseph, take the Gaspee, i. 238.
Bruce, Maj., i. 376, n.
Brunswick, i. 511, 536 ; English return to, i. 568 ; state
of barracks at, ib., n.; Washington at, ii. 23.
Bruyn, Lt. Col., taken, i. 645.
Buchan, Earl of, correspondence with Washington, ii. 492.
Buffalo Creek, fort at, suggested, i. 84, 90.
Buford, Col., surprised by Tarleton, ii. 136.
Bullit, Capt., saves remnant of Grant's command, i. 120.
Bunker's Hill, battle of, i. 350.
Burgoyne, Lt. Gen. John, sketch of, i. 662 ; serves in
Spain, ib.; arrives, i. 349 ; correspondence with Lee, i.
362 ; pursues Sullivan, i. 385 ; on Lake Champlain, i.
569 ; succeeds Carleton, i. 621 ; encamps at Crown Point,
i. 622 ; excites Indians, ib.; invests Ticonderoga, i. 623 ;
proclamations, i. 626, 663 ; reaches Saratoga, i. 637 ;
fights the battle of Stillwater, i. 637, ii. 167 ; battle of
Saratoga, i. 639, ii. 168 ; describes his position, i. 642 ;
capitulates, i. 643 ; subsequent affairs of his army, i.
685-6 ; his treatment in England, i. 663, 685, •«.; his
literary character, i. 664 ; letter to Gates, i. 668.
Burke, Edmund, opposes North's coercion, i. 252.
Burr, Col. Aaron, sketch of, ii. 720 ; in Arnold's expedi
tion, ii. 21, 720 ; in Jersey, ib.; at the bar, ib.; attor
ney-general of New-York, ib.; votes for as Vice-Presi
dent, ii. 641 ; Vice-President, ii. 721 ; kills Hamilton,
ib.; his project against Louisiana, ib.; trial, ib.
Burton, Col., wounded at the Monongahela, i. 93.
Butler, Col. John, destroys Wyoming, ii. 65, 77 ; ravages
Cherry Valley, ii. 66 ; his barbarity, ii. 78 ; returns to
Niagara, ii. 78 ; defeated at Chemung, ii. 94.
Butler, Pierce, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Butler, Gen. Bichard, surprises Donop, ii. 45 ; with Clark,
ii. 80 ; at Guilford Court House, ii. 205 ; killed at St.
Clair's defeat, ii. 480.
Butler, Coh Zebulon, sketch of, ii. 75 ; serves in war
against France and Spain, ib.; enters Continental army,
ib.; commands at Wyoming, ii. 65, 76 ; is defeated by
English and Indians, ib.; retakes Wyoming, ii. 78 ; re
called to army, ib.; death, ii. 79.
Butterworth, John, engages English at Lexington, i. 304.
Buysson, du, Chev., Lt. Col., i. 701, ii. 146.
Byng, Admiral, sails, i. 80.
Byron, Admiral, sent to relieve Howe, ii. 39, 43; takes
command, ii. 46 ; pursues D'Estaing, ib.
Byrd, Col., i. Ill, 115.
Cacapehon, The Great, i. 37.
Cadwallader, Gen. John, sketch of, i. 544 ; at Fort Wash
ington, i. 491 ; commands Pennsylvania militia, i. 529 ;
attempts Mount Holly, i. 532 ; crosses Delaware, i.
533 ; pursues enemy, i. 545 ; at Princeton, i. 545 ;
fights Conway, i. 545 ; in favor of attacking Cl'nton, ii.
15 ; harasses enemy's rear, ii. 16.

Cahokia taken, ii. 79.
Caldwell, Eev. Mr., patriotism of, ii. 104.
Caldwell, Mrs., murder of, ii. 103.
Cambridge, meeting at, i. 265 ; head-quarters at, i. 318 ;
Washington at, i. 361 ; description of camp at, i. 362.
Camden, battle of, i. 498, 701, ii. 52, 145.
Camden, Lord, denies right to tax colonies, i. 181.
Campbell, Capt., killed at Au Glaize, ii. 582.
Campbell, Lt.Col. A., his treatment, i. 552 ; killed, i. 645.
Campbell, Lt. Col., sent from New York, ii. 45, 48 ; lands
near Savannah, ib.; defeats Howe, and disperses his
army, ii. 49 ; takes Augusta, ii. 50.
Campbell, Col., pursues Ferguson, ii. 154; defeats him,
ii. 155 ; at Ninety-Six, ii. 221 ; killed at Eutaw, ii. 222.
Canada, state of, at its capture, i. 149 ; North's conces
sions to, i. 253 ; address to inhabitants of, i. 282, 330 ;
provoked by American misconduct, i. 383 ; invasion of,
i. 377 ; new invasion projected, ii. 70 ; abandoned, ii. 74.
Cape Breton, i. 49 ; taken, i. 108.
Carleton, The, i. 495.
Carleton, Sir Guy (Lord Dorchester), sketch of, i. 668 ;
serves under Amherst and Wolfe, ib.; at Havana, ib.;
attempts to relieve Chamblee, i. 379 ; defeated, but
escapes, i. 380 ; repulses Montgomery and Arnold at
Quebec, i. 381 ; his humanity, i. 382, 384, 555 ; builds
flotilla on Lake Champlain, i. 493, 494 ; takes Crown
Point, i. 495 ; retires to- Canada, i. 496 ; made Gover
nor-general of Canada, i. 669 ; succeeds Sir Henry Clin
ton, ii. 274 ; commissioner to propose peace, ib.; letter
to Washington, ii. 275 ; announces peace, ii. 289 ;
evacuates New York, ii. 290, 291 ; project against New
Orleans, ii. 395.
Carlisle, Lord, i. 518, 295, 689.
Carmichael, i. 572.
Carr, Dabney, i. 240.
Carpenter's Hall, i. 273.
Carrington, Lt. Col., ii. 19.
Carrol, Charles, member of Continental Congress, i. 679 ;
at Valley Forge, i. 679.
Carroll, Daniel, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Carter, Landon, letter to Washington, i. 102.
Castle William, i. 196, 198, 219 ; ordered to be delivered
up to King's troops, i. 237.
Castleton, i. 625.
Caswell, Gen., at Camden, ii. 142 ; ordered to raise mili
tia, ii. 194.
Cathcart, Lord, ii. 12, n.
Catura Biver, i. 85.
Cavendish, Lord J., i. 560.
Cayugas, i. 75.
Cazneau, Capt., i. 429.
Cedars taken by Forster, i. 384.
Chad's Ford, i. 575.
Chambers, John, i. 76.
Chandler, John, i. 76.
Charleston, troops sent to, ii. 98 ; menaced, ii. 133, 166 ;
taken, ii. 52, 133, 159, 166 ; Washington at, ii. 470 ;
Genet at, ii. 523 .

INDEX.

739

Charlestown, powder seized at, i. 265 ; burnt, i. 351.
Chastellux, Marquis de, letter of Washington, ii. 317.
Chatham, Earl of, his declaratory bill, i. 191 ; op
poses North, 1. 252 ; speech on the Continental Con
gress, i. 283 ; amendment offered by, i. 647 ; speech
against acknowledging independence, i. 661 ; sketch of,
i. 658.
Chatterton's Hill, i. 516.
Chemung, battle of, ii. 94.
Cherokees attack English, i. 154 ; Col. Montgomery sent
against, i. 155 ; excited by Stuart, i. 437 ; attack Caro
lina, i. 438 ; their lands ravaged, ib.
Cherry Valley ravaged by Indians, ii. 66.
Chester, i. 576, 578, 602.
Chestnut Hill, i. 517, 607, ii. 11.
Chestnut Neck, ii. 45.
Chickasaws defeat French, i. 127.
Chippewas, peace with, ii. 609 ; cede Bois Blanc Island,
ii. 610.
Choptank, i. 18.
Christian, William, i. 312.
Chrystler's Fields, action at, i. 658.
Church, Dr. Benj., defection of, i. 397.
Cincinnati, The, account of, ii. 337 ; suggested by Knox,
ib.; opposed by Burk, ii. 338.
Clarke, Col., attacks Augusta, ii. 153.
Clarke, Gen. Geo. E. C, sketch of, ii. 79 ; explores Ken
tucky, ib.; proposes reduction of British posts, ib.; takes
Kaskaskia and Vincennes, ii. 67, 79 ; his share in set
tling Kentucky, ii. 80 ; anecdote of, ib.
Clarke, Maj., of Barbadoes, i. 41.
Clergy, their exertions for independence, i. 348.
Clermont, ii. 142 ; taken, ii. 196.
Cleveland, Col., pursues Ferguson, ii. 154 ; defeats him,
ii. 155 ; his address to his men, ib.
Clinton, Geo., sketch of, i. 614 ; with Amherst, ib.; mem
ber of Congress, i. 615 ; commands militia, i. 446 ; de
fends Fort Montgomery, i. 615, 645 ; Governor of New
York, i. 616 ; Washington's letter to, ii. 68 ; makes a
tour of New York with Washington, ii. 318 ; candidate
for Vice-President, ii. 513 ; elected, ii. 616.
Clinton, Sir Henry, sketch of, i. 707 ; arrives, i. 349 ;
leads troops to support Howe at Bunker's Hill, i. 352,
707 ; joins Cornwallis, i. 435 ; repulsed at Fort Moultrie,
i. 436 ; lands on Long Island, i. 453 ; crosses to New
York, i. 474 ; commands right at Whiteplains, i. 487 ;
takes Newport, i. 504 ; attacks Fort Montgomery, i.
615, 639 ; endeavors to aid Burgoyne, ib.; burns King
ston, i. 616, 618 ; estimate of, i. 707 ; succeeds Howe,
ii. 13 ; resolves to abandon Philadelphia, ii. 14 ; leaves
Philadelphia, ii. 15 ; why, ii. 35 ; marches towards
Sandy Hook, ii. 16 ; battle of Monmouth, ib.; account
of loss, ii. 21 ; at Sandy Hook, ii. 23 ; quarters his
army, ib.; marches to relieve Pigot, ii. 41 ; projects at
tack on New London, ii. 43 ; sends Grey to Buzzard's
Bay, ii. 44 ; disposition of army, ii. 44 ; moves up the
Hudson to forage, ib.; sends detachments to West Indies
and the South, ii. 47, 48 ; takes Stony Point and Fort

Fayette, ii. 87 ; loses Stony Point, ii. 90 ; encamps at
¦ Harlem, ii. 93 ; evacuates Ehode Island, ii. 95 ; sends
Collier to Chesapeake Bay, ii. 96 ; sails to Savannah, ii.
98 ; returns to New York, ii. 104 ; advances into New
Jersey, ii. 105 ; destroys Springfield and retreats, ib.;
sails to Huntington Bay, ii. 109 ; returns to protect
New York, ib.; sails to Savannah, ii. 127 ; besieges
Charleston, ii. 129 ; takes it, ii. 134, 158 ; sends Corn
wallis to N. Carolina, ii. 136 ; issues a proclamation, ii.
137 ; returns to New York, ii. 138 ; attempts to gain
mutineers, ii. 177, 179 ; sends Arnold and Phillips to
Virginia, ii. 224 ; censures Cornwallis, ii. 225 ; tenders
resignation, ib.; his orders to Cornwallis, ii. 225, 247 ;
sends Arnold to New London, ii. 250 ; sails to relieve
Cornwallis, ii. 259 ; superseded by Carleton, ii. 274.
Clinton, Gen. James, sketch of, i. 617 ; his papers, i. 577 ;
at Fort Frontenac, i. 617; defends Fort Clinton, i. 645; co
operates with Sullivan, i. 618, ii. 94 ; at Yorktown„i. 619.
Clymer, George, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Cobble Hill fortified, i. 399.
Cochran, Maj., ii. 86.
Colburn, Col., i. 638.
Colden, Lt. Gov. O, burnt in effigy, i. 178.
Collier, Sir George, convoys Clinton up North Biver, ii.
87 ; plans attack on New London, ii. 89 ; sails from
New York, ii. 92 ; returns, ii. 93 ; resigns, ib.; ravages
Chesapeake Bay, ii. 96.
Collins, Capt., ii. 45.
Combahee, ii. 51.
Commissioners convene at Albany, i. 75 ; their proceed
ings, i. 76 ; names of delegates, ib. n.
Commissioners of Customs appointed, i. 194 ; seize sloop
Liberty, i. 196 ; flee to the Eomney, and ask troops, ib.
Commissioners under conciliatory bills, i. 518, 689 ; their
return to England, i. 693.
Committees of correspondence, i. 237 ; their importance,
ib., n.
Common Sense, i. 433.
Concord, Provincial Congress at, i. 299, 302 ; arms at, ib.;
Gage sends Smith to seize arms at, i. 303 ; stores de
stroyed, i. 304 ; Provincial Congress adjourned from it,
i. 317.
Concord meeting-house, i. 578.
Congress at New York in 1765, pass declaration of rights,
and petition King, Lords, and Commons, i. 179.
Congress, Continental, Washington a delegate to, i. 273 ;
opening of, ib.; question of prayers, i. 276 ; appoint
committees, i. 275 ; pass declaration of rights, i. 277 ;
pass non-importation and non-exportation resolves, i.
279 ; memorial to British colonies, i. 281 ; address to
French inhabitants of Canada, i. 282 ; dissolves, ib.;
(1775) meeting of, i. 328 ; its advice to New York, ib.;
resolutions, ib; does not advise Massachusetts to take up
and exercise powers of civil government, i. 330 ; ad
dresses Canadians, Indians, and English, i. 330, 331 ;
Jamaica and Ireland, i. 331 ; appoints Geo. Washington
commander-in-chief, i. 336 ; raises troops, i. 337 ; issues
bills of credit, ib.; appoints general officers, ib.; urges

740

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

attack on Boston, i. 394, &c ; votes a medal to Wash
ington, i. 416 ; their letter to Washington, ib.; his reply,
i. 417 ; his reports to, i. 426 ; orders reprisals, i. 433 ;
prepares for asserting independence, i. 434; plan of army,
i. 440 ; declines to confer with the Howes, but sends a
committee, i. 459 ; retires to Baltimore, i. 510 ; adopts
Articles of Confederation, i. 556 ; orders monuments to
Warren and Mercer, i. 561 ; retires to Lancaster and
Yorktown, i. 582 ; thanks Washington for attack on
Germantown, i. 594 ; vote of thanks to Gates, i. 646 ;
action on North's bills, i. 688 ; action on battle of Mon
mouth, ii. 23 ; on D'Estaing's arrival, ii. 36 ; honor
paid to Lafayette, ii. 47 ; rewards Capt. Talbot, ib.; con
dition of in 1778, ii. 69 ; projects a new invasion of
Canada, ii. 70 ; Washington's letter to, ii. 72 ; confers
with Washington, ii. 82 ; report of committee, ii. 80 ;
thanks Col. Van Schaick, ii. 86 ; votes medal to Lee, ii.
94 ; dilatory action of, ii. 100, 107 ; Washington's letter
to, ib.; orders inquiry into Lincoln's conduct, ii. 135 ;
Washington's letter to, ib.; votes medals to Morgan,
Howard, and Washington, ii. 201, n.; action on surren
der of Cornwallis, ii. 258.
Congress (1st), opens ii. 384 ; action, ii. 408, 421 ; debate
on the finances, ii. 423 ; third session, ii. 454 ; termina
tion of, ii. 463 ; (2nd), Washington's message to, ii. 475 ;
debate on apportionment, ii. 476 ; bill vetoed, ii. 477 ;
message to, ii. 493 ; Fitzsimmons' motion, ii. 495 ; Giles',
ii. 496 ; other business, ii. 497 ; speech on reopening, ii.
551 ; proceedings, ii. 555 ; action on Madison's resolu
tions, ii. 559 ; on the British orders in council, ii. 560 ;
neutrality act passed, ii. 565 ; Washington's speech, ii.
592 ; proceedings, ii. 595 ; Jay's treaty, ii. 598 ; (4th),
speech at opening, ii. 618 ; calls for documents on Jay's
treaty, ii. 622 ; debate, ii. 622, 623 ; Washington's reply,
ii. 624 ; further action, ii. 626 ; debate on treaty, ii. 627;
Washington' s last speech to, ii. 638 ; reply, ii. 640 ; ac
tion on Washington's death, ii. 685.
Connecticut sends delegates to Albany, i. 75 ; raises a bat
talion in Pontiac's war, i. 167 ; sends delegates to Gen
eral Congress, i. 178 ; sends troops to Boston, i. 318 ;
governor of solicits a detachment from Washington, i.
371 ; militia of abandon lines, i. 401.
Connecticut Farms destroyed by English, ii. 103.
Connecticut regiments mutiny, ii. 103.
Connolly, Dr., i. 232 ; joins the English, i. 322 ; arrest of, ib.
Constellation, the, victory of, ii. 677.
Constitution of the United States, ii. 357.
Continental Village burnt, i. 645.
Contrecoeur drives Ohio Company from its posts, i. 62 ;
commander of Fort Duquesne, ii. 95.
Convention to form the constitution proposed, ii. 344 ;
meets, ii. 349 ; Washington made President, ib.; promi
nent members, ii. 350.
Convention of Va. and Md. at Alexandria, ii. 340 ; of sev
eral States at Annapolis, ib.
Conway, Gen. Thomas, at Brandywine, i. 576 ; his cabal,
i. 673, ii. 168 ; duel with Cadwalader, i. 684, n., i. 545 ;
returns to France, i. 684.

Coon Island, ii. 79.
Coosawhatchie, ii. 51.
Copp's Hill, i. 350, 351.
Cornwallis, Lord, arrives, i. 435 ; attacks Charleston, i.
436 ; at Brooklyn, i. 453 ; defeats Stirling, i. 456 ; at
Fort Washington, i. 491 ; attempt on Fort Lee, i. 493 ;
pursues Washington, i. 506 ; attempts to cross Dela
ware, i. 508 ; abandons voyage to Europe, i. 533 ; ad
vances to Trenton, ib.; attempt to surprise Lincoln, i.
561 ; at Somerset C. H., i. 566 ; at Brandywine, i. 576 ;
his loss, il 577 ; in Philadelphia, i. 592 ; at Chester, i.
602 ; routes Gen. Potter, i. 609 ; advances up Hudson,
ii. 44 ; sends Grey to surprise Baylor, ii. 45 ; sails to
Savannah, ii. 98 ; at Charleston, ii. 132 ; sends Tarleton
after Col. White, ii. 133 ; sent towards North Carolina,
ii. 136 ; left in command at Charleston, ii. 138 ; puts
Lord Bawdon on the frontier, ii. 139 ; his harshness, ib.;
advances to Camden, ii. 144 ; defeats Gates, ib.; sends
Tarleton in pursuit of Sumter, ii. 147 ; his cruel orders,
ii. 152 ; returns to Charleston, ii. 156 ; reinforced by
Leslie, ii. 198 ; sends Tarleton against Morgan, ib.; pur
sues him in person, ii. 201 ; pursues Greene, ii. 203 ;
repairs to Hillsborough, ii. 204 ; defeated by Greene at
Guilford Court House, ii. 205-207 ; driven into Virginia,
ii. 223 ; joins Phillips, ii. 224 ; fortifies Yorktown, ii.
225 ; embarks and disembarks, ii. 247 ; besieged, ii.
252 ; attempts to escape, ii. 255 ; proposes terms, ib.;
surrenders, ii. 256 ; feigns sickness, ii. 257.
Coryell's Ferry, i. 508, 529, ii. 15.
Cotineau, Capt., ii. 62.
Countess of Scarborough, the, ii. 62.
Cowan's Fort, action at, ii. 203.
Cowpens, battle of, i. 547, ii. 199-201.
Craigie mansion, Washington's head-quarters at Cam
bridge, i. 361.
Craik, Dr., at Braddock's defeat, i. 94, 96 ; neighbor of
Washington, i. 161 ; visits the West with Washington,
i. 225 ; attends him in his last illness, ii. 683.
Crawford, Capt., i. 225.
Creeks, i. 437 ; make war on Georgia, ii. 395 ; decline
peace, ii. 414 ; peace made, ii. 438.
Cresap, Col., i. 36.
Croghan, George, joins Braddock, i. 89 ; deputy of Sir
Wm. Johnson at Fort Pitt, i. 225.
Crooked Billet, action at, ii. 10, 26.
Crosswick, ii. 15.
Crown Point, i. 141, 493 ; taken by Arnold, i. 323 ; Arnold
at, i. 385 ; abandoned, i. 495.
Cruger, Col., at Ninety-Six, ii. 154 ; marches to relieve
Brown, ib.; defends Ninety-Six, ii. 221.
Cumberland, Duke of, i. 80, 659.
Cunningham, Maj., at Cowpens, ii. 199, 200.
Currin, Barnaby, i. 52.
Curtis, Samuel, i. 462.
Cushing, William, made Judge of the Supreme Court, ii.
406.
Custis, Daniel Parke, first husband of Martha Washing
ton, i. 123, ii. 698 ; death, ii. 699.

INDEX.

741

Custis, G. W. P., places stone at Washington's birth-place,
i. 12.
Custis, John P., i. 400 ; death of, ii. 264.
Custis, Mrs., see Washington, Martha.
Cuyler, Yost, i. 634.
Dagworthy, Capt., claims precedency of Col. Washington,
i. 99 ; in expedition against Fort Duquesne, i. 111.
Dale, Lieut., ii. 62.
Dalrymple, Col., i. 196 ; leads his two regiments into Bos
ton, i. 199 ; prepares to attack people, i. 219, 221, 292 ;
at Castle William, i. 237.
Dalyell, Capt., sent to relieve Detroit, i. 165 ; surprised
and killed, ib.
Dana, Francis, member of Cong, at Valley Forge, i. 679.
Danbury destroyed by Tryon, i. 562 ; Gates sent to, ii. 44.
Dandridge, Francis, i. 189.
Dandridge, Martha, see Washington, Martha.
Danvers, i. 302.
Darby, i. 579.
Darke, Lt. Col., at St. Clair's defeat, ii. 479-481.
Dartmouth, Lord, secretary for the colonies, i. 238 ; at
tempts to prevent meeting of Congress, i. 327 ; his an
swer to petition to King, i. 333 ; correspondence with
Eeed, i. 513.
Davidson, John, Indian interpreter, i. 52.
Davidson, Gen. William, sketch of, ii. 213 ; killed at
Cowan's Ford, ii. 203, 213.
Davie, Gen. William E., sketch of, ii. 208 ; wounded at
Stono, ib.; repulses Tarleton, ii. 153, 209 ; at Guil
ford C. H., ii. 206 ; made commissary-general, ii. 209 ;
envoy to France, ii. 210, 677 ; Gov. of North Carolina,
ii. 210 ; Brigadier-general, ib.
Davies, Eev. S., prophetic allusion to Washington, i. 95.
Dayton, Jonathan, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Deane, Silas, Lafayette introduced to, i. 572 ; solicits
French alliance, i. 686.
Deane, Simeon, brings over treaty with France, i. 689.
De Berdt, i. 513, 515, 518.
Deborre, Gen., at the Brandywine, i. 576.
De Bose, Baron, killed, ii. 46.
De Castries, Mareschal, ii. 52.
De Choisd, Gen., ii. 252.
De Choisi, Maj., sent by D'Estaing to Washington, ii. 36.
Declaration of Independence passed, i. 444 ; list of signers,
ii. 735.
De Grasse, Count, i. 705, ii. 53 ; engages Hood, ii. 247 ;
arrives off the Chesapeake, ii. 248 ; lands troops, ii.
249 ; engages Graves, ti.; Washington and Eocham-
beau visit his ship, ii. 251 ; sails to West Indies, ii. 260 ;
defeated and taken by Bodney, ii. 277.
De Guichen, Count, letter of Washington, ii. 149.
De Heister, Gen., commands English centre, i. 453 ; his
rapacity, ii. 538 ; at Middlebush, ii. 566.
De Kalb, Baron, sketch of, i. 700 ; introduced to Lafay
ette, i. 572 ; lands at Georgetown, i. 573 ; at Fort Mer
cer, i. 602 ; ordered to Canada, i. 683 ; sent to Carolina,
ii. 141 ; superseded by Gates, ii. 142 ; his advice to the
Vor.. IT. -<H

latter, ib.; his gallantry and death, at Camden, i. 701,
ii. 145, 146 ; Washington visits grave of, ii. 472.
De la Borderie, Lieut., killed, ii. 46.
Delancey, James, i. 76 ; Gov. of N. Y. at Alexandria, i. 87.
Delancey, Brig. Gen. Oliver, i. 483.
Delaplace, Capt., taken at Ticonderoga, i. 323.
Delaware sends delegates to General Congress, i. 179 ;
adopts articles of association, i. 210 ; sends delegates to
Annapolis, i. 344.
Delaware, the, loss of, i. 591.
Delaware, British destroy vessels on, ii. 10.
Delawares, i. 54 ; revolt of, i. 165 ; peace with, ii. 609.
Demere, Capt., surrenders to Cherokees, i. 155.
Dennison, Col., defeated at Wyoming, ii. 65, 76.
Derryfield, i. 649.
D'Estaing, Count, sails from Toulon, ii. 36; arrives off
Virginia, ii. 35, i. 707 ; sails for New York, ii. 36 ; off
Newport, ii. 37 ; concerts plan with Sullivan, ii. 38 ;
sails off to engage English fleet, ii. 39 ; shattered in a
storm, ii. 40 ; refuses to co-operate with Sullivan, ib.;
goes to Boston, ii. 41 ; takes St. Vincent and Granada,
ii. 95 ; defeats British fleet, ib.; repulsed at Savannah,
ii. 96:
Destouches, Admiral, i. 705 ; engages Arbuthnot, ii. 224.
De Ternay, Chev., fleet under, arrives, ii. 109 ; meets
Washington, ii. 110.
Detroit, i. 141 ; attacked by Indians, i. 165 ; Dalyell sent
to relieve, ib.; plan to attack Virginia from, i. 322 ; Mc
intosh sent against, ii. 64 ; ceded, ii. 609.
Dickinson, John, writes " Letters from a farmer in Penn
sylvania," i. 195; sketch of, 202, 204 ; member of first
Congress, i. 202 ; author of Declaration of 1775, and of
second petition to King, i. 202, 276 ; opposes separation,
i. 203 ; and Declaration of Independence, i. 443 ; Presi
dent of Pennsylvania and of Delaware, i. 203 ; signs
constitution, ii. 363 ; death of, i. 204.
Dickinson, Maj., of Va., ii. 20.
Dickinson, Gen. Philemon, sketch of, ii. 27 ; letter of
Washington to, ib.; defeats English at Somerset Court
House, i. 539, ii. 28 ; baffles Cornwallis, ib.; surprises
Skinner, ii. 29 ; at Monmouth, ib.; his operations in
Jersey, ii. 14, 16 ; Washington's esteem for, ii. 27, 28 ;
commissioner to select site for federal city, ii. 29.
Digby, Admiral, arrival of, ii. 251 ; commissioner to treat
of peace, ii. 274 ; letter to Washington, ii. 275.
Dillon, Count, at Savannah, ii. 170.
Dinwiddie, Eobert (Lt. Gov.), i. 49 ; sends Washington to
the Ohio, i. 50 ; his instructions, i. 51 ; unable to settle
precedency, i. 69, 99 ; projects new expedition against
Fort Duquesne, i. 72 ; reorganizes colonial troops, i. 73 ;
at Alexandria, i. 87 ; Washington appeals to, i. 100.
Dismal Swamp improvement, Washington's interest in,
i. 163.
Dobbs (Gov. of N. C), at Alexandria, i. 87.
Dobbs Ferry, ii. 246.
Donop, Capt., surprised by Lee, ii. 45.
Donop, Col., on Long Island, i. 454 ; retreats to Princeton,
i. 533 ; crosses Delaware, ii. 29 ; killed at Eed Bank, i. 597.

742

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Doodletown, action at, i. 616.
Dorchester Heights occupied, i. 408, 409.
Drake, The, ii. 60.
Drouillon, Maj., i. 66.
Drucour, Chev., commander at Louisburg, i. 107 ; sur
renders, i. 108.
Duche', Bev. Mr., chaplain to the Continental Congress,
i. 276 ; account of, i. 289.
Dudingston, Lieut., i. 237.
Dudley, John, i. 462.
Dunbar, Col., sails from Cork, i. 81 ; left by Braddock to
bring up rear, i. 91 ; retreats to Philadelphia, i. 96.
Dundas, Col., ii. 256.
Dunmore, Lord (John Murray, Earl of), Gov. of Va., i.
212 ; dissolves Assembly, i. 255, 340, 341 ; seizes pow
der, i. 315, 319 ; Henry compels payment for it, i. 315,
341 ; begins war, i. 320 ; repulsed at Hampton, i. 321 ;
Logan's speech to, ii. 505.
Duplaine, French consul at Boston, ii. 534 ; his miscon
duct, ib.
Duplessis, Capt. Chev. Mauduit, i. 597, 605.
Du Portail, Gen., at siege of Yorktown, ii. 252.
Dyer's Island, ii. 38.
East India Company their scheme, i. 245.
Eastman, i. 647.
Easton, Col., posted at Sorel, i. 380 ; compels English to
capitulate, ib.
Easton, James, i. 323.
Eaton, Gen., at Guilford C. H., ii. 205.
Eden, Com., i. 295, 518, 688.
Edmondson, Capt., i. 226.
Edwards, Capt., ii. 59.
Elizabethtown, i. 511 ; Knyphausen at, ii. 103.
Elkton, Howe lands at, i. 575.
Ellsworth, Oliver, sketch of, ii. 540 ; delegate to Consti
tutional Convention, ib.; made Chief Justice of the
Supreme Court of the U. S., ii. 541 ; commissioner to
France, ii. 541, 677 ; administers oath to Adams, ii. 645.
Ellis introduces mutiny act, i. 194.
Emerson, Eev. Wm., i. 361.
England, excitement in, caused by French encroachments,
i. 80 ; restricts trade of the colonies, i. 169 ; attempts
to tax the colonies, i. 171 ; colonists refuse to import
goods from, i. 180 ; difficulty of merchants in, ib.; action
of in regard to Stamp Act, i. 181 ; passes Townshend's
tea bill, i. 193 ; address of Congress to people of, i. 280,
331 ; King's speech in 1776, i. 432 ; prohibits commerce
with the colonies, i. 433 ; employs Hessians, ib.; mal
treatment of prisoners, i. 551 ; prepares for war with
France, i. 559 ; new plans in consequence, ii. 35 ; peace
with, ii. 279, 307 ; at war with France, ii. 519 ; seizes
American seamen, ii. 533 ; issues her orders in council,
ii. 559 ; encroachments in the West, ii. 580.
Englishtown, ii. 19.
Enos, Col., deserts Arnold, i. 380 ; tried, i. 381, n.
Erskine, Lord, letter to Washington, ii. 650, n.; Washing
ton's reply, ii. 650.

Erskine, Sir Wm., at Danbury, i. 562.
Etchoe, i. 155.
Eustis, Gen., i. 657.
Eutaw, battle of, i. 547, 699, ii. 222.
Exmouth, Lord, on Lake Champlain, i. 495, n.
Experiment, The, i. 436 ; ii. 96.
Eyre, Lt. Col., falls at New London in, ii. 250.
Fairfax Town, i. 37.
Fairfax, Ann, i. 32.
Fairfax, Geo. William, i. 35, 36 ; letter to, i. 305.
Fairfax, LordThos., his character and estates, i. 33 ; leads
troops to the aid of Washington, i. 34 ; a loyalist, t'6.;
his friendship to Washington, i. 34 ; employs him as
surveyor, ib.; aids Washington, i. 61 ; his neighbor, i.
161 ; fond of fox-hunting, i. 162.
Fairfax, Hon. Wm., i. 32 ; letter to, i. 72 ; letter of, i. 102.
Fair, American, The, ii. 57.
Falcon, The, i. 396.
Falmouth burned by English, i. 396.
Faneuil Hall, convention at, i. 198.
Fauquier, Francis, Gov. of Va., i. 106 ; dissolves Assembly.
i. 176 ; dies, i. 209.
Fauchet, French minister, ii. 577, 608.
Fellowes, Gen., retreats, i. 474 ; Gates applies to, i. 561, n.
Fenton, Col., sent to Sam. Adams, i. 292.
Ferguson, Adam, i. 688 ; refused passport, i. 692.
Ferguson, Capt. Patrick, destroys American stores at Little
Egg Harbor, ii. 45.
Ferguson, Col., killed, ii. 162.
Ferguson, Maj., sent to organize Tories, ii. 153 ; pursued
by Col. Campbell and others, ii. 154 ; makes a stand at
King's Mountain, ib.; defeated and killed, ii. 155.
Fermoy, Gen., i. 528 ; at Ticonderoga, i. 625.
Ferrer family, i. 15.
Few, William, signs constitution, ii. 363
Fishkill, i. 645.
Fitzhugh, Col., i. 73.
Fitzsimmons, Thos., signs constitution, ii. 363.
Flamborough Head, ii. 61, 62.
Flatbush, i. 453.
Flatlands, i. 453.
Fleming, Capt., killed at Princeton, i. 537.
Fleury, Lt. Col. Louis, i. 576 ; report on state of Fort
Mifflin, i. 601 ; sent to D'Estaing, ii. 39.
Florida ceded to England, i. 152 ; troops sent to, ii. 35.
Folson, Nathaniel, M. C, at Valley Forge, i. 679.
Forbes, Gen., account of, i. 121, n.; sent against Fort Du
quesne, i. Ill, ii. 504 ; his forces, i. Ill, n.; sickness of, i.
112 ; occupies fort, i. 121 ; death of, ib., n.
Ford, Col., i. 511.
Fordham, i. 490.
Fordyce, Capt., defeated and killed at Norfolk, i. 321.
Forster, Capt., takes the Cedars, i. 384 ; defeats Sher
burne, ib.
Fort Anne defended by Long, i. 626.
Fort Assumption, i. 127.
Fort Chamblee taken by Montgomery, i. 379.

INDEX.

743

Fort Chartres, i. 232.
Fort Clinton, defence of, i. 615, 616, 643.
Fort Constitution menaced, i. 486 ; evacuated, i. 645.
Fort Cumberland, i. 99, 104.
Fort Dinwiddie, i. 98.
Fort Duquesne, English post taken by Cortrecoeur, com
pleted and called, i. 63 ; occupied by Forbes and styled
Fort Pitt, i. 121.
Fort Edward, i.624, 650, ii. 121 ; abandoned, i. 629 ; Bur
goyne tries to reach, i. 642.
Fort Fayette, ii. 87 ; taken by Clinton, t6.; Washington
fails to retake, ii. 91.
Fort. Forty, ii. 65 ; surrendered, ii. 66.
Fort Frederick, i. 115.
Fort Frontenac taken by Bradstreet, i. 110.
Fort Gage, i. 322.
Fort George evacuated, i. 629, ii. 121 ; Burgoyne tries to
reach, i. 642.
Fort Godolphin, i. 699.
Fort Granby, Sumter destroys magazines at, ii. 162.
Fort Griswold, capture of, ii. 250.
Fort Hamilton, ii. 478.
Fort Independence abandoned, i. 489 ; invested by Heath,
i. 556.
Fort Independence, i. 644 ; evacuated, i. 645.
Fort Jefferson built by Clarke, ii. 80 ; St. Clare at, ii. 478 ;
Wayne at, ii. 579.
Fort Le Bosuf, Washington's description of, i. 56 ; taken
by Indians, i. 1 65.
Fort Lee, Gen. Mercer at, i. 474 ; fires on English vessels,
i. 484 ; evacuated, i. 493.
Fort Loudoun built, i. 104; Washington commands, i.
106 ; invested by Cherokees, i. 155.
Fort Mercer, i. 590, 595 ; Col. Greene at, i. 596 ; English
repulsed at, i. 597 ; state of, i. 598 ; evacuated, i. 603.
Fort Michilimackinack taken, i. 165.
Fort Mifflin, i. 591 ; attacked by Howe, i. 595 ; state of, i.
598 ; second attack, i. 601 ; evacuated, i. 602.
Fort Montgomery menaced, i. 446 ; defence of, i. 615,
643.
Fort Moultrie, defence of, i. 436, ii. 165 ; English before,
ii. 130.
Fort Nevis taken, i. 136.
Fort Necessity, i. 68.
Fort Oswego, i. 55 ; should be strengthened,!. 85, ii. 121.
Fort Pitt, i. 121 (see Fort Duquesne, Pittsburg) ; attacked
by Indians, i. 165 ; Bouquet sent to, ib.; Washington
visits, i. 225.
Fort Presqu'ile, i. 141 ; taken by Indians, i. 165.
Fort Prince George, i. 154.
Fort Eecovery, ii. 579.
Fort Schuyler holds out against St. Leger, i. 633, ii. 121 ;
expedition from, ii. 86.
Fort Stanwix, i. 104, 633, ii. 121.
Fort Venango, i. 55, 57, 90 ; taken by Indians, i. 165.
Fort Washington, i. 474 ; fires on English vessels, i. 484 ;
defended by Magaw, i. 490 ; surrendered, i. 492 ; ill-
treatment of garrison, i. 553.

Fort Washington, ii. 461, 478.
Fort Watson attacked by Sumter, ii. 162 ; taken, ii. 220.
Fort William Henry, i. 109.
Fort Wintermoots taken by English, ii. 65, 77.
Fox, Ch. Jas., remarks on Washington, ii. 652.
Fox Grapevine Creek, i. 229.
Fox Island, ii. 59.
Franklin, Benj . , sketch of, i. 50, 462-470 ; account of early
life, i. 77, 463 ; goes to England, i. 463 ; public conduct,
i. 464 ; publications and philosophical experiments, ib.;
in Albany Convention, i. 78, 464 ; another scheme, i.
79 ; coincidence, i. 82 ; aids Braddock, i. 88 ; cautions
him, i. 90 ; made colonel, i. 465 ; agent in England, ib.;
announces Stamp Act, i. 173 ; examination in Parlia
ment, i. 181, 465 ; estimate of Lord Hillsborough, i. 216 ;
transmits Hutchinson's and Oliver's letters, i. 239 ; cen
sured, ib.; returns to America, i. 465 ; elected to Con
gress, ib.; letter to Strahan, i. 466 ; visits camp, i. 394,
466 ; sent to Howe, i. 459, 466 ; President of Pennsyl
vania Convention, i. 466 ; sent to France, i. 467, 686 ;
signs treaty, i. 468, 688 ; President of Pennsylvania, i.
468, r..; constitutional convention, ii. 350 ; signs consti
tution, ii. 363 ; petitions for abolition of slavery, ii. 436 ;
death and burial, i. 468, ii. 437.
Franklin, James, publisher, i. 77.
Fraser, Gen., at Three Eivers, i. 384 ; defeats Thompson.
ib.; with Burgoyne, i. 622 ; defeats St. Clair, i. 625 ;
killed at Saratoga, i. 639, 640, ii. 168 ; burial, i. 641.
Fraser, Maj., repulsed by Sumter, ii. 162.
Frazier, John, i. 55, 63.
Fredericktown, i. 35, 38, 87.
Fredericksburg, Va., i. 13, 52.
French on the Mississippi, i. 53 ; ground' of claim, i. 55 ;
extent of claim, ib.; on the Ohio, ib.; forts, ib.; expel Ohio
Company and erect Fort Duquesne, i. 63 ; force Wash
ington to capitulate and retire, i. 70 ; seize British
traders, i. 80 ; their traders seized by Miamis, ib.;
their shipping taken, ib.; defeat Braddock at the Mo
nongahela, i. 93 ; lose Louisburg, i. 108 ; repulse Eng
lish at Ticonderoga, i. 109 ; lose Fort Frontenac, i. 110 ;
defeated by Chickasaws, i. 127 ; abandon Ticonderoga
and Crown Point, i. 140 ; attempt to save Niagara, i.
141 ; defeated, ib.; permit American privateers to sell
prizes in their ports, i. 559 ; form alliance with the
United States, i. 688 ; send troops to America, ii. 35,
109 ; send Gerard as minister, ii. 36 ; their army at
Yorktown, ii. 251 ; departure of troops, ii. 279 ; pro
gress of liberal ideas in, ii. 330 ; overthrow monarchy,
ii. 520 ; revolution, how viewed in America, ii. 499 ;
send a minister to the United States, ii. 520, 521 ;
make war on England and Holland, ii. 519 ; seize
English ships in American waters, ii. 524 ; recall
Genet, ii. 577 ; send Fauchet, ib.; receive Monroe, ii.
619 ; send colors by Adet, ii. 620 ; refuse to receive
Pinckney, ii. 667 ; war with, ii. 677.
French Creek, i. 55, 579.
Friendship, The, i. 436.
Frog's Neck, i. 484.

744

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Fry, Col. Joshua, Washington serves under, i. 62 ; he
dies at Wells Creek, i. 68.
Fyles composes Hail Columbia, ii. 390.
Gadsden, Chris., i. 346.
Gage, Gen., sends troops to Boston, i. 196 ; account of,
i. 243 ; orders Dalrymple to Boston, i. 196 ; orders him
to take possession of Castle William, i. 237 ; appointed
Governor, i. 254 ; convenes Assembly, ib.; arrives at
Boston, i. 261 ; issues proclamation against the Solemn
League, i. 264 ; another to encourage piety, i. 265 ;
fortifies Eoxbury Neck, ib.; seizes powder at Charles-
town, ib.; attempts to win Samuel Adams, i. 292 ; at
tempts to seize cannon at Salem, i. 302 ; at Concord, i.
203 ; sends aid to Smith, i. 304 ; encourages Dr. Con
nelly, i. 322 ; blockaded in Boston, i. 329 ; proclama
tion of, i. 349 ; attempts to dislodge Americans from
Breed's Hill, i. 350 ; bombards Charlestown, i. 351 ;
unbecoming letter to Washington, i. 373 ; his opinion
of the Declaration, i. 376, n.; opinion of American
troops, i. 390 ; recalled to England, i. 391.
Gambier, Admiral, Lord Howe resigns command to, ii. 43.
Gansevoort, Col., defends Fort Schuyler, i. 633.
Gaspee (Schooner), case of, i. 237, 238.
Gates, Horatio, sketch of, ii. 167 ; enters British army, ib.;
at Braddock's defeat, ib.; adjutant-general, i. 338, ii.
167 ; disciplines army, i. 369 ; opposes attack, i. 408 ;
appointed to command northern army, i. 493, ii. 167 ;
called in by Washington, i. 509, ii. 167 ; applied to for
aid, i. 599 ; president of the board of war, i. 606, 674 j
succeeds Schuyler, i. 636, ii. 167 ; detaches Lincoln, i.
652 ; advances to Stillwater, i. 637 ; battle of Still
water, i. 637, ii. 167 ; battle of Saratoga, i. 639, ii. 168 ;
receives capitulation of Burgoyne, i. 643, ii. 123, 169 ;
gold medal voted to, ii. 170 ; reinforces Putnam, i. 645 ;
vote of thanks to, i. 646 ; ordered to the Hudson, ib.;
in Conway's cabal, i. 673, ii. 170 ; sent to Danbury, ii.
44 ; to the South, ii. 142 ; rejects DeKalb's advice, ib.;
defeated at Camden, ii. 145, 170 ; flies from the field,
ib ¦ reports to Washington, ii. 149 ; endeavors to re
assemble army, ii. 150, 171 ; abandoned by Congress, ii.
151 ; superseded by Greene, ii. 171, 195 ; general order,
ii. 171 ; his subsequent career, ib.; at Newburg, ii. 282.
General Moultrie, The, ii. 57.
Genet, E. C, minister of the French Kepublic, ii. 521 ;
his instructions, ii. 523 ; reception at Charleston, ib.;
at Philadelphia, ii. 524 ; complaints of British minister,
ib.; dissatisfied with government, ib.; demands release of
two violators of neutrality laws, ii. 526 ; his conduct in
the case of the Little Sarah, ii. 528 ; violent letters, ii.
526, 531 ; Washington demands his recall, ii. 533, 576 ;
his recall, ii. 533, 557, 577 ; plans against Florida and
Louisiana, ii. 533, 576.
George III., petitions of Continental Congress to, i. 281,
332 ; statue thrown down, i. 445.
Georgetown, S. C, i. 573.
Georgia founded, i. 10 ; sends delegates to Congress, i. 327.
Gerard, M., first French ambassador, ii. 35.

Germain, Lord G., letter to, i. 642.
Germantown, i. 517, 592 ; battle of, i. 593.
Gerry, Elbridge, appointed to attend Lee, i. 362.
Gibson, Col. Geo., sketch of, ii. 501 ; sent to New Orleans,
ib.; at Trenton, ii. 503 ; mortally wounded at St. Clair's
defeat, ib.
Gibson, Gen. John, sketch of, ii. 504 ; under Gen. Forbes,
ib.; Logan's interview with, ii. 505 ; services during the
Eevolution, ib.
Gilman, Nicholas, in convention, ii. 350 ; signs constitu
tion, ii. 363.
Gimat, Chev. Col., i. 605, ii. 253.
Gist, Christopher, guide, i. 52 ; suffers on march, i. 58 ;
his journal, i. 59 ; informs Washington of approach of
French, i. 65.
Gist, Gen., ii. 194.
Glasgow, The, i. 352.
Gloucester, Duke of, i. 571.
Gloucester, English repulsed at, i. 396.
Gloucester Point, i. 603 ; skirmish at, i. 605 ; English at,
ii. 251, 252.
Glover, Col., i. 458, n., i. 642, n.
Gooch, i. 492.
Gordon's Ford, i. 580.
Gorham, Nathaniel, in convention, ii. 350 ; signs consti
tution, ii. 363.
Gornell, Serjeant, hung for attempt to betray Greene, ii.
276.
Gould, Lt. Col., killed, i. 563.
Gowanus Bay, i. 452.
Graham, Mrs. C. M., visits Mount Vernon, ii. 334.
Granby taken, ii. 221.
Grange, case of the, ii. 524, 525.
Grant, Capt., saves remnant of Dalyell' s force, i. 165.
Grant, Maj. Gen., in Cherokee war, ii. 210 ; under Howe,
i. 453 ; at Bound Brook, i. 561 ; at Brandywine, i. 575 ;
attempts to surprise Lafayette, ii. 11 ; sails to the West
Indies, ii. 48.
Grant, Maj., defeated by French, i. 119.
Grapevinetown, i. 229.
Graves, Admiral, i. 397 ; reinforces Arbuthnot, ii. 109 :
engages De Grasse, ii. 249.
Gravesend, i. 453.
Grayson, i. 476.
Great Kenhawa, i. 226.
Great Meadows, action at, i. 65.
Greene, Nathaniel, sketch of, ii. 235 ; made colonel, ib.; ap
pointed brigadier-general, i. 338 ; commands the second
division at Dorchester, i. 410, ii. 236 ; appointed to com
mand at New York, i. 438 ; sickness of, i. 450, 473 ; ad
vises burning of New York, i. 473 ; in command of the
Jerseys, i. 489 ; visits Fort Washington, i. 490 ; appoint
ed quartermaster, i. 517, ii. 238 ; at Princeton, i. 536, ii.
237 ; sent to attack Howe's rear, i. 568 ; at Brandywine,
i. 576, ii. 237 ; at Germantown, ii. 237 ; follows Corn
wallis, i. 603 ; at Monmouth, ii. 19, 238 ; sent to Ehode
Island, ii. 37 ; Washington's report as to, ib.; joins Sul
livan, ii. 38 ; sent to D'Estaing, ii. 38 ; Washington's

INDEX.

745

letter to, ii. 42 ; engages Clinton, ii. 105 ; president of
the board in Andrews case, ii. 115, 123, 238 ; insists on
hanging him, ii. 238 ; preferred by Washington for
Southern command, ii. 142 ; his ability, ii. 156 ; suc
ceeds Gates, ii. 195 ; detaches Morgan, ii. 196 ; joins his
division and continues retreat, ii. 202 ; makes a stand
at Guilford Court House, ii. 204 ; defeats Cornwallis, ii.
205-207 ; his account of the state of affairs, ii. 218 ;
pursues Cornwallis, to Eamsay's Mills, ib.; changes his
plan and marches into S. Carolina, ii. 219 ; engages
Bawdon at Hobkirk's Hill, ii. 220 ; repulsed at Ninety-
Six, ii. 221 ; engages Stuart at Eutaw Springs, ii. 222 ;
plot to deliver him up, ii. 240, 276 ; his position in
1783, ii. 276 ; gratitude of several States to, ib.; monu
ment ordered, ib.; estimates of his ability, ii. 241.
Greene, Col. Christopher, at Bed Bank, i. 596 ; defends it,
i. 597 ; thanked by Congress, i. 598.
Greene, Lt. Col. John, at Fort Mifflin, i. 596.
Greene, Maj., defeats Bogers, i. 486.
Greenway Court, i. 33, 39.
Gregg, Col., i. 631.
Gregory, Mildred, Washington's godmother, i. 12.
Grenada taken by French, ii. 95.
Grenville introduces the Stamp Act, i. 173 ; new project of,
i.191.
Grey, Maj. Gen. Sir Charles, i. 546 ; at the Brandywine, i.
577 ; surprises Wayne at the Paoli Tavern, i. 580 ; his
barbarity there, ii. 44 ; at Germantown, i. 592 ; at
Schuylkill Ford, ii. 11 ; sent to Buzzard's Bay, ii. 44 ;
burns Bedford and Fairhaven, ib.; ravages Martha's
Vineyard, ib.; surprises Baylor, ii. 45 ; rewarded for his
atrocious cruelty with a peerage, ii. 46, n.
Gridley, Col., plans Pepperrell's batteries, i. 134.
Gridley, argues in defence of Stamp Act, i. 170.
Grimes, Miss (afterwards Mrs. Lee), Washington's first
love, i. 30.
Guilford C. H, i. 547, 699 ; battle of, ii. 205-207, 234.
Gunby, Col., at Guilford C. H, ii. 206.
Hack, Capt., killed, ii. 162.
Hackensack, i. 502.
Hail Columbia, composed by Fyles, ii. 390.
Hale, Sir Matthew, his contemplations used by Mrs. Mary
Washington, i. 19.
Hale, Capt. Nathan, sketch of, i. 500 ; hanged as a spy, i.
473, ii. 123.
Halket, Sir Peter, sails from Cork, i. 81 ; killed at the
Monongahela, i. 93.
Hallowell, Benj., comptroller of customs, i. 177.
Hamilton, Alexander, sketch of, ii. 404, 589 ; captain of
artillery, i. 476, ii. 589 ; seizes stores, i. 582 ; made aid
to Washington, ii. 590 ; sent to Gates, i. 599, ii. 590 ;
to D'Estaing, ii. 36 ; at West Point, ii. 115 ; at York-
town, ii. 253 ; in Congress, ii. 405, 590 ; in Convention,
ii. 350 ; signs constitution, ii. 363 ; his papers in corre
spondence with Washington, ii. 370-373 ; appointed
Secretary of the Treasury, ii. 404 ; report on the finances,
ii. 423 ; debate, ii. 426 ; further reports, ii. 456 ; Wash

ington's course with, ii. 465 ; opposition to Jefferson, ii.
465, 487 ; Fitzsimmons' and Giles' motions as to him,
ii. 495-497 ; urges Washington to serve a second term,
ii. 509 ; defends Jay's treaty, ii. 591 ; resigns his post
as Secretary, ii. 597 ; killed by Burr, ii. 591.
Hamilton, Gerard, just estimate of the power of the colo
nies, i. 193.
Hamilton, Gen., with Burgoyne, i. 622.
Hamilton, Col., English Governor of Detroit, ii. 67 ; sur
renders at Vincennes, ib.
Hamilton, Maj., taken, i. 645.
Hammond, George, English minister to the U. S. ii. 491 ;
complains of Genet, ii. 525 ; of Bandolph, ii. 608.
Hampton, Gen., i. 658.
Hampton attacked by Dunmore, i. 321 ; relieved by Wil
liamsburg rifles, ib.
Hamtranck, Maj., ii. 478.
Hancock, John, sketch of, ii. 544 ; his style of life, ib.;
oration on massacre, ib.; his action in regard to the tea,
i. 248 ; resides at Lexington, i. 294, ii. 547 ; warned of
danger, ib.; excepted in Gage's proclamation, ib.; Presi
dent of Provincial Congress of Mass., i. 299, ii. 547 ;
President of the Continental Congress, i. 329, ii. 547 ;
signs Declaration as President, ii. 547 ; Gov. of Mass., ii.
548 ; death, ii. 536, 548.
Hancock's Bridge, ii. 10.
Hand, Gen., engages enemy, i. 486 ; commands northern
army, i. 654 ; on Andre's trial, ii. 123.
Hanger, Maj., repulsed by Davie, ii. 209.
Hanging Eock, action at, ii. 162.
Hanson, ill-treatment of, i. 554.
Harcourt, Col., takes Lee, i. 510, ii. 31.
Harden, Col., in Harmar's expedition, ii. 461 ; murdered,
ii. 492.
Harmar, Gen., sent against Miamis, ii. 461 ; defeated, ii.
462.
Harrison, Benj., delegate to the General Congress, i. 260,
276 ; opposes raising of troops, i. 308 ; accedes and
serves on committee, i. 312 ; one of committee to visit
army, i. 394 ; Washington's letter to, ii. 69, 319 ; rec
ommends internal improvements as Gov. of Va., ii. 320.
Harrison, Eobert, i. 267 ; made Judge of the Supreme
Court, ii. 406.
Harrison, W. H., born in Va., i. 12.
Haslet, Col., killed at Princeton, i. 537, 545.
Hatborough ; see Crooked Billet.
Havana taken, i. 141, ii. 75.
Hawke, Sir Edward, i. 80.
Hawley, Maj., i. 294.
Hayne, Col., hanged by Bawdon, ii. 223, n.
Hazen, Col., sent to Albany, i. 683.
Hazlewood, Com., i. 595 ; thanked by Congress, i. 598.
Heard, Sir Isaac, Garter King-at-arms, letter of Washing
ton, i. 14.
Heath, Maj. Gen. William, sketch of, i. 423 ; appointed
brigadier-general, i. 300, 338 ; completes works on Cob
ble Hill, i. 399 ; sent to New York, i. 418 ; made major-
general, i. 423 ; commander of the eastern department,

746

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

i. 423, ii. 248 ; takes census of Burgoyne's army, i. 423,
685 ; called in by Washington, i. 509 ; ordered into
Jersey, i. 533 ; vain attempt on Fort Independence, i.
556 ; letter of Washington to, on Sullivan and D'Es
taing, ii. 42.
Hendrick rebukes commissioners at Albany, i. 76.
Henry, Patrick, sketch of, i. 314-316 ; introduces resolu
tions against Stamp Act, i. 174 ; his debate, i. 175,
184-188 ; signs Virginia Association, i. 210, 340 ; sup
ports Carr's motion, i. 240 ; delegate to the General
Congress, i. 260, 273, 341 ; opens proceedings, i. 274 ;
appointed to draw address to the King, i. 275 ; his ad
dress not accepted, i. 276 ; opinion of Washington, i.
284 ; moves to raise troops, i. 307 ; speech, i. 309 ; op
poses Dunmore, i. 315, 341 ; Governor of Va., i. 315 ;
approves Clarke's western expedition, ii. 79 ; opposes
constitution, ii. 316; declines a post in Washington's
cabinet, ii. 609 ; declines embassy to France, ii. 677.
Herkimer, Gen., defeated and killed, i. 633.
Herrick, Col., at Bennington, i. 632.
Herringtown, ii. 45.
Hertburn, William de (I.), i. 13 ; (II.), i. 16.
Hessians employed by English, i. 433 ; on Long Island, i.
453 ; attempt to seduce, i. 461.
Heth, Col., i. 498.
Hewitt, Capt., ii. 76.
Hilary, Dr., i. 42.
Hillsborough, Lord, dissolves Assembly of Massachusetts,
i. 195 ; orders Gage to send a regiment to Boston, i. 197;
promises to repeal part of obnoxious act, i. 215 ; letter
to Lord Botetourt, i. 216 ; Franklin's idea of, ib.; resigns,
i. 238.
Hillsborough, i. 536, 547 ; Gates retreats to, ii. 179, 194.
Hite, Capt., i. 35.
Hobkirk's Hill, ii. 219 ; battle at, i. 547, ii. 220 ; Wash
ington at, ii. 472.
Hochockin, fort proposed at, i. 85.
Holborne, Admiral, i. 80.
Hood, Sir Samuel, engages De Grasse, ii. 247 ; pursues
him, ii. 249.
Hopewell, ii. 16.
Hopkins, Com., reduces New Providence, ii. 55, 60, 296.
Hopkins, Chief Justice, i. 237.
Hopkins, Stephen, i. 76, n.
Hopkinson, Francis, i. 289.
Howard, Col. John E., sketch of, ii. 230 ; his account of
the battle of Germantown, ii. 231 ; sent to the South,
ii. 196, 232 ; at Cowpens, ii. 199-201 ; his account of
the battle, ii. 232, 233 ; with Williams, ii. 233 ; his ac
count of the battle of Guilford Court House, ii. 234 ;
wounded at Eutaw Springs, ii. 234 ; his subsequent ser
vices, ii. 609 ; John Q. Adams' remarks on death of, ii.
235 ; medal to, ii. 201, n.; portrait ordered by his State,
ii. 235.
Howard, Martin, i. 76, «.; writes against Stamp Act, i. 177.
Howe, Lord Viscount G., notice of, i. 109, r,.; killed at
Ticonderoga, i. 109, 651 ; Schuyler takes his body to
Albany, ii. 120.

Howe, Admiral Earl, reaches Halifax, i. 442 ; sails to New
York, ib.; lands troops, i. 449 ; attempts to cut oft
Washington's communications, i. 446 ; offers terms, ib.;
correspondence with Franklin, i. 447 ; with Washing
ton, ib.; issues proclamation, i. 507 ; attempts to win
Eeed, i. 515 ; in the Chesapeake, i. 575 ; issues procla
mation, ib.; in the Delaware, i. 597 ; at the Mischianza,
ii. 13, n.; removes Clinton's army, ii. 15 ; pursues
D'Estaing, ii. 39, 43 ; resigns, ii. 43.
Howe, Gen. Sir William, sketch of, i. 145, 587 ; at Que
bec, ib.; arrives at Boston, i. 349, 587 ; attacks Ameri
cans on Bunker's Hill, i. 350-352,587; occupies Bunker's
Hill, i. 363, 587 ; succeeds Gage, i. 391, 587 ; deter
mines to attack Washington, i. 410 ; ordered to aban
don Boston, i. 411 ; retreats, i. 413 ; steers to Halifax,
i. 414 ; appointed to command expedition against New
York, i. 441 ; proceeds to that city, i. 442 ; gains
battle of Brooklyn Heights, i. 457 ; sends Sullivan
with proposals, i. 459 ; his position, i. 476 ; advances
up the island, i. 484 ; checked at Frog's Neck, i. 485 ;
takes post at New Bochelle, ib.; advances to White-
plains, ib.; encamps at Fordham, i. 490 ; takes Fort
Washington, i. 491 ; barbarity to Capt. Hale, i. 500 ;
proclamation, i. 507 ; treats Lee as a deserter, i. 553 ;
his barbarity, i 554 ; marches to Middlebrook, i. 566 ;
retreats to Staten Island, i. 567 ; attempts to bring
Washington to battle, i. 568 ; retires to Staten Island,
i. 569 ; sails from New York, i. 570 ; at Elkton, i. 575 ;
defeats Washington at the Brandywine, i. 575, 587 ; his
false return of killed and wounded, i. 577 ; enters Phil
adelphia, i. 582 ; attacks Fort Mifflin, i. 595 ; takes it, i.
602 ; attempts to surprise Washington, i. 606 ; his sub
sequent inaction, i. 610 ; superseded by Clinton, i. 587 ;
his character, i. 588 ; attempts to surprise Lafayette, ii.
10 ; resigns the command, ii. 12 ; fete to, ib., n.
Howe, Maj. Gen. Bob., invades East Florida, ii. 48 ; de
feated by Campbell, ii. 49 ; superseded by Lincoln, ii.
127 ; in command of West Point, ii. 113 ; on Andre's
trial, ii. 123 ; suppresses revolt of Jersey troops, ii. 179 ;
suppresses mutiny at Lancaster, ii. 289-290.
Hubbardton, action at, i. 625.
Huddersfield, ii. 15.
Huddy, Capt., hanged by British, ii. 271.
Huger, Gen., defeated by Tarleton, ii. 132 ; at Guilford
C. H., ii. 205.
Humphreys, Col. David, sketch of, ii. 615 ; secretary to
Washington, ii. 378, 383, 388, 615 ; his public services,
ii. 616 ; his poetical talent, ii. 390, 616.
Huntington, Col., at Danbury, i. 562 ; on Andre" s trial,
ii. 123.
Hutchinson, Lt. Gov. of Mass., his house sacked by mob,
i. 177 ; prorogues Assembly, i. 219; forced to yield to
merchants, t'6.; tries to quiet people, i. 220, 292 ; re
moves Assembly to Cambridge, i. 222 ; notice of, i. 220 ;
made governor, i. 234 ; surrenders Castle William, i.
237 ; account of, i. 242, 243 ; asks aid to land tea, i. 248.
Hutchinson, Thomas, i. 76, n.
Hyder AH, the, captures the General Monk, ii. 271.

INDEX.

747

Indians, Washington conciliates, i. 54; they join him, i.
64 ; the Six Nations, i. 75 ; Miamis, i. 80 ; join Brad
dock, i. 89-95 ; ravage Western Virginia, i. 99, 100 ;
join Gen. Forbes, i. Ill ; accompany Johnson, i. 140 ;
Cherokees make war, i. 155 ; Pontiac's revolt against
English, i. 165 ; make peace, i. 167 ; Congress addresses,
i. 330 ; Stuart excites Cherokees and Creeks, i. 437 ;
Iroquois join English, i. 618 ; chastised by Sullivan
and Clinton, ib.; excited to hostilities by English, ii.
64 ; destroy Wyoming, ib.; attack Cherry Valley, ib.;
treaty with, ii. 609 ; see Cherokees, Creeks, Miamis,
Mohawks, Six Nations, &c.
Inflexible, the, i. 494.
Ingersoll, Jared, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Internal improvements, Washington's interest in, ii. 317.
Iroquois chastised by Sullivan, i. 618.
Irvine, Gen., i. 529 ; fails in attempt on Bordentown, i.
531, 544 ; at Chestnut Hill, i. 607.
Isle aux Nois, French stand at, i. 140 ; American depreda
tions at, i. 378 ; Carleton's outposts at, i. 496 ; English
retire to, i. 646.
Jackson, Andrew, in the House of Eepresentatives, ii. 638.
Jackson, Maj. Gen. James, sketch of, ii. 466 ; Governor of
Georgia, ii. 467 ; in Congress, ii. 458, 467.
Jackson, Maj. William, account of Laurens' negotiation, ii.
513 ; aid to Washington, ii. 388 ; secretary, ii. 469.
Jacobin Clubs at Philadelphia and other cities, ii. 527 ;
support French pretensions, ii. 528.
Jamaica, address of, to King, i. 307 ; action on, in Vir
ginia Assembly, ib.; negro troubles in, i. 559.
Jamaica (L. I.), i. 454.
Jameson, Lt. Col., endeavors to arrest Arnold, ii. 115.
Jameson, Maj., i. 671.
James Biver, company for improving navigation of, ii.
320 ; Washington's co-operation, ti.; declines gift of
shares, ii. 322.
Jamestown, action at, i. 705.
Jasper, Sergeant, i. 437.
Jay, John, sketch of, ii. 355 ; in first Congress, ib.; drafts
Constitution of New York, ib.; in Continental Congress,
i. 275 ; drafts address to people of Great Britain, i. 275,
ii. 355 ; opposes prayers in Congress, i. 276 ; sent to
France, ii. 355 ; signs treaty, i. 468 ; sent to England,
ii. 565 ; signs treaty, ii. 355 ; letter on a new govern
ment, ii. 341 ; Washington's reply, ii. 342 ; Ch. Justice
of the Supreme Court, ii. 355, 406 ; wounded in Doc
tor's mob, ii. 355 ; signs second treaty with England,
ii. 355, 605 ; its reception, ii. 600 ; Governor of New
York, ii. 355.
Jay's treaty, popular meeting to oppose, ii. 600; signed,
ii. 605 ; ratified, ii. 622 ; debate on, ii. 627.
Jefferson, Thomas, sketch of, ii. 707 ; remarks on Henry,
i. 175, 187 ; enters Virginia Assembly, i. 210, n.; his
resolutions of the right of taxation, ib.; signs Associa
tion, i. 210, 340, ii. 708 ; on committee to embody
militia, i. 312 ; sent to Continental Congress, i. 312,
341, ii. 708 ; nominates Washington as Commander-in-

chief, i. 336 ; author of Declaration of Independence, ii.
709 ; in Virginia Legislature, ib.; Governor of Virginia,
ib.; in Congress, ii. 710 ; sent minister to France, i. 468,
ii. 710 ; letter to Washington on internal improvements,
ii. 318 ; Secretary of State, ii. 404, 710 ; Washington's
course with, ii. 465 ; opposition to Hamilton, ii. 465,
487 ; Washington's letters to, ii. 488 ; urges Washing
ton to serve a second term, ii. 508 ; announces to
Washington the European war, ii. 519 ; Washington's
reply, ib.; proceedings with Genet, ii. 529-531 ; report
on commerce, 557 ; resigns the secretaryship, ii. 558 ;
letter of Washington to, ii. 630 ; Vice-President, ii. 641,
710 ; President, ii.; founds University of Virginia, ii.
711 ; his literary works, ti.
Jenifer, Daniel, of St. T., signs constitution, ii. 363.
Jersey Brigade, discontent of, ii. 83 ; reply to Washing
ton, ii. 84.
Jeskatke, i. 55.
Johnes, Baron des, ii. 162.
Johnson, Guy, at Chemung, ii. 94.
Johnson, Sir William, i. 76, n.; sketch of, i. 141, n.; In
dians under, i. 140 ; defeats French, i. 141 ; takes Fort ,
Niagara, ti.; at Bloody Pond, i. 650 ; Schuyler serves
under, ii. 120.
Johnson, W. S., signs constitution, ii. 363.
Johnson, Col., fails at Mount Independence, i. 639.
Johnstone, Gov., i. 518 ; a commissioner, i. 689 ; attempts
to bribe Beed, i. 693.
Joncaire, French commander at Venango, i. 55.
Jones, Com. John Paul, sketch of, ii. 60 ; serves under
Com. Hopkins, ib.; appinted to a ship, ti.; his cruises,
ii. 47, 60 ; act of Congress, ii. 62 ; subsequent career, ii.
63 ; commissioner to Algiers, ii. 492 ; death, ti.
Josiah, Lieutenant, case of, ii. 56.
Jumonville surprised and killed, i. 65 ; his death repre
sented as an assassination, i. 71.
Kaskaskia, French at, i. 53 ; taken by Clarke, ii. 79 ;
Hamilton's attempt on, ii. 67.
Keimer, Mr. i. 463.
Keith, Sir William, i. 463.
Kenhawa, i. 230.
Kentucky movement to open the Mississippi, ii. 535, 577.
Kiashuta accompanies Washington, i. 230.
King, Bufus, sketch of, ii. 542 ; in Continental Congress,
ii. 543 ; convention,!*.; signs constitution, ii. 363 ; sen
ator, ii. 543 ; ambassador to England, ii. 543, 544, 629 ;
declines to be Secretary of State, ii. 609 ; Hamilton's
opinion of, ii. 629.
King George's War, i. 49.
King William's War, i. 48.
King, The Half, i. 51, 53; reply to Washington, i. 54;
French try to gain, i. 57 ; joins Washington, i. 64 ; his
account of the affair at the Great Meadows, i. 67.
King's Bridge, i. 484, 489.
King's Ferry, ii. 86.
Kingston destroyed by the English, i. 616, 618.
Kipp's Bay, disgraceful retreat at, i. 474.

748

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Kirkwood, Maj. Kobert, sketch of, ii. 213 ; at Cowpens, ii.
214 ; killed at St. Clair's defeat, ii. 215.
Kittery Point, i. 126, 135.
Knox, Gen., sketch of, i. 548 ; joins army at Charlestown,
ti.; brings in cannon from Ticonderoga, i. 408, 549 ;
organizes artillery, i. 525 ; his advice at Princeton, i.
536 ; in battle of Monmouth, i. 549 ; proposed for com
mander at South, ji.; secretary of war, ii.; confers with
Varnum, i. 602 ; on Andre" s trial, ii. 123 ; at Newburg
meeting, ii. 286 ; suggests Cincinnati, ii. 337 ; appointed
secretary of war by Washington, ii. 405 ; accompanies
expedition in Whiskey Insurrection, ii. 592 ; resigns, ii.
597.
Knowlton, Col., detaches Hale, i. 473, 500, n.; engages
English, i. 477, 501 ; killed, ii.
Knyphausen, Gen., joins Howe, i. 485 ; commands left at
Whiteplains, i. 487 ; advances on Fort Washington, i.
489, 491 ; his regiment at Trenton, i. 545 ; at Brandy
wine, i. 575 ; his loss there, i. 577 ; advances up east
hank of Hudson, ii. 44 ; left in command at New York,
ii. 98 ; invades Jersey, ii. 101.
Kosciusko, sketch of, ii. 227 ; at Ninety-Six, ii. 229 ; his
subsequent career, ii. 230.
Lacey, Gen. John, sketch of, ii. 24 ; made captain, ii.;
serves under Wayne, ii. 25 ; sent to Canada, ii.; re
signs, ii.; appointed sub-lieutenant of Bucks Co., ii.;
joins Potter's brigade, ii.; his services, ii.; made briga
dier-general, ii. 26 ; at Crooked Billet, ii. 10, 26 ; his
further services and death, ii. 27.
La Colle Mill, action at, i. 658.
Lafayette, sketch of,'i. 571, ii. 325 ; Adams' Eulogy on, ii.
325 ; at Metz, i. 571 ; his enthusiasm for liberty, i. 573 ;
his arrangement with Deane, ii. 325 ; fits out a vessel,
i. 573 ; government attempts to stop, ii. 326 ; lands at
Charleston with De Kalb, i. 573, ii. 326 ; meets Wash
ington, i. 571 ; made a major-general, i. 574, ii. 326 ;
wounded at the battle of Brandywine, i. 576, ii. 326 ;
attacks Gloucester Point, i. 605 ; made general of divi
sion, i. 606, ii. 327 ; appointed to projected army for
Canada, i. 683, ii. 327, 271 ; expected to obtain French
co-operation, ii. 71 ; at Barren Hill, ii. 10, 327 ; at
Monmouth, ii. 327 ; his description of Washington
there, ii. 20 ; detached to Bhode Island, ii. 37 ; request
ed by D'Estaing to command French troops, ii. 38 ;
objects to Sullivan's siege of Newport, ii. 39 ; urges
D'Estaing to act, ii. 41 ; endeavors to prevent dissen
sion, ii.; returns to France, ii. 47, 328 ; his letter to
Congress, ii. 328; Washington's letter to, ii. 98; harsh
ly treated by the Court, ii. 329 ; appointed to command
King's own dragoons, ii.; labors to advance American
cause, ii.; returns to America, ii. 106, 329 ; one of the
board in Andre" s case, ii. 115, 123 ; checks Phillips in
Virginia, ii. 224 ; reinforced hy St. Simon, ii. 249 ;
storms redoubt at Yorktown, ii. 253, 329 ; goes to
France, ii. 265, 329 ; letter of Washington, ii. 265 ;
action of Congress, ii. 265, 329 ; appointed to staff of
the great French Spanish expedition from Cadiz, ii.

330 ; sends news of peace, ii. 289 ; returns to America,
ii. 320, 330 ; honors to, ii. 320, 323, 330 ; letter of
Washington to, ii. 323, 375 ; returns to France, ii.; in
Prussia, ii. 330 ; his political labors in France, ii.; ap
pointed commander of the National Guard, ii. 331 ;
saves the lives of the royal family, ii. 331 ; appointed
to command the army, ii.; defeats the allies at Philippe-
ville and Mauberge, ii.; outlawed by the Legislative
Assembly, ii.; flies from France, ii.; imprisoned by
Austrians, ii. 332, 518 ; letter of Washington to his
lady, ii. 518 ; reception of his son, ii. 648, 664, 666 ;
letter to, by his son, ii. 666 ; returns to France, ii. 332 ;
subsequent services, ji.; revisits America, ii.; his part
in the revolution of 1830, and death, ii.
Lafayette, Madame, letter of Washington to, ii. 518 ; she
solicits his influence, ii. 519.
Lafayette, G. W. M. de, comes to America, ii. 664 ; Wash
ington's course with, ib.; action in Congress, ii. 665 ;
Livingston's letter to, ii.; Washington's, ii.; goes to
reside with Washington in Philadelphia, ii. 666 ; at
Mount Vernon, ii. 648 ; returns to France, ii. 666.
La Force, i. 56, 65, 66.
Lake Champlain, Topography of, i. 622
Lamb, Col., i. 563.
Lancaster, mutiny at, ii. 289.
Landais, Capt., ii. 62.
Lane, Isaac, i. 312.
Langdon, John, sketch of, ii. 539 ; patriotism, i. 630 ; in
convention, ii. 350 ; signs constitution, ii. 363 ; his
services, ii. 539, 540 ; announces to Washington his
election as President, ii. 540.
Lamed, Gen., i. 429 ; at Saratoga, ii. 168.
La Salle, i. 55.
Launoy, Chev., at Gloucester Point, i. 605 ; fortifies
Charleston, ii. 131.
Laurel Hill, i. 117, 119.
Laurens, Henry, sketch of, i. 697 ; President of Congress,
i. 674 ; letter to, i. 675 ; sent to Holland, i. 697 ; taken
prisoner, i. 675, ii. 59, 175 ; signs treaty of peace with
England, i. 697, 468.
Laurens, Col. John, sketch of, ii. 51 ; at Brandywine,
Germantown, and Monmouth, ii.; aid to Washington,
ii. 33 ; sent to D'Estaing, ii. 36 ; in Bhode Island, ii.
51 ; at Coosawhatchie, ib.; sent to France, ii. 51, 180 ;
his negotiations, ii. 52, 53 ; Washington's letter to, ii.
243 ; at Yorktown, ii. 51, 253 ; commissioner, ii. 256 ;
his duel with Lee, ii. 33, 51 ; his death, ii. 51, 276 ;
character, ii.
Laurence's Neck, action at, i. 541.
Lawson, Gen., at Guilford C. H., ii. 205.
Lauzun, Duke de, at King's Bridge, ii. 246.
Lear, Tobias, private secretary of Washington, ii. 316,
383 ; letters to, ii. 449 ; again employed, ii. 677 ; his ac
count of Washington's death, ii. 682.
Lechmere's Point, action at, i. 398 ; fortified, i. 400.
Ledyard, Col. Wm., murder of, ii. 250 ; sketch of, ii. 262.
Lee, Arthur, Born in Westmoreland Co., i. 12.
Lee, Charles, sketch of, ii. 615 ; attorney-general, ii. 598, 615.

INDEX.

749

Lee, General Charles, sketch of, i. 358, ii. 30 ; comes to
America, ii. 30 ; under Abercrombie, ii.; under Bur
goyne in Portugal, i. 663, ii. 30 ; in Polish service, ii.
30 ; returns to America, ii.; major-general, i. 338, ii.
30 ; at Boston, i. 358, ii. 30 ; letter to Burgoyne, i. 363 ;
commands left wing, i. 369 ; New York, i 418, ii. 30 ;
sent South, i. 418 ; defends Charleston, ii.; thanks of
Congress, ii. 31 ; in North, i. 485 ; anecdote of, i. 487, n.;
opposes defence of Fort Washington, i. 492 ; called in,
i. 504 ; in Jersey, i. 509, ii. 30 ; captured, i. 510, ii. 30 ;
correspondence withBeed, i. 516 ; against battle, ii. 15 ;
commands advance, ii. 16 ; at Monmouth, ii. 18, 31 ;
letter to Washington, ii. 32 ; reply, ii.; court-martial,
ii. 22 ; death, ii. 33 ; extract from will, ii. 34.
Lee, Francis, i. 12.
Lee, Brig. Gen. Henry, sketch of, i. 698 ; at Fort Mifflin,
i. 601 ; on Schuylkill, i. 671 ; attempt to capture, i. 682,
698 ; surprises Donop, ii. 45 ; Stony Point, ii. 89 ; Paulus
Hook, i. 699, ii. 93 ; medal to, ii. 93 ; opposes Tarleton,
i. 699 ; surprises Georgetown, ii. 203 ; defeats enemy,
ii. 205 ; at Guilford C. H., ji.; takes Fort Watson, ii.
220 ; letter to Washington, ii. 368 ; Gov. of Virginia, ii.
586 ; commands army against insurgents, ii.; death
from mob violence, i. 700.
Lee, Eichard H., born in Westmoreland Co., i. 12 ; signs
Virginia Association, i. 210 ; supports Carr's motion, i.
240 ; delegate to the General Congress, i. 260, 341 ; the
Cicero of the Continental Congress, i. 275 ; appointed
to draw address to King, ii.; his address not accepted,
i. 276 ; draws memorial to British colonies, i. 281 ; ad
vocates raising troops, i. 312 ; moves Declaration of
Independence, i. 443.
Lee, schooner, takes brig Nancy, i. 395.
Leitch, Maj., i. 477, 501.
Le Gardeur de St. Pierre, i. 56.
Leslie, Brig. Gen., i. 487 ; at Charleston, ii. 134 ; in Vir
ginia, ii. 198 ; in Carolina, ii. 198, 201 ; at Guilford C.
H., ii. 206 ; at Charleston, ii. 276 ; proposes cessation
of hostilities, ii.
Leslie, Lt'. Col., i. 302 ; (Gen.) at Princeton, i. 533.
Levi, M. de, attempts to recover Quebec, i. 148 ; defeats
Murray at Sillery, and lays siege to Quebec, ii.
Lewis, Andrew, i. 312.
Lewis, Maj., taken prisoner, i. 120.
Lexington, battle of, i. 293 ; militia assemble at, i. 303 ;
attacked by Pitcairn, i. 304 ; Washington's account of,
i. 305.
Lexington (Ky.), founded, ii. 80.
Lexington, the, ii. 58.
Liberty, case of the sloop, i. 195.
Liberty Pole, i. 655.
Lincoln, Gen. Benj., sketch of, ii. 157 ; appointed major-
general by Massachusetts, ii.; major-general by Con
gress, ii.; surprised at Bound Brook, ib.; avoids Corn
wallis, i. 546, 562 ; resigns, i. 549 ; recruits troops, i.
628 ; sent to Vermont, i. 630, 652 ; surprises English on
Lake George, ii. 157, 638 ; wounded at Saratoga, ii.
158 ; sent to the South, ii. 127, 158 ; checks Prevost, ii.;
Vol. IL— 95

repulsed at Savannah, ii.; defence of Charleston, ii. 128,
159 ; surrenders, ii. 133, 159 ; exchanged, ii. 159 ; at
tacks British post at New York, ii. 246 ; at Yorktown,
ii. 159 ; made secretary of war, ii.; makes treaty with
Penobscot, ii.; suppresses Shay's rebellion, ii. 160 ;
Lt. Gov. of Mass., ii. 159, 548 ; correspondence with
Washington, ii. 374.
Lincoln, Levi, attorney-general, ii. 615.
Lindsay, Lt., i. 682.
Linsing, Lt. Col., i. 597.
L'Insurgente captured, ii. 677.
Lippencot, Capt., hangs Capt. Huddy, ii. 272 ; Clinton re
fuses to give him up, ii.
Littleton, Gov., marches against Cherokees, i. 154.
Little Egg Harbor, English attack on, ii. 45.
Little Meadows, i. 91.
Little Sarah, case of the, ii. 528.
Lively, sloop of war, i. 350.
Livingston, B. B., sketch of, ii. 715 ; in Continental Con
gress, i. 275 ; appointed on committee to draw address
to people of Great Britain, ii.; offers Jay's address, i.
276 ; one of committee to draft Declaration, ii. 715 ;
minister to France, ii.
Livingston, Van Brugh, i. 360.
Livingston, William, Gov. of New Jersey, ii. 350 ; signs
constitution, ii. 363.
Livingston, Col., at Quebec, i. 387, 388 ; taken, i. 645.
Logan, a Mingo chief, speech of, ii. 505.
Logan, Maj., taken, i. 645.
Logstown, Washington in, i. 51, 227.
Long, Col., i, 624 ; defends Fort Anne, i. 626.
Londonderry, i. 649.
L'Orient, ii. 52, 59.
Losberg's regiment, i. 545.
Loudoun, Earl of, commander-in-chief, convokes assembly
of governors at Philadelphia, i. 103 ; recalled, i. 107.
Louisburg, description, i. 126, 127 ; restored, i. 149 ; taken
by Pepperrell, i. 107, 133 ; by Boscawen and Amherst, ii.
Louisville founded, ii. 80.
Lovell, Gen., sent against Penobscot, ii. 93 ; his defeat, ii.
Lovell, Chairman of Com. of Foreign Eelations, i. 573.
Loyal Convert, the, i. 495.
Loyal Hanna, i. 115 ; fort built at, i. 119.
Lutwych, Com., i. 622.
Luzerne, the, ii. 59.
McClary, Maj. Andrew, i. 651.
McCrea, Miss, murder of, i. 636.
McDonald, ii. 94.
McDougal, Gen., i. 487 ; engages enemy, ti.; at Peekskill,
i. 561 ; at Germantown, i. 592 ; sent to Danbury, ii. 44 ;
at West Point, ii. 87.
McDowell, Maj., ii. 197 ; at Cowpens, ii. 199, 200.
McGillivray, Creek chief, ii. 395 ; opposes peace, ii. 414.
McGowan's Hill, i. 484.
McHenry, James, signs constitution, ii. 863 ; secretary of
war, ii. 609.
Mclntire ill-treated, i. 554.

750

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Mcintosh, Gen., sent against Detroit, ii. 64.
McKinstry, Capt. John, saved by Brant at battle of the
Cedars, i. 389.
McKonkey's Ferry, i. 530, 544.
McLane, Capt., baffles Howe, i. 607.
McLean, Col., retreats to Quebec, i. 381 ; (Gen.) takes
post at Penobscot, ii. 92 ; his defence, ii. 93.
MacKay, Capt., joins Washington at Fort Necessity, i.
69 ; left there, i. 72.
MacKenzie, Capt. Eobert, served under Washington, i.
284 ; with Gage at Boston, ii.; letter of Washington
to, ji.
Madison, James, sketch of, ii. 711 ; in the Legislature, ii.
712 ; in Congress, ib.; action with Washington on in
ternal improvements, ii. 321 ; commissioner at Annap
olis, ii. 712 ; in convention, ii.; signs constitution, ii.
363 ; defends it, ii. 712 ; in Congress, ii. 713 ; letters of
Washington to, ii. 536 ; report on commerce, ii. 558 ;
his share in the Farewell Address, ii. 713 ; his action
on the alien and sedition laws, ii.; Secretary of State,
ii. 714 ; President, ib.; rector of the university, ii.; his
writings, ii. 715.
Magaw, Col., ordered to hold Fort Washington to the
last, i. 490 ; surrenders, i. 492.
Mahon, Lord, his unjust censure of Washington, ii. 123.
Maidenhead, i. 536.
Maitland, Gen., at Savannah, ii. 173, 208.'
Mamaroneck, i. 486.
Manacatoocha, i. 51 ; Washington meets, i. 53.
Manchester, i. 649.
Manly, Capt., sketch of, i. 419 ; at Boston, i. 429 ; takes
the Nancy, i. 395 ; other prizes, i. 396.
Manufacturers, American, encouraged, i. 180.
Marblehead, generosity of, i. 262.
Maria, the, i. 494.
Marshall announces Washington' s death, ii. 685 ; charac
ter of Washington, ii. 689.
Marion, Gen. Francis, sketch of, ii. 210 ; service in the
Cherokee war, ii.; at Fort Moultrie, ii.; at Charleston,
ii. 197, 210 ; his guerilla warfare, ii. 197, 198 ; inter
view with a British officer, ii. 211.
Markoe, Capt., escorts Washington to King's Bridge, i.
358.
Martinique reduced, i. 151.
Maryland sends delegates to Albany, i. 75 ; interferes
with Virginia's plans, i. 103 ; Gov. of, at Philadelphia,
ib.; Stamp Act riots in, i. 179 ; sends delegates to Gen
eral Congress, i. 178 ; adopts articles of association, i.
210 ; riflemen from, join Washington, i. 375 ; sends
delegates to Annapolis, ii. 344.
Mason, Geo., i. 161 ; letter to, i. 205 ; letter of, i. 207.
Mason, S. T., sends Jay's treaty to the Aurora, ii. 599.
Massachusetts sends delegates to Albany, i. 75 ; against
Stamp Act, i. 176 ; calls for a General Congress, i. 178 ;
addresses circular to colonies, i. 195 ; Assembly refuses
to rescind resolutions and is dissolved, ii.; convention
at, i. 198 ; Assembly refuses to make any provision for
troops, i. 200 ; is prorogued, ii.; again prorogued, i.

219 ; removed to Cambridge, i. 222 ; protest against
King's paying governor and judges, ii.; General Court
protests against surrender of Castle William, i. 237 ;
assembles at Cambridge and adjourns to Boston, ii.;
Gov. Gage arrives, i. 260 ; convenes General Court at
Salem, ii.; action of Court, i. 263 ; opinions in, ii.;
Solemn League and Covenant adopted, ii.; sends dele
gates to Congress, i. 263, 293 ; Assembly at Salem, i.
299 ; not opened by governor, they adjourn to Concord
as a Provincial Congress, ii.; adjourn to Cambridge, ii.;
enlist minute-men, ii.; resolves to raise 12,000 men, i.
300 ; Provincial Congress, i. 302 ; adjourns to Water-
town, i. 317 ; resolves to raise 30,000 men, ii.; asks ad
vice of Congress, i. 330; Washington's reply to Con
gress of, i. 361 ; solicits a detachment from Washington,
i. 371 ; his letter, ii.; rebellion in, ii. 346, n.
Matson's Ford, ii. 11.
Matthews, Brig. Gen., i. 491 ; left at Brunswick, i. 566 ;
ravages Chesapeake Bay, ii. 96.
Maurepas, Count, ii. 53.
Mawhood, Col., defeated at Princeton, i. 535 ; defeats
American parties, ii. 10.
Maxwell, Gen., in Jersey, i. 511,533; surprises Elizabeth-
town, i. 539 ; at Middlebrook, i. 568 ; at Brandywine, i.
575 ; at Chester, i. 578; sent into New Jersey, ii. 14;
retires before Clinton, ii. 15, 16 ; defends Springfield,
ii. 104.
Maynard, Judge, i. 42.
Mecklenburgh Declaration, ii. 139.
Metucking Meeting-house, i. 568, 569.
Meigs, Lt. Col., destroys British stores, i. 563.
Mengerode, Lt. Col., killed, i. 597.
Mercer, Brig. Gen. Hugh, sketch of, ii. 716 ; at Culloden,
ii.; at battle of Kittaning, ii.; in command of Fort
Duquesne, ii.; neighbor of Washington, i. 161 ; made
brigadier-general, ii. 717 ; at Fort Lee, i. 474 ; com
mands Flying Camp, i. 504 ; advocates march on Prince
ton, ii. 717 ; killed at Princeton, i. 536, 537, 545, ii. 717 ;
Congress orders monument, i. 561 ; reinterred in 1840,
ii. 717.
Mercer, Capt., i. 99 ; killed, i. 100.
Merlin, the, burnt, i. 597, 598.
Mersereau prevents English crossing Delaware, i. 509, n.;
gains information, i. 528.
Miamis, i. 80 ; hostility of, ii. 438 ; defeat Harmar, ii.
462 ; St. Clair, ii. 478, 214 ; reduced by Wayne, ii. 581.
Middlebrook, Washington encamps at, i. 565 ; Howe ad
vances on, i. 566 ; American troops at, ii. 48, 82.
Middlebush, i. 566.
Middleton, Henry, President of Congress, i. 341.
Mifflin, Gen., sketch of, i. 512; enters Congress, ii.; aid to
Washington, i. 369 ; at Fort Constitution, i. 446 ; ad
vises defence of New York, i. 473 ; sent to Pennsylvania,
i. 505 ; brings up militia, i. 533 ; in board of war, i. 606 ;
in Conway Cabal, i. 512, 673 ; President of Congress, ii.
294 ; reply to Washington's resignation, ii. 293 ; meets
him in 1787, ii. 349 ; signs constitution, ii. 363 ; Gov
ernor of Pennsylvania, ii. 528.

INDEX.

751

Miles, Col., i. 454.
Mingoes, i. 54 ; their town, i. 228, 232.
Millstone Biver, i. 566.
Mischianza, the, ii. 12, n.
Mississippi, French on, i. 53.
Mitchell, Capt. Alex., at Wyoming, ii. 78.
Mohawks, i. 75.
Monckton, Brig. Gen., i. 142 ; succeeds Wolfe, i. 147 ; falls
wounded, ii.
Monk's Corner, i. 546 ; Tarleton at, ii. 132.
Monmouth, insurrection at, i. 505 ; battle of, i. 703, ii. 16.
Montcalm defeats Abercrombie, i. 109 ; detaches Bougain
ville, i. 145 ; defeated in the battle of the Heights of
Abraham, ii. 147 ; sketch of, ii., n.
Monongahela, i. 52 ; Washington advances to, i. 69.
Monongahela, battle of, i. 92, 93 ; Washington sends his
mother an account of it, i. 25.
Montagu, Admiral, i. 248.
Montgomery, Brig. Gen. Eichard, i. 338 ; succeeds Schuy
ler, i. 379 ; take St. John's and Chamblee, ii.; enters
Montreal, i. 380 ; reaches Pointe aux Trembles, i. 381 ;
attacks Quebec and falls, i. 382 ; sketch of, i. 386-388 ;
his body removed to New York, i. 388 ; inscription on
monument, ii.; and on coffin, ii.; cause of his defeat, i.
405.
Montgomery, Col., i. 153 ; sent against Cherokees, i. 155 ;
at Quebec, i. 386.
Monroe, James, born in Va., i. 12 ; wounded at Trenton,
i. 531 ; minister to France, ii. 566, 577 ; his reception,
ii. 619 ; his course, ii. 632 ; his recall, ii. 633.
Montmorency Eiver, i. 143.
Montreal, Schuyler authorized to take, i. 377.
Morepang, Capt., i. 131.
Moreton's Point, i. 351.
Morgan, Gen. Daniel, birth, i. 497 ; in Braddock's expedi
tion, ib.; at Boston, i. 498 ; taken at Quebec, i. 483, 498 ;
exchanged, ii.; sent to Gates, i. 498 ; at Vanvighton's
Bridge, i. 566 ; at Middlebrook, i. 568 ; at Whitemarsh,
i. 607 ; sent to Schuyler, i. 628 ; at Stillwater, i. 637,
638, n.; at Saratoga, i. 640, ii. 168 ; on the Schuylkill,
i. 670 ; harasses Clinton, ii. 16 ; obtains leave of ab
sence, i. 499 ; made brigadier-general, ii.; commands
light troops, ii. 195 ; commands division, ii. 196 ; takes
Ninety-Six, ii. 197 ; defeats Tarleton at Cowpens, i. 499,
ii. 199-201 ; medal to, ii. 201, n.; masterly retreat, ii.
201, 202 ; suppresses insurrection, ii. 499, 586 ; in Con
gress, ii. 499 ; death, ii.
Morgan, Capt., ii. 58.
Morocco, treaty with, ii. 395 ; Washington's letter to
emperor of, ii. 420.
Morris, Gouverneur, sketch of, ii. 376 ; at Valley Forge,
i. 677, 679 ; drafts the constitution, ii. 376 ; signs it, ii.
363 ; minister to France, ii. 492 ; recalled, ii. 566, 577 ;
his correspondence with Washington, ii. 367, 473, 492,
566.
Morris, Lewis, signer of the Declaration, ii. 376.
Morris, Eobert, sketch of, ii. 188 ; enters Congi-ess, ii.;
Seed's letter to, i. 515 ; sends money to Washington, i.

529 ; establishes a bank, ii. 179, 190, 245 ; his efforts,
ii. 267 ; nominates Washington as president of the con
vention, ii. 349 ; signs constitution, ii. 363 ; commis
sioner to select site of federal city, ii. 29 ; befriends
Barney, ii. 297.
Morris, Boger, aid to Braddock, i. 91 ; wounded at tho
Monongahela, i. 93.
Morris, Col. Boger, i. 475.
Morris (Gov. of Penn.), at Alexandria, i. 87.
Morris, Maj., killed, i. 607.
Morristown, i. 509, 511, 569 ; revolt at, i. 707 ; Washing
ton winters at, ii. 97.
Mouceau, i. 66.
Moultrie, Gen. William, sketch of, ii. 164; his early ser
vices, ii.; erects fort on Sullivan's Island, ii.; defends
it, i. 436, ii. 31, 165, 210 ; receives thanks of Congress,
ii. 31 ; placed on the Continental establishment, ii. 165 ;
defends Beaufort, ii.; made major-general, ii. 166 ; at
Stono, ii.; taken at Charleston, ii.
Mount Holly, English at, i. 511, ii. 15.
Mount Independence, i. 623, 646 ; cleared by Stark, i. 652.
Mount Vernon, why so called, i. 32 ; George Washington
inherits, i. 41 ; returns to, after Braddock's defeat, i.
98 ; life at, i. 189 ; leaves, i. 339 ; English at, ii. 182 ;
Washington returns to, after war, ii. 294 ; life at, ii.
333, 334 ; leaves it to assume Presidency, ii. 378 ; final
return to, ii. 645.
Moustiers, Count de, minister of France, ii. 397 ; seeks to
transact business directly with the President, ii. 398.
Mowat, Capt., sent to destroy Falmouth, i. 397.
Moylan, Col., i. 400, 546.
Muhlenberg, Brig. Gen. Peter, sketch of, ii. 466 ; speaker
of the House of Bepresentatives, ii. 555.
Munford, Bobert, i. 112, n., 118, n.
Murdering Town, i. 58, 59.
Murray, Brig. Gen., i. 142 ; at the battle of the Heights
of Abraham, i. 147 ; left in command, ii.
Murray, Joseph, i. 76.
Murray, Bobert, i. 476.
Murray, W. V., minister at the Hague, ii. 677.
Muse, Adjutant, i. 49.
Musgrave, Lt. Col., i. 592.
Mutiny Act passed, i. 193.
Nancy taken by the Lee, i. 395.
Napoleon, action of, on death of Washington, ii. 689.
Nash, Gen., i. 587 ; killed at Germantown, i. 592.
Navy begun by Washington, i. 395 ; its operations, ii.
Neal, Capt., killed at Princeton, i. 537.
Necker, ii. 53.
Nelson, Gov., leads Virginia militia to Yorktown, ii. 251.
Nelson, Lord, ii. 55.
Neutrality, proclamation of, ii. 522 ; bitterly assailed, ii.;
arrests under, ii. 526 ; their acquittal, ii. 531.
Nevil, Gen., in Whiskey Insurrection, ii. 583.
Newark, i. 360.
Newburgh, Letters, i. 657, ii. 280 ; proceedings of army at,
ii. 277-289 ; peace announced to the army at, ii. 289.

752

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Newcastle, Duke of, i. 662.
New Hampshire sends delegates to New York, i. 75 ; ac
tion against Stamp Act, i. 179 ; approves Massachusetts
circular, i. 195 ; people surprise fort, i. 301 ; sends men
to relief of Washington, i. 401-403 ; applies to Congress
for advice, i. 433; her declaration of independence, i. 462.
New Hampshire grants ; see Vermont, i. 323.
New Jersey sends delegates to General Congress, i. 179 ;
action of, on news of battle of Lexington, i. 818 ; mili
tia of, summoned to defend New York, i. 417 ; sends
delegates to Annapolis, ii. 344.
New London, Arnold's expedition against, ii. 250.
Newport taken by English, i. 504 ; recovered, i. 655 ;
French fleet anchors off, ii. 37 ; Eochambeau arrives at,
ii. 109.
New Providence, expedition against, ii. 55, 60, 296.
New Eochelle, i. 485.
New York (city), Washington at, i. 99 ; Stamp Act riots
iu, i. 177 ; affrays with soldiers in, i. 219 ; forbids tea- to
land, i. 248 ; asks advice of Congress, i. 328 ; proposals
for destruction of, i. 473 ; conflagration of, i. 476 ; suf
ferings of prisoners at, ii. 1 93 ; seat of Government at,
ii. 381 ; Washington's reception at, ii. 380.
New York (State), sends delegates to Albany, i. 75 ;
sends delegates to General Congress, i. 178 ; resists
mutiny act, and is deprived of its legislature, i. 194 ;
does not approve action of Congress, i. 286 ; strength of
loyalists in, ii.; hesitation of, i. 303 ; action of, on news
of Lexington, i. 318 ; Provincial Congress sends com
mittee to meet Washington, i. 360 ; non-committal ad
dress of, ii.; convention passes resolution against tories,
i. 441 ; internal improvements, ii. 317 ; sends delegates
to Annapolis, ii. 344.
Niagara, Prideaux sent against, i. 140 ; taken by Johnson,
i. 141 ; attacked by Indians, i. 165.
Nicholas, Bobert C, i. 308, 340.
Nicholson, Joseph, interpreter, i. 227.
Nicola, Col., urges Washington to seize reins of govern
ment, ii. 273.
Nielson, Col., defeats Skinner, i. 541.
Ninety-Six held by Cruger, ii. 154 ; Greene fails to take,
ii. 221.
Nixon, Gen., i. 642, n.
Noailles, Count de, ii. 59.
Noailles, Viscount de, i. 572, ii. 256.
Noddle's Island, i. 651.
Non-exportation opposed by Washington, i. 256.
Non-importation, i. 180, 195, 197.
Norris, Isaac, i. 76.
North, Lord, Chancellor of the Exchequer under the Duke
of Grafton, i. 217 ; first Lord of the Treasury during the
Be volution, ii.; presents King's message on destruction
of tea, i. 251 ; his scheme of coercion, ii.; his bills of
conciliation, i. 687.
North Carolina, Governor prevents sending delegates to
General Congress, i. 178 ; orders delegates to join in
declaring independence, i. 434 ; N. C. brigade sent to
Charleston, ii. 97 ; N. C. regulators, ii. 139 ; Mecklen

burg declaration, ii.; calls out militia after battle of
Camden, ii. 195 ; refuses to accept constitution, ii. 394 ;
enters the Union, ii. 414 ; cedes territory to the Union,
ii. 437.
Norton, Lt. Col., at Guilford C. H., ii. 206.
Notre Dame, the, ii. 57.
Nova Scotia ceded to England, i. 127.
Obaish Eiver, i. 53.
Oconostotah, Cherokee chief, ii. 162.
Oglethorpe founds Georgia in 1732, i. 10.
O'Hara, Gen., ii. 206 ; surrenders at Yorktown, ii. 257-
Ohio, Virginia offers bounty lands on, i. 62.
Ohio Company, i. 62.
Oliver, stamp-master, i. 177.
Oliver, Ch. Justice, accepts royal salary, i. 235 ; (Lt. Gov )
forced to resign, i. 265.
Oneidas, i. 75.
Onondagas, i. 75 ; their town surprised by Van Schaick
ii. 86.
Orangeburg taken, ii. 221.
Oriskany, battle of, i. 633.
Orme, Capt. Kobert, aid to Braddock, i. 86 ; letters to
Washington, i. 87, 91 ; account of the battle of the
Monongahela, i. 92 ; wounded there, i. 93.
Oswego, i. 633.
Otis, James, notice of, i. 169, n.; Adams' estimate of, i.
170 ; life of, quoted, i. 425.
Ottoways, i. 58.
Paine, Thomas, sketch of, ii. 721; writes " Common Sense,"
i. 433.
Palfrey, Lt. Col., i. 568, n.
Pallas, the, ii. 62.
Palmer, Nathan, hanged as a spy, i. 421.
Paoli Tavern, Grey surprises Wayne at, i. 580 ; his cruel
barbarity, ii. 44.
Paris, treaty of, ii. 307-310.
Parker, Com. Sir Hyde, escorts troops to Savannah, ii. 48.
Parker, Sir Peter, arrives, i. 435 ; repulsed at Fort Moul
trie, i. 436, 437 ; carries Clinton to Newport, i. 504.
Parliament passes Stamp Act, i. 173 ; repeals it, i. 182 ;
passes declaratory act, ii.; imposes duty on tea, paint,
&c, i. 193 ; passes mutiny act, ii.; informs the King of
their support against the colonies, i. 209 ; action in, on
the Boston tea-party, i. 251 ; demands peace, ii. 267.
Paramus, ii. 36 ; Baylor at, ii. 45.
Parsons, Gen., retreats, i. 474 ; a prisoner, i. 555 ; destroys
British stores at Sag Harbor, i. 663 ; reoccupies Peeks-
kill, i. 645 ; one of board in Andre"s case, ii. 123.
Partridge, Oliver, i. 76, n.
Patterson, Gen., at Stony Point, ii. £7 ; on Andrews trial,
ii. 123.
Patterson, William, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Patton, Maj., taken at Camden, ii. 214.
Paulen's Mills, i. 594.
Paulding, John, captures Andre-, i. 114, «.; his reward, i.
119, n.

INDEX.

753

Paulus Hook, i. 699 ; Lee's surprise of, ii. 93
Peace, tidings of, ii. 289.
Pearson, Capt., ii. 62.
Peekskill, stores destroyed at, i. 561, 569, 615, 644.
Pell's Point, i. 485.
Pelham, i. 485.
Pendleton, Edward, delegate to the General Congress, i.
260, 273, 276, 341 ; opposes raising troops, i. 308 ; on
committee, i. 312 ; letter of Washington to, i. 588.
Penn, Mr., presents petition to King, i. 432 ; examined
before House of Lords, i. 433.
Penn, John, i. 76, n.
Pennsylvania, selfishness of, i. 118 ; sends delegates to
General Congress, i. 179 ; ratifies action of Continental
Congress, i. 286 ; riflemen from, join Washington, i.
375 ; revolt of Pennsylvania line, ii. 176 ; sends dele
gates to Annapolis, ii. 344.
Pennsylvania Gazette, i. 77.
Pennsylvania militia, misconduct of,, ii. 12.
Pennytown, English atrocities at, i. 539.
Penobscots, i. 128.
Pepperrell, Wm., takes Louisbourg, i. 107 ; sketch of, i.
126-135.
Percy, Earl, sent to support Smith after affair at Lexing
ton, i. 354, 355 ; at Dorchester, i. 410 ; at Brooklyn, i.
453 ; Mamaroneck, i. 488 ; in attack on Fort Washing
ton, i. 491.
Perkyomen Creek, i. 579.
Peters, Eichard, i. 76, n.; member of board of war, i. 606.
Philadelphia, Washington at (1756), i. 99, 103 ; meeting
of governors at, i. 103 ; action at, on passage of Stamp
Act, i. 178 ; resolutions of inhabitants of, i. 247 ; Con
tinental Congress meets at, i. 273 ; Washington at, i.
508 ; Congress leaves, i. 510 ; Howe enters, i. 582 ; plan
of attack on, i. 604 ; position of the English in, ii. 13 ;
merchants establish a bank to relieve army, ii. 107 ;
Washington's reception at, ii. 379 ; yellow fever in, ii.
536.
Phillips, Maj. Gen., i. 622 ; taken at Saratoga, i. 639, ii.
159 ; exchanged for Lincoln, ii. 159 ; at Portsmouth, i.
705 ; overruns Virginia, ii. 224.
Philips, Capt., i. 570.
Philipsburg, Clinton at, ii. 87, 92.
Phcenix, the, i. 484.
Piankeshaws, i. 80.
Pickens, Maj. Gen. Andrew, sketch of, ii. 226 ; serves
against Cherokees, i. 619, ii. 226 ; takes Augusta, i. 699 ;
defeats Boyd, ii. 226 ; joins Morgan, ii. 197, 227 ; at Cow
pens, ii. 199, 200 ; makes treaty with the Cherokees, ii.
227.
Pickering, Timothy, sketch of, ii. 611 ; member of the
board of war, i. 606 ; at Lexington, ii. 611 ; quarter
master-general, ii.; secretary of war, ii. 598 ; secretary
of State, ii. 609, 611 ; in Congress, ii.
Pigot, Gen., commands English at Bunker's Hill, i.
350-352 ; defends Newport against Sullivan, ii. 38 ;
pursues and engages him, ii. 41.
Pigot, the, ii. 57.

Pinckney, Gen. C. O, sketch of, ii. 613 ; aid to Washing
ton, ii.; taken at Charleston, ii.; signs constitution, ii.
350, 363 ; minister to France, ii. 613, 633 ; declines
posts of honor, ii. 609, 613.
Pinckney, O, signs constitution, ii. 350, 363.
Pinckney, Thomas, sketch of, ii. 506 ; minister to Eng
land, ii. 492 ; to Spain, ii. 506 ; made major-general,
ii.; letter of Washington to, ii. 628 ; candidate for the
Vice-Presidency, ii. 636 ; vote for, ii. 641 ; minister to
France, ii. 667 ; expelled, ii. 668.
Piney Creek, i. 60.
Pipe Creek, i. 229.
Pitcairn, Maj., sent to Concord, i. 303.
Pitkin, William, i. 761, n.
Pitt, William, his plan of war, i. 106 ; just provision as to
rank, i. 107, n.; remark to Franklin, i. 151 ; denies right
to tax colonies, i. 181 ; speech against colonies, i. 191 ;
see Chatham.
Pittsburg, Washington selects site of, for fort, i. 52 ; occu
pied by Ohio Company, i. 62 ; taken by Contrecoeur, i.
63 ; called Fort Duquesne, ii.; occupied by Forbes and
called Fort Pitt, i. 121 ; first called Pittsburg, i. 226.
Plan for settling two western colonies, i. 82.
Plunket, Capt., defeated, ii. 79.
Pohick, Episcopal Church at, i. 161.
Point Judith, i. 654, ii. 39.
Point Levi, i. 43, 381.
Pointe aux Trembles, Arnold and Montgomery meet at, i.
381.
Poland, dissensions and fall of, i. 11 ; affairs in, ii. 228.
Political parties, ii. 400, 401.
Polly, the, ii. 57.
Pomeroy, Col. Seth, general officer of minute-men, i. 299 ;
made brigadier-general, i. 338 ; at Bunker's Hill, i. 351.
Pompton Plains, i. 569, 570, ii. 105.
Poor, Gen., i. 600 ; at Saratoga, i. 639 ; Stark's complaint
to, i. 652 ; at Monmouth, ii. 20.
Porterfield, Lt. Col., at Quebec, i. 498; at Clermont, ii.
142 ; at Camden, i. 701, ii. 143.
Portland, Duke of, moves to acknowledge American in
dependence, i. 660.
Portland (see Falmouth), i. 396.
Port Boyal captured, i. 48.
Porto Bello taken, i. 11.
Portsmouth, fort surprised at, i. 301 .
Posey, Maj., at Wyoming, ii. 66.
Post Office established, i. 331 ; Franklin made postmas
ter, ii.
Post St. Vincent, i. 232.
Potomac, company for improving navigation of, ii. 320 ;
Washington's interest in, ti.; he declines shares, ii. 322;
vests them in an academy, ii. 322.
Potter, Gen., sent to scour country, i. 595 ; routed, i. 609 ;
relieved by Lacey, ii. 26.
Potter, Col., killed at Princeton, i. 645.
Powell, Gen., with Burgoyne, i. 622.
Powers, Capt., i. 649.
Powles Hook, action at, i. 699, ii. 93.

754

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Pownall, Gov., i. 223 ; his opinion of the colonists, i. 217 ;
opposes North, i. 252.
Prayer, question of, in the Continental Congress, i. 276.
Prebble, Jedediah, appointed general officer of Massachu
setts, i. 299.
Prescott, Gen. William, sketch of, i. 424 ; at Cape Breton,
ii.; at Lexington, ii.; throws up entrenchments on
Breed's Hill, i. 350,424,656; commands at battle of
Bunker's Hill, i. 424 ; at Burgoyne's surrender, i. 425.
Prescott, Gen. (Eng.), surrenders to Easton, i. 380 ; put in
close confinement, i. 552 ; commands English troops in
Bhode Island, i. 570 ; taken prisoner, ii.
President of the United States, title of, ii. 393, n.
Presidents of the Continental Congress, Peyton Bandolph,
i. 274, 328 ; John Hancock, i. 329 ; Henry Laurens, i.
674, n.; Thomas Mifflin, ii. 294.
Presqu'ile, i. 141 ; settlement at, offensive to Six Nations,
ii. 582.
Preston, Capt., fires on people, i. 220 ; arrested, i. 221 ;
tried, i. 222.
Prevost, Gen., invades Georgia, i. 707, ii. 49 ; defeats
Americans at Savannah, i. 707, ii. 158 ; takes command,
ii. 50 ; repulses D'Estaing and Lincoln, ii. 96 ; sum
moned to Charleston, ii. 129.
Price, Maj., ii. 581.
Prideaux, Gen., sent against Niagara, i. 140 ; killed, i. 141.
Prince of Nassau, ii. 63.
Princeton, English at, i. 511 ; Putnam at, i. 540 ; battle
of, i. 535, 545.
Pringle, Capt., commands flotilla, i. 495.
Province Island, i. 595, 602.
Provincial Congress of Massachusetts, i. 299.
Pulaski, Gen. Count, sketch of, ii. 172 ; at the Brandy
wine, i. 576 ; at Trenton, i. 671 ; surprised, ii. 46 ; mor
tally wounded at Savannah, ii. 96, 158, 173.
Putnam, Gen. Israel, sketch of, i. 419-423 ; serves in
French war, i. 420 ; in Pontiac's war, i. 167 ; leads
militia to Boston, i. 318 ; made major-general, i. 338,
422 ; at Bunker's Hill, i. 351 ; commands centre, i. 369 ;
fortifies Cobble Hill, i. 399 ; commands at New York, i.
418, 438 ; fortifies Brooklyn Heights, i. 438 ; defeated
on Long Island, i. 420, 452 ; abandons New York, i.
474 ; at Whiteplains, i. 488 ; at Princeton, i. 540 ; sends
detachment to Washington, i. 600 ; at Peekskill, i. 643 ;
retreat to Fishkill, i. 645 ; ordered to join Washington,
i. 647 ; case of Palmer, i. 421 ; selects West Point, ii.;
sent there, ii. 44 ; at Newburgh meeting, ii. 286.
Pyle, Col., i. 699.
Quakers, execution of two, ii. 15.
Quebec, Wolfe sent against, i. 140 ; position of, i. 142 ;
surrender of, i. 147 ; attempt to recover, i. 148 ; Arnold
at, i. 381 ; Montgomery defeated at, i. 382 ; siege of, i.
382, 383.
Quebec Act, i. 149, 330.
Queen Anne's War, i. 48.
Quincy, Josiah, jr., i. 249 ; sketch of, i. 267.
Quinton, Bridge, Americans defeated at, ii. 10.

Eacoon Creek, i. 227.
Eadnor, Earl of, correspondence with Washington, ii. 650.
Eahl, Col., at Whiteplains, i. 487 ; surprised and killed,
i. 531, 545.
Baleigh, the, ii. 59.
Ealeigh Tavern, i. 210 ; legislature at, i. 255.
Bamsay, Lt. Col., ii. 19.
Bandolph, Edmund, attorney-general, ii. 405; urges Wash
ington to serve a second term, ii. 510 ; Secretary of State,
ii. 558 ; Washington's letters on Jay's treaty, ii. 601 ;
misconduct and resignation, ii. 608 ; hostility to Wash
ington, ii. 609.
Bandolph, Col. Peter, i. 187.
Bandolph, Peyton, i. 103, 187 ; early life, i. 340 ; signs
Virginia Association, i. 210, 340 ; chairman of conven
tion, i. 340 ; delegate to Congress, i. 260, 341 ; delegate
to, and first President of the Continental Congress, i.
278, 324, 341 ; in the Virginia Assembly, i. 341 ; again
in Congress, i. 342 ; death, ii.; sketch of, i. 340-342.
Bandolph, the, ii. 47, 56.
Banger, the, i. 436.
Bank, injustice to colonial officers in point of, i. 74, 99.
Bawdon, Lord, placed on the frontier of North Carolina,
ii. 139 ; concentrates at Camden, ii. 143 ; at the battle
of Camden, ii. 145 ; his inhumanity, ii. 152, n.; repulses
Greene, ii. 220 ; reinforced by Watson, ii.; relieves
Ninety-Six, ii. 221 ; returns to England, ii. 222.
Bawlings, Col., at Fort Washington, i. 491 ; ill-treated.
i. 554.
Eaystown, i. 112.
Eead, George, signs constitution, ii. 363.
Bed Bank, fort at, i. 590 ; see Fort Mercer.
Bedstone Creek, i. 64.
Eeed, Gen., Washington's secretary, i. 369 ; sent to gov
ernment of New Jersey, i. 505 ; sketch of, i. 512 ; cor
respondence with Lord Dartmouth, i. 513 ; aid to
Washington, i. 369, 375, 514 ; rejoins army, i. 515 ;
Howe's attempt, ii.; his difficulty with Washington, i.
516 ; sent to Pennsylvania for aid, ii.; retires from the
army, i. 517 ; attempt to bribe, i. 518, 692, n.; letter to
Washington, i. 529; joins army asa volunteer, i. 517; his
services, ii.; his administration as President of Penn
sylvania, i. 519 ; brings charges against Arnold, ii. 112
Eeed, Mrs., patriotism of, ii. 107.
Eeedy Island, ii. 10.
Eegulators, ii. 139.
Eeitzimer, Col., at Whiteplains, i. 488.
Eeparti, M., i. 56.
Eesolute, the, ii. 53.
Eevere, Col., sent by Warren to Concord, i. 355.
Beynolds, Col. Thomas, ii. 27.
Bhode Island sends delegates to Albany, i. 75 ; to Gen
eral Congress, i. 178 ; removes cannon from forts, i.
300 ; troops of, i. 364 ; refuses to accept constitution,
ii. 394 ; enters Union, ii. 437.
Eichmond, Duke of, opposes North, i. 252 ; moves to con
sider petition to King, i. 433 ; reply to Chatham, i. 661.
Eichmond, taken by Arnold, ii. 224 ; saved by Lafayette, ti

INDEX.

755

Eiddock, Lemuel, i. 312.
Eidgefield, Wooster killed at, i. 562 ; burnt, i. 663.
Biedesel, Baroness, extract from memoir, i. 664.
Eiedesel, Gen., i. 622 ; at_Ticonderoga, i. 624 ; pursues St.
Clair, i. 625 ; at Saratoga, i. 639.
Eiflemen, description of, i. 375.
Bobertson, Gen., arrives with reinforcements from Eng
land, i. 615 ; sent to Staten Island, ii. 179.
Eobinson, Col., Arnold's treasonable correspondence with,
ii. 113.
Eobinson, Capt. Isaiah, naval services of, ii. 297.
Eobinson, John, i. 105, 184.
Bochambeau, Gen. Count, arrives at Newport, i; 655, ii.
109, 244 ; meets Washington at Hartford, ii. 110, 244 ;
reinforced, ii. 245 ; marches to the Hudson, ii.; joins
Washington, ii. 246 ; at Yorktown, ii. 251 ; returns to
Fiance, ii. 279.
Bockingham, Marquis of, opposes North, i. 252, 560.
Bocky Mount, action at, ii. 162.
Eodney, Sir George, ii. 249.
Eodney, Admiral, defeats and takes De Grasse, ii. 277.
Boebuck, the, i. 484.
Eogers, Bobert, Stark serves under, i. 649 ; raises a tory
regiment, i. 484 ; defeated at Mamaroneck, i. 486.
Eoss, Maj., ii. 256.
Botch, importer of tea, i. 248 ; ordered to send it hack,
i. 249.
Eoutledge, E., delegate to Congress from S. C, i. 276 ;
deemed by Henry the most eloquent man in Congress,
i. 284 ; sent to Howe, i. 459 ; Gov. of S. C, ii. 131.
Eoxbury, i. 363.
Boxbury Neck fortified by Gage, i. 265.
Boyal Duke, the, ii. 75.
Eugely, Col., taken, ii. 196.
Bugely's mills, ii. 142-144.
Bussel, Col., i. 601.
Eutherferd, Gen., taken at Camden, ii. 147.
Butledge, John, in convention, ii. 350 ; signs constitution,
ii. 363 ; made Judge of the Supreme Court, ii. 406.
Eyswick, treaty of, i. 48.
Sag Harbor, i. 563.
Salem, General Court held at, i. 261 ; addresses Gage, i.
262 ; British officials fly from, i. 265 ; attempt to seize
cannon at, i. 302.
Salisbury, Gates retreats to, ii. 170.
Saltonstall, Com., sent against Penobscot, ii. 93.
Sandusky, French fort to be seized, i. 85.
Sandy Hook, Clinton at, ii. 16, 23.
Savage, Samuel P., i. 249.
Savage paints portrait of Washington, ii. 421.
Savannah, Howe defeated at, i. 707, ii. 48, 158 ; D'Estaing
and Lincoln repulsed at, ii. 96, 127, 158, 173.
St. Augustine, American prisoners sent to, ii. 153.
St. Charles Biver, i. 143.
St. Clair, Sir John, wounded at the Monongahela, i. 93.
St. Clair, Brig. Gen. Arthur, at Trenton, i. 544, 687 ; at
Ticonderoga, i. 621, ii. 120 ; one of board in Andre" s

case, ii. 123 ; defeated by Miamis, ii. 215, 479, 481 ;
solicits court-martial, ii. 481 ; Washington's censure of,
ii. 482-484.
St. Frai^ois Indians, i. 649.
St. Germain, Count, i. 702.
St. James' Island, ii. 129.
St. Johns, Allen and Arnold attempt to take, i. 324;
Schuyler authorized to take, i. 377 ; taken, i. 379 ;
English retire to, i. 646.
St. John's Island, ii. 129.
St. Kitts resists Stamp Act, i. 178.
St. Leger, Col., sent against Fort Schuyler, i. 622, ii-
121 ; invests it, i. 633 ; defeats Herkimer, ii.; retreats,
i. 635.
St. Lucia taken by English, ii. 95, 127.
St. Simon, Duke de, lands, ii. 249 ; re-embarks, ii. 260.
St. Vincent's taken by D'Estaing, ii. 95.
Schanck, Lieut., i. 494.
Schuyler, John, ii. 120.
Schuyler, Col. Peter, i. 421, ii. 120.
Schuyler, Gen. Philip, sketch of, i. 359, ii. 120, ra.; in
French war, ii. 120 ; major-general, i. 338 ; at Boston,
i. 358 ; at New York, i. 360 ; authorized to attack
Montreal, i. 377 ; attacks St. Johns, i. 379 ; illness of, i.
379, ii. 120 ; defence of Lake Champlain, i. 494, 620, ii.
120 ; misjudged, i. 621 ; harasses Burgoyne, i. 627, ii
121 ; removed, i. 636, ii. 122, 167 ; protest, i. 636 ; re
ception of Baroness Eiedesel, i. 667 ; plans expedition
against Onondaga, ii. 86 ; solicits West Point for Ar
nold, ii. 113 ; in Congress, ii. 123 ; commissioner to
select site of Federal city, ii. 29.
Scioto, colony on, proposed, i. 85.
Scotch Plains, i. 569, 587.
Scott, Gen., advises attack on Philadelphia, i. 603 ; re
treats at Monmouth, ii. 18 ; charges against Lee, ii.
22 ; reinforces Wayne, ii. 580 ; at Battle of Au Glaize,
ii. 581.
Seconset Eiver, ii. 57.
Sedgwick moves an embargo, ii. 560.
Segur, Count, i. 572, ii. 53.
Selkirk, Earl of, ii. 60.
Senecas, i. 75 ; destroy English convoy, i. 167.
Senezergues falls on the Heights of Abraham, i. 147.
Serapis, the, ii. 62.
Seven Years' War, i. 63.
Sevier, Col., pursues and defeats Ferguson, ii. 154, 155.
Sewickly Creek, i. 225.
Shannoah Town, i. 54.
Shannopin's Town, i. 58, 60.
Sharpe, Gen. (Gov. of Md.), i. 73 ; at Alexandria, i. 87.
Shawnee Eiver, lands on, i. 232.
Shawuees, revolt of, i. 165.
Shay, Daniel, heads rebellion, ii. 160, 347, ™.
Sheldon, Maj., i. 506.
Shelburne, Lord, i. 191, 697.
Shelby, Col., pursues and defeats Ferguson, ii. 154, 155.
Shenandoah, i. 35.
Shepherd, Gen., represses Shay's rebellion, ii. 160.

756

LLFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Sherburne, Maj., defeated at the Cedars, i. 384 ; killed at
Germantown, i. 594.
Sherburne H, i. 76, n.
Sherman, Eoger, sketch of, ii. 541 ; his public services, ii.
542 ; in first Congress of 1774, ii.; signs the Declaration
of Independence, ii. 541 ; signs constitution, ii. 363 ;
his death, ii. 542.
Shingiss, King of the Delawares, meets Washington, i. 53.
Shirley (Gov. of Mass.), at Alexandria, i. 87 ; decides the
Dagworthy case, i. 99 ; projects conquest of Louisburg,
i. 128.
Shirley, William, secretary to Braddock, i. 89 ; his esti
mate of the latter, ii.; killed at Monongahela, i. 93.
Shoreham, i. 323.
Short, William, resident at the Hague, ii. 492.
Short Hills, i. 655 ; Washington at, ii. 104.
Short hints for uniting the northern colonies, i. 82.
Shuldham, Admiral, i. 428.
Shurtees Creek, i. 227.
Silliman, Gen., at Danbury, i. 562.
Simcoe, Maj., ii. 10.
Simcoe, Col., i. 705 ; in Virginia, ii. 224.
Singleton, Capt., at Guilford C. H, ii. 205.
Six Nations, account of, i. 75 ; join English, i. 618 ; rav
age Wyoming, ii. 65 ; Cherry Valley, ii. 76 ; punished
by Sullivan and Clinton, i. 618, ii. 94.
Skeene, Col., i. 626.
Skenesborough, i. 323.
Skenesborough Falls, naval action at, i. 625 ; Col. Wood
bury at, i. 637, ii. 121, 157.
Skinner, Cortlandt, defeated, i. 641 ; Dickinson's attack
on, ii. 28.
Skippaek Creek, i. 591, 592.
Slavery first petition to Congress, ii. 436.
Small, Maj., friend of Putnam, i. 355 ; attempt to save
Warren, i. 356.
Smallwood, Gen. William, sketch of, i. 687 ; on Long
Island, i. 450, 587 ; taken, i. 456 ; wounded at White
Plains, i. 488 ; after battle of Brandywine, i. 579 ; at
Germantown, i. 587 ; at Wilmington, i. 587, 676 ; at
Camden, i. 701 ; at Charlotte, ii. 194 ; on the Yadkin
and Catawba, ii. 195.
Smith, Brig. Gen. Samuel, sketch of, i. 614 ; Lt. Col. at
Brandywine, ii.; defends Fort Mifflin, i. 596, 614;
thanked by Congress, i. 598; wounded in second at
tack, i. 601 ; defends Baltimore, i. 596, n., 614.
Smith, Lt. Col., sent to Concord, i. 303 ; engages Ameri
cans at Lexington, i. 304 ; retreats to Boston, i. 305 ;
his loss, ii.
Smith, Maj., i. 541.
Smith, Hon. William, attempts to better condition of
American prisoners, i. 555.
Smith, William, i. 76, ra.
Solano, Admiral, ii. 277.
Solebay, the, i. 436.
Somerset Court House, battle at, i. 539, 566.
Sons of Liberty, i. 180, 196.
Sourland Hills, i. 567.

South Amboy, ii. 16.
South Carolina sends aid to Washington, i. 69 ; sends
delegates to General Congress, i. 178 ; adopts articles
of association, i. 200 ; sympathy with Boston, i. 260 ;
delegates to Congress, ii.; reduced by Clinton and Corn
wallis, ii. 137.
Spaight, E. D., signs constitution, ii. 363.
Spain refuses free navigation of the Mississippi, ii. 394 ;
message on affairs of, ii. 556 ; treaty with, ii. 610, 626.
Spaulding, Capt., sent to Wyoming, ii. 65, 76, 78.
Specht, Gen., i. 622.
Spencer, Joseph, made brigadier-general, i. 338 ; at Dor
Chester, i. 408.
Sphinx, the, i. 436.
Spikeman, Capt., killed, i. 650.
Spottiswoode, Col., Gov. of Va., projects conquest of Can
ada, i. 49.
Spottswood, Col. Alexander, his American regiment at
Carthagena, i. 26.
Springfield, N. J., ii. 103 ; defended by Maxwell, ii. 104 ;
by Greene, ii. 105 ; burnt by Clinton, ii.
Springfield, i. 655.
Stael, Mad. de, ii. 53.
Stamp Act introduced by Grenville, i. 173 ; resolutions
against, in Virginia legislature, i. 174 ; in other colo
nies, i. 176 ; mobs against, i. 177 ; effect of resistance
to, in England, i. 181 ; repealed, i. 182.
Stanwix, Col., commander-in-chief of southern and mid
dle provinces, i. 104 ; brigadier-general, i. 105.
Stark, Gen. John, sketch of, i. 649-656 ; taken by Indians,
i. 649 ; acts as guide to colonial troops, ii.; captain
under Eogers, ii.; his famous retreat, i. 650 ; with
Howe at Ticonderoga, i. 651 ; joins American army, ii.;
at Bunker's Hill, i. 351, 652 ; with army in Canada, i.
652 ; at Mount Independence and Trenton, ii.; being
overlooked by Congress, he resigns, i. 630, 652 ; takes
command of militia, i. 631, 653 ; defeats Baum at Ben
nington, ii.; joins Gates, i. 654 ; becomes commander
of northern army and blockades Newport, i. 655 ; one
of board in Andre's case, ii. 123.
Stark, Col., at Trenton, i. 544.
Stedman, Col., criticism on Howe, i. 582.
Stephen, Gen., at Germantown, i. 592 ; dismissed for
drunkenness, i. 606.
Stephen, Capt., i. 62.
Steuben, Maj. Gen. Baron, sketch of, i. 701 ; services in
Europe, i. 702 ; arrives at Valley Forge, i. 683, 702 ;
his services as inspector-general, i. 703 ; his various
services, i. 704 ; defence of Petersburg, i. 705 ; Wash
ington's letter to, i. 706 ; one of board in Andre" s case,
ii. 115, 123.
Stevens, Gen. Edward, sketch of, ii. 160, 162 ; his conduct
at Great Bridge, Brandywine, Camden, and Guilford, ii.
142, 160, 205.
Steward, Henry, i. 52.
Stewart, Gen. Walter, ii. 441.
Stewart, Col., ii. .19.
Stewart, Capt., i. 96, 99, ii 77.

INDEX.

757

Stirling, Lord (Gen. William Alexander), sketch of, i.
686 ; taken at battle of Long Island, i. 454, 456, 586 ;
exchanged, i. 483 ; at Coryell's Ferry, i. 608 ; services
in Jersey, i. 544, 568 ; engages Cornwallis at Metuckin,
i. 569 ; at Germantown, i. 587, 592 ; advises attack on
Philadelphia, i. 603 ; at Monmouth, i. 687, ii. 19 ;
makes an incursion into Staten Island, ii. 101 ; one of
board in Andre" s case, ii. 123.
Stirling, Lt. Col., i. 491 ; takes Billingsport, i. 592.
Stirling, Capt., ii. 54.
Stockwell, Lieut., i. 634.
Stono, action at, ii. 208.
Stony Point, taken, i. 707 ; description of, ii. 89 ; expedi
tion against, ii. 86 ; taken and fortified by English, ii.
87 ; retaken by Wayne, ii. 90 ; abandoned by Wash
ington, ii. 92 ; reoccupied by Clinton, ii. 93 ; abandoned
by him, ii. 95.
Stony Eun, i. 581.
Stroudsburg, ii. 78.
Stuart excites Indians, i. 437.
Stuart, Col., succeeds Eawdon, ii. 222 ; engages Greene at
Eutaw Springs, ii.
Suffolk County, delegates of, memorialize Congress, i. 265.
Sugar, tax on, in 1733, i. 10.
Sugar Hill fortified by Burgoyne, i. 623.
Sullivan, Maj. Gen. John, sketch of, i. 521 ; member of
first Congress, ii.; brigadier-general, i. 338 ; succeeds
Thomas in Canada, i. 384 ; attempts Three Eivers, ti.;
retreats, i. 385 ; at Dorchester, i. 410 ; Brooklyn, i. 521 ;
reinforced, i. 453 ; defeated and taken, i. 456, 521, 587;
sent with proposals, i. 459 ; exchanged, i. 510 ; at
Princeton, i. 567 ; at Middlebrook, i. 568 ; at Peekskill,
i. 570 ; on Staten Island, i. 522, 587 ; at Brandywine, i.
522 ; at Germantown, i. 522, 592 ; letter to President
of New Hampshire, i. 594 ; Newport, i. 522, ii. 37 ; joins
Greene, ii. 38 ; besieges Newport, ii.; abandoned by
D'Estaing, ii. 40 ; raises siege and repulses Pigot, ii. 41 ;
against Six Nations, i. 522, 618, ii. 94 ; defeats them at
Chemung, ii. 94 ; life after the war, i. 522, 523.
Sullivan, Gen. William, description of Washington, ii. 679.
Sullivan's Island, i. 436, ii. 31.
Sumter, Col., sketch of, ii. 162 ; serves in Indian wars,ii.;
in Continental army, ii.; his guerilla warfare, ii. 141,
162 ; at Catawba, Eocky Mount, Hanging Eock, ii. 162 ;
obtains reinforcement from Gates, ii. 143, 162 ; reduces
fort on the Wateree, ii. 146, 163 ; surprised by Tarleton,
ii. 147, 150; raises a new troop, ii. 150, 163 ; defeats
Wemys and Tarleton, ii. 163, 197; wounded, ii.;
thanked by Congress, ii.; takes Fort Watson, ii. 220.
Sunbury surrenders, ii. 49 ; Americans at, ii. 97.
Surprise, the, ii. 69.
Sutherland, Maj., ii. 94.
Sweed's Ford, i. 581.
Syren, the, i. 436.
Talbot, Lt. Col., takes the Pigot, ii. 47.
Talleyrand's treatment of American envoys, ii. 699.
Tanacharison (Half-King), joins Washington, i. 64.
Vol. IL— 96

Tappan, Col. Baylor surprised at, ii. 45.
Tarleton, Lt. Col., i. 699 ; repulsed by Lt. Col. Washing
ton, ii. 130 ; surprises Huger, ii. 132 ; surprises White,
ii. 133 ; surprises Buford, ii. 136 ; his cruelty, ii.; sur
prises Sumter, ii. 146, 147 ; repulsed by him, ii. 197 ;
pursues Morgan, ii. 198 ; defeated at Cowpens, ii. 199-
201 ; in Virginia, ii. 224 ; at Gloucester Point, ii. 251.
"Tarleton's Quarter," ii. 136.
Tarrant's Tavern, action at, ii. 203.
Tarrytown, i. 615.
Tartar, the, i. 484.
Tasker, Benjamin, i. 76.
Tea forbidden to land at Boston, i. 248 ; destroyed, i. 250.
Tennessee organized as a territory, ii. 437 ; sends Andrew
Jackson to Congress, ii. 638.
Territory of the United States, south of the Ohio, organ
ized, ii. 437.
Thatcher, Dr., cited, i. 361, n., 375, 703.
Thayer, Maj., i. 601.
Thomas, Maj. Gen., sent to Quebec, i. 383 ; begins retreat,
ii.; dies, i. 384.
Thomas, Gen. John, i. 300 ; chosen Lieut. Gen. of Mass.,
i. 317 ; made Brig. Gen. by Congress, i. 338 ; action at
Brown's Houses, i. 363 ; at Dorchester, i. 409.
Thomaston, i. 549.
Thompson, Gen., defeated at Three Bivers, i. 385.
Thompson, Col., repulses English, i. 399, 436 ; defeated,
ii. 101.
Thomson, Charles, Secretary of the Continental Congress,
i. 274, 328, 341.
Thornton signs Declaration of Independence, i. 134.
Three Islands, ii. 65.
Three Mile Eun, action at, i. 607.
Three Eivers, rendezvous of the British in Canada, i. 384.
Thunder, the, i. 495.
Thunder Bomb, the, i. 436.
Ticonderoga, description of, i. 622 ; action near, i. 650 ;
English under Abercrombie defeated at, i. 109, 651, ii.
120 ; abandoned by Bourlamarque, i. 140 ; taken by
Allen and Arnold, i. 323 ; Allen's account of capture,
ii. 191 ; Schuyler at, i. 376, ii. 120 ; held by Americans,
i. 493 ; threatened by Burgoyne, i. 569 ; abandoned by
St. Clair, i. 624, ii. 123 ; evacuated by English, i. 646.
Tioga, fort at, suggested, i. 85 ; English at, ii. 65.
Tirondequat, fort at, suggested, i. 85.
Tiverton, i. 38.
Tobago, ii. 60.
Todd, Gen., ii. 581.
Townshend, Charles, i. 191 ; introduces bill taxing tea,
&c, i. 193.
Townshend, Brig. Gen., i. 142 ; assumes command, i. 147.
Treat, Capt., killed, i. 601.
Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, i. 49 ; of Fontainebleau, i. 164 ;
of Paris, ii. 279, 307 ; of Eyswick, i. 48 ; of Utrecht, ii.
Trent, Capt., i. 62.
Trenton, Washington at, i. 506, ii. 379 ; English at, i. 511 ;
battle of, i. 531.
Trenton, decree of, ii. 79.

758

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Treposa, the, ii. 59.
Triplet, Maj., ii. 196 ; at Cowpens, ii. 199, 200.
Trough, the, i. 37.
Truman, Maj., murder of, ii. 492.
Trumbull, Joseph, on Board of War, i. 606 ; Governor of
Connecticut, ii. 568.
Trumbui', Col., recommended as commissary-general, i.
365 ; declines, i. 672 ; Washington's letter to, in 1788,
ii. 353.
Trumbull, Col. John, sketch of, ii. 568 ; made aid to
Washington, ii. 570 ; leaves the army, ii. 571 ; arrested
in London, ii. 572 ; his paintings, i. 656, ii. 573.
Truxton, Com. Thomas, sketch of, ii. 723 ; early services,
ii.; takes L'Insurgente, ii. 677, 723 ; defeats La Ven
geance, ii.; appointed to command expedition against
Tripoli, ii. 723.
Trydruffin, i. 579.
Tryon, Maj. Gen., Gov. of New York, i. 418 ; of North
Carolina, ii. 139 ; endeavors to save Palmer, i. 420 ; at
New York, i. 438, 476 ; attempts to cut off Washington,
i. 441 ; joins Howe, i. 442 ; raises troops, i. 561 ; at
Danbury, i. 562 ; at Connecticut Farms, ii. 103.
Turtle Creek, i. 52 ; battle at, i. 165 ; Washington at, i.
225.
Tuscaroras emigrate from North Carolina, i. 75.
Twightwees complain of Ohio Company, i. 80 ; see Mi
amis.
Tybee, ii. 48.
United States, name adopted, i. 556.
Upper Coos, French fort on, i. 649.
Utrecht, peace of, i. 48.
Utrecht (L. I.), i. 453.
Valentine's Hill, i. 485 ; Washington at, ii. 246.
Valicour, i. 495.
Valley Forge, Washington's winter-quarters at, i. 608 ;
Stedman's account of, i. 608-612.
Van Braam, Jacob, Washington's fencing-master, i. 49 ;
accompanies him to the Ohio as interpreter, i. 52 ; left
at Venango, i. 57 ; sent to treat with French, i. 70 ; de
ceived or deceives, ii.; obtains bounty land, i. 225.
Van Schaick, Col., destroys Onondaga Castle, ii. 86;
thanked by Congress, ii.
Vanvighton's Bridge, i. 566.
Van Wart, Isaac, captor of Andre-, i. 114, ra., 119, n.
Varnum, Gen. James M., sketch of, ii. 29 ; appointed
Brig. Gen., ii.; sent to Woodbury, i. 598 ; defends Fort
Mifflin, i. 600 ; resigns, ii. 30 ; subsequent services, ii.
Vaudreuil, Marquis de, i. 148 ; capitulates, i. 149.
Vaughan, Maj. Gen., drives Americans over Hackensack,
i. 505 ; at Peekskill, i. 645 ; takes Fort Fayette, ii. 87.
Vaughan, Col., taken at Camden, ii. 214.
Vaughn, Col., at Louisbourg, i. 131.
Venango, i. 55, 57, 90.
Vengeance, the, taken, ii. 677.
Vergennes, Count de, i. 467, ii. 52, 53; intercedes for
Asgill, ii. 272.

Vermont, formerly New Hampshire Grants, i. 322 ; Green
Mountain Boys of, i. 323 ; claims to be a separate State,
ii. 183 ; Allen's part in the difficulty, ii. 191 ; admitted
into the Union, ii. 461.
Vernon, Admiral, takes Porto Bello, i. 11 ; Lawrence
Washington serves under him, i. 26, 32 ; Mount Ver
non named after him, i. 32.
Verplanck's Point, i. 644 ; English at, ii. 86 ; (see Fort
Fayette.)
Veto, Washington's first, ii. 477.
Vigilant, the, i. 601.
Villiers, M. de, compels Washington to capitulate, i. 70.
Vincennes, surrender of, ii. 67.
Vincent, Capt., ii. 58.
Viomenil, Baron, carries redoubt, ii. 253, 254.
Virginia, Mother of Presidents, i. 12 ; divided into mili
tary districts, i. 49 ; action of, on Washington's return
from the Ohio, i. 61 ; offers bounty lands, i. 62 ; sends
no delegates to Albany, i. 75 ; grants land to survivors
of the battle of the Monongahela, i. 98 ; Indian ravages,
i. 99, 100 ; tribute of Speaker to Washington, i. 102 ;
fortifies the frontier, i. 103 ; Gov. of, at Philadelphia,
ii.; her resolutions against Stamp Act, i. 174 ; Gov. of,
prevents sending delegates to General Congress, i. 178 ;
Assembly passes resolutions denying Parliament's right
to tax, i. 210 ; dissolved, ji.; action of House on Boston
port bill, i. 255 ; dissolved by Dunmore, ii.; Legislature
forms a Vigilance Committee, ii.; Convention at Wil
liamsburg, i. 257 ; its resolutions, i. 267, 340 ; sends
delegates to the General Congress, i. 260, 341 ; instruc
tions to them, i. 288 ; Convention meets again, i. 306 ;
action of, j. 307-312 ; resolves to raise troops, i. 312 ;
Dunmore seizes powder, i. 319, 341 ; last meeting of
House, ii.; Governor retires, i. 320 ; and begins war, ii.;
actions in, i. 321 ; Bifles from, join Washington, i. 375 ;
instructs delegates to propose independence, i. 434 ;
militia take posts on the Mississippi, ii. 66 ; frontiers
ravaged by Indians, ii.; Virginia line sent to Charleston,
ii. 98 ; operations in, ii. 224 ; undertakes internal im
provements, ii. 320 ; bestows shares in the companies
on Washington, ii. 321 ; his action in relation thereto,
ti.; sends delegates to Annapolis, ii. 344.
Vulture, the, i. 114.
Wabash, fort at the mouth of, i. 85
Wadsworth, Col. Jeremiah, sketch of, ii. 124 ; commissary-
general, ii. 37.
Waldo, Gen., i. 549.
Walker, Tim., i. 462.
Wallabout Bay, i. 452.
Walpole, Horace, i. 659, 661.
Walpole, Sir E., his excise scheme, i. 11, 659, 661.
War of the Polish succession, i. 11.
Ward, Gen. Artemas, commander of minute-men of Mass.,
i. 299 ; chosen commander-in-chief, i. 317 ; appointed
major-general by Congress, i. 338 ; ordered to fortify Dor
chester Neck, i. 349 ; appointed by Washington to com
mand right wing, i. 369 ; opposes attack on Boston, i. 408

INDEX.

759

Ward, Ensign, i. 63.
Warner, Seth, i. 323 ; at Hubbardton, i. 625 ; in Vermont,
i. 627 ; at Bennington, i. 630, 631, 653 ; at Ticondero
ga, ii. 191.
Warren, James, i. 405.
Warren, Gen. Joseph, Pres. of Prov. Congress of Mass., i.
351, n.; major-general, i. 351 ; killed at Bunker's Hill,
i. 353 ; early life, i. 354 ; patriotism, i. 355 ; gives in
formation of attack on Concord, ii.; Major Small's at
tempt to save, i. 356 ; honors to, i. 356, 357 ; Congress
orders monument to, i. 561.
Warren, Sir Peter, i. 128 ; at Louisbourg, i. 131.
Warren Tavern, i. 579.
Warren, the, taken, ii. 93.
Warwick Furnace, i. 579.
Washington, Augustine, father of George, i. 13 ; care of
son's education, i. 18 ; death, ii.; his character, i. 19.
Washington, Augustine, IL, brother of George, i. 13.
Washington, Betty, sister of George, marries F. Lewis,
i. 13, n.
Washington, Bushrod, i. 12.
Washington, Charles, brother of George, i. 13.
Washington, George, importance of his character, i. 9 ;
remarks of Lord Brougham and John Adams, ii.; his
birth, i. 10 ; contemporaneous events, ii.; baptism of, i.
12 ; present state of his birth-place, ii.; monumental
stone, ii.; removes to the Bappahannock, i. 13 ; his
ancestry in America, ii.; in England, i. 15 ; his father,
i. 18 ; his mother, i. 19-25 ; his first school, i. 26 ; sub
sequent studies, ii.; obtains a midshipman's warrant,
ii.; relinquishes it, i. 27 ; his boyhood, ii.; the wild
colt, i. 28 ; his rules of behavior, i. 29 ; poetical selec
tions, i. 30 ; his first love, ii.; gains the friendship of
Lord Fairfax, i. 34 ; employed by him as surveyor, ii.;
his journal, i. 35 ; account of an Indian dance, i. 36 ;
appointed public surveyor, i. 37 ; life in the woods, ii.;
his reading, i. 39 ; inherits lands in Suffolk County, i.
40 ; goes to Barbadoes with Lawrence, ii.; takes small
pox there, i. 41 ; journal at Barbadoes, ii.; description
of the island, i. 43 ; inherits Mount Vernon, i. 41 ; ap
pointed to command a military district, with rank of
major, i. 49 ; his military instructors, ii.; sent to the
Ohio, i. 50 ; his instructions, i. 51 ; his journal, i. 52 ;
selects site of Pittsburg for fort, ii.; his speech to the
Indians, i. 54 ; proceeds to Venango, i. 55 ; interview
with Le Gardeur, i. 56 ; return to Venango, i. 57 ;
leaves Van Braam and goes out with Gist, i. 58 ; his
life attempted, i. 60 ; reaches Williamsburg, i. 59 ; de
clines command of Virginia expedition, i. 62 ; appoint
ed lieutenant-colonel, ii.; collects two companies at
Alexandria, ii.; proceeds to Wills Creek, ii.; calls for
aid, i. 63 ; surprises Jumon ville, i. 65 ; his defence of
his conduct, i. 66 ; becomes colonel on Fry's death, i.
68; Fort Necessity, ii.; joined by Capt. Mackay, i. 69 ;
difficulty as to rank, ii.; advances to the Monongahela,
ii.; falls back, i. 70 ; surrenders to De Villiers, ii.; de
ceived in the articles, ib.; returns to Williamsburg, i.
72 ; opposes new expedition, ii.; resigns his commission,

i. 73 ; accepts place on Braddock's staff, i. 87 ; attends
meeting at Alexandria, ii.; his estimate of Braddock, i.
89 ; urges him to proceed rapidly with part of his force,
i. 90 ; his advice taken, i. 91 ; falls sick, ii.; his conduct
at the battle of the Monongahela, i. 93, 94 ; his account,
i. 93 ; rejoins Dunbar, i. 95 ; reads funeral service over
Braddock, ii.; repairs to Mount Vernon, i. 98 ; appoint
ed colonel by Virginia, ii.; his services ignored in Eng
land, ii.; appeals to Gen. Shirley in Capt. Dagworthy's
case, i. 99 ; appeals to Gov. Dinwiddie, i. 100 ; cabal
against him, ii.; tribute to, i. 102 ; fortifies the frontier,
i. 103 ; applies to Lord Loudoun, ii.; attends council at
Philadelphia, ii.; seeks to be placed on regular estab
lishment, ii.; retires to Mount Vernon, i. 104 ; anxiety
for the reduction of Fort Duquesne, i. 105 ; commands
Fort Loudoun, i. 106 ; joins Gen. Forbes against Fort
Duquesne, i. Ill ; detained at Winchester, i. 112 ;
marches to Fort Cumberland, ii.; adopts light dress for
troops, i. 113 ; discussion with Col. Bouquet, i. 113-120 ;
opposes division of forces, i. 112, 118, 119 ; reaches Fort
Duquesne, i. 121 ; addresses a circular to frontier in
habitants, i. 122 ; elected member of the Legislature,
ii.; resigns his commission, ii.; meets Mrs. Custis, i.
123 ; his marriage, i. 124 ; vote of thanks to, i. 156 ; his
care of his plantation and its produce, i. 157 ; orders on
London, ii.; his description of his estate, i. 160 ; his
Church, i. 161 ; his amusements, i. 162; his occupations,
i. 163 ; his patriotic stand in the Legislature, i. 1 67 ; life
at Mount Vernon, i. 189 ; letters in regard to Stamp Act,
ii.; on non-intercourse, i. 205 ; concerts scheme with
Mason, i. 210 ; signs Association, i. 210, 341 ; visits his
Western lands, i. 224 ; efforts to obtain confirmation of
title to bounty lands, ii.; his journal, i. 225 ; visits
Fort Pitt, i. 226 ; address of White Mingo, ii.; his re
ply, ti.; returns to Mount Vernon, i. 233 ; death of Miss
Custis, ii.; in the Legislature on the Boston port act, i.
255 ; letter to B. Fairfax, ii.; opposes non-exportation,
i. 256 ; speech at Convention at Williamsburg, i. 259 ;
appointed delegate to the General Congress, i. 260, 341 ;
observes fasting day, i. 261 ; in Congress, i. 277 ; alone
kneels at prayer, i. 277, 341 ; not advocating independ
ence yet, i. 286 ; returns to Mount Vernon, i. 287 ; his
account of the battle of Lexington, i. 305 ; favors rais
ing of troops, i. 312 ; appointed on all committees of
defence, i. 334 ; proposed as commander-in-chief by
Adams, i. 336 ; announces appointment to his wife, i.
338 ; and brother, i. 339 ; proceeds to Boston, ii.; his
commission, i. 342 ; escorted to Kingsbridge by Phila
delphia first troop, i. 358 ; reply to committee of New
York Congress, i. 360 ; reply to Congress of Massachu
setts, i. 361 ; reaches camp at Cambridge, ii.; his ap
pearance, i. 361, n.; report to Congress, i. 363 ; his
division of the army, i. 368 ; his relations with Con
gress, i. 369 ; his reply to Mass., i. 371 ; correspondence
with Gage, i. 373 ; sends Arnold to co-operate with
Schuyler, i. 377, 378 ; his report of state of the army in
Sept., 1775, i. 392 ; visited by committee, i. 394 ; diffi
culties in the army, i. 401, 402 ; reasons for deferring

760

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

attack, i. 405 ; his plan of attack overruled, i. 407, 408 ;
enters Boston, i. 413 ; official report, i. 426 ; reply to
address of Massachusetts House, i. 415 ; action of Con
gress, 1. 416 ; a medal ordered, ii.; official letters, i. 416 ;
his reply, i. 417 ; prepares to defend New York, i. 418 ;
proceeds thither, ii.; his opinion of the Virginia declara
tion, i. 435 ; arrives at New York, i. 438 ; visits Con
gress, i. 439 ; his opinion, ii.; plot to seize, i. 441 ;
applies to Congress for more troops, i. 442 ; his general
order to the army, ii.; orders reading of the Declaration
of Independence, i. 445 ; measures to protect the High
lands, i. 446 ; intercepts Howe's letters, i. 447 ; refuses
to receive letters from commissioners, ii.; address to
army, i. 449, 453 ; witnesses defeat at Brooklyn, i.
457 ; retreats to New York, ii.; to Harlem, i. 458 ; re
port of battle, ii.; council as to New York, i. 472 ; his
disposition of his army, i. 474; letter to Congress, i.
478 ; engages Howe at Whiteplains, i. 487 ; falls back
to North Castle, i. 488 ; consequent operations, i. 490 ;
joins Greene at Fort Lee, ii.; opposed to defending Fort
Washington, i. 492, 502 ; his reflections on loss of Fort
Washington, i. 502 ; calls in Schuyler, Lee, and Mercer,
i. 504 ; retires to.Newark, i. 505 ; appeals to Pennsyl
vania and New Jersey, ii.; retreats to Brunswick and
Trenton, i. 506 ; faces Cornwallis, i. 508 ; recruits troops,
i. 525 ; letter to Congress, ii.; powers granted him, i.
527 ; surprises Hessians at Trenton, i. 531 ; invested by
Cornwallis, advances to Princeton, i. 535 ; battle, ii.;
his plans, i. 564 ; encamps at Middlebrook, i. 565 ;
harasses Howe, i. 568 ; advances to Quibbletown, ii.;
returns to camp, ii.; watches Howe's plans, ii.; uncer
tainty, i. 570 ; marches to Germantown, i. 571 ; meets
Lafayette, ii.; advances against Howe, i. 575 ; battle of
the Brandywine, ii.; meets Howe at Warren Tavern, i.
579 ; resolves to abandon Philadelphia, i. 681 ; letter
to Gov. Trumbull, i. 590 ; attacks English at German-
town, i. 592 ; letter to his brother, i. 593 ; to President
of Congress, ii.; repulses Howe at Whitemarsh, i. 607 ;
retires to Valley Forge, i. 608 ; reinforces Schuyler, i.
628 ; hears of Stark's victory, i. 633 ; difficulties in
getting supplies, i. 671, 672 ; Conway's Cabal, i. 673 ;
letter to Laurens, i. 674 ; announces treaty with France
to army, i. 689 ; his opinion of North's bills, i. 690 ;
difficulty as to exchange of prisoners, i. 694 ; letter to
Steuben, i. 706 ; at Valley Forge, ii. 9 ; leaves it, ii. 15 ;
takes post at Hopewell, ii. 16 ; resolves to attack ene
my, ii.; battle of Monmouth, ii. 18 ; his rebuke to Lee,
ii.; letter- from Lee, ii. 32 ; his reply, ii.; encamps at
Whiteplains, ii. 36 ; letters to Heath, "Sullivan, and
Greene on Sullivan's misunderstanding with D'Estaing,
ii. 42 ; proceeds to Fredericksburg and watches Clinton,
ii. 44 ; his disposition of the army in Dec, 1778, ii. 48 ;
plans Indian campaign, ii. 68 ; letter to Gov. Clinton,
ii.; to B. Harrison, ii. 69 ; confers with committee of
Congress, ii. 73 ; report in accordance with his sugges
tions, ii. 81 ; answer to Jersey brigade, ii. 83 ; their re
ply, ii. 84; checks Clinton's advance, ii. 87; retakes
Stony Point, ii. 90 ; fails to retake Fort Fayette, ii. 91 ;

abandons Stony Point, ii. 92 ; instructions to Sullivan
for the Indian campaign, ii. 94 ; disbands militia, ii. 97 ;
orders Heath to the Highlands, ii.; goes into winter-
quarters, ii.; dispatches troops to South, ii. 98 ; his
account of campaign of 1779, ii.; letter to Heath, ii.
101 ; advances to Short Hills, ii. 104 ; leaves Greene at
Springfield, ii. 105 ; appeals earnestly to Congress for
men and clothing, ii. 109 ; sends Lifayette to Eocham-
beau, ii.; crosses North Eiver and menaces New York,
ib.; meets Eochambeau and De Temay at Hartford, ii.
110 ; concerts plans with them, ii.; his reprimand of
Arnold, ii. 112 ; offers him the left wing, ii. 113 ; dis
covers Arnold's treason, ii. 115 ; appoints a board to
examine Andre"s case, ii.; his remarks to Laurens, ii.
118 ; unjustly censured by Lord Mahon, ii. 123 ; orders
troops South to aid Lincoln, ii. 128 ; opposes investiga
tion into Lincoln's conduct, ii. 135 ; sends DeKalb
South, ii. 140 ; opposed to the appointment of Gates, ii.
142, ¦«.; letters on his defeat, ii. 148 ; his action on re
volt of Pennsylvania line, ii. 178 ; suppresses revolt of
Jersey line, ii.; view of state of affairs, ii. 181 ; censures
manager of his estate for yielding to English demands,
ii. 182 ; letter on the Vermont dispute, ii. 183 ; recom
mends Greene to Congress, ii. 195 ; sends aid to Greene,
ii. 217 ; letter to Laurens, ii. 243 ; meets Eochambeau,
ii. 244 ; his account of interview, ii.; at Peekskill, ii.
245 ; attempts to surprise posts on New York, ii. 246 ;
joined by Eochambeau, ii.; plans attack on Cornwallis,
ii. 247 ; marches South, ii. 248 ; concerts plan of siege,
ii. 251 ; besieges and takes Yorktown, ii. 252-257 ; pro
poses attack on Charleston, ii. 259 ; at death of J. P.
Custis, ii. 264 ; letter to Lafayette, ii. 265 ; his recep
tion at Yorktown, ii. 266 ; in Congress, ii.; addresses
circular letter to the States, ii. 269 ; returns to army,
ii. 271 ; his conduct in the case of Capt. Huddy's mur
der, ii.; royalty offered him, ii. 273 ; letters from Eng
lish commissioners, ii. 275 ; his letter on the state of
the army, ii. 277 ; his action on the Newburg addresses,
ii. 282 ; he calms the officers, ii. 286 ; his letter to the
President of Congress, ii. 287 ; orders Howe to suppress
mutiny at Lancaster, ii. 289 ; his circular letter to the
governors on disbanding the army, ii. 302 ; marches
into New York, ii. 291 ; takes leave of his officers, ii.;
his address in Congress on resigning, ii. 292 ; President
Mifflin's reply, ii. 293 ; his accounts, ii. 294, n.; returns
to Mount Vernon, ii.; declines remuneration, ii. 313 ;
his feelings on retirement from army expressed in let
ters to Lafayette and Knox, ii. 313, 314 ; statues voted;
ii. 315 ; his agricultural studies, ii.; his interest in in
ternal improvements, ii. 317 ; tour through New York,
ii.; letter to Chastellux, ii.; to Harrison, ii. 319 ; tour
to Western Virginia, ii. 318 ; letter declining shares in
the companies for improving the navigation of the
James and Potomac rivers, ii. 322 ; life at Mount Ver
non, ii. 334 ; visits, ii.; Watson's account of, ii. 335 ;
the Cincinnati, ii. 337 ; general measures relative to
commerce, ii. 340 ; Jay's letter on a federal government,
ii. 341 ; Washington's reply, ii. 342 ; appointed to the

INDEX.

761

Convention to form a constitution, ii. 344 ; Governor
Randolph's letter, ii. 345 ; Washington's reply, ii.; his
opinions, ii.; remarks on Shay's rebellion, ii. 347 ; in
Convention, ii 349 ; made president, ii.; the constitu
tion reported, ii. o51 ; returns to Mount Vernon, ii.;
letter to Lafayette, ii.; to Trumbull, ii. 353 ; misjudged
by Jefferson, ii.; letter to President of Congress, ii. 356 ;
urged by friends not to refuse Presidency, ii. 367-375 ;
his own feelings, ii.; letters to Lee, Hamilton, and La
fayette, ii.; elected first President of the United States,
ii. 376 ; remarks to Knox, ii.; letter announcing elec
tion, ii. 540 ; leaves Mount Vernon, ii. 378 ; reception
at Alexandria and Philadelphia, ii. 379 ; Trenton and
New York, ii. 380 ; his establishment at New York, ii.
381 ; his defence of his levees, ii. 382 ; inaugurated, ii.
383 ; inaugural address, ii. 384 ; private life, ii. 388,
414 ; his stables, ii. 389 ; his mother's death, ii. 390;
declines to treat directly with foreign ambassadors, ii.
398 ; his policy, ii. 402 ; his cabinet, ii. 404 ; his views
of the first Congress, ii. 409 ; tour to New England, ii.
410 ; reply to citizens of Boston, ii.; to the Cincinnati,
ii. 411 ; letter to the Emperor of Morocco, ii. 420 ; sits
for a portrait by Savage, ii. 421 ; speech to Congress,
ii.; leaves New York, ii. 439 ; passes through Jersey, ii.
440 ; his views on Arnold's treason, ii. 442 ; domestic
affairs, ii. 44A ; speech to Congress at Philadelphia, ii.
454 ; his course with Hamilton and Jefferson, ii. 465 ;
appoints St. Clair to command of Western army, ii. 468 ;
his Southern tour, ii. 470 ; letter to Gouverneur Morris
on it, ii. 473 ; speech at opening of Congress in 1791, ii.
475 ; vetoes bill of apportionment, ii. 477 ; message
thereon, ii., n.; his regret at the division in the cabinet,
ii. 487 ; letters to Jefferson, ii. 488 ; sends his portrait
to the Earl of Buchan, ii. 492 ; at Mount Vernon, ii.;
letters to the cabinet, ii.; to Gouverneur Morris on the
licentiousness of the press, ii. 493 ; loses his nephew, ii.;
speech at the opening of Congress, ii.; reply to announce
ment of French republic, ii. 499, n.; urged to serve a
second term, ii. 507 ; reply to Bandolph, ii. 511 ; re
elected, ii. 513 ; inauguration, ii. 514 ; letter to Mad
ame Lafayette, ii. 518 ; endeavors to secure Lafayette's
release, ii. 519 ; letter to Jefferson on European war, ii.
619 ; queries to cabinet, ii. 549 ; cabinet counsel on the
conduct to be pursued by the United States, ii. 520 ;
issues proclamation of neutrality, ii. 521, 522 ; opposi
tion made to, by the journals, ii. 522 ; receives Genet,
ii. 524 ; his troubles with him, ii. 527-533 ; demands
his recall, ii. 533 ; letter to Madison on his right to
change place of meeting of Congress, ii. 536 ; speech on
opening of Congress, ii. 551 ; reply, ii. 555 ; message
on affairs of Spain, ii. 556 ; his action in the Whiskey
Insurrection, ii. 585 ; letter to Jay, ii. 587 ; speech in
Congress, ii. 592 ; addresses to, in regard to Jay's
treaty, ii. 600 ; letters to Eandolph, ii. 601 ; reply to
selectmen of Boston, ii. 604 ; signs Jay's treaty, ii.
605 ; letter to Knox, ii. 606 ; attacks upon, ii. 607 ;
letter to Eandolph, ii. 608 ; speech on opening 4th
Congress, ii. 618 ; message, ii. 619; reply to Adet, ii.

621 ; proclamation of Jay's treaty, ii. 622 ; reply to the
call for documents, ii. 624 ; letter to Pinckney on the
debate on Jay's treaty, ii. 626 ; intervention in favor of
Lafayette, ii. 629 ; letter to Jefferson, ii. 630 ; forged
letters, ii. 631, 640 ; issues his farewell address, ii. 636 ;
the address in full, ii. 655 ; last speech to Congress, ii.
638 ; reply, ii. 640 ; communicates to Congress letter to
Pinckney, ji.; letter to Knox on retiring, ii. 641 ; his
last levee, ii. 642 ; banquet to, ii. 645 ; retires to Mount
Vernon, ii.; Marshall's review of his administration,
ii.; at Mount Vernon, ii. 648 ; letters to McHenry and
Wolcott, ii. 648, 649 ; letter to Lord Erskine, ii. 650 ;
of Earl of Eadnor, ii.; Washington's reply, ii. 651 ;
Fox's remarks, ii. 652 ; his mode of life at Philadelphia,
ii. 653 ; proposed as general-in-chief, ii. 671 ; appointed
lieutenant-general, ii. 674 ; Gen. Sullivan's description
of, ii. 679 ; his last illness, ii. 682 ; death, ii. 685 ; ac
tion of Congress on, ii.; of Napoleon, ii. 689 ; Marshall's
view of his character, ii.; eulogy of Fisher Ames, ii.
693 ; monument to, resolved by Congress in 1799, ii.
688, 701 ; his will, ii. 724.
Washington, Sir Henry, i. 16.
Washington, Lt. Col. James, i. 16.
Washington, John, of Warton, i. 15.
Washington, John, of Whitfield, i. 15.
Washington, John, a Benedictine, i. 16.
Washington, John, great-grandfather of George, i. 15, n.;
comes to America, i. 13 ; actions of, i. 16.
Washington, John A., brother of George, i. 13; letters
to, i. 313, 339, 439, 502, 593.
Washington, John A., nephew of George, aid to Lafayette,
death of, ii. 493.
Washington, Lawrence, i. 13.
Washington, Lawrence, of Northampton, i. 15.
Washington, Lawrence, of Sulgrave, i. 15.
Washington, Lawrence, i. 13, 15.
Washington, Lawrence, brother of George, i. 13 ;
serves in Spottwood's regiment under Vernon, i. 26 ;
obtains midshipman's warrant for George, ii.; names
Mount Vernon, i. 32 ; his marriage, ii.; his affection for
George, i. 26, 38, 39 ; his illness, i. 40 ; trip to West
Indies, and death, ii.
Washington, Lawrence, friend and relative, i. 18.
Washington, Martha, sketch of, ii. 697, i. 123 ; first mar
riage, i. 123, ii. 699 ; meets Washington, ii.; married to
him, i. 124 ; her stay with the army, i. 125, ii. 700 ;
death of her daughter, i. 233, ii. 700 ; Washington's
letter to, announcing appointment, i. 338 ; arrives at
Boston, i. 400 ; with the General visits Philadelphia, i.
439 ; at the head of a society for clothing army, ii. 107 ;
loses her son, i. 700 ; letter of, after Washington's visit
to New England, ii. 412 ; at her husband's death-bed,
ii. 684 ; letter of Congress, ii. 688 ; reply, ii. 689 ; Mrs.
Sigourney's character of, ii. 701.
Washington, Mary, mother of George, i. 12 ; her books, i.
19 ; induces George to relinquish his midshipman's war
rant, i. 27 ; her death, i. 25, ii. 390 j character, i. 19, ii.
391.

762

LIFE AND TIMES OF WASHINGTON.

Washington, Col. Wm. A., i. 16 ; sketch of, i. 546 ; his
earlier services, ii.; at Trenton, i. 53], 545, 546; sur
prises Hugely, i. 547 ; his services in the South, ii.; de
feats Tarleton, ii. 130 ; escapes at Monk's Corner, ii.
132 ; captures Clermont, ii. 196 ; surprises Ninety-Six,
ii. 197 ; at Cowpens, ii. 199-201 ; medal to, ii. 201, n.;
at Guilford C. H., ii. 205 ; taken prisoner, ii. 222.
Watson, Col., reinforces Bawdon, ii. 220.
Waxhaws, Buford surprised at, ii. 136.
Wayne, Gen. Anthony, sketch of, ii. 185 ; colonel, ii. 25,
185 ; in Canada, ii.; opinion of Eeed, i. 520 ; at the
Brandywine, ii. 185 ; sent to annoy Howe, i. 579, ii. 185 ;
repulsed by Grey, i. 580, ii. 185 ; at Germantown, i. 592,
ii. 186 ; advises attack on Philadelphia, i. 603 ; joins
Lafayette, i. 705 ; in favor of attacking Clinton, ii. 15 ;
at Monmouth, i. 549, ii. 19, 186 ; charges against Lee,
ii. 21 ; takes Stony Point, ii. 89, 90 ; letter to Wash
ington, ii.; attacks Bergen Point, ii. 106 ; attempts to
quell mutiny, ii. 177 ; hangs spies, ii.; on James Eiver,
ii. 186 ; succeeds St. Clair, ii. 186, 491 ; ordered to check
expedition against New Orleans, ii. 579 ; his Miami
campaign, ii.; at Au Glaize, ii. 580 ; reinforced by Scott,
ii; defeats enemy, ii. 187, 581 ; makes peace, ii. 609 ;
effect of victory, ii. 582.
Webster, Lt. Col., at Camden, ii. 145 ; at Guilford, ii. 206.
Weeks, Capt., killed, ii. 59.
Weems, Eev. M. L., pastor at Pohick, i. 161.
Wemys, Maj., repulsed by Sumter, ii. 162, 197 ; his cru
elty, ii.
Wentworth, Gen., i. 26.
Wessyngton, manor of, the original seat of the family in
England, i. 13.
Westfield, i. 569.
West Point taken by Clinton, i. 707 : Putnam sent to, ii.
44 ; troops at, ii. 48 ; fortified, ii. 86 ; Arnold's treason
at, ii. 112.
Wethersfield, Washington and Eochambeau at, ii. 244.
Whipple, Com., sails to relieve Charleston, ii. 128.
Whiskey Eebellion, i. 512, 700 ; history of, ii. 583-586.
White, Col., exploit of, ii. 97 ; surprised by Tarleton, ii. 133.
White, Maj., killed at Germantown, i. 594.
Whitefield preaches crusade against Louisburg, i. 128.
Whitehall, i. 323.
Whitehaven, ii. 60.
White Horse, i. 511.
White House, Washington at, i. 139.
White Marsh, i. 595, 607 ; ii. 11, 12, 25.
White Mingo, address to Washington, i. 226.
Whiteplains, battle of, i. 487 ; Washington encamps at,
ii. 36 ; withdraws from, ii. 44 ; defeat at, ii. 101.
White Thunder, i. 55.
Whiting, Beverly, Washington's godfather, i. 12.
Wiberd, Eichard, i. 76, u.
Wigg, Capt., ii. 51.
Wilkesbarre, ii. 76 ; burnt by Indians, ii. 78 ; fort at, ii.
Wilkinson, Maj. Gen., sketch of, i. 657 ; at Trenton and
Princeton, i . 658 ; at Saratoga, i. 646, 658 ; his services
in war of 1812, i. 658.

Willet, Col. Marinus, at Fort Schuyler, i. 633 ; in expedi
tion against Onondaga, ii. 36.
Williams, David, captures Andre-, i. 114, n.
Williams, Elisha, i. 76, n.
Williams, Col., i. 547.
Williams, Maj. Otho H., sketch of, i. 584 ; taken at Fort
Washington, ii.; exchanged for Ackland, ii.; his treat
ment while a prisoner, i. 553 ; in the South, i. 547 ; at
Camden, ih.; his operations, ii. 233 ; at Eutaw, ii. 234.
Williamson, Hugh, in convention, ii. 350.
Williamsburg, i. 53 ; Washington returns to, i. 59, 72 ;
convention at, i. 259, 340 ; powder seized at, i. 318, 341 ;
assembly at, i. 319 ; sends, riflemen to Hampton, i. 321.
Wills Creek, i. 52, 59, 64, 72, 87, 91.
Wilmington, i. 575, 578.
Wilson, James, signs constitution, ii. 363 ; made Judge
of the Supreme Court, ii. 406.
Winchester, i. 52 ; Fort Loudoun built at, ii. 104.
Winter Hill, i. 652.
Wirt's Life of Patrick Henry, extract from, i. 184-188.
Wolcott, Oliver, jr., sketch of, ii. 612 ; at Danbury, ii.;
secretary of the treasury, ii. 598 ; resigns, ii. 612 ; cir
cuit judge, ii. 613.
Wolcott, Boger, i. 76, n.
Wolfe, Gen., at Louisburg, i. 107, 108 ; returns to England,
i. 109 ; proceeds against Quebec, i. 140 ; sails from Hali
fax, i. 142 ; repulsed at Montmorency, i. 143 ; despond
ency, i. 144 ; reaches Heights of Abraham, i. 145 ; his
victory and death, i. 146.
Wood, Com., i. 196.
Wood Creek, i. 623.
Woodbridge, Col., i. 399.
Woodbridge, i. 539, 569.
Woodbury, Col., i. 639.
Woodbury, i. 598.
Woodford, Gen., advises attack on Philadelphia, i. 603 ;
at Monmouth, ii. 20; at Charleston, ii. 131.
Woodford, Col., repulses Fordyce, i. 321.
Woodhull, Gen., i. 454.
Wooster, Gen. David, sketch of, i. 585 ; at Louisburg, i.
334, 585 ; brigadier-general in British army, i. 585 ; in
American, i. 338, 586 ; his services in Canada, i. 585 ;
Maj. Gen. of Conn, militia, i. 586; killed, i. 562, 586.
Worthington, John, i. 76, n.
Wyandots, peace with, ii. 609.
Wyllys, Maj., killed in Harmar's expedition, i. 462.
Wyman, Lt. Col. Isaac, i. 651.
Wynnsborough, ii. 196, 197.
Wyoming, battle of, ii. 65 ; Sullivan at, ii. 94.
Yarmouth, the, ii. 47, 57.
Yellow Creek, i. 228.
Yellow Springs, i. 579.
Yorktown fortified by Cornwallis, ii. 225 ; siege of, ii. 252.
Yougheogeny, i. 59, 64, 90, 92.
Young, Arthur, ii. 315.
Zubly's Ferry, ii. 49, 96.

; UNIVERSITY LIBRARY